by Dylan Steel
He frowned. “What do you mean ‘disappeared’?”
“Everett,” she said, drawing her eyebrows together, “Eprah’s almost always watching us. In the Institution, at work—and I’m pretty sure you’ve figured out they’re in our apartment.”
“Yeah, but they’ve never…” his jaw tightened as he trailed off, staring vacantly over her shoulder. She could practically see his mind working through what she was telling him.
“There are records,” she continued. “Of everything they see. But… when you said all those things before, I deleted them. The only other option was to turn you in, and I didn’t—I didn’t want to. If anyone saw the footage, we both would’ve gotten in trouble for what you’d said—you for questioning Eprah and me for letting you—and if I hadn’t erased them, we probably would’ve.” Her shoulders trembled. “I-I don’t think anyone else saw them. But…” She stopped, her lip quivering.
His eyes flicked back to hers, suddenly alive with a dark fire. “But what, Sage?”
“But I did it too many times. I got caught,” she choked out, “and—I’m pretty sure that’s why we were paired. They wanted to punish me for what I’d done.” Tears shone in her eyes. “I-I’m sorry. It’s my fault you’re stuck with me.”
Everett stared at her, saying nothing. She shifted her weight as his dark eyes searched hers appraisingly.
Without warning, he reached forward, pulling her into his arms. She balked instinctively but gave in after a moment, allowing herself to be enveloped in his unexpected hold, savoring the comforting warmth of his touch.
“I don’t blame you, Sage,” he said in a low voice, his lips brushing her ear.
“You don’t?” Her voice was muffled against his tear-soaked shirt.
“No.” He squeezed her tighter. “And I do believe you. I just—I had no idea. I’m sorry I put you in that position.”
“But it’s my fault we’re—”
“—together?” She could feel his mouth curl into a smile against her hair. “Sage, there’s no way I could be upset about being paired with you. Except for the fact that it wasn’t your choice.”
She swallowed, unsure how to respond. In that moment, one thing was clear: something had shifted between them. Everett’s feelings for her ran deeper than he’d let on. She just wasn’t sure she felt the same way. But she wasn’t sure she didn’t either.
Sage could taste the salt from her tears as she buried her face deeper into his chest. Despite the calming reassurance of his arms, her heart beat wildly against her ribs. This wasn’t exactly how she’d expected their conversation to go. Better, maybe. Or worse. She couldn’t decide. Her emotions were all over the place.
“I’ll try to be more careful about what I say,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “I don’t want to give them a reason to hurt you.”
“Ok.” She nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. “Or you,” she added.
He hesitated, then gave her another small squeeze. “Or me.”
14. Q & A
A man stood in the hallway, clearing his throat.
“Ahem.”
Sage stopped mid-swipe and looked up from the tech table. “Boulder,” she said in surprise. Glancing around, she realized she was the only tech in the room. Everyone else must be on break or dealing with reqs. “What are you doing here?”
His bulky frame overflowed the opening in the doorway. He peeked in the room, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Just, uh, came to check on ya, firecracker.”
Her eyebrow quirked up. “Oh, yeah? Well, here I am.”
“Yeah,” he grunted.
When he didn’t move, she shook her head slightly, a grin playing at the corners of her lips. “Hang on a sec.” She squashed the images beneath her hand and locked the table, then made her way over to him. She leaned against the wall with a small smirk. “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to make sure you were ok. After the other day.”
“Right. That.” She nodded knowingly. The news of the attack had been looping nonstop all over the city ever since the bombs went off. Mr. Gaztok’s face was everywhere, constantly condemning the Lawless for what they’d done. “You could’ve just checked my login records.”
He wrinkled his brow in confusion.
“Ok, right,” she said as she pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated at the basic skills lacking from yet another officer. “You could’ve asked one of the other techs to check my login records,” she tried again. “They would’ve been able to tell you. I haven’t missed any shifts.”
“Oh.” His brows tightened as the pieces of the puzzle visibly fell into place in his mind. “No,” he began again, more slowly this time. “I wanted to make sure you were o-k,” he said, dragging out the last word.
“Totally fine.” She shrugged and dropped her gaze to the floor. “I pretty much split as soon as everything happened.” It was probably better not to mention that she’d run straight into the thickest parts of the smoke in an effort to find her pair.
“Rox. That’s why he wanted me to ask,” Boulder muttered with a frown, studying her. He stood taller, projecting a menacing authority that Sage hadn’t seen from him before. She took a quick step backward as her heart started thumping faster.
“Sage,” his voice took on a dangerous edge as it rumbled beneath her skin, “you know I’m in charge of interrogations. It’s no coincidence I can pick out a lie a mile away. Let’s not waste either of our time.”
She blinked. “Boulder, I—”
“I’m not asking if you missed any shifts. You were basically next door to a bomb, and—” he stopped her protests with an icy look, “—I know you’re not telling me the truth when you say you’re totally fine.”
“I’m fine now,” she stammered. She didn’t like this new side of Boulder. At all.
His eyes narrowed. “Now. What about then?”
She crossed her arms, refusing to show any more weakness. “Apparently, you won’t believe me if I say ‘fine.’ So I’ll stick with ‘none of your business.’”
“Sage…” Her name left his lips as a throaty growl.
“Who is he?”
“What?”
“You said someone wanted you to ask me if I was ok. Who wanted you to ask?”
His jaw twitched. “Someone important enough that you should answer me.”
“Who?”
“That’s not how this works, firecracker. If you want an answer, you’d better give me one first.” He frowned and added, “One I believe.”
“Am I being interrogated, Boulder?”
“Unofficially.”
“Well, if it’s unofficial, then I guess you don’t have to follow whatever your normal rules are,” she said, bristling. “I’ll answer you when you answer me. Not before.”
A cool mask slipped into place as he stared back at her. She didn’t expect him to answer her, so she was surprised when he said, “One of the heads.”
“Of the Kunbriat?” she whispered, double checking over her shoulder to make sure they were alone. “Who?”
“I give, you give.” He shook his head. “Your own rules. Your turn.”
“Fine.” Her shoulders slumped a little. “I meant it when I said I’m fine now. I inhaled some smoke while I was looking for my pair, but I really am fine now.”
“Some?” He looked at her appraisingly.
“Ok, a lot. Happy?”
“Not really.” His eyes narrowed. “Why were you looking for your pair in the middle of a Lawless attack?”
“It’s not like I knew it was a Lawless attack at the time.” She rolled her eyes. “And he works at the Cabinet. I was worried he was there when it happened.”
“Smoke injuries can be fatal, firecracker. You shouldn’t have gone anywhere near the building.”
“Duh. Figured that one out pretty fast, Boulder.”
“I’m sure.” He smirked. “I doubt you’ll be doing that again.”
“Not anytime soon,” she said dully, remembering the
agonizing inability to breathe.
“Your ID wasn’t listed in any of the hospital records. How’d you get over ‘a lot’ of smoke inhalation?”
Sage’s mouth dropped open slightly. If he’d already checked for her records, this went way past the bounds of a casual conversation. And he’d already admitted he was fishing on behalf of one of the Kunbriat heads—she just didn’t know who yet. Instinct told her she shouldn’t bring Everett into this any more than she already had.
She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “Nu-uh. That was way more than one question. Your turn. Which one of the heads was it? Who asked you to talk to me?”
“You think I need incentive to come talk to you?” He arched an eyebrow suggestively, letting the corner of his mouth drift up into a disarming smile.
Her stomach tumbled unexpectedly, but she recovered quickly, scowling at him. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Nice try, interrogator, but it’s still my question.”
“True,” he mused, tucking his hands under his arms in such a way that they made his muscles bulge even more, stretching his sleeves taut. A build like his shouldn’t even have been physically possible.
“Well?”
“I said you had to give me an answer I believed.” He lifted his shoulders nonchalantly.
“It’s not my fault if you don’t believe me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “It is, actually.”
“I’m not lying.” She sighed when his neutral mask reappeared. “Fine. Med kit.”
“Unregistered?”
“Dunno.” She shot him an annoyed look. “I was busy trying not to die. Didn’t really think to ask questions.”
“Whose was it?”
“Again. Trying not to die,” she said pointedly. “And I think I’ve earned my turn. I know you believe me.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t know… does it count as another answer if I say yes?” she retorted, her impatience growing.
“Fine, ok. Point made.” He scratched his bicep, looking a little irritated. Or was it guilty? “It was the same guy who was bothering you the night we met. The one who ran you off before we really got to know each other better.”
Nic.
Her face fell. “Oh.”
Great. She refused to talk to him, so now he was using other people—his Kunbriat clout—to check up on her.
“It’s not like I wanted to,” Boulder grumbled. “The trazk’s got some sort of ridiculous pull, being one of the heads and all.”
Sage clenched her fists. “Sounds about right.”
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“All the same, it would probably help if you told me anything else you could remember from that day.”
“So you can go report it to Nic?” She snorted. “Not a chance.”
“What if I told you it was just to make me feel better?”
“What, you believe me now?”
“I always believed you, firecracker.” He grinned, tapping his head. “But it’s a classic method. And I had to say I tried.” His expression clouded with that admission.
“Go figure. But I already told you pretty much everything.” She groaned, rubbing her temples. “So are they all trazks?”
“Who?”
“The Kunbriat heads.”
“Dunno.” His lips twitched in amusement. “Don’t really know any of them that well.”
She stared into the distance, thinking. Kai. Aidon. And now Nic—those were the heads she knew.
“Well, the ones I know sure are,” she mumbled under her breath.
Boulder chuckled and ran his knuckles over the top of her hair, tousling it a little. She jerked her head back and glared at him. “Eh, he can’t be all bad. Not if he cares about you enough to go to this kind of trouble.”
Sage tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut and pasted on an unenthusiastic smile.
“Maybe,” she said, knowing neither one of them believed her.
15. NOT A DATE
Everett’s mouth stretched into a wide yawn.
“Careful,” Sage warned as she held up a spear of broccoli, jabbing it in his direction as she squinted one eye, “you’re making yourself a target.”
He snapped his mouth closed. “That’s harsh.”
“You have no idea.” She took a big bite of florets, chewing around it as she spoke again, “I’m brwu-tahl.”
“Clearly,” he said, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
“Why so tired today?”
“I guess I got used to sleeping on the couch.” He grinned sheepishly, stifling another yawn. “Sorry.”
“You should be. You’re going to make me self-conscious if you can’t sleep next to me.”
“I’m sure I’ll get over it,” he said with a grin.
“You better. Because I’m not above changing my mind,” she teased.
Ever since Everett had saved her during the Lawless attack—after, of course, she’d been trying to save him—she’d been trying to convince him to share the bed. On its good days, the couch was saggy and lumpy and had a couple springs poking through, and she felt bad about making him sleep on it—and he’d refused to let her sleep there in his place. One time, she’d tried to force his hand by claiming the couch early, but he’d just curled up on the floor beside it. She hadn’t lasted more than two hours before relenting and going to bed so that he could at least have the lumpy couch.
He’d finally given in the last few nights, taking a small sliver of the bed. The edge of the bed. Nothing had happened between them. It was just… They weren’t together, but she could stand being around him more now. The thought of being on opposite sides of the bed no longer repulsed her like it had when they were first paired. Baby steps.
Ugh. Babies. Duty. Pairing.
Her mind had started wandering down a familiar path, but she put a quick stop to it. There was no reason to go there again. This wasn’t a date.
It was just dinner. Outside of their apartment. Just the two of them, enjoying a nice meal outside on a nice night at a nice café. Simple. Uncomplicated.
But it definitely wasn’t a date.
Sage shoved another forkful of veggies in her mouth, ignoring the small tug in her chest.
“It’d be easier if you didn’t snore so loud,” Everett said.
She nearly spat out her food. “I do not snore,” she insisted.
“Hate to break it to you, but you do.”
“You’re a terrible human being.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he took a sip of water. “But at least I don’t snore.”
Sage picked up her roll and threw it at him, just barely missing his shoulder as he ducked.
He laughed, straightening. “Well, now you’re just being wasteful. Between that and the snoring… I mean, that’s a lot of negative qualities, Sage. You might want to work on that.”
“You know, I think the couch is starting to miss you. Maybe we should arrange a reunion.”
“Ah, see there, you’re thoughtful too. So at least it balances out a bit,” he teased.
She pursed her lips, fighting back a smile. “You’re so going to—” She stopped, her eyes widening as glanced over his shoulder, ducking her head.
“What is it?” Everett followed her line of sight to the front door of the café. He frowned, turning back to her. “What’s—”
Putting a finger to her lips as discretely as possible, she set down her fork and gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. She refused to look away from what she’d just seen. An officer had approached the café behind their table, walking inside with a purposeful air that reeked of trouble. It was Ax, one of the trazks she’d overheard talking about how fun it was to abuse his power. She wasn’t willing to stick around and see a firsthand demonstration.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, ignoring the plate still full of food in front of her as her pulse drummed in her ears. She stood and grabbed Ev
erett’s hand, pulling them both away from the table.
They hadn’t even gotten half a block away when the commotion started. Gasps. Clattering dishes. Scurrying customers. Everett started to slow down, trying to look back, but Sage wrapped her arm around his and walked faster until they could turn a corner.
When her vice grip relaxed a little, Everett looked down at her, a questioning look clouding his dark eyes.
“You gonna tell me what just happened back there?” he asked gently.
“Ax.” Her fingers inadvertently tightened around his arm again.
He cocked his head. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“He’s on duty. And apparently, he’s hungry.” She looked up at him, biting her lip. “It’s not a good idea to run into him while he’s on duty.”
Everett nodded thoughtfully. “Or when he’s hungry, I guess.”
Sage swallowed. “I think he’s always hungry.”
Neither of them said much for awhile after that, falling into a sort of quiet rhythm as they continued on, wandering aimlessly through the city after their dinner had been interrupted. Sage wondered whether the young woman who’d served them their meal had cooperated with Ax. He could’ve asked for free food or…
Her hands clenched at her side. Mostly, she hoped the woman had cooperated and saved herself, but another small part of her hoped that—if she hadn’t—the woman had at least managed to punch the officer in the nose before she died.
Everett chuckled softly, drawing her from her thoughts.
“Something funny?” she asked, a bewildered expression on her face.
He snorted. “Remember when we were in the Transitional Class, and you thought I was behind the Lawless writing all over the Institution?”
“Yes.” Her lips pressed together as an old spark of irritation flared up inside her. “Because you were,” she said stubbornly, still unwilling to say she was wrong.
“Hardly.” Everett shook his head in amusement. “And a couple months ago, you thought I was some sort of spy against the Lawless.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. “What’s your point?”
“How could I possibly be both?” he asked, eyes glinting.