Created (Talented Saga) (17 page)

Crane stood and came to crouch in front of my chair.
He met my tear-filled eyes before he wrapped long arms around me in a tight embrace. At first, I stiffened, surprised by the affection. Slowly, I relaxed and leaned my head against his shoulder and cried.

Chapter Eleven

Before he left the night, Crane had Marin send down ginger-infused tea with honey and a plate of sugar cookies.
He asked if I wanted him to stay, or to send Frederick or Penny to keep me company. I declined. Erik’s was the only company I craved.

With the floral-patterned china teacup clutched between my palms, I returned to Erik’s beside and told him about my father.
He’d been here, obviously, but it felt good to repeat the hard truths out loud. I tried to keep Crane’s sentiments in mind, about how my father was a good man with good intentions and that Dr. Wythe and Mac deserved all of the blame. But my mind kept going back to that saying about the road to hell being paved with good intentions. If the Council didn’t stop Mac soon, there’d be hell on earth.

While I’d been certain sleep was an impossibility, I must’ve succumbed at some point because next I knew, Frederick was shaking my shoulder to wake me up.
My head felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on top of it, and my mouth tasted like Erik’s workout clothes smelled. Marin must’ve put a sleeping pill in that tea, I thought as I tried to will away the pounding in my head.

“Why don’t you shower and get dressed?
You have about an hour until your evaluation,” Frederick told me, and then blessedly handed me a mug of rich black coffee.

“You’re an angel,” I muttered, stumbling out of my chair to take the coffee.

“I’ll remember you said that,” he teased.

I sipped the hot beverage, letting the fragrant aroma and bold flavors give life to my senses.
Still groggy, but more steady on my feet, I dutifully trooped to the bathroom to get ready for the day. The hot spray from the shower felt amazing as it unkinked my taxed muscles and eased the knots in my shoulders. I wanted to spend time with Erik before the evaluation, just in case Victoria did rattle me enough that I flipped on her and they shipped me off to a containment facility, so I didn’t linger too long.

I combed through the tangles in my dark curls as I stared at my reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink.
My face was too angular, my cheekbones too defined. Stress and exhaustion were taking a toll on my appearance. Not to mention the bruises that served as a reminder of what happened when I lost my temper. They looked worse than they had yesterday, the swollen red stung-by-a-bee appearance having given way to swirls of black and blue. By tomorrow, the marks would have faded. I had TOXIC to thank for that gift.

When I returned to the main room, Frederick was in my seat, talking to Erik.

“Henri’s going to come by soon. He’s worried about you, man. We all are. Talia more than the rest of us. She only leaves your side when she has to. Come back to us soon.”

I felt like an eavesdropper as I stood in the doorframe and listened to Frederick’s encouraging words.
I cleared my throat, startling Frederick. His cheeks flushed to pale pink, which made his delicate features appear pretty, almost feminine. I smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry,” I said.
“Didn’t mean to overhear.”

He shook his head, sending light blonde hair fanning over his forehead.
“It’s cool. Dr. Patel said talking to him might help. Anyway, you ready?”

I chewed my lower lip and nodded.
“Can I have a minute with him? Just in case I don’t come back.”

“That won’t happen, Tal,” Frederick said confidently.
“Ian won’t let them take you.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied, though, I wasn’t sure he would be able to stop Victoria if she labeled me dangerous.
“Still, I’d hate it if I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“I’ll be outside.”
Frederick stood, smoothed the small creases in his jeans, and headed for the door.

I waited until I heard the soft click of the door shutting before joining Erik.
Using the tip of my right forefinger, I traced the contours of his face, committing them to memory, as if that were necessary. His face was what I saw every time I closed my eyes. I placed feather-light kisses on each of his closed eyelids, his bruised cheek, and finally his split lip.

“Cool, calm, and collected,”
I sent him, even though I couldn’t reach his unconscious mind.
“I won’t let Victoria bait me.”
The promise was more to myself than him, but thinking it helped remind me how important that was.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
I hated how true that statement was.

When I found Frederick in the hallway a moment later, he wasn’t alone.
Henri, arm in a sling, was wrapped in his boyfriend’s arms. They both colored slightly when they noticed me, and I realized how rare it was to see them display physical emotion in public. Well, not really public; until I’d intruded they’d been alone.

“I’m going to read to him,” Henri said, holding up a leather-bound book with his good hand.
“Give me something to do besides twiddle my thumbs. I gotta say, recovery is boring.”

I smiled up at him.
“Yeah, tell me about it. Try nine months of solitude. It sucks.”

Frederick was getting antsy now, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

“I guess it’s time,” I said, his nervous energy compounding my own. I started to sweat, despite the cool hallway and sundress I’d chosen for the occasion.

I’d selected a white sundress over more casual options like jeans or shorts because I wanted to appear innocent.
Victoria wasn’t likely to be fooled by such an obvious ruse, but it couldn’t hurt either.

Henri kissed Frederick lightly on the cheek, a small peck that seemed to express so much more than mild affection.
Then he leaned down and hugged me with his good arm.

“Just don’t be yourself,” he teased, “and you’ll be good.”

“Thanks,” I snorted, only slightly offended, and returned his embrace.

Three minutes that passed too quickly later, Frederick and I were standing outside an unmarked door on sublevel two.
This was one of the few floors I’d yet to explore, and I didn’t get the chance now. The empty corridor looked much like the others, with its stone walls and floors; it was the atmosphere that felt different. It had a colder, more impersonal feel than anywhere else I’d been in Coalition Headquarters, which heightened my unease.

“I’ll be right here when you’re finished,” Frederick told me.

I nodded mutely, unable to form words. He knocked on the unmarked door. Three sharp thumps that echoed through the sublevel. I heard a whoosh as the airlock released, followed by a small creak when the door swung inward. Without glancing at Frederick, I entered to face my fate.

Victoria sat in the middle of a long, rectangular table.
Her hair was neatly styled in a chignon, and she wore a crisp red pantsuit the color of fresh blood. I felt a tug on my heartstrings as I met her golden eyes. Her polished appearance reminded me of Gretchen. Gretchen, who I hadn’t given a second thought to since fleeing D.C. How much did she know? I pushed the thought aside before it could distract me from more immediate concerns.

On either side of Victoria were two additional council members.
One was the Portuguese delegate, the other a man I’d never seen. Doctor, was my immediate thought. He had that look to him, that superior air of one who thought himself better than others. Immediate dislike sent off warning bells in my head.

“Ms. Lyons, good of you to join us this morning,” Victoria greeted me in a regal tone that brought to mind images of a queen addressing her subjects.
“Please, have a seat.” She indicated the lone plastic chair facing the panel of three.

Head held high, spine ramrod straight, I took my place.
Once seated, I arranged the pleats of my white dress so that the fabric hung just below my knees and crossed my ankles to prevent fidgeting. My hair was still a little damp from my shower and it felt heavy, like a wet veil cascading down my back.

“I am Victoria Walburton.
This is Councilwoman Amberly Azevedo,” she indicated the Portuguese councilwoman with a nod in the other woman’s direction. “And this is Dr. Kramer.” She gestured to her other side. “We would like to start by asking you a few questions, if that is alright with you?” Victoria phrased it as though she was asking permission, her voice lilting at the end of the sentence to suggest a question mark. I wasn’t fooled by her polite tone. We both knew I didn’t have a choice.

“Of course, Councilwoman,” I said.
Two could play this game, I thought.

In the beginning, many of the questions were the same as the day before.
I tried not to show how annoying I found the repetition.

They had me recount the story I’d told them the previous day.
Instead of asking for clarification on confusing points, they hammered me with question after question until I became so confused that I wasn’t sure which way was up, let alone what the truth was. Just when I thought I knew where one line of questioning was headed, one of the council members would throw a wrench in the mix and ask, “And how did that make you feel?” like this was a therapy session with Dr. Wythe.

They asked me about destroying Donavon’s cabin when I’d been a pledge, and whether, now that I was older and had had time to reflect on the incident, would I have acted differently?

“No,” I snapped without thinking, recalling the rage I’d felt seeing Kandice’s long hair spilling over the side of Donavon’s bed.

“How many people have you killed, Ms. Lyons?” Amberly asked.

“I don’t keep a body count,” I replied through gritted teeth.

“Five?
Ten? A hundred?” she prompted.

“I said, I don’t know.”
Calm, cool, collected,
I chanted.

“You don’t have many friends, isn’t that correct, Ms. Lyons?” Victoria switched gears.

“I have enough,” I said uneasily, not sure where this was going.

“Is it because you think you are better than your peers?
Because your talents are superior to theirs?” Victoria urged.

“No,” I scoffed.
“I’ve been a little busy to worry about a social life.”

My palms were sweating, and I discreetly wiped them on the folds of my dress.

“Busy? Busy planning the assassination of your parents’ killer?” Victoria asked.

“Busy training to become a Hunter,” I clarified.

“But you wanted to become a Hunter to avenge Francis and Katerina, correct?”

My temper was reaching the breaking point.
The casual mention of my parents’ names was one brick too many in my wobbly control.

“Yes, I did.
Wouldn’t you?” I shot back angrily. Cool, calm, and collected were gone.

“You have quite the temper, Ms. Lyons,” the doctor said.
He’d been fairly quiet up to this point.

“Since the day I was born,” I said.
Maybe not the wisest remark, but it was true, and I didn’t want them thinking I’d developed this attitude after being injected.

“On a scale of one to ten, ten being highest, how much has being injected with the creation drug affected your personality?” Amberly asked.

I met her smoky gaze and shrugged. “Two,” I lied.

My personality shift was noticeable, but manageable.
At least, now that I knew the cause it was manageable. While no one called me a liar, the accusation was on all three minds.

“The night your parents were killed, what happened?”
Victoria again.

I swallowed hard.
This was the first open-ended question they’d asked me. Even the ones about my feelings regarding a particular incident had facilitated one word answers. This, though, this was different. I felt the mood in the room shift and had the horrible realization that this was what they’d wanted to talk about from the beginning. My actions that horrible night were going to be what condemned me to containment, not anything that had happened since the injection.

“Ms. Lyons, answer the question,” Victoria said impatiently, tapping one red-tipped nail on the glass table in front of her.

“TOXIC men entered the hotel room where my family was staying, killed my parents, and took me.” I shrugged. “End of story.”

Victoria smiled condescendingly as she shared a conspiratorial glance with first
Amberly and then the doctor. She made an annoying clucking sound with her tongue and shook her head. “No, Ms. Lyons, that is not the end of the story. According to our records, you killed the intruders.”

A gust of wind whipped through the room, conjured from nowhere.
I sat on my hands and tried to think happy thoughts. Calm, cool, collected. Calm, cool, collected.

“Ms. Lyons, we are interested in understanding the extent of your abilities, both before and after the injection.
Now, please, answer the question.”

“Why?” I snapped.
“Obviously you have the answer in front of you. Do you want me to admit it? Fine, I did it. I killed those bastards and I don’t regret it. Are you happy? Does that help you understand how dangerous I am? What a threat I am?”