Deviation (20 page)

The return to Rogen Tower is somber with an undercurrent of urgency. The men shift in their seats several times before we even reach the main road. Someone hands me an aspirin and a bottle of water. I take it gladly.

The sky is lighter when we finally break free of the trees, a grayish haze that grows slowly brighter as we approach the city.

From my place between Alton and Deitrich, I watch the landscape change from trees and wheat fields to dilapidated buildings, marking our re-entry. The lower downtown area is just as I remembered: dirty and derelict, its inhabitants hollow-eyed from their missing hope.

A dozen red lights later, the scenery changes again. Brick and limestone homes with wrought-iron railings and wraparound porches. They’re built close to the street. Obadiah says it’s to deter criminals from prowling the property. Street views mean more eyes to witness. But I wonder if that would even matter. Not many I’ve met from Raven’s world seem to care much for the next guy.

At the top of a hill, we turn left toward uptown and the driver slows for traffic. Cars slide in beside us as the road widens to multiple lanes. The sky is streaked pink with daybreak but buildings on either side block out most of the sunlight and probably all of its warmth.

We pull to an abrupt stop and I’m shoved forward with the momentum. My seatbelt catches and then I’m driven back again. Titus scowls and punches a button beside him. The partition between us and the driver lowers. “Traffic,” our driver explains before anyone can say a word.

“We don’t have time for this,” Titus snaps. “Get us home.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver mumbles. With the partition down, I see nothing but red taillights and bumper-to-bumper traffic ahead.

A throaty engine whirs to life up ahead, whizzing off before I can catch a glimpse. Again, it makes me think of Linc’s motorcycle but I can’t see beyond the parking lot of cars.

“Now,” Titus demands, slapping the partition for emphasis. The driver flinches but our car doesn’t move. There’s nowhere to go. I wait for the driver to say as much, but he just turns the wheel a hard right, punches the gas, and launches us down a side street hard enough to drive me back against the leather.

Satisfied, Titus raises the partition once again.

The rest of the drive is fast and jerky. I concentrate on sticking to my space as we round turns that threaten to throw me against Alton or Deitrich. I don’t want to land on either one. Staying upright is a full-time distraction. I don’t give myself a single second to remember the things I’ve just seen back at the City. There will be plenty of time later—when I’m not thrown around like a bale of hay.

Finally, the car lurches to a stop and Deitrich is out the door before I can confirm we’ve arrived. He turns back, gesturing with his hand for me to hurry and follow. Alton is practically shoving me from behind. I scoot out, trying to get my bearings.

We’ve parked in the alleyway, the same alley Melanie attacked me in before. The same alley I stood in when she told me I had all of the ingredients to be human. That it was up to me now to protect the rest of my kind. The last place she stood before captivity. Before.

I shiver, from the cold or the memories I’m not sure.

Titus marches to the front of the group and leads the way to the side entrance. He swipes a card and the lock clicks. Deitrich holds the door for me as I bring up the rear. My feet hesitate. I don’t want to go back but I don’t want to move forward, either.

Titus notices my hesitation and barks, “Come,” from the open doorway. And I do.

The moment we arrive upstairs there is a flurry of activity. Titus switches gears, barking commands and calling for “all hands” right there in the parlor—a room normally set aside for his personal space but tonight is the hub of “meet me here” and “report there for further instruction.”

I am not informed of the details of the situation that has called everyone to such focused action nor do I care when the only member of security left standing is Linc.

He has cleaned himself up since I last saw him. Fresh clothes and even from several feet away I smell the soap from his shower. The skin around his left eye is swollen and already turning a sickly shade of yellow. A small cut is visible along his jaw and another below his ear. His neck holds a few scrapes and a red mark that looks raised like a welt.

I think of the fight and what caused it. Not necessarily Titus orchestrating but Daniel actually going for the bait Titus laid out for him. He seemed so different with me. Almost gentle. And sane. Would he really attack an innocent girl? More importantly, a girl who isn’t a Raven? Other than Melanie, he’s never shown interest in other girls—and even then his feeling hadn’t matched hers. It hadn’t come close to the emotion he showed when he spoke of Raven—
his
Raven. Is she the one I saw?

But the fear that had paralyzed Sofia’s features into a wide-eyed and frozen mask had been all too real. I’ve only to recall her face to know it must be true. I wonder how she’s doing. If she’ll sneak away and go work or live somewhere else or if she’ll stay under the roof and employment of a man who thought nothing of serving her up on a midnight platter.

Linc catches my eye and I look away. Partly because Titus looms near the fireplace, watching, and partly because I know Linc wouldn’t care to know that looking at him makes me wonder how Daniel has fared.

Titus finishes speaking to Maria in a low voice and grabs his wallet and key cards off the table where he tossed them earlier. He checks his phone, frowns, and pockets it, turning to go.

“Sir,” Linc says as if to remind Titus he is there in the first place.

Titus scowls at Linc and then me as if he hadn’t meant to let it end up this way, but he must be in too much of a hurry to care. He shrugs his coat on again and flips his collar, glaring at us in turn. “I have to take care of something important. I will be back when I can. In the meantime, keep your hands off each other. Stay in the library,” he adds almost as an afterthought.

“I’d like to change—” I begin, gesturing to my clothes.

“The library,” he repeats, leaving no question what will happen if I’m found elsewhere when he returns. He holds up his phone. “And don’t forget, I’ll be watching.”

“Yes, sir,” I mutter, unwilling to argue it further. Not when my confinement includes Linc for company.

Titus grunts, apparently satisfied, and walks out. I stare across the empty space at Linc. He stares back. Neither of us moves as clipped footsteps fade down the hall. A moment later, I hear the elevator ding and the doors slide open, then closed again. The house falls silent.

I stay where I am, hyper-aware of the cameras and invisible eyes fixed on us.

Three seconds later, Maria appears. She looks back and forth between us and there is no doubt in my mind she’s been told to keep watch. As if the cameras aren’t enough. “Master Titus says you wait in library,” she says, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

I sigh and let her lead the way.

Linc is silent behind me as we walk. I want desperately to reach back and brush his fingertips with mine. To reassure him and myself that it will all work out. But I know what will happen if Titus finds out. To keep from trying it, I shove my hands into my jacket pocket and keep my head down.

The library is warm and lit when we arrive, as if this was the plan all along. I’m sure it was, just not necessarily with this particular bodyguard in tow. Maria steps aside to let us pass and then closes the door behind us without a word. I wait for the sound of a key being turned but none comes. Titus is trusting me to stay put. That and he’s watching my every move. Between the cameras and my GPS, I wouldn’t get far anyway.

I sink onto the couch, expecting Linc to join me, but he’s prowling the room, picking out listening devices from underneath tables and behind potted plants, disabling them via some hidden switch. Each one brings a few key strokes on the remote I’ve handed him. I press my lips together and wait.

The lull is enough to bring the night’s events flooding back to my exhausted and overloaded brain. I track Linc’s movements without really seeing him. The muscles in his arms flex, powerful yet subtle underneath the sleeves of his shirt as he reaches high on a shelf and retrieves a tiny black device.

My mind wanders to unwarranted images of other arms. Pale ones, detached from torsos, floating in fluid-filled containers. I don’t realize I’m shaking until Linc takes my hands and places them inside both of his. I blink and realize he’s sitting beside me. He pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around my shoulders, hugging me close. His breath is warm on my neck. I inhale the scent of wind and leather and gasoline, hanging onto it like the edges of a favorite blanket. It sweeps me up and deposits me somewhere safe. Somewhere no one else can reach.

He’s careful to keep away from my swollen cheek. I lean into him, finding the hollow place between his shoulder and throat. His hand strokes my hair as he whispers reassurances. I expect tears but they don’t come. Everything’s too jumbled and confusing to be tragic just yet. But I let him hold me and soak in his comfort.

Eventually, the words make their way to the surface and I have to get them out. I sit up, still clinging to Linc’s shoulders and drawing strength from his touch.

I raise a brow at him in silent question. He points at the floor. There’s a pile of black bugs at his feet, tiny frayed wires sticking out of one end. It’s a risk. If he’s missed even one, we will both suffer. I suffer anyway.

“Tell me,” he says simply.

I tell him every detail I can without losing it, beginning with Taylor’s remarks about my tattoo going public. When I get to tonight, to the body parts in jars and Titus’s threats against my friends, his jaw tightens and he squeezes my waist. I pause but he doesn’t interrupt, just nods me on. It isn’t until I tell him about seeing Raven that he cuts me off.

“Are you sure it was her?” he asks.

“Positive. Or, well, it was one of her,” I amend. “I have no idea which one.” I show him the picture. His mouth tightens as he stares at it, enlarges it, zooms, stares some more.

“This is not the one that was here before you,” he says quietly. He points to her chin. “Or if she was, she didn’t have this scar yet.” He hands the phone back to me. “And you don’t know what she was saying to you?”

“No.” I shake my head harder than necessary. My distress is turning to irritation at my lack of available options. I feel even more trapped than I did when I arrived at Rogen Tower—something I didn’t think was possible.

He sighs and it’s heavy and full of unspoken possibilities, none of them good.

“What are you thinking?” I ask quietly.

Something in my voice catches his notice and he looks up, the lines creasing his forehead smooth some. “Nothing good,” he admits. “But what about you? How are you holding up?”

I consider his question. “Okay,” I say, a little surprised at the realization. “Believe it or not, I mean it,” I assure him.

He studies me carefully, lifting a hand to smooth the edges of my hair and tuck it behind my ear. His smile is nothing more than a ghost as he says, “I can see that. You’ve come such a long way from the timid, terrified girl I met. He thinks he scared you off tonight, you know.”

“I know.” I swallow hard, pushing past the fear that tries to bubble up in the back of my throat. “And I am scared,” I admit. “But I’m more determined than I am afraid.”

“Determined to do what?” he asks. His hand is still stroking, still smoothing my hair, and I focus on that and let it comfort me, let it smooth out the wrinkles of worry. I wonder briefly about cameras and listening devices, but if Linc isn’t worried, neither am I.

My heart answers the question immediately. It is determined to be human, despite the impossibility of that. I catch myself before I can say something so unrealistic. Instead, I go with the next best thing. “To be free,” I say finally. I continue, the words coming faster as I give voice to the plan that’s been forming. “And I think I have a way to do it. I think we can use Raven, any one of them, really. If we can get to her, bring her here, people will be forced to see. Titus won’t be able to hide them anymore. Not when the whole world has evidence of copies standing right in front of them. They’ll have to accept us. They won’t allow him to lock people up like that.”