by T. K. Toppin
I blinked. “What?” Jeez, they were so alike. Did they practice asking questions like this when they were young? “Adam?”
John clicked his tongue. “Josie, there’s not much that happens inside this Citadel I don’t know about. Did he want to know who you were?”
I nodded, rolled my eyes, then let out a long, weary sigh. So he probably knew about my meeting with Simon. Shit. No point evading the inevitable. No wonder he looked upset. I struggled to my feet and faced him, digging my hands into my pockets to brace myself.
I have no secrets from him, I had told Adam. “Look, John…” My throat jammed, so I cleared it. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“So tell me.” So softly, like a threat, a dare—almost as if he expected my confession.
Sucking in a breath, I told him everything, of the night before, of what I saw in Lorcan’s house, of what I told Simon, and of my conversation with Adam that morning.
While I spoke, nerves made my feet shift. I rocked on my heels, my shoulders jerked up continuously and my eyes darted everywhere—all those tells of the guilty—at the floor, the scene outside, at his eyes, the hard set of his jaw. But all the while, I kept my hands firmly wedged in my pockets, balled into tight fists, one hand clutching the yellow marble. I felt like I was ten, being reprimanded by my math teacher for not remembering to do my homework.
John watched impassively at first, but as my account progressed, his face grew darker and more dangerous. I could see him certifying me as a lunatic. He lowered his head, but still he glared at me from under knotted brows, mouth firm, cheeks taut with controlled emotion. When I finished, I was petrified. The silence stretched for a full minute.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Again, that maddeningly calm, deathly quiet voice.
“I—what if I was wrong? I didn’t want to upset you. I mean it’s ludicrous, right?” I clutched my arms tightly against my chest. I’d fucked it up royally now. “Right?”
He stood, and came very close to me. I didn’t dare look up, but knew he was burning me alive with his eyes. His mouth grazed the middle of my forehead; his warm breath scorched me. A hand snaked up and he held my face, tilting it upward to meet his eyes. His fingers slid around so they firmly grasped the back of my neck.
“Don’t ever think, not for a minute, that you cannot tell me anything.” John’s face was the model of concern, saddened, but his voice was lethal; it chilled my spine so that I nearly gasped. I shut my mouth with effort, knowing it trembled, and nodded. I couldn’t take my eyes off his; they scored me with a suppressed rage and, though I couldn’t be sure, they appeared to be red-rimmed and watery with tears. “Next time, you’ll come to me first. Promise me.”
I nodded.
“Say it.” He squeezed my neck and shook me once. I gasped in surprise.
“I promise.”
He let me go and walked past, slamming the glass door with his open hand as he left; it shuddered as it shut with a bang. I jumped, but didn’t turn around. Standing there a moment, I worked on controlling my breathing, clutching myself steady. Then, when I was certain he’d gone, I sat down and cried.
Chapter 39
John dearly wanted to strangle that woman! That he didn’t was a feat in itself. How could she even think not to tell him about something so, so—
Coherent words left him.
In frustration, he banged the side of his fist on the desk. Again. He’d returned to his offices in a blur of insulted rage and stalked about the room like a caged animal for a good half hour. Now, anger managed to the point where he could actually see, he sat brooding in his chair, head thrust back on the headrest, one arm draped over the armrest and the other thumping away on the desk. His chair was swiveled to one side so he could gaze out at the conservatory.
That wasn’t the real reason anger consumed him. John knew that now. It was the fact that she had chosen to tell Simon first, rather than him, and it hurt his pride and ego. He felt insulted.
No. She used her head and spoke to the first person who would listen to her with a clear head. Someone who wouldn’t try to throttle her on the spot!
He banged his fist to his desk again.
Idiot!
Remembering the terror on her face, guilt surged up inside him. No wonder she didn’t tell you first. You behave like such an uncouth beast, it’s a wonder she loves you at all!
Shame heated his face, making it throb. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. A tiny spark of panic constricted his chest. What if he’d ruined everything with Josie now? His behavior was unforgivable.
“Calm down,” John muttered and took three deeps breaths, trying to clear his head. He redirected his thoughts, a surefire way to level out his emotions.
Adam. What was this all about? Impossible. He knew his brother. Adam wouldn’t do such a thing, wouldn’t even be involved in something so heinous. This was just wrong; it just couldn’t be so. Not the Adam he knew, who he grew up with, admired and respected. Yes, Adam was vain and greedy, full of himself. But to resort to terrorism? Murder? It just couldn’t be.
He thumped the desk again.
But Josie had seen something—someone. Someone with a peculiar habit, a habit he’d grown up watching, had come to associate with his brother, and had learned to ignore like background noise until he didn’t even realize it was there. Yet, there it was. She’d seen it. She’d been right before, twice, and that led to his life being saved. Twice.
But could she be wrong?
John had come to know how Josie’s mind worked. She saw things a little differently than other people did, with a different focus. A minor detail to some stood out glaringly for her. And with her artist’s mind at work, she unconsciously processed information she didn’t even know she’d seen. He didn’t doubt or think she’d made it all up. It wasn’t in her nature to make things up like that. She’d seen something.
And Adam. If it was him…
Something oily snaked down John’s belly. His chest tightened. Air left his lungs.
Did he see her? Is that why they’re trying to kill her? Do they think she saw more than she should?
A flurry of emotions shot through John. He wanted to strangle Wellesley now for exposing her to such danger. He wanted to strangle his brother. Adam—was he a traitor? Her encounter with Adam this morning, what had it been about? Did Adam suspect something? Did he think she’d recognized him? Or was it just Adam’s suspicious nature? Adam had asked him already—pestered him to no end. Was it just brotherly concern about whom he was involved with? John needed to know. He needed answers.
John punched his desk again, making sure it hurt so it would staunch the red-hot anger surging through him.
Simon. He needed Simon.
Chapter 40
Anger coursed through me. Especially since I’d allowed myself to whimper in the face of John’s wrath. I also raged at him for being so pig-headed about the whole thing. What a frigging brute! Big old, classic he-man, brute! I am the man, so what I say goes. Neanderthal! I hunt, you gather.
In my day, I could have him up on charges of assault, physical and emotional. These days, I honestly didn’t know what the law was. But I certainly wasn’t about the let John get away with bullying me into anything. Right or wrong, never again.
But what angered me most was not knowing what to do next.
Since the day I woke up over a year ago, I had happily followed where others led. I had put complete trust in them, like a child knowing there was safety and assurance that someone was always there to show me what to do.
But now I wanted it to change. I didn’t like not being able to control things. I especially loathed being told what to do. I wanted my own assurances, my own peace of mind. I wanted to be able to take charge of myself.
Grow up!
But I was scared shitless. And I had no idea where to start.
For the hundredth time, I paced the confines of my bedroom. After John left and I’d had my fill of baw
ling about the whole thing, I retreated to my room with the thought that I needed to put my shield on. I’d done so hastily, then sat on the bed at a loss as to what to do next.
Sitting and waiting until Simon got back to me was a waste of time; that much was certain. And no doubt John had already intercepted Simon and beaten him to a pulp and, whatever information Simon did find, I could be certain they wouldn’t tell me anyway.
I pocketed my krima and paused before the door. What did I think I was going to do? I wasn’t sure, but to wait until someone told me would drive me mad.
Enough. It was time for change. Starting now!
Find Adam. That was it.
I was crazy for even thinking it. What would it achieve? Something. Anything. Nothing. Maybe I just needed to talk to him again and put my mind at ease. I didn’t know but I opened the door and stormed out of the house with no idea where he stayed, let alone where he could be. New note: I really needed to ask more questions.
I walked for a bit, wandering along the covered walkways. The storm seemed to be clearing somewhat and it wasn’t as dark as it had been earlier. Muted lights still illuminated the walkways as a safety precaution. I entered the elevators, considered a moment, then ordered it to take me to the community courtyard gardens. From there, I could poke about and maybe head across to the clinic and pick Aline’s brain.
Once in the courtyard, I circled around, glancing here and there hoping to spot Adam. I didn’t really expect to find him, he was probably doing Strategist Stuff, but it was better than sitting around doing nothing. There weren’t many people around. Most were probably at work or doing whatever people here did in the afternoons. And like a guided missile, I ended back at that accursed bench, way off in the corner, secluded from the rest of the garden. Maybe I should just go to Aline; she’d know where Adam was. With a huff, I sat and glowered out over the wall, and contemplated. I saw nothing but the wintry gray and white, and utter bleakness.
A tiny rustling noise from behind had me flying off the bench, my hand diving into my pocket to retrieve the krima. I swung around, lowering my height with one knee bent, the other leg extended behind me, the krima engaged and ready. The hand that swung out and grasped my wrist was nothing but a blur. It held me firm, and I froze. Not from fear, but from complete shock. The owner of the hand was none other than Lorcan Wellesley.
Lorcan was dressed in a plain gray suit that shimmered and reflected light oddly; his hair was carefully styled in a dull, straight brown that covered part of his forehead. He’d changed the color of his eyebrows and eyes to match, and sported a short brown beard. But he was still Lorcan. He gave me an expression of extreme surprise mixed with the half-grin of someone who was very impressed.
He continued to grip my hand firmly in his; the krima’s amber light sparked Lorcan’s hair and eyes with tiny flares of bright color. Slowly, he lowered our joined hands and I managed to release the air I held in my lungs with a shaky gasp.
“Lorcan.” I blinked. Surely I was seeing things. “What…?”
“Josie, my dear.” He smiled broadly. “I am impressed. Look at you—you’re a right fighting she-wolf. Ha!”
“Lorcan, how, what…?”
He chuckled. “Imagine that. She’s speechless. That’s a first.”
“Fucking hell, Lorcan. What the—”
“Listen, love, I can’t stay long and I can’t talk long. Those bloody surveillance orbs will be ’round shortly.” He cast a dark look around him. “Come this way.”
Still holding my wrist, Lorcan tugged me to the far end of the garden, close to where I’d found the yellow ball. The ground naturally inclined downward and hid us partially from view.
“Listen to me.” He gripped my shoulder and brought his face close to mine. He unnerved me, and I flinched. “Shh-shh,” he said, and offered a smile. “Josie, you’re in serious danger. And so is Lancaster.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” In an instant, I wanted to hit him, gouge his heart out. The night in the bamboo forest flooded back to me, the hurt Lorcan had inflicted. I wanted to hurt him back.
“Listen. Uron Koh is a ghost. It’s not Michael Ho. I thought maybe it was but…no. And he’s here. Koh, that is.”
“What? Here? In the Citadel?” So it was Adam.
He nodded. “You need to get out. I think he’s trying to destroy this entire place and overthrow the government. The man’s mad. He’s already got a huge army backing him up from all sides. Two border cities have been invaded, and a third, to the western side, is the next target. Do you hear me, Josie? Get out!” He stared at me as if wondering why I hadn’t started running like mad to safety. “I don’t know what he looks like, but I can assure you, he is here.”
“Adam? It’s him, isn’t it?” My chest constricted. I struggled out of his grasp, pushing him off so I could breathe.
“Who?” He seemed distracted, glancing now and again behind him. “Look, I followed his trail from Luxembourg. The man’s got an endless supply of resources and funds. He’s got massive armed forces on his side—most of them he’s hired. I don’t know who he is, but he’s only calling himself Uron Koh. It’s like a…battle cry, almost. But he’s here—inside. There was a power cut earlier—” I gasped and nodded. “That was all for distraction since the eastern cities are already under attack. He’s taken out the media first, so news of it is delayed. He’s scrambled all Internet services and jamming mobile signals. He’s taking everyone by surprise. The man’s smart, he’s a genius. He knows all about the security here, and he’s got people in here already. He slipped in through the front doors like an honored guest! Josie, trust no one. I followed a group last night, coming down the eastern slopes of the mountains. They came in from the borders of Italy and made their way up. Koh was with what he calls his Black Guards—his New Federation Council members are what they really are. And I’m absolutely positive he was among them. But instead of entering through the sabotaged eastern entrance, they circled back and walked right through the front door.”
I shook my head to clear it. It was too much; I couldn’t fathom any of it. “Stop, stop!” I backed away. “Well, what does he look like? Who are his insiders? Adam. It’s got to be Adam. We have to tell John. Now.”
“The eastern entrances are ten kilometers away. It took me the whole morning to track you down. Koh had a much bigger head start on me, and he’s got help.”
For the first time, I looked closely at Lorcan. “How did you get in? The same way? Or through the eastern gates?” A nugget of fear crept up my spine. Trust no one, he’d said. Good advice. Just how had he got in?
“Josie.” Lorcan grinned, giving me that endearing charm that could melt a nun’s heart. “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than anyone else. Give me some credit for being original.”
Focus, I ordered myself and with a fleeting glance at my krima, I disengaged it, turned and started up the incline. “I’m going to get John. You’re coming with me,” I said without looking back.
“I’m not coming with you.” The finality in his voice made me stop and turn. “You go do what you have to, but mark my words. You and your boyfriend better make tracks, and make them soon.”
I wasn’t sure if I imagined it, but I was almost certain he said “boyfriend” with a sneer. “Why are you helping?”
“Why, indeed.” Lorcan grunted a short laugh. “You’ve put some weight on, I see. And you’re looking well.” He sounded wistful; his eyes lingered on my face. “Take care, now.” He winked.
I hesitated to watch him then, waved slowly and deliberately.
Lorcan stiffened for a moment, nodding with understanding. Then, turned and vanished amid the shrubs and brambles that lined the walls.
Chapter 41
John slammed both fists on a desk. And yelled.
From the corner of his vision, he saw both Josie and Simon flinch—she from surprise, he, because it was his desk that was being brutalized. John didn’t care. He wanted to pulverize it.
&nb
sp; “How is it that that man always finds a way to pop up in the bloodiest of places and not leave a single trace behind? Can anyone tell me?” John’s mood was violent. “And how in hell did he find you?” He directed an accusatory glare at Josie.
“How the fuck do I know?” Anger and insult drenched her words, stabbing John to the core. “You’re the one who’s got surveillance cameras all over the fucking place. You tell me. Did it ever occur to you that he’s very good at what he does? And maybe he thought that if he came to me directly, I’d actually listen to him instead of try to bite his head off or have his ass fucking arrested?”
John glowered at her for a long moment, but his earlier ire had diminished. She matched it with one of her own. Simon muttered something that sounded a lot like “awkward,” and it broke the staring match.
John redirected his attention to Simon. “Did you find him? Adam?”
Simon nodded. “He’s been told to wait in your conservatory. I’m getting all the surveillance footage from last night, but if Koh is as smart as he comes across to be, we won’t find him unless he wants to be found. And I suggest you take Wellesley’s advice—or not,” he added hastily, seeing the black look John sent him. Simon turned to go, then called over his shoulder. “Try not to kill each other while Daddy’s away, children.”
Left alone, John avoided looking at Josie for a moment. He stood, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed, grinding his teeth until it hurt. He stole a glance at Josie. Her arms were crossed over her chest, an insolent set to her mouth and a scowl on her face that could shrivel the devil himself. Her green eyes blazed with fury.
John rolled an acidic taste in his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he muttered in almost a whisper, his anger gone. Josie was the last person he wanted to fight with. To hurt. His shoulders slumped a fraction, and he took a breath.