Liquid Lies

by Hanna Martine

  “He said, ‘I don’t care about your fucking war. I’m concerned about Gwen and want her safe, and if you bust in now with guns drawn, she won’t be.’ I remember exactly what he said because of the way he said it, like he had everything to lose. I demanded to know who he was and he told me his name. Then he said he’d contact me again. That was the first time we talked, yesterday morning.”

  Her nose tingled. “The first time?”

  “Yeah. I waited the whole day to hear from him again. Almost went out of my mind with fear for you. I told myself if I didn’t hear back from him in twenty-four hours, I’d go to the Board. Then last night he called back. He sounded out of breath, shaken. Told me to get up to Tahoe to meet him. Alone.”

  She stretched across the table and covered Griffin’s hands with her own.

  “I could’ve set a detail on him, could’ve brought the entire security force with me.” He still didn’t meet her eyes.

  “But you didn’t.”

  He shook his head. “It was the fact that he’d called me and not your father. It was the desperation in his voice. And”—he finally lifted his eyes to hers, and they were haunted—“that I already knew who he was.”

  Huh?

  “I remembered his name. When you told the Board about the night you first saw the Tedrans, you said the Primary who met with them was named Reed. When he said that was his name, I knew he wasn’t lying because I remembered he’d been talking to you before the Tedrans ever came in. I remembered he was the guy who’d attacked Yoshi.”

  She didn’t like the wary look on Griffin’s face. Her hands turned clammy but she didn’t want to let his go.

  “So I drove up to Tahoe and met him. Gwen, he told me everything.”

  A huge sigh of relief left her body. She knew Reed would have been quick and direct; it wasn’t in his nature to bullshit or skate around the issues. That meant Griffin knew all about the Tedrans and the Plant and Mendacia.

  But when Griffin’s expression turned rock hard, dread dropped like a stone into her gut. “Wait.” Her voice went hollow. “Everything?”

  Griffin withdrew his hands.

  A waitress plopped sloshing cups of coffee between them. Gwen regarded them with surprise even though she and Griffin had ordered them the second they’d walked in the diner.

  “Gwen, you slept with him? The Primary who kidnapped you? The man working for the Tedrans?” The disgust in his voice hardened as ice on her skin. “Please tell me you did it so he’d help you escape. Please tell me you used him.”

  Stars, she wanted to. “I can’t.”

  He punched hard into the booth cushion, air whooshing out of it. “Do you understand how this sounds? How this makes me feel?”

  “Of course I do.” Only the truth would help them now. Sort of like breaking a bone again to set it right. “It’s more than the Allure. Maybe it started out as Allure, but sometime in the past week it shifted.”

  His hands started to shake, and he tried to hide them under the table. “I don’t know if I want to hear this.”

  “I think you have to.” He cringed. “It’ll help you make some sense of this mess. I knew someday I’d have to tell you. It won’t be easy to hear. Hell, I can’t even believe it happened.”

  So she told Griffin about Reed. The whole story. She started with the scene in the alley and described their conversation in Manny’s. Everything she hadn’t told the Board. Everything she’d kept to herself.

  She went through all their interactions at the lake house, everything but the erotic details. Griffin had to know that her and Reed’s relationship wasn’t just circumstantial, that you couldn’t have thrown a different kidnapper at her and gotten the same outcome. That it had started out as the Allure and ended up someplace else entirely.

  Through it all, Griffin stared at his smeared reflection in the metal napkin dispenser.

  When she finished, ending with Xavier’s admission that he hadn’t killed Reed, she opened her arms. “There. Now you know everything I do.”

  He pulled out a napkin and started to pick it to pieces. “Not true. I know something you don’t.”

  Her heartbeat stuttered. Something about the Plant or her father or the Board. Something that would render the slaves’ rescue impossible. Something that would prevent her from going after Reed…

  “What is it?”

  Griffin laughed without any bit of humor. “You know, at first I thought I was imagining it, that I was reading too much into it. I thought you were dead. I was still grieving and my thoughts weren’t exactly straight. Then all of a sudden here was the very guy who’d taken you, talking to me about someone who I considered to be a ghost. He couldn’t possibly be for real, I thought. He couldn’t possibly know you as well as it seemed.”

  The napkin disintegrated in his fingers. He cupped his jaw in the crook of his hand. He still wouldn’t look at her.

  “I tried to talk myself out of believing it, but it was pretty damn persistent. I saw it in his eyes. It came through in the tension in his voice, how he told me your story.” Griffin ducked his chin. “Reed doesn’t give a flying fuck about Ofarians or Tedrans. It’s all for you.”

  She could only sit there as Griffin’s word tsunami bore down on her. At last he met her eyes.

  “He’s in love with you, Gwen.”

  This, from the man the Board wanted her to marry.

  “I…I don’t think so. We’ve known each other a week.”

  “Took me less time than that to fall in love with you. The first hint from the Board about our match, and bam, it just hit me. So I know what it looks like, to love you. I saw it in him.”

  She pressed her forehead to the Formica table, which smelled of eggs and coffee.

  “Do you love him?”

  Her fingers found Reed’s watch, still hiding in her sweater pocket. She pictured him lying back on that low bed in the attic cell, one big arm draped behind his head, tattooed mysteries wrapping themselves around his hard chest. She heard his voice in her head, telling her about his drive to learn and his life’s regrets, about what was written on his body. She saw that slash of a dimple, meant only for her.

  “I don’t know,” she said to the table. “Maybe.”

  But as she raised her head and met Griffin’s expectant gaze, they both knew she was lying.

  The coffee between them was getting cold but she clenched the mug, dying for it to give her warmth and strength. As she shook her head, greasy strands of hair brushed her face.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry to do this to you.”

  Griffin looked like a deflated balloon. Boneless, resigned, and brokenhearted. He slid out of the booth.

  She panicked. “Where are you going?”

  A thumb jutted toward the back. “The bathroom. Give me a minute.”

  She watched the bathroom door with a twisted stomach. When he shuffled back, his hairline was damp. For a moment he stood motionless at the end of the table, and she worried he was deciding whether or not to sit back down. She needed him. What they had to do was much, much bigger than their personal relationship, even if she had made some wrong choices.

  “I won’t pretend to understand what’s happened between you two,” he said, finally flopping back onto the cushioned bench.

  A sick feeling rolled through her. “Is that why you took Reed?”

  His pause lasted forever. “No.” Then his head twisted and he sneered at his reflection in the window. “Maybe partly. I don’t know. When I walked away after first meeting him, I was so confused. I was angry at the Board, at our ancestors. Angry at you and Reed…”

  “So you took him because of that?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That first meeting, he and I hashed out a plan to go in and get you without involving the Board. He’s good. Really good. Ex-military, obviously. I was supposed to go back to San Francisco, make up some excuse for my absence, then rendezvous with him again. But once I was away, I knew having him around us wouldn’t
work at all. He’s the Primary who kidnapped you, for chrissakes. No one would ever believe he’d switch sides. No Ofarian would allow him in. So I had to make like he gave me the tip but that I didn’t trust him. So right before we were supposed to go in for you, I had him ambushed.” He gave a short laugh. “Can’t say it didn’t give me little bit of satisfaction.”

  Reed had to be seething. Enraged at Griffin’s duplicity and furious at Gwen for ever dragging him into this. She couldn’t be more grateful for Reed’s trust and his risk, and look how she’d repaid him. One good thing about it, though? At least now he was out of bounds for Tracker.

  “Did he say how he got away?”

  Griffin grinned awkwardly. “Said it wasn’t too difficult. Bribed the guy who was supposed to have pulled the trigger.”

  Of course. Those guards were all Primary misfits. Frank the Fingerless was probably hiding from something, like Reed.

  “When we get the slaves out,” she said quietly, “I’m taking Reed with me.”

  He just stared. “Are you forgetting something?”

  “What?”

  “Reed knows. About us, Gwen. He’s a Primary.”

  She straightened. “You wouldn’t. Not after how he helped me.”

  “I wouldn’t?” But even he didn’t look so sure.

  She wanted to lie down right there on the cracked vinyl, close her eyes, and wake up a week ago. If she’d known then that all this would happen, would she have let Reed pull her into his arms on the sidewalk?

  Yes. Yes, she would have.

  “Tell me you didn’t know anything about the slaves,” she said.

  “God, Gwen, no. Not a thing. I mean, I knew where the Plant was for security purposes, but as far as production went, I knew as much as you.”

  “Do you think my dad does? Know everything, I mean.”

  He shifted on his seat, his gaze dropping.

  “You do, don’t you. Shit, Griffin. He can’t.”

  “‘Can’t,’ Gwen? Come on. Of course he can. And he does. You just don’t want to believe it. Don’t be stupid.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, her mind ping-ponging, her senses in hyperdrive. The smell of burgers on the griddle assaulted her nostrils. The stickiness of the tabletop permeated her skin. The lights glared harshly and the inane chatter of the late-night crowd poked a headache into her skull.

  “I’m going to end this,” she said, “and I need your help.”

  For the first time in her whole life, she saw fear darken Griffin’s eyes. “That’s treason.”

  She unzipped her sweater a few inches, reached inside her bra, and whipped out the photos she’d stashed there. She tossed them in front of Griffin. “And that’s slavery.”

  He looked at them. Recoiled. “Jesus.”

  “Take them.”

  To him they were poisonous, and his hands hovered inches above the images. “What do you want me to do with them?”

  She told him her plan.

  The horrible consequences of that plan flashed in Vegas lights across his face. If they failed, they’d face a punishment worthy of treason. A nelicoda overdose at the very least. Banishment from Ofarian society. Possibly death. Griffin’s whole life had been service. He’d trained incredibly hard to rise as high as he had. And she was, for all intents and purposes, an Ofarian princess.

  She hoped against hope that he’d see things her way.

  “I’m sorry, Gwen.” He pushed the photos back to her. “I can’t.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  “There’s been a mistake.”

  One Ofarian soldier in black fatigues stood in the shadowed corridor next to the double doors, ignoring him. Reed tapped his wrist restraints against the bars, aggravating the throbbing at the back of his skull. That’d been a good hit. Solid, on the mark. The men at Griffin’s rendezvous had taken full advantage of the element of surprise. He’d suspected Griffin might double-cross him, but at least not until after they’d rescued Gwen. This had to be some kind of colossal mistake. Griffin hadn’t been at the rendezvous. Somewhere wires had gotten crossed.

  Reed had to get out of here. Had to get to Gwen.

  He tapped the bars again. The lone soldier dismissed Reed with a quick side glance, then shuffled a half step away.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you. Get Griffin.”

  “Griffin who?” the soldier smirked.

  Reed growled in frustration. “Jesus. I don’t know his damn last name.”

  The soldier grinned. His top two teeth slanted slightly inward. “Orders came straight from the captain. No mistake at all.”

  Motherfucker. The bastard took him on purpose. He’d believed everything Reed had to say about Gwen then locked him up for it. Cocky, jealous asshole. What was Reed thinking, telling Griffin everything? What was Reed thinking, believing Gwen when she said Griffin was the key to getting her out and the start to sorting out this whole mess?

  “Face it, Primary,” came Xavier’s monotone from behind him. “She used you.”

  Reed turned his back to the bars, pulsating scalp grinding into the iron, to face Xavier, who was sprawled against the far wall. The sickly green overhead light bathed his pale hair and skin, making him look demon-like.

  When Reed had first come to, he’d had no idea where he was. One look at Xavier’s tormented expression and Reed figured out he was in the Plant.

  “She screwed you,” Xavier said. “Literally and figuratively.”

  She didn’t. She didn’t. She didn’t.

  “You think she’s really going to come back for you? For us?” Xavier’s eyes went frighteningly blank. A shudder coursed through him. “She’s a liar. This whole time, she lied to both of us.”

  Reed shifted his gaze to Adine and Nora, who huddled in opposite corners. Nora was shooting eye daggers at Xavier. Adine looked, well, hurt. And lost. Like she’d been betrayed by her best friend.

  “Don’t feel stupid.” Xavier’s clipped tone stabbed at Reed, hard and sure. “She screwed us, too.”

  “What did she promise you?” Reed asked.

  Xavier’s eyes swept across the green-gray walls, but he didn’t answer.

  “To end this,” Nora sneered. Her little backbone was made of steel. She sat perfectly upright, cross-legged, hands on her knees. “She lied. She’s made of lies, from blood to bone.”

  Reed pulled away from the bars. “How is this any worse than what you did to her?”

  “Nora, she tried,” Adine said shortly. “She really did. You didn’t see her down there with Genesai and the ship. She honestly wanted to help him, to help us.”

  Reed had never seen Adine snap at Nora like that. As the two women glared at each other, he said to Adine, “I noticed you don’t call Nora Mom.”

  Adine shifted, eyes on the floor. “No. Not for a long time.”

  Nora sniffed and fixated her stare on Xavier, as though this was all his fault. Maybe it was. If he’d actually pulled the trigger instead of handing the gun to Frank, none of this would’ve happened. Reed wanted to tell Xavier that he’d done the right thing, but had he? If Xavier had followed Nora’s orders, the slaves might be out by now…but Gwen and her people would still be in danger.

  Was trading the safety of one race for another the only way?

  Gwen hadn’t believed that. Reed wouldn’t either.

  He crouched in front of Xavier. “We can still try to get out of this.”

  “We have nothing.” The desolation in his face echoed that statement.

  “Not true. You have me.”

  Xavier’s head came away from the cinder block wall.

  Reed rattled his cuffs, lowered his voice. “This little green light doesn’t do shit for me. It’s an opportunity. When they move us…”

  Xavier laughed though it was devoid of anything but hopelessness. “You really are nothing but muscle. You’re not getting out of here, away from them. You know what they do to Primaries who find out about them?”

  Reed glanced at Nora, who turned her superior ga
ze toward the bars.

  “You don’t, do you?” Xavier sat up, his bitter face inches from Reed’s. “They kill them. Anyone who’s ever gotten a whiff of the Ofarian world dies. Aside from protecting Gwen, that’s Griffin’s job.”

  Reed’s mind circled back to the scene in the alley. If he hadn’t shown up, the Japanese guy would’ve died. That’s why she hadn’t wanted to call the cops; she was biding her time to wait for Griffin to arrive.

  But Gwen wouldn’t’ve told Reed all that she had, knowing that would be his fate. No way. She hadn’t wanted to tell him; she’d held out until she had no other options. He’d witnessed her desperation. By nature, she wasn’t deceitful. She’d convinced him she wasn’t using him. He had looked into those beautiful, beautiful eyes and believed her.

  He swept to his feet and surged toward the bars.

  “Hey,” Reed called out again to the soldier in the corridor. “Does Gwen know I’m here?” The soldier raised an eyebrow. “Gwen Carroway. Contact her directly. Ask her if I’m supposed to be here.”

  With a roll of his eyes, the soldier peeled away from the doors and went to a corner to mumble into his shoulder radio. Reed couldn’t hear a word of the exchange. Xavier smirked on the floor. The whole thing took forever. If Reed had had hair, he would have been gray by now.

  The soldier sauntered back, stood right in front of the bars. “Well?” Reed demanded.

  “Ms. Carroway says you’re exactly where you belong.”

  Reed felt as if a giant, invisible football player had tackled him from behind. His body hit the concrete floor with a terrible force his numbed nerves didn’t feel. As his eyelids dropped, his last thought was of his mom and dad and Page, and how devastated they would be when he didn’t come home for Thanksgiving.

  Gwen swept through Company HQ. Coworkers, kinsmen, and friends swarmed her, enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth. Despite her sick heart and the spiked ball of dread slowly dragging its way through her veins, she was genuinely glad to see them. She spoke to each of them, sharing tears and hugs. But when she pulled back, looked into their happy faces, and then glimpsed their computer screens or the stacks of paper on their desks, all she could think was: You don’t know what you’ve been perpetuating.