Chosen (17 page)

Her fingertips dragged against the fabric of his ski coat, and the epiphany exploded in her brain: she could feel the texture only bluntly, like the pressure of a dentist’s fingers on a numb mouth.

For the first time, maybe ever, she grabbed the reins of her emotions in a firm hand—a very numb, but very firm hand—and she simply shut them down.

Using her left hand, she rubbed her right shoulder and eased the hand into her coat pocket, holding Cayne’s gaze as she did. She wouldn’t tell him this right now, not with that haunted look in his eyes.

His arms were roving over her, wiping tears that dampened her cheeks.

“S-sorry,” she said. “I think I got overwhelmed.”

It was like a car-crash, realizing that her fingers wouldn’t work. That whole arm wouldn’t work. But she gritted her teeth, and she tipped her forehead to Cayne’s coat and let him hold her, rubbing circles on her back before he turned around and led her through the basement door.

The sharp detergent smell reminded Julia of Floating, and further back, of being in group home, in the laundry closet.

 “It’s okay,” he murmured, holding her to his side, their steps in perfect sync despite his much longer legs. “Here he is.”

Cayne pushed through a gray door with a window on the top, and they found Edan sitting in a plastic chair beside a row of bright white washers and dryers.

Julia’s eyes found his, but his gaze was locked on Cayne’s.

“I can’t help her. I told you it would go too far for me.”

“It’s only been a day.”

“I have no control over how fast it takes hold.” Edan was on his feet, glancing over at Julia, tipping his head fractionally before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants and sucking back a deep breath. “Last time was like warming someone cold to prevent frostbite. It hadn’t sunk in.” Edan’s eyes met Cayne’s and held. “This time, the tissue’s dead. It’s too late.”

Instead of feeling fear, Julia simply watched Cayne’s face—the war there. The wanting, oh so much, to grab Edan by the neck and squeeze. The way he swallowed, shifted, rubbed his jaw.

“Are you telling me,” he gritted, “there’s nothing you can do?”

Edan held his arms out. “It’s moving fast.”

He held Cayne’s gaze for just a second before his eyes swung to Julia’s, full of regret. “Going to them is the only option.”

“You mean going to The Three.”

“Going to The Three.” He nodded.

Now Cayne stepped toward Edan, blocking his escape. “You need to try.”

Edan’s hands went out, the classic ‘not me’ stance. His eyes flickered up to something above Julia’s head, and she thought she heard a soft tapping.

“That’s my call. I’ve gotta go.”

And the suddenly, he was gone. Cayne’s mouth fell open. “How—what?”

“Cayne,” Julia whispered, and then she crumpled. He caught her, and the tapping sound grew louder, turning into footsteps. She looked past Cayne’s arm and saw the door open. Monte walked in.

“I can help you,” he said.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Meredith stepped out of the elevator, glancing up and down the rounded hallway before veering left—not right, the way she’d go to reach her own room. Room 533 was just a quick sprint away, a little longer if she speed-walked—and Meredith didn’t think she could sprint in her snow boots without falling on her ass. Besides, her stomach was fluttering so much it was making her feel sick.

Good flutters? Bad flutters? She didn’t freaking know.

She wished she could’ve gone with Julia and Cayne to track down Edan, the shady bastard. She would have—on any other day. But she had other plans. These.

She reached the door and raised her arm to knock. Her hand felt like it weighed a million pounds.
Tap, tap, tap, tap
. In the silence that followed, she held her breath, praying no one would walk by.

The door opened a second later, and her entire body sagged with relief.

“Nathan. Can I come in?” Her voice was high. Abnormal.

He nodded, opening the door wider. “Come on.”

God, it was weird to see him here. He was wearing olive green pants made of coarse material; they looked like hiking pants, if that could be believed. And over that, a black fleece Northface jacket. Nathan in Northface. What had the world come to?

Then he held out his hand for hers, and that was even crazier. His fingers closed loosely over hers, and
oh, my
, it was a good feeling. Too good.

Meredith yanked his wrist as he led her toward the couch. She needed to put him off-balance, to show both of them he wasn’t a Shepherd anymore. At least not hers.

Her gaze skimmed his classically handsome profile, his all-American-boy brown eyes and soft brown hair. She approved. She totally, totally approved. He was looking at her, too, and his thoughts were obvious.

Abruptly, as they reached the couch, she dropped his hand and unzipped her ski coat, tossing it over a wing-backed chair. Underneath she wore only a tight, lime green t-shirt that said
Holla
. She didn’t know what it meant, had lived at the compound for too long to know what was cool anymore, but she liked its attitude.

Nathan was checking her out as he sat down beside her. She could feel it.

She scowled and sat back, like she was cozier than cozy and totally at ease. “Nathan, this is killing me. Do you know how hard it is to keep this secret?”

 Not surprisingly, he looked serious.

“I understand what it must be like for you, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I asked you to.”

“What’s the plan? I haven’t heard anything from you. I thought you were going to keep in touch.”

“Meredith, I only called to let you know I’m here last night.” His jaw worked slightly, not a quiet display of fury or unhappiness like when Cayne did it, but just a subtle thing. His brown eyes met hers. “How is she?”

Meredith shrugged, sorting through her memory for what she’d told him and what she’d kept back. “She hasn’t been feeling well. Do you know why that would be?” She was testing him. She knew Nathan; she knew all his tells: the way his mouth pulled slightly to the right, the way his eyes got vague and distant. She didn’t need her ability to see if he was telling the truth.

He just looked at her. “Maybe a virus? After being in the protection of the compound…” He shrugged, and Meredith felt a little sorry for him.

“Nathan, I don’t think it’s that. If she’s really The One, the way you say… I think it’s something The Three did.”

If he knew about the leash, his face would show it. She waited, noticing the stubble on his cheeks and chin, thinking how he’d have probably charmed a lot of girls looking for a ‘good’ guy had he gone to high school. If he didn’t turn them off by being on debate team..

“I don’t think so,” he said decisively. “Like I said, they want her back. That’s why they sent me here. Have you talked to her?”

Meredith shook her head. “Like I told you… I really don’t think she will. And I don’t think she should. Nathan, no one but you has even met The Three. Why would Julia trust them? Why should she? I know I don’t. And…listen: There’s something I haven’t told you.”

Nathan listened intently as she explained about the leash, deciding at the last minute not to reveal who had told them about it; she just said ‘someone we’ve met.’

As soon as she was over, he was on feet, shaking his head. “There’s no way. They wouldn’t harm her.”

“This hurt is a headache. A really bad one, but just a headache. You really don’t think they would do that to get her back? If, like you keep saying, this is ‘a war.’”

Nathan shook his head. “They don’t need that. They know I won’t fail.”

In the old days, Meredith would have scoffed at his classic Hero Nathan-ness. Now she gently shook her head.

“I don’t think you can get her to go back.”

Nathan’s mouth pressed flat. “I haven’t even had a chance to try. Do you think you can get me that? Get me in to talk to her without anybody going to the people here and branding me as some kind of…some kind of outsider?”

“I don’t know.” She slumped, feeling horribly torn. “Why don’t you believe me? Why do you think they’re so good?:

But she already knew the answer. Nathan was practically born at the compound. He’d been one of The Three’s pets for as long as anyone could remember, a Shepherd from the moment he turned 15. Of course he trusted The Three. Like kids trusted their parents.

Still, his answer was surprisingly logical. “Because they are good. I’ve never seen them do anything bad. Never heard of any orders given that would hurt anyone.”

“And those reanimated corpses?”

He rubbed his hand across his face, and rubbed his eyes. “They’re called reanimated Chosen, Mer,” he told her through his fingers. “They’re not violent. They have no will of their own. I dispatched them myself. They were completely obedient.”

And what could Meredith say to that? She nodded. And felt tears fill her eyes. She breathed through them, but Nathan noticed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, leaning closer. She looked at his hands, wanting them to touch her. Feeling like a traitor.

“What are you going to do if you can’t get her to go back?” Meredith asked.

Nathan shook his head. He leaned in, all brown eyes, and tentatively, so very tentatively, so very softly, his perfect lips brushed hers.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Julia’s back was pressed against Cayne’s rock-hard chest, and he had his arm around her shoulders, holding her gently to him. Which was a good thing, because as soon as she saw Monte standing in the doorway, Julia’s knees began to tremble.

“What do we need help with?” Cayne asked coolly. Even without seeing him, Julia knew his eyes were shrewd. His jaw was locked. He was daring Monte to come out with it.

Monte’s poker face was Vegas-worthy. He stepped into the laundry room, reaching behind himself to shut the door but never turning his back. Then he whipped out his phone and typed something into it while Julia shivered like a wet dog. Cayne turned her around, so her face was in the crevice of his arm and chest, and she was glad for it because she was weak and dizzy.

Julia couldn’t see Monte’s face, but she heard the intensity in his voice. “We can help you. We can hide you. We’ve been waiting for The One, too. We consider it good fortune that you’re here with us, not with The Three.”

There was a brief pause, as if Monte expected them to thank him. Or something. When neither she nor Cayne spoke, Monte said, “I thought it might be Julia. She has an energy that was hard to miss. Jacquie agreed—her gift is reading people through touch, and she got the same impression when she shook Julia’s hand.”

“Why didn’t she say anything?” Cayne asked.

 “She wanted to wait until Julia told us.”

“Well, she didn’t. And we’re not looking for help with strings attached.”

“We’re not suggesting strings you wouldn’t want,” Monte countered quietly.

“Don’t count on that.”

Julia’s muscles were screaming, every single one of them. Her senses were so overwhelmed by the pain in her head—pain now mixed with flickering numbness that traveled almost to her waist—she could hardly follow the conversation, but she gritted her teeth and hugged Cayne a little harder, and she forced herself to stay present for this talk about her life, her future.

She heard a creaking sound, like a door’s hinge. Then a woman’s voice.

“Monte? Cayne?” Jacquie. “I think we should move this conversation elsewhere. Maybe back to Julia’s room? We can talk when we get there.”

Suddenly Cayne swept Julia up, and he was carrying her like she didn’t weigh a thing. His eyes flicked down to hers, and she saw love in them. Then he looked back up, and he said, “We can talk on the roof.”

“The roof?” Jacquie sounded surprised. “Have you been outside? We’ve just had to cancel the sporting events, something we very rarely do.”

“I want a room with windows,” Cayne amended.

Julia strained her neck a little, trying get at an angle where she could read Jacquie’s face, although the straining was agony for her head.

“A room with windows.” Jacquie’s smile was small and tense. “We can do that, can’t we, Monte? Why don’t you lead the way?”

Monte nodded once, and Julia wondered if he’d always been kind of a tool. She couldn’t remember.

“Start talking,” Cayne said.

 “She needs our help, and we have many resources,” Jacquie said, keeping her voice so low Julia had to strain to hear her. “If she’s suffering from a leash of will, we ease her suffering. Possibly even break it.”

“How? Have you had experience with one of these…
leashes
before?”

“There is an ex-Chosen with us that has the ability to create one. Not as strong as Methuselah, though.”

“So you might not be able to help her.”

“I feel confident we can take care of the pain, at least. Soon, when The Three have been extinguished, she’ll be well again and free to live her life.”

“Soon?” Cayne asked.

“Soon.”

“Until then?”

They were walking now, up stairs.

“Until then, this is a war. Julia is free to choose her side, but I can’t imagine it would be theirs.”

Monte held the door for them at the fifth floor. Cayne fell back, letting Monte and Jacquie get a few steps in front. He kissed Julia’s forehead, his green eyes wide and concerned. “Are you okay?” He sounded grave.

“Yes.”

His jaw worked, and his quiet voice was deep with feeling. “We’ll do whatever you want,” he murmured.

“There doesn’t seem to be much of a choice.”

Cayne shook his head. “Edan is…we could try to force him, but honestly I don’t know if that would work.”

Julia nodded, closing her eyes, and Cayne’s lips came, once again, near her ear. “Everything will be fine.”

And that’s when Julia passed out.

*

“How can you be sure it worked?” The disembodied voice sounded like Cayne’s.

Julia felt someone tap her arm. She heard mumbling, followed by the closing of a door and a long sigh. She shut her eyes, too tired to follow.

Sometime later she was aware of something warm near her feet. She opened her eyes and found Cayne sitting cross-legged beside her on the bed, wearing a black long-john shirt and looking beautiful and tired.