Not to think of the little girl Nix and the little boy Nix being turned day by day into weapons.
Not to think of the things that little Natalie might do once they let her go.
“Thanks for the warning, but we don’t need it.” Claire was surprised to find her voice textured in complement to Nix’s. Lower. Darker. Even. “We want the real information. What’s The Society’s Achilles’ heel? How do we destroy the institute? Both levels, all of the drugs.”
The Sensor ran one of his knuckles up the bridge of his nose, like a person who’d worn glasses for many years before switching to contacts. “The Society has a fail-safe mechanism. An insurance policy against exposure. If any individual branch is threatened with imminent and widespread exposure—if the press break in, or the police start making arrests, or anyone infiltrates the security far enough to get ahold of classified files, the directive to meltdown is given.”
“Meltdown?” Claire found herself sickly fascinated with the idea.
“The entire institute is equipped to self-destruct within a five-minute window. Once activated, the self-destruct mechanism cannot be undone. Five minutes after activation, the building and anyone inside are dust.” He paused. “Both levels.”
“What’s the catch?” Nix asked the question before Claire could get to it. “Why would The Society make it that easy to take the institute down?”
“Who said that activating the self-destruct mechanism was easy?” The Sensor shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I assure you, it’s not a simple matter of pushing a red button. Were that the case, I would hardly have to enlist Nobodies as help.”
Claire didn’t respond to those words. Neither did Nix. Eventually, the Sensor elaborated.
“To activate self-destruction, you need two keys. The keys are in the possession of the two heads of the institute, who must agree that the breach of security is severe enough to merit meltdown.”
“Ione.” The muscles in Nix’s throat visibly tightened as he spoke the name, and Claire felt her own clenching in empathy.
“Ione has one key,” the Sensor agreed. “And Sergei has the other.”
“Sergei?”
Claire arched an eyebrow at Nix, surprised that there was someone at the institute who he’d never met.
“Sergei is an All Sensor. The only one in North America. He’s a bit of a recluse, but his powers are unparalleled, so his position at The Society has never been in question. He lives in a penthouse on the top floor of the institute. If you explored it, you probably didn’t find it to your liking. Very plain, very severe. Sergei is a dangerous man, and he finds Nobodies rather … aversive.”
Claire thought of the four Sensors she’d seen since coming after Nix. “I’m guessing that by All Sensor, you mean that he—”
“Is gifted in all five senses? Yes, quite. He’s from an old Society family—the bloodline goes back to the old country and then some. He’s also remarkably lethal. He doesn’t leave the institute and he doesn’t enjoy being around people—sensory overload, you see. You’ll need to infiltrate his quarters and find his key. It will likely be on his person; Ione wears hers around her neck.”
Situation: What if your boyfriend’s evil mother was wearing the key to the kingdom around her neck, and you had to get it to save the world? What if you knew that he couldn’t do it, because seeing her would tear him apart and make him vulnerable?
What if you had the chance to kill her?
Claire shook her head. Actually, physically shook it. Because as much as she wanted to hurt The Society and the people who’d hurt Nix, she didn’t want to be the type of person who could think of murder and smile.
“So we get the keys,” Nix cut in. “What do we do with them?”
The Sensor started talking about the location of the self-destruct trigger, and Claire, with no frame of reference with which to ground the directions, found herself tuning out, picturing Nix’s mother. His little brother and sister.
Natalie.
“I know the location you’re describing.” Nix’s voice broke into Claire’s thoughts, and she forced herself to concentrate on the present. “Never knew what it was, but I know where it is. Getting to it won’t be a problem.”
The Sensor replied, addressing his comments to the space just over Nix’s left shoulder. “It’s not getting to the mechanism that’s the problem, although I assure you that no one besides a Nobody would have the ability to do so without the proper security clearance.” The Sensor paused, and Claire prepared herself. If getting to the mechanism wasn’t the problem that meant that there was a problem. And problems, when they involved The Society, tended to be deadly. Just ask Senator Wyler. Just ask Evan Sykes.
“The chamber in which the trigger is housed is rigged. The moment one of the keys is inserted, poisonous gas is emitted into the room. It reacts to flesh like acid, can eat through any protective materials you might wear in an attempt to circumvent your skin’s melting off your body, and a single breath is fatal. Death is instantaneous to anyone inside the fail-safe chamber when the key is inserted.”
After she got past the mental image of a skeleton leaking skin, Claire could not help but see the flaw in the logic of such a system. “Why would Sergei and Ione ever agree that a meltdown was necessary if it meant they had to die?”
The Sensor chuckled. Nervous laughter that Claire suspected had nothing to do with the fact that he was talking to people who mattered no more than the average ball of dust and everything to do with the fact that he was planning the destruction of all that had ever mattered to him. At the request of an eight-year-old girl. “Ione and Sergei are immune to the poison. They’ve been taking it in very, very small doses since they ascended to power. It takes two years to develop the immunity, and it’s part of the screening process for promotion. If you die because of the treatments, you’re fired.”
The Society doesn’t care who dies, Claire thought dully. It kills Nobodies. They kill Nulls. They kill their own without a second thought.
Claire was caught between wanting to shiver and wanting to growl. She was fifteen. Nix wasn’t much older. The Society had been around for thousands of years, and there was no one else to stop it. Stop them.
Nix and Claire had to do this.
They were going to do this.
“Gas can’t poison what’s not there.” Nix’s voice regained a bit of its edge, and Claire felt it on every inch of her skin. “The mechanism isn’t Nobody-proofed.”
The Sensor shrugged. “Design flaw, I suppose. Though, of course, one must solidify to insert the keys, and then fade again within an instant to avoid certain death.”
Clearly, the idea of putting a Nobody in danger wasn’t a problem for the Sensor. Shocking, Claire thought. Out loud, she said, “So we activate the mechanism. What next?”
Nix laid his hand on the back of her neck, and Claire felt his appreciation that she could be his voice when he didn’t have one and ask the questions on the tip of his tongue.
“While one of you initiates the self-destruct sequence, the other will need to go to B-4. The children’s quarters.”
I know what you’re hiding in the lower levels there. Those were the words that Sykes had used to threaten Ione. The ones with which he’d signed his own death warrant. The Society kept children in the lower levels of the institute, and Sykes had wanted a slice of the Nobody pie. A pet assassin of his very own.
The Sensor continued, “I’ve snuck a look at Milano’s files, and the math is straightforward enough. Three Nobodies should be strong enough to cover one Null for a very short period of time, if the Null is willing. Natalie has been practicing with X-17 and X-18. She’ll be ready.”
Taking the Null drug into the fade had sent a shock up Claire’s arm. It had stirred something in her stomach, made her nauseous. She wondered what taking a live Null with her would do.
“X-17 and X-18?” Nix hissed, enmity dripping from each syllable like blood from the tip of a blade. “They’re not numbers. They
’re kids. And there’s no way I’m taking a Null to the fade. You said it yourself: Null blood and Nobody blood are powerful, tricky things. What do you think is going to happen if we take a body full of Null blood into the fade?”
Nix tried to calm the revulsion in his gut. He’d taken Claire into the fade, back when he’d thought she was a Null—but that was before he’d felt what it was like when Claire brought the Null drug with her. Nix couldn’t push down the surge of disgust he felt, just thinking about it now.
He hated Nulls, and the fade was sacred, and The Sensor had called his little sister X-17.
I can’t even look at Null-2. Claire had to hold the vial. I have a sister.
The thoughts blurred together in Nix’s mind. Claire pressed her body lightly to the side of Nix’s, and all up and down the left half of his body, Nix felt the gentle reassurance of her presence. The fury simmering beneath his surface calmed, still ready, still hot, but contained enough that he could put it into words, feel it without putting his body into motion.
All the Sensor cared about was the little Null. Demented by the girl’s powers, he was willing to sell out the principles for which Nix and his siblings had been bought, trained, tortured, and enslaved.
I believe their trainers call them Nix.
X-17. X-18. Nix and Nix. Nothing. Nobody.
Nix hated this. Hated that The Society could still hurt him. Hated that he wanted to scream. Hated that he couldn’t get the children’s cherubic faces, distorted by the dunk tanks, out of his mind.
Nix had never had a family before. And now he had one, and all this man cared about was the Null. The Null who’d been practicing God knows what with his little brother and sister. Nix couldn’t think about the fact that the children were probably as Null-struck as this pathetic excuse for a man beside him.
Saving Natalie might be a necessary evil—but that didn’t mean Nix wanted to think about it. About what Natalie could do. About what she might do, if she grew up into a bright-eyed, red-haired woman.
Necessary evil or not, Nix couldn’t swallow the idea of bringing that thing to the fade. The one place that Nobodies mattered. The only place where the real world couldn’t touch them or hurt them or mess with their minds. Sanctuary. Paradise.
“Covering Natalie with your collective powers is the only way to get her away from the scientists. Do you know what they do to her? They make her bleed. They hurt her. They make her hurt things. She doesn’t like it. She wants out.”
For a moment, the Sensor’s face changed, and his tone and words became someone else’s. Nix could almost picture the girl from the photograph saying these things.
They’re hurting me. They make me hurt things. I don’t like it.
And then the Sensor snapped out of it, and his words became his own again. “You need me if you want to destroy the institute.”
“Why?” Nix kept his voice even. “We know about the keys. We know where the children are. We know about the self-destruct mechanism. Why do we need you?”
Beside him, Claire’s mouth dropped open slightly, and Nix realized that the idealistic part of her wanted to save Natalie. Wanted to believe that she was just a little girl. And that was exactly why Nix couldn’t let Claire anywhere near the Null. Tender hearts were child’s play for Nulls, and Claire was an open book.
The Sensor clearly didn’t—couldn’t—feel betrayed that Nix was already reneging on his promise. Instead, he continued speaking in the same calm, neutral tone. “You need me to destroy the institute, because I can make your files disappear from the mainframe. The computer systems are set to automatically upload all content to off-site backup hard drives the moment the self-destruct sequence is initiated. Milano’s possessive enough of his research that he hasn’t uploaded it to the mainframe yet, so destroying the institute will destroy the formulas for the serums. Your files, on the other hand, are in the computer, and Ione has activated certain security protocols to remind us of your existence and the threat you represent. After the institute is destroyed, there will inevitably be some kind of investigation, most likely spearheaded by the European office. They’ll go through everything, talk to everyone. The people involved will likely forget about you and almost certainly won’t be able to provide any kind of details, but unless I destroy the electronic trail, you’ll have the whole of The Society nipping at your heels.”
With great effort, the Sensor flicked his eyes to Nix’s face and then to Claire’s, and Nix got the message loud and clear.
“Tonight, when I go back to the institute, I’ll remove your files from the computers and upload them on to an external hard drive. If you bring me Natalie, I’ll give you the disk. Ione and Sergei will go down with the blast, and in the chaos of reorganization, the two of you and X-17 and X-18 will almost certainly be forgotten in the aftermath.”
Unless, of course, the Sensor saved the files and gave them to the remaining branches of The Society, which he would gladly do if Nix didn’t give him Natalie in return.
“We give you Natalie. You give us—all of us—our freedom.” Claire put the terms of the agreement into words.
“Yes. Save Natalie. You must.” The Sensor’s eyes took on that fevered look again. “And the only way you can save her is to make her fade. She’s bright, so bright, so beautiful, that she’ll be hard to hide. The world won’t want to let her go. But there are four of you. Unprecedented. Absolutely unprecedented. You’re strong. You can save her. I know you can.”
Nix’s lip curled upward, and his fingers curled down, driving his nails into the skin of his palm. Fading was power. Energy. Release. It was his. The one thing that no one could take away. The only thing the universe had given him to make up for all it had taken away when he’d been born terminally unimportant.
Null. Faded.
To Nix, it was blasphemy. Like sleeping with a dead animal. Like rolling over and exposing your soft underbelly to a beast that wanted to tear out your entrails. It was stupid, and it was wrong.
Necessary evil.
Nix gritted his teeth and clamped down on the roar of emotions circling each other in his gut.
It’s not my job to kill Nulls. Not anymore. It’s not my responsibility to turn myself into a monster so the rest of humanity can live free and clear.
Numbly, dispassionate, Nix nodded his assent. If this was the cost of freedom, so be it. Nix met the Sensor’s eyes, even though the old man didn’t quite reciprocate the gaze. And then he said the one word that set things fully and irrevocably in motion. “Tonight.”
The Sensor nodded. “Tonight. The information I gave you says where. And remember: no Natalie, no files.”
Null. Null. Null.
Refusing to look at the Sensor or at Claire, Nix turned and slipped into nothingness, feeling like he’d left a chunk of himself behind.
Claire nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to find the right thing to say—like there was a right thing to say in a situation like this. Nix hadn’t uttered so much as a single word to her since they’d let the Sensor go.
He’d headed back to the cabin. Claire had followed.
He’d lifted one of the panels on the wooden floor, revealing a weapons cache much bigger than the one Claire had kept under the porch. She’d silently knelt beside him, laying out the spread as he unearthed wires, rope, and needles. Knives. Guns. Darts. An ice pick, several bags of white powder, and a variety of explosives.
“Take off your clothes.”
Nix’s voice washed over Claire’s body. Deep. Reassuring. It wasn’t until the words disappeared from the air that she realized their content.
“Take off my …?”
“I would give anything to leave you here. To keep you safe. But one of us has to initiate the meltdown while the other one gets the children. This isn’t a job for one Nobody. It’s a job for two. And even if it wasn’t, you’d come. Where I go, you follow. Even if I could keep you safe, you wouldn’t want it. I know you—you won’t even stay away from the Null.”
Null. Null. Null.
If Claire hadn’t already known how Nix felt about Nulls, the venom he put into that word would have told her more than enough.
“Take off your clothes,” Nix said, repeating the order. He stood and stalked out of the room, returning a moment later with two pairs of pants and two shirts: one for him and one for her. Not bothering to expand on his earlier command, he followed the advice he had given her, stripping off his shirt.
Sleek. Stone cold. Hard. His stomach looked like it had been carved from marble. Every muscle was tensed. Taut.
Ready.
Biting her bottom lip again, Claire brought her fingers to the end of her own shirt. Nix wrapped an Ace bandage around his middle, and with expert fingers, he began to weave and tie knots in it, twisting and turning the fabric to form pockets. Claire watched the motion, hypnotized, her own limbs still frozen.
Dagger.
Darts.
Some kind of double-edged blade.
Nix tucked the weapons into his makeshift halter. One wrong move, and he’d slice himself open.
Guns were strapped to his ankles. Wires were wrapped around his wrists. Claire stared down at her own hands—miniature compared to his. After an elongated moment, she lifted up the end of her oversized shirt, revealing an expanse of suntanned skin underneath.
Without a word, Nix came to stand behind her. Wrapping his arms around her body, he strapped a knife to her side, his fingers brushing against the flat of her back as he did.
“Do you know how to use this?” he asked.
“It’s a knife,” Claire replied. “You stab it.”
Nix almost smiled. Almost. He tapped her jugular. “Slice,” he said, and then he trailed his hand over her shirt and down her chest, until it rested inside her rib cage. “Stab. If you can’t reach the torso, go for the femoral artery. Here.” He indicated the place on her leg, his touch light. Then, carefully, he turned her around to face him.
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