Adamant (21 page)

“Skyla! Stop.” Jeth went over to her. Alber remained by Nell, pale and staring, arms at his sides. “People are watching…”

I turned to where he was pointing. My heart dropped. I should have guessed we’d draw an audience. People had come out of the nearby houses—old and young, teenagers, families—and all wore varied expressions of shock and terror, like a horror movie had played out right in front of them. I supposed it had. None of them knew about the Passage, after all, and most people preferred not to acknowledge the monsters that lived a heartbeat away.

“Where are
you
going?” Jeth demanded. He was talking to Kay, who’d moved back into the alley entrance.

“I have to check on my team, make sure there aren’t any more dreyverns in the Passage.” He appeared remarkably unruffled for someone who’d just been in a fight, and his dark eyes seemed to shine with contained excitement.

“Oh, shit. He knows.” Alber swallowed, looking sick. “Nell…”

“Is she…?” My voice choked. She lay very still, blood soaking her shoulder.

“She’s breathing.”

I sighed, relief seeping through my aching limbs. My arm throbbed, blood dripping from the wound, but thankfully it was only a shallow cut.

“Come on. We need to get her out of here,” said Jeth, coming back over with Skyla. “Shit. We can’t use the Passages now. We don’t have any of the bloodrock solution, either, we gave the last of it to that Enzar family…” He looked helplessly at Nell. Like it had just hit him how much we depended on her guidance.

“You need to move.” Kay was back. “There’s a full guard patrol back there, and there’s not much I can do to stop them arresting all of you.”

“Then get on with it,” I said, wearily. “You win.” Nell’s injury had shaken the fight out of me.

“I’m not going to do that,” he said, and for a second, I thought I’d misheard. “Your friend needs medical attention.”

“Yes, but our faces will be plastered over half London by now,” I snapped. “Thanks to the Alliance. Besides, we have friends who can help.”

“That’s foolish,” he said. “She’ll die before you get to wherever you’re planning to take her.”

“I’ll call an ambulance, then. Oh, wait, you dickheads
stole my phone.
”

“I’ll call,” Jeth said quickly, digging in his pocket.

“You can’t be serious.” Skyla shot Kay a look of contempt. “He works for the Alliance. You’re not going to let him order you around?”

“Nell’s in trouble,” said Jeth, dialling. “Hello? We need an ambulance…”

“Where are you going?” Alber said to Kay, who’d half retreated into the alley.

I stood up and followed him. “Wait! You’re running off?”

“I’m ordering my patrol to clear up this mess,” he said, indicating the bodies of the fallen dreyverns and the massive lump that was the chalder vox. Shadows still streamed where he’d stabbed it, and blood spattered the ground. “I think there might be complaints if we leave them here, though they do add a certain character.”

“It’s not funny,” I snapped. Seriously, he chose
now
to demonstrate a sense of humour? Then again, he was an Alliance guard and an Academy graduate to boot. From what I’d heard about Academy students, they got unimaginably bored unless there was a threat of imminent death.

The image of the dreyvern’s blood spraying out replayed before I could stop it. I shook my head, determined not to dwell on the fight. Nell needed us.

“And then you’re taking me back there. Right?”

He looked at me, hesitating for a moment. “You know you shouldn’t have run, Ada. If you come without a fuss, we might be able to get you a trial. Ms Weston thinks you could be valuable to the Alliance.”

“You’re joking,” I said. “What makes you think I’d ever work for you?”

“You might change your mind.” He pulled his communicator from his pocket, keeping one eye on me like he expected me to grab for it again.

“Is this it? You’re reporting us?”

He glanced down at the communicator, then back at me. “You know I don’t have a choice.” His gaze moved to Nell, just for a second, like he hadn’t been able to help it. Then he flicked the touch screen. Looked like he was typing something. Probably an order.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I said, desperately. “Do we look like career criminals? I told you, I’m protecting my family. You arrest us, that’s it. We lose everything. Nell probably dies. We get deported back to a war zone. Everyone loses, except you, and I hope you’re bloody happy about it.”

“You won’t be deported. You’re under the Alliance’s protection, like I told you. At worst, you’ll have to register as offworld immigrants. If you tell me why you stole from the Alliance, I can clear your name, too.”

“Yeah. A likely story.”

“It’s true. I’m not trying to trick you, Ada. I don’t know what you’ve heard about the Alliance, but we’re not heartless monsters. It’s our prerogative to help, offworld or otherwise.”

There was the tiniest hint of bitterness in the way he said
heartless monsters
that puzzled me. Made me pause.

“The bloodrock,” he said. “All we want to know is what you were planning to do with it. I just heard your brother say something about… a bloodrock solution? Something you need. To escape.”

I could see him piecing it together. He’d heard Jeth. But if he knew what bloodrock could do already, why ask? And the guards hadn’t materialised yet. What had he typed into the communicator?

I shook my head. “It’s just a disguise. That’s all we use it for.”

“You’re wearing a disguise?” He frowned.

“Uh. No. It’s for…”

“Enzar. There are more of you.”

No. I took a step back, too stunned, too shaken to hide what I was thinking.

“Ada, I’m not going to arrest anyone. If there’s anyone else in the same situation as you, they’re under the Alliance’s protection by default.”

I gave a humourless laugh. “Nice try.”

“It’s true. Human rights come before the noninterference law. First principle of the Alliance—you must know it.”

I
did
know it. The Alliance’s mandate. And none of the refugees had broken any laws except running from a world where they’d otherwise have died or been forced to fight in a war.

Exactly what the Alliance worked to prevent from happening.

“Yeah,” I said, finally. “I know the laws.”

“So you make disguises? For people from Enzar?”

Damn him for being so bloody perceptive. “Nell does. The Alliance forbids any contact with that world. There’s no other way to do it.”

“So that’s what you stole the bloodrock for?”

I crossed my arms defensively. “Why’s it so hard for you to believe?”

“People have been killed over it,” he said.

I shook my head again. “That’s… that has nothing to do with us. We only steal the bloodrock because we need it, the refugees need it. Not like there’s a legal shelter anywhere around here.”

“No.” He glanced down at his communicator, looking preoccupied. “There aren’t any in London at all.”

“I know that,” I said. “What’s it to you anyway?”

“Because I know there’s one run by New York’s Alliance branch. They’ve a whole network set up—it wouldn’t be too far out there to link it to Enzar.”

“What?” I couldn’t be hearing this right.

“Honestly, most of the Alliance employees at Central don’t know how bad the situation in the Empire is—even I only know the basics. People are really escaping? Like you?”

I didn’t want to talk about that. He seemed to notice, and said, “Okay. I know how you feel about the Alliance. But I can at least put you in touch with someone who works at US Central. Once this mess is cleared up.”

No freaking way. “Yeah, right. I’m not going back to Central.”

“I’m not tricking you. I can pull strings in the Alliance. Help the others from your homeworld.”

He might as well have sucker punched me in the chest. “That isn’t something to joke about.”

“You think–” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what more I can do. I’ll talk to the council. You don’t have to believe I will, but I’m not your enemy, Ada. And I don’t lie.”

I gaped. Who the hell
was
Kay Walker? I didn’t dare believe him. The very idea that the refugees could get out legally—could have a genuine chance to build new lives—it was the one thing we could never have. Nell had drilled it into me so often it was inconceivable to assume otherwise. But she was lying on the ground, close to death, the world had upended itself, and never mind the freaking Balance. Reality itself felt like it was out of sync.

I couldn’t deal with it. And I couldn’t even look at the man who’d torn my life apart and then promised me something I’d never, not for a second, conceived of as possible.

A way to keep everyone safe.

If he was lying, I’d tear him to pieces, and yet I knew it would never, ever be enough. If he had any idea what those words meant…

Maybe I should just stop assuming anything. Accept what happened as part of a wacky, stress-induced hallucination. There was no other way it made sense.

Kay was speaking into his communicator. I hadn’t even heard, like the shock had muted all sound. But now he put the device away. “I have to take care of this,” he said, his tone flat. Emotionless again. “We can’t leave corpses in the middle of the street. I doubt the local council will be happy about it.”

“Yeah.” I drew in a shuddering breath. “But if your team comes in, they’ll arrest me—arrest all of us. Right?”

“I delayed them,” he said. “Told them to clean out the dead dreyverns in the Passages. But I can only keep them back for so long. Go in the ambulance. I’ll come and find you later.”

“You know where we’ll—right, the hospital.”

“I’ll find you,” he said. “You go back to your friends, okay?”

This was surreal. He was actually letting us go. What the hell had got into Kay Walker? I didn’t know, and God, I was so scared for Nell, but for a moment, at least, we had a plan.

The ambulance didn’t take long, and Kay, who’d remained at the alley entrance, moved back into the shadows and was gone in an instant.

KAY

What had I got myself into?

Once my team had cleared out the monsters’ corpses, I then had to come up with an explanation for Ms Weston as to how Ada had got away. Again.

I’d lost it. I’d really lost it. Helping a former prisoner? And what the hell had I been thinking offering to call Simon? Like anyone else needed to be dragged into this mess. But this was different. Maybe it was proof of my naïve idiot stupidity, but what bugged me most about the way things had gone for me at Central was the sense that it was damned impossible to do anything remotely
useful,
even to solve the murders that were happening right there in the office. Let alone the crap-ton of problems out there in the Multiverse that Ambassadors like my mother had given their lives trying to solve. It might be idealistic to think I might be able to make the slightest bit of a difference, but I could at least use the blasted Walker name for something decent. For Enzar.

For Ada. I’d seen it in her eyes. She’d not lied. Her story matched the facts. And yet, whether she’d stolen from the Alliance didn’t seem important anymore.
We lose everything,
she’d said. Because of the Alliance.

Because of me.

She hadn’t believed me about the shelter. I should never have expected her to. Her distrust of the Alliance ran so deep, nothing I said would change her mind. There was a good chance she’d scream the place down tomorrow. She wore a defensive shell I recognised all too clearly.

Idiot, Kay.

So Ada had agreed to come back. The fact remained that I’d let her and four others, walk free, including the two people who’d assaulted half the security team. But I’d known from the look on Ada’s face that the injured woman had been important—like a mother figure. I couldn’t take her away now. I refused to believe that there was no one in the Alliance who would have made the same choice. Ms Weston was just going to have to deal with it.

So I’d given my orders. Cleaned up the Passages, arranged for other teams to come and check out the hidden entrance. There was no clue as to where these other shelters might be. I’d leave that for later.

Back to Central and Ms Weston’s wrath.

But she wasn’t there. Gone home, I guessed. It was late evening by this time.
So it’s postponed until tomorrow,
I thought, delivering my report to Carl. He didn’t ask too many questions.

“Bring on the weekend,” he said, putting his communicator away. “No bloody overtime pay for dealing with this mess… no matter. You go home.”

“Sure.” Except I wasn’t going back to my apartment, I was driving across London to make sure Ada kept her word, because I’d officially lost it. And tomorrow, I’d probably lose my
job.
If I brought Ada tomorrow, then maybe…