by Jenna Moreci
Evetookinadeepbreath,herbloodascoldasice.Shelistenedintentlyto
thebroadcast,thoughitpainedhertodoso.
“Earliertoday,thepressaskedtheVicePresidentforanupdateonPresident
Woodgate’sstanceonchimerarelations.TheVicePresidentdeclined comment.”
Evewinced. Nocomment—sheknewexactlywhatthatmeant.Herheart
droppedinherchest,andthoughshethoughtgloomanddefeatwould
overcomeher,somethingelsecreptthroughherbones—somethingrawand
empowering. It was the swell of anger that burned within her, inciting her to move,andsoshedid.
Herbootspoundedagainstthefloorasshestormedfromtherecroomand
throughthelobby,andjustastheprimalragenearlyswallowedherwhole,she
stoppedshort.ThedoubledoorsofRutherfordHallstoodinfrontofher,and
shebreathedindeeply.Sheknewwhatwasontheotherside—whatwaswaiting
forherinthecourtyard.Withgreatapprehension,sheglidedherfingersdown
thewoodgrain,grippedtheknob,andshovedthedooropen.
Thecrowdofprotestorssurgedandroared,theirbodieslumpingtogether
like a massive, multi-headed beast. They were ravenous and persistent, their fervorgrowingstrongerandmoreheatedwitheachpassingday.Evewatched
themforamoment,glancingacrossthescribbledsignstheyheldabovetheir
heads.
SAVETHEHUMANS,CRUSHTHECHIMES
PROTECTTHEHUMANRACE,DESTROYCHIMERACOUNTRY
INTERLOPERS,YOUCANHAVETHECHIMES,WEDON’TWANTTHEM!
Withgrittedteethandnootheroptions,Eveforcedherwaythroughthe
throng of people. They shouted at her, shoving their signs in her face as she shouldered her way through the maze of bodies. With an assertive push, she brokefreefromthepackandstumbledintotheoppositesideofthecourtyard.
Thefaint,calmingbreezeofearlyOctoberdancedacrossEve’sface,though
it was little consolation; the hatred was spreading until it literally waited for heratherdoorstep.Eveturnedtolookbackattheprotestors,andinsteadshe
sawMarshallWoodgate’smangledbodyhanginginthecenterofthe
courtyard.Shegasped,blinkedtwice,andhewasgone.
Anger:itseethedinsideofheryetagain,remindingherwhereshewas
headedandwhy.Shemarchedforward,shovingherhandsdeepintothe
pocketsofherjeansinordertopacifyherquakingfists.ItwasSaturday,and
thecampuswasrelativelyempty,butEveknewofonemanwhoseemingly
neverleftthegatesofBillington.Shewascountingonhimtobethere,
shufflingthroughpaperworkasifdoomedtodosofortherestoftime,andso
her fuming rage led her to the dean’s building, where she was met by the surprisedfaceofthereceptionist.
“CanI—”ShestoppedshortasEvestompedrightpasther.“Miss? Miss?
Whereareyougoing?”
Eveheadeddownthehallway,payingnoattentiontothereceptionistwho
scuttledbehindher,wobblingonherstilettosandflailingherarmsintheair.
“Youcan’tgobacktherewithoutanappointment! ”
EvebargedthroughFurst’sofficedoorandmarchedtohisdesk,slapping
herhandsonhistoweringmoundofpaperwork.
“Weneedtotalk,”shegrowled.“Now. ”
Furstwasbarelyaffectedbythedisplay.Hiseyesfloatedabovetherimofhis
glassesashelookedupatEve,andthenbehindhertohispanic-stricken
receptionist.
“Sir,”shefranticallystuttered,“Itriedtostopher.”
“It’sallright,dear.”
“ButDoctor—”
“MissKingstonisdoingmeaveryimportantfavor,”hereplied,castinga
disapproving glare in Eve’s direction. “The least I can do is humor her little interruptionthis onetime.”
Thereceptionistobedientlybowedherchinandlefttheroom,closingthe
doorbehindher.Evewastednotime;sheturnedtoFurst,thirstyforanswers.
“TellmewhatyouknowabouttheInterlopers.”
Furstpushedhisglassesbacktothebridgeofhisnoseandcasually
organizedthetrinketsonhisdesk.“ItakeittheVicePresident’sspeechisstill onthenews.”Henoddedtowardtheburgundyleatherchairinfrontofhim.
“Haveaseat.”
“I’dratherstand.”
Hesighed.“Perhapsthat’sforthebest.Mytimeislimited,andI’msureyou
won’tbestayingforverylong.”
“Youdidn’tanswermyquestion.”
“Andthatwasintentional.Quitefrankly,I’msurprisedyou’repursuingthis
avenueagain,asitdidn’tgarnermuchsuccessforyouthefirsttime.”
Evecrossedherarms,unimpressedwiththedean’sbittertone.“Whatwere
youtalkingaboutwiththecolonel?Whatdothey have that’ssoimportant?And forGod’ssakewho—or what—isFairon?”
“MissKingston,you’reanintelligentyoungwoman—toointelligentto
possiblybelieveIwouldreveal anyofthisinformationtoyou.”
“IneedtoknowwhatI’mdealingwith.We’reallindanger—”
“Andthat’swhywehavepatrolmenguardingthecampus.“
“Right,youbeefedupsecurity,andnowthepresident’ssonisdead.”
Furstgrumbled,“Irealizetheeventsthathaveoccurredareunfortunate—”
“MarshallWoodgatewas murdered.It’snotunfortunate,it’sa tragedy.”
“Everyonewasdeeplyaffectedbyhisdeath—”
“Did everyonefindhistorturedbodyhangingintheRutherfordcourtyard?”
Furstcockedhisheadalmostpatronizingly.“Itwasaterriblesightto
witness,I’msure,butthepolicewon’tbereleasingyournametothepublicas
thediscovererofMr.Woodgate’sbody.Youcantakesolaceinthat.”
“I’mnot lookingforsolace.I’mlookingfor answers.”
“AnswersIcannotprovide.”
“Don’tyougetit?TheInterlopersgotexactlywhattheywanted.Chimeras
arepublicenemynumberonenow. Everyoneisagainstus.”
“Anexaggeration,I’msure.”
“Peopleare protesting,Furst,rightwhereIfoundMarshall’sbody.”
Hesighedyetagain,thistimeloudly.“SupposeIdoansweryourquestions.
Whatdoyouplanondoingwiththeinformation?”
Evedidn’trespond.Insteadshestaredbackathim,herjawclenchedandeyes
squintedintoaglare.
“JustasIsuspected—youdon’tknow.”
“That’sbesidesthepoint.We’reeasiertargetsfortheInterlopersnowmore
thanever.”Sheleanedinclosertohim.“Thepatrolmencan’tdefendus—that
muchisclear.Ineedtoknowwhat youknow.”
“WhatIknowisthatmattersbetweenthecolonelandmyselfarenoneof
yourbusiness—”
“Dammit,Furst—”
“I also know that security across campus has been increased to the highest degreepossiblewithoutcausingasenseofpanicamongstudents.The
patrolmenaremorethancapableofkeepingyousafe,andasidefromlast
week’shiccup—”
“MarshallWoodgatewasa hiccup?”
“Youhavenothingto fear,MissKingston,”thedeanasserted,hisgazenow justasfirmasEve’s.“ThatiswhatIcantellyou.”
Evestopped,herbodyheated,herlungsthrobbingwithinherchest.
/> “Sothat’sit?You’rereallygoingtoleavemewithnothing?”
“Andwhatwereyouexpecting?”
Hisface—theweatheredlines;thefine,whitehairsandlimpskin—hadtaken
on new form in Eve’s eyes. It was a look she had seen before: in Heather McLeod,inChinDimple,insomanyothersfromherpast.Shehatedthatface
and all that it stood for. More than anything, she hated the anger still blazing withinher.
“You jackass.”
“MissKingston,you willwatchyourtonguearoundmeor—”
“Orwhat?You’llexpelme?I’msureyoursenatorialfriendwillbe soupset tohearthatMr.Valentinelosthistutorbecauseofyou.”
Furst’slipscurledintoanuglyglower.“Thereare otherchimeras.”
“Butnoonequitelikeme,andthat, mydear,isafact.”
Withoutanotherword,Eveleftthedean’sofficejustasabruptlyasshehad
enteredandmarchedaimlesslyacrosscampus.Herhandstrembledathersides
ashermindbecamefloodedwithanxietyandregret.Shehadbehaved
erratically—hell,shehadcalledtheuniversitypresidenta jackass—andtowhat end?
Her outburst was of little importance, or so she told herself, and she did her besttoshaketheconfrontationfromherthoughts.ButjustasFurst’s
deplorablefacelefthermind,shesawthem—theInterlopers,Marshall
Woodgate,theneedleslodgeddeepintohiseyes—andshewasimmediately
overwhelmedwithasenseofhelplessness.
“Eve!”Avoiceshoutedbehindher.“Slowdown!”
EvestoppedandturnedtoseeArmaanrunningtowardher.Shewaitedfor her pint-sized escort, all the while watching his shaggy mane bob back and forthatophisheadashefrolickedacrossthecourtyard.
“Geez,Eve,I’vebeenlookingalloverforyou,”hepanted,finallytrottingto
herside.“Whatwereyoudoinginthedean’sbuilding,anyway?”
“Wastingmytime,apparently,”shemuttered.
“Well,you’relatefortutoringtoday.Weneedtohustle.”
“They’remakingyouescortmeonweekends,too?God,Armaan,doyou
evergetadayoff?”
Heshrugged.“Idon’tmind,really.ThemoreI’mattheward,thebettermy
chancesareofgettingintothemedicalprogram.”
“Still, it doesn’t seem fair. Just because I’m obligated to be there every day doesn’tmeanyoushouldbe,too.It’smyburden,notyours.”
ArmaanglancedupatEve.“Psh,yeah, right,”hescoffed.“Your burden.”
Eve’sheadspuntowardhim.“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”
“Nothing.”
“Thatwasn’t‘ nothing.’”
“Yesitwas.”
“Youmeantsomethingbyit.”
Armaan let a smile slip as if he knew a scandalous secret. “I just think that maybeyou’reenjoyingyourtimeintheisolationwingmorethanyou’re
lettingon.”
“Andwhywouldyoujumptothatconclusion?”
“WordinthewardisthatJasonisstrugglingwithhisgift,whichisratherodd,
seeingasyou’vebeentellingmehowinsanelydynamiche’sbeendoing.”
“So?”Shecrossedherarms.“Maybethey’vegottheirfactsmixedup.”
“OrmaybeyouliedabouthimtoFurst,”Armaancounteredwithawink.
“ButwhatdoIknow?I’mjustateenagegenius.”
Evegrumbled,“SoItoldalittlewhitelie.Ihadthebestintentions.”
“WerethoseintentionstospendmoretimewithJason?”
“DoyouthinkI wanttotutorhimsevendaysaweek?”
“Idon’t thinkyoudo.I knowyoudo.”
Sherolledhereyes.“Armaan,please.”
“It’scute,Eve.Don’tfightit.”
Shescowledatherfriend,unamusedbyhisquip.“Look,Jason’salot
stronger than I anticipated. I thought if we spent more time together, I could helphimreachhisfullpotential.”
“SoyouliedtoFurstinorderto helpJason?Ithadnothingtodowithhistight musclesorcharmingsmile?”
“Okay,whosupposedlyhasacrushonhim—me,oryou?”
Armaanpaused.“Fairenough.Igotcarriedawayforasecond.”
Thetwosomeenteredthemedicalwardandheadedfortheelevators.Eve
lookeddownatArmaan—hisfacestilldonnedasillygrin,whichirkedherto
thecore—andshesighedloudly.
“Jason’sgiftisgrowingmorepowerfuleachday.Afewsessionsaweek couldtakehimtothenextlevel.Ithoughtthatwasagoalworthpursuing.Don’t
you?”
“I’msorry,didyousaysomething?Iwastoobusyimaginingyourwedding
day.You’lllook sobeautifulinwhite,Eve.”
EveglaredatArmaaninsilence,hoveringoverhistinybodyintheelevator.
“Icouldpunchyourightnow.”
“Pleasedon’t,I’mveryfragile.”
Theelevatordoorsopenedbeforethem,andEvehurrieddownthehallway,
eager to be rid of Armaan’s dopey smile and wild accusations. She saw the isolationwinginthedistance,andhereyesimmediatelyshottowardthenearby
clerk’sdesk—noHeathertoday,thankfully.ShehandedherIDbadgetothe
toweringsecurityguard,andasthedoorswungopen,shepromptlymadeher
way inside, catching a glimpse of her small friend as the door closed behind her.
Heflashedherasmuggrin.“Havefunwithyour boyfriend.”
Evegrabbedatthedoorhandleandpushedherheadthroughtheopening.
“He’s notmyboyfriend!”
Withachildishpout,shechargedthroughthewingandburstintoJason’s
room. Jason was sitting at his desk, his forehead wrinkled as he glided his fingersacrosshisscratchpad,undoubtedlycatchinguponhisstudies.He
turnedtogreetherandsmiled,andthoughshewantedtoclingtoherlingering
frustrations,shefeltherspiritsliftjusttheslightestbit.
“Noticeanythingdifferent?”heasked.
Eveglancedathischest,whichforthefirsttimesincetheirsessionsbegan
wasmiraculouslyclothed.“You’renothalf-naked?”
“Veryfunny.”Heliftedthebottomofhist-shirt.“Howaboutnow?”
Hereyesscannedacrosshischiseledabdomen.Shequicklylookedaway.
“I’msorry,”shestuttered,“whatamIlookingat?”
“Thescar,whatelse?Theyremovedmystaples.”
“Oh.”Evehadalmostforgottenabouthisscar,butshesawitnow—thepink
incisionlinewassurroundedbysmallpuncturemarkswherethestapleshad
oncebeen.“Howwasit?”
“Hurtlikehell.Thedoctorsaidthey’dlefttheminforwaytoolong.Guess
it’shardertotellwithpeoplelikeus.”
Eveploppedherbodyintoherusualseat.“So,whatnow?Areyoufreetogo?”
“I’mstillhere,aren’tI?”Hestoodupandstretchedhisback.“Theysaidthey
wanttokeepmeherealittlewhilelongerfor observation.”
Evesighed;sheknewwhat“observation”trulymeant.
“AnynewsonMarshallWoodgate?Thepolicedidn’ttellanyone,right?No
oneknowsyoufoundthebody?”
Thesoundofhisnamealonesentachillthroughherbones.“Theykeptmy
nameanonymous.”
“Andtheprotestors?”
“Worseandworsebytheday.”
Theroomfellsilent,thoughEveknewitwouldn’tremainsoforlong.Jason
/>
satinfrontofher,hiselbowsrestingonhisknees,hiseyesstaringbackather withthatall-too-familiarlook—alookthatwouldcertainlyleadtoaquestion.
“Areyouokay?”
“Jason,I’m fine,”shegrowled.
“Youfoundadeadbody.YoucanunderstandwhyI’dbeconcerned.”
“And youcanunderstandwhyIwouldn’twanttotalkaboutit.”
Hesighed.“Look,Iwon’taskagain,ifthat’swhatyouwant.Youkeep
peopleatarm’slength—Igetthat.Ijusthopethat,bynow,youknowyoucan
trustme.”
Eveshrankbackinherchair;hishonestystungliketheripofabandagefrom
her ever-resilient pride. She couldn’t stand it: his disarming presence, that quality, whatever it was, that made her feel so completely at ease and uncomfortable all at the same time. Usually her intuition told her to trust no one,butinthecaseofJason,herinstinctswereskewed,shoutingmixed
messagesandconflictingdatalikeacomputersystemgonehaywire.She
lookedupathim.
“Iseehim—Marshall.Iseehimallthetime.”
Jason’sheadperkedup.“Yeah?”
Shestoodfromherseatandfretfullypacedacrosstheroom.“Theneedles
juttingoutofhiseyes.Thebloodpouringfromhissockets.”Shestopped
suddenlyandparkedherselfbesidehim,sinkingintohisweatheredmattress.
“Youknow,I’veseenmorethanmyfairshareof…”—shepaused,struggling
togetthewordout—“… death.Ithoughtit’dgeteasier.Iwaswrong.“
Jasongrabbedherhandandsqueezedittightly.Itwasshocking—likeapulse
ofelectricityburstfromhisfingersintohers—andthenitfadedintowarmth.
Intoexactlywhatsheneeded.Sheletoutalong,deepbreath.
“Thanks.”
“Forwhat?”
“Forbeingso…”Shehesitated.“So you.”
“So me?”
“Forgivingashit.”
Hechuckled.“Icareaboutyou,Eve.”
Thetwostaredblanklyatthewallinfrontofthem,andinthatmomentEve
feltstrong,liberated,and angry.Ragewasboilinginsideofheronceagainas thoughtsofMarshallandtheInterlopersovertookher.
“Youknowwhatthey’redoing,right?”SheturnedtoJason.“TheInterlopers