She narrowed her eyes, but he didn’t back down.
“Shall I have a conversation with your brother about the truth?”
So that’s why he was here, to hang his leverage over her. She wasn’t in the mood for his games anymore. “Go ahead. Tell Cyrus. I never asked for your protection.”
“You’d be dead without it,” he bit out.
She sprang from her seat. Even though she kept her voice low, it was brimming with raspy disdain. “And I suppose you expect my gratitude?”
His knee bounced, and his glare darkened.
“You’d like me to thank you for keeping me squarely under Cyrus’s control?” she asked, balling her fists. “The only people who benefit from that are you and Cyrus.”
“I don’t look at it that way,” he said through a clenched jaw.
“Of course not.” She shrugged. “But it wasn’t for my benefit, and if we’re really discussing the truth, you and I aren’t friends anymore. Why would I say anything to you? I know you’ll hand me over as soon as you can find a way to get something from it.”
He launched himself from the bench, but she lifted her chin and met his gaze. She wouldn’t be intimidated anymore.
He clenched his jaw. His eyes were intense, but his features were twisted with something else. Pain?
She glanced at the roses and took a step back. She’d never wanted to hurt him. She’d never be able to forget their friendship—even if he could. This was between her and Cyrus.
He stepped forward, keeping the distance between them painfully close. “I would never tell Cyrus, and even if you can’t accept it, I did what I did for you.”
She swallowed hard, finding her mouth dry. No matter how badly she wanted to believe that, she couldn’t. Keeping a secret like that was too risky.
This is about leverage. That’s all it is.
She peered up at him. His cool confidence was gone, replaced with something else unreadable, passionate—familiar. Emotions flooded in. It was only a glimpse, but it was her Jasper. The one who had stayed with her on those terrifying nights, who had believed in her when no one else did.
She dropped her head and stared at the ground.
Risk. Leverage. Head of the Guard.
“I won’t be a pawn in another man’s game,” she murmured.
“You’ve never been a pawn to me,” he whispered immediately.
Her wide-eyed gaze darted up to find the full weight of his piercing intensity focused on her.
Leverage… Something about risk…
Her eyes wandered to his jawline. So close.
He ran a hand over his face and shut his eyes. “I have to go. I have a briefing.”
He walked away, shaking his head, and she fell onto the bench, barely aware of the roses in front of her. She drew in a deep breath to clear her mind.
He wasn’t going to turn her over to Cyrus. She needed to know that. But it wasn’t where her thoughts lingered. She clung to his words, wanting to believe him—wanting there to be more behind them.
She forced out a breath through her nose. She’d thought about it a hundred times. If there was anything she could have done to keep him close, she would have done it. Even now, she missed him, but couldn’t go there. It would only confuse and hurt her. He had a job to do, and he was the type of person who relentlessly went after what he wanted. If he wanted her—
If he wanted me…
That’s what this was really about. She wanted to believe him because she wanted to matter to him the way he still mattered to her.
She smoothed a wrinkle in her dress. He already had too much power over her. She wouldn’t let him take any more. She was older now. She wouldn’t fall for his games so easily.
She stared as the blossoms bent in a soft breeze. They were games, right? What if she was wrong?
No, no, no!
They’d already been through this. Her Jasper was gone. She’d allowed herself to care for him once, and it had only been about his career for him. That wound still hurt.
But what if he really did care for her?
He’d left, but he’d never directly rejected her. And the way he had looked at her just now… Her stomach flipped. His words kept echoing. You’ve never been a pawn.
She glanced down the path where he’d disappeared. Was it possible? Could he have feelings for her? Could her Jasper return? She shifted on the bench to control herself, but it was too late. She’d wanted and wondered for years. If there was a chance—even a small one—she had to know.
She bit her lip. Her fingers already ached to touch him again. It wouldn’t be that hard to figure it out, would it? He certainly had no problem getting close.
Maybe if I do the same…
It was stupid, she would probably regret it, but she couldn’t wait to see him again.
Chapter 12
Nora traced the edges of the crimson petals on her wrist while Charlotte sat on the bed next to her, fidgeting with her dress and shaking her head. Even in the cleanest spots, the white polka dots had turned a dingy brown. “This dress is ruined.”
Nora nodded absently.
“Will they be back soon?” Charlotte asked. “How long does it take to get basic provisions?”
Nora shrugged. “They went to find a grocery store. I’m not sure, but from the drive here, I think they’ll need to go pretty far.”
Charlotte’s shoulders slumped. “Is this how most civilians live? I mean, does everything take this long?”
Nora sighed. Most civilians weren’t holed up in some dingy motel in the middle of nowhere. Most civilians didn’t have to make sure they weren’t being followed by crazy white-haired killers.
Charlotte stared at her with wide eyes; her question had been serious.
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” Nora replied.
Huffing, Charlotte returned her attention to her dress, and Nora glanced at the clock. She couldn’t blame Charlotte. It was fair to say Tobin and Henry had been gone a long time, and being cooped up in the tiny motel room, reeking of stale smoke, was enough to make anyone go crazy.
With nothing in common, they had sat quietly almost the whole time. How could she start a conversation with someone who teleported everywhere she went? Where could she start?
Her fingertips froze on the green vine along her wrist. “Charlotte?”
“Hmm?”
“Does Nios have a symbol?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Our crest, I suppose.”
Nora sat up straighter on the bed. Crests incorporated flowers sometimes. “What does it look like?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Various tools of scientific measurement are layered over blue lightning. Why?”
Nora shook her head. “No reason.”
She studied the red blossom on her wrist, hoping some detail would spark a memory. There had to be a connection between her tattoo and Tobin’s. She had never forgotten anything so important. “So, there’s no Niotian heritage tattoo?”
Charlotte tilted her head to the side. “No. Are you hoping to get a tattoo?”
Nora rolled her eyes. “No.”
This is why she didn’t want to ask questions in the first place. She didn’t have any clues or context to guide her. The matching tattoos, the odd weapons—not to mention the odd people—were clues leading to something, but it felt like she’d never solve the mystery.
“Maybe a tattoo would help.” She laughed bitterly. “I have no idea who I am. A visual reminder might be a good thing.”
Charlotte smoothed the dirt-starched fabric of her skirt and avoided eye contact. She knew something. Why would she hide it?
Nora sat up straighter. They could dance around the unbridgeable gap between them, or she could ask what she really wanted to know. “They’re not coming back, are they? My memories?”
Charlotte grimaced. “I don’t see how that would be possible. Our research shows that once erased, your brain reuses that space for new memories.”
So that was it. She would nev
er remember who she really was. Others could tell her, but she would never know herself. She knew every detail of a hundred random insurance claims, but her details were gone.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she asked, “What kind of person was I? Was I brave?”
Charlotte’s brow creased. “Some say so. I suppose you’re pretty brave to stand in front of the tribunal and use Benjamin Franklin’s words against them.”
“I could quote Benjamin Franklin?”
Charlotte nodded. “The Enlightened Society started as a group of scientists and engineers in the industrial revolution. He was one of our main influences, and his philosophies might as well have been branded on us in school. You told the tribunal that there could be no liberty without freedom of speech.”
Nora imagined herself standing before an imposing panel, refusing to back down.
That sounds brave.
She raised her chin a little higher. “I bet they all feel pretty stupid right about now, don’t they?”
Charlotte stared at her blankly.
“Don’t they?” Nora repeated the question with a little less confidence. “You said I predicted all of this.”
Charlotte let out a long-exaggerated sigh. “Our society is rooted in evidence-based science. Process, evidence, conclusions drawn from the facts; these things matter. You were still in training when you started to preach about all these dire scenarios. None of the other Seers could substantiate your claims.”
“But I was right.”
Was she defending them?
“You were a Seer!” Charlotte shouted. “Do you know how rare that is? Only seven survived the war, and even though we’ve dedicated considerable resources to producing more, you were the first one in almost thirty years.”
She flailed her arms. “People believed you when you spoke, and you used that power to create fear without any evidence. We gave you plenty of opportunity to stop talking about it, but you refused. You reduced your talents to a cheap parlor trick!”
Nora glared at Charlotte. “You still stand by your decision to exile me?”
Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. “I…”
“Why bother coming to get me? Where’s your science and evidence now?”
“That’s why I’m here!” She splayed her hands in front of her. “Yes. At the time of your exile, I was working for the council. You were inciting fear, and I thought we were doing the right thing to maintain peace. No one wanted another war.”
She kept her gaze on her hands. “When Henry showed me the evidence, I knew that even if I didn’t agree with how you spread your message, you had still been right. The Tavians have been sneaking into our district and killing people.”
Nora glowered at her. All the vindication in the world wouldn’t do her any good. Her memories were gone, and she’d lived a lonely shell of a life ever since.
“I’ll never expect you to understand why I did what I did, but I was fighting for peace.” Charlotte shrugged. “Maybe at some point you can respect that I’m admitting I was wrong, and I’m trying to make this right—for you and for Nios.”
Nora folded her arms. A calmer, more sympathetic side of her did respect Charlotte for admitting she was wrong, but that side of her was quickly silenced. She fully believed Charlotte had come to right a wrong, but she could never make it right for Nora. This was about Nios.
Her tense muscles stretched as she rose and patted the back pocket of her capris to make sure her license and debit card were still there. Overnight, she’d decided to stay to learn the truth, and now she’d heard enough.
“What are you doing?” Charlotte asked.
“Leaving.” Nora stalked to the door.
“No, you can’t!” Charlotte flew from her chair. “There’s no way we could have known you were right! Exile was a last resort when you wouldn’t keep your beliefs private!”
Nora spun to face her. “So you exiled me because I believed something different than you?”
Charlotte’s mouth snapped shut.
“You exiled me because you couldn’t see where I was coming from, and you didn’t like what I had to say! Even if what I had said scared you, what gives you the right to assume that your opinion counts more than mine?”
Charlotte’s dark eyes searched the ground.
Nora shook her head. “I have just spent five years thinking I had to do everything everyone expected of me. I stayed extra hours at work even though my bosses took all the credit because I didn’t want to rock the boat. I had nothing beyond my stupid job—no friends, no family. You want to know what I’ve learned from all that? I’d rather be dead than live for people who only see me for what I can do for them. My memories are gone. They’re never coming back. You did that. And now you’re back, hoping I’ll do what’s right for your country. Well, you know what? Nios sounds awful. I don’t want to help you.”
“This helps you too. The Tavians—”
Nora opened the door. “Tobin said my best chance was to hide in a crowd. I’ve gotten pretty good at that.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Tobin won’t like this.”
“I don’t care what Tobin likes!”
Nora slammed the door behind her and stormed to the main office. Even by the interstate, the air was so much fresher outside. She smiled sweetly at the portly woman sitting hunched in a beat-up office chair behind the counter. “Are you able to call me a cab?”
The woman’s face looked like it had been fixed in a scowl for decades. “There are phones in the rooms.”
“Yes, but I’m not from around here, and I’m not sure which company I should call,” No matter what she had to say to get this woman to help her, she’d say it. Going back to the room wasn’t an option.
The woman pursed her lips. “Fine. It’ll probably be a while.”
Nora smiled politely. “Thank you. I’ll be on the bench outside.”
The plastic bags cut into Tobin’s forearm. He didn’t mind the sting so much, but the flimsy bags better not break. From the far end of the parking lot, the motel room door came into view. It hadn’t been kicked in. Nothing seemed amiss. He drew in a quiet breath of relief.
“What did you call this?” Henry asked from behind him.
Tobin chuckled. “A candy bar.”
“It’s amazing. I can’t believe we don’t have them in Nios.”
“Candy bars aren’t good for you, and you know how Nios is about vices.”
Except for a crinkle of the wrapper as he pulled out the rest of the treat, Henry didn’t respond.
Tobin gave the hotel room door a shove and wedged his way into the room with all the bags. He froze. “Where’s Nora?”
Charlotte sprang up from her seat, wringing her hands. “I merely explained the events leading to her exile and—”
“Where is she?” His heart thudded.
Charlotte’s eyebrows pulled together. “She left.”
He dropped the bags and jabbed a finger at Charlotte. “If she dies—from beginning to end—you are to blame.”
“Tobin, I—”
“I don’t care!” he yelled, silencing her. “I don’t care about Nios or your rules and principles. The only reason I’m here is for her.”
“We tried to protect her, too.”
“No, you didn’t. You’re too far up in your ivory tower to actually care about people. The only reason you came back for her was to use her as your personal crystal ball again.”
Charlotte’s mouth dropped open.
Tobin ran from the room and charged toward the front office. She couldn’t be gone.
Not again.
Memories he’d kept locked away burst from their chains, flooding him—her warm smile, the smell of her hair. He had fought it, but it was pointless.
Now that she was with him again, his feelings wouldn’t be denied. And even though it killed him that her eyes were empty of any recognition, he would stay with her, protect her. He didn’t know how to do anything else.
When he’d been a
lone in the mountains, it’d been easy to convince himself that Nora had given up, that she’d allowed this to happen, but it wasn’t true. Focusing his anger on her had helped him to handle the grief and guilt. He hadn’t been able to protect her from the zealots who’d wanted to put her in her place.
That won’t happen again.
Right now, she thought he was one of them, and why wouldn’t she? He hadn’t given her any reason to think otherwise. But regardless of what happened from here, he needed her to know he wasn’t like them. He had never tried to use her.
He craned his neck to see around the cars and trucks in the parking lot, but she wasn’t anywhere. An image of her in a white sundress, standing before him, buckled his knees. Niotians didn’t get married, but he had married her to show her that he would never abandon her regardless of what the council wanted.
Why did it take the threat of losing her again for him to see it? The council was the real enemy. They were manipulative, their pressure had been relentless, and when Nora’s exile sentence had become tied up in appeals, they had resorted to underhanded tactics to get what they’d wanted. None of that was her fault.
I have to find her.
An unhappy woman sat at the desk in the front office, but Nora wasn’t there, either. Charlotte would pay for this.
He’d turned to storm back to the room when he saw Nora, sitting on a bench, staring down the frontage road.
Instant relief.
She was too exposed out here. He could recognize those tensed shoulders anywhere—she didn’t want to be messed with.
But she’s not gone.
He approached slowly. She needed patience, empathy—all those things he was never good at.
But she loved me anyway. I owe this to her.
She did a double-take when she saw him. “If you’re here to lecture me, you’re wasting your time.”
“No lectures.” He sat down next to her on the bench.
“So you’re suddenly not worried about the Tavians?”
“Oh, I’m very worried you’re too exposed out here, but you reminded me of something.” That I love you. That I blamed you because I couldn’t protect you.
Nora glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “And that would be?”
The Seers Page 9