she and I will get along really well.”
I laugh, letting go and sitting back, suddenly exhausted. “You’re certainly both crazy enough.”
I hear her stand. “Good luck, Annie.”
Did I mess this up? Could I have changed her mind? Fia could have. Fia would have known exactly what to do, what to say, heck, what to
think
. I messed everything up. But a small part of me is hopeful that maybe I’m sending a friend Fia’s way.
Please, please let me not have sent Mae into even more danger by putting her onto Fia’s path.
“Good luck, Mae.”
You’re going to need it
.
She laughs brightly. “I make my luck. I pull it out of the brains of everyone I meet.”
A few minutes later someone else sits across from me. “How did it go?” Cole asks.
“I was brilliant. Anyone else you want me to drive straight into Keane’s employ?”
“What do you mean?”
“I—” A familiar voice asking for a table for one registers and I freeze. It’s a man. How do I know his voice? “Crap,” I hiss, ducking and crawling on the floor until I’m under the table.
“What are you doing?” Cole asks.
“Shut up!” I hiss. “There’s a man here. He’s a recruiter for the school. If he sees me, I’m dead.”
Actually
dead, as opposed to fictionally dead.
“What does he look like?”
I punch Cole’s thigh so hard my hand stings.
“Sorry! Sorry. There’s a guy in a suit by himself. He’s watching Mae. I think it’s him. We’ll wait it out.”
I sit with my back against the wall, knees bumping his, head craned at a horrible angle beneath the table. Cole orders food, acting casual.
“This is why I wanted you gone,” he says, voice so low I can barely hear it over the hum of conversations and the clinking of silverware.
“Because I screw everything up?”
“Because sending you on a collision course with Keane is the worst possible thing we can do.”
My aching neck agrees with him. I have to figure out a way to be better. This was not enough.
I was not enough.
FIA
Thirty-six Hours Before
I PLAY IT OVER AND OVER AGAIN IN MY HEAD, TRYING to unstick whatever got stuck and made me do something so stupid.
She walked by. I knew I needed to stop her.
I
knew
I needed to stop her. There was no doubt. I have so much doubt these days, but there was no doubt then.
I tap tap tap tap on my stomach, the polished oval table I’m lying on hard beneath the back of my head and the base of my spine. The chandelier overhead, understated and elegantly modern, burns funny patterns of light on my eyes. The sun has long since gone down, but no one has bothered coming in, telling me I can go or I can stay or anything.
I saved his life. Saved it so I can destroy it? Wouldn’t everything be better if he were dead now? And I wouldn’t even have had to be the one to do it.
Someone opens the door and walks into the empty conference room James left me in with a caution not to go anywhere. I don’t look over. I’m too busy tap tap tap tapping, trying to puzzle out the
why
of all this.
“Sedatives,” Pixie says, matter-of-factly. “Apparently she’s been taking massive doses of sedatives for the last few weeks to get by all the Feeler check-ins. No wonder her thoughts were so sleepy.”
She walked by. She needed to be stopped. Why? Why did she need to be stopped? “It was Mr. Keane, right? She was there to kill him. Not James or someone else.” Maybe she was going to kill James. It would be right for me to stop that. I would need to stop that, because I need James.
Pixie sits on the table next to me. “Yup. Kill order for El Presidente. No one else, as far as I could tell. They had me pull what I could from her thoughts, but she was pretty good.”
Pixie isn’t telling me everything. She got more than that. I need to know what else she got. Don’t think about it.
I saved him. The man who destroyed me. The man who would have hurt Annie, done anything, to control me. Saving him was the
right
thing to do.
I laugh so
I laugh, letting go and sitting back, suddenly exhausted. “You’re certainly both crazy enough.”
I hear her stand. “Good luck, Annie.”
Did I mess this up? Could I have changed her mind? Fia could have. Fia would have known exactly what to do, what to say, heck, what to
think
. I messed everything up. But a small part of me is hopeful that maybe I’m sending a friend Fia’s way.
Please, please let me not have sent Mae into even more danger by putting her onto Fia’s path.
“Good luck, Mae.”
You’re going to need it
.
She laughs brightly. “I make my luck. I pull it out of the brains of everyone I meet.”
A few minutes later someone else sits across from me. “How did it go?” Cole asks.
“I was brilliant. Anyone else you want me to drive straight into Keane’s employ?”
“What do you mean?”
“I—” A familiar voice asking for a table for one registers and I freeze. It’s a man. How do I know his voice? “Crap,” I hiss, ducking and crawling on the floor until I’m under the table.
“What are you doing?” Cole asks.
“Shut up!” I hiss. “There’s a man here. He’s a recruiter for the school. If he sees me, I’m dead.”
Actually
dead, as opposed to fictionally dead.
“What does he look like?”
I punch Cole’s thigh so hard my hand stings.
“Sorry! Sorry. There’s a guy in a suit by himself. He’s watching Mae. I think it’s him. We’ll wait it out.”
I sit with my back against the wall, knees bumping his, head craned at a horrible angle beneath the table. Cole orders food, acting casual.
“This is why I wanted you gone,” he says, voice so low I can barely hear it over the hum of conversations and the clinking of silverware.
“Because I screw everything up?”
“Because sending you on a collision course with Keane is the worst possible thing we can do.”
My aching neck agrees with him. I have to figure out a way to be better. This was not enough.
I was not enough.
FIA
Thirty-six Hours Before
I PLAY IT OVER AND OVER AGAIN IN MY HEAD, TRYING to unstick whatever got stuck and made me do something so stupid.
She walked by. I knew I needed to stop her.
I
knew
I needed to stop her. There was no doubt. I have so much doubt these days, but there was no doubt then.
I tap tap tap tap on my stomach, the polished oval table I’m lying on hard beneath the back of my head and the base of my spine. The chandelier overhead, understated and elegantly modern, burns funny patterns of light on my eyes. The sun has long since gone down, but no one has bothered coming in, telling me I can go or I can stay or anything.
I saved his life. Saved it so I can destroy it? Wouldn’t everything be better if he were dead now? And I wouldn’t even have had to be the one to do it.
Someone opens the door and walks into the empty conference room James left me in with a caution not to go anywhere. I don’t look over. I’m too busy tap tap tap tapping, trying to puzzle out the
why
of all this.
“Sedatives,” Pixie says, matter-of-factly. “Apparently she’s been taking massive doses of sedatives for the last few weeks to get by all the Feeler check-ins. No wonder her thoughts were so sleepy.”
She walked by. She needed to be stopped. Why? Why did she need to be stopped? “It was Mr. Keane, right? She was there to kill him. Not James or someone else.” Maybe she was going to kill James. It would be right for me to stop that. I would need to stop that, because I need James.
Pixie sits on the table next to me. “Yup. Kill order for El Presidente. No one else, as far as I could tell. They had me pull what I could from her thoughts, but she was pretty good.”
Pixie isn’t telling me everything. She got more than that. I need to know what else she got. Don’t think about it.
I saved him. The man who destroyed me. The man who would have hurt Annie, done anything, to control me. Saving him was the
right
thing to do.
I laugh so
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