Resistance (The Variant Series #2) (16 page)

She had every right to be with them at that meeting. It was
her
future. Not theirs.

The slow fury burning in the pit of her stomach was quickly tempered by thoughts of Friday afternoon and her spotty memories of the event.

Alex winced. “Decks, what… What did I do? At the school? I mean, I remember there being
water
everywhere and my head feeling like someone stuck it in a vice, but… How much damage did I do?”

Kenzie had assured her that no one had been hurt, but if her aunt and Grayson were in DC, it couldn’t have been as
uneventful
as Kenzie tried to make it seem.

“Uh,” Declan scratched the back of his head, causing his thick blonde hair to stick up at odd angles. “You, uh… It wasn’t…”

“That bad, huh?” Alex frowned.

Declan ran his thumb slowly over her knuckles. Her hand rested so naturally in his that she’d nearly forgotten their fingers were still woven together.

Fear welled up inside her. What if this was it? What if the Agency finally had the excuse they’d been looking for to put her away forever? Or worse, to put her
down
, for good?

“It’s going to be alright, Lex,” Declan said softly. “No matter what happens, I won’t leave your side. And I won’t let the Agency take you. Not without a fight. You have my word.”

Alex gripped his hand a little tighter, turning her face toward his.

Declan’s usual mask of cynicism had fallen away, the puckish grin she’d grown so accustomed to seeing in moments like these replaced by a furrowed brow and a look of determination.

He hadn’t spoken those words lightly.

Declan was making a promise to protect her, and she knew it was a promise he meant to keep.

Reaching out with his free hand, Declan trailed his fingertips lightly across her cheek, sending a pleasant shiver rippling across her skin. Alex smiled at the sensation.

She really
had
missed that.

Declan lifted his hand, breaking the contact. Alex tried not to look as disappointed as she felt.

With a ghost of a smile, Declan leaned closer.

The sound of a door creaking on its hinges caused them to leap apart.

Accidentally swallowing the last of the mint, Alex coughed.

The bedroom door inched its way open and a head full of nut brown hair peeked around the corner. Declan immediately disentangled his fingers from hers.

And just like that, the moment was forgotten.

Declan’s mask of cynical indifference was already back in place

“Oh, good!” said Brian, opening the door wider. He had a tray cradled against his side. “You guys are awake.”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock, kid?” asked Declan.

Brian ignored him.

“Good morning, Brian,” said Alex, trying to compensate for Declan’s grousing.

“Morning!” he replied.

“What’s that on the tray?” asked Declan.

“Something for Alex,” he said. “Thought you might be ready to eat, so I brought you some toast. There’s also a cup of water and another cup of ice chips in case your throat’s still sore. Wasn’t sure what you’d be up for, so if you want something else, I can always run downstairs and get it.”

Brian slid the tray onto the bed beside Alex.

“Wait,” said Declan, looking over the contents of the tray. “There’s only one plate of toast here. Where’s
my
breakfast, kid?”

Brian rolled his eyes behind his too-large glasses, then pushed the frames further up the bridge of his nose. “Like I’m going to bring
you
breakfast in bed.”

Alex tried unsuccessfully to hide her smile.

It was pretty obvious that Brian idolized his two adopted brothers—Declan in particular—but even hero-worship appeared to have its limits.

“Go get it yourself,” said Brian, sinking down on the bed next to Alex.

“Aww, thanks Brian.” Alex gave the boy a feather-light hug, careful not to brush against his skin. “You’re the best.”

Declan mumbled something about disrespect, brown-nosing, and bacon under his breath.

“Oh, hey!” said a second voice from the doorway. “It’s a party and no one invited me. I’m crushed. Crushed, I tell you.”

“Morning, Kenzie,” said Brian.

“Toast?” offered Alex.

“Is that blackberry jam?” Kenzie wandered closer and sat at the foot of the bed, a steaming mug of coffee clasped in one hand. “Don’t mind if I do!”

With her nausea gone and an empty stomach, the ordinary scent of morning coffee was divine. Alex breathed in the aroma with a smile.

Kenzie noticed the longing looks Alex was sending toward her mug.

“Here,” said Kenzie, offering up her coffee. “I’ll trade you.”

Alex accepted the cup gratefully as Kenzie reached for a piece of toast.

“Hey, you’re up,” said Aiden from the doorway. “Perfect. I just need to get in here real quick…”

Nathaniel appeared behind him. “Someone call a family meeting and forget to tell me?” he asked, eyeing the collection of his siblings all scattered on the bed around Alex.

Aiden made his way over to the closet and rifled through his shirts. Pulling one off its hanger, he stripped off the basketball jersey he’d been wearing since the day before and stuffed it in a duffel bag in a corner of the closet.

Alex tried not to stare at the muscles in his back flexing as he tugged on a clean shirt.

If only Cassie were here to see
this
.

Oh.

And there went his pants.

“
Jesus
, Aiden,” Declan grumbled. “Can’t you get changed somewhere else? There are ladies present, you know.”

“I’m wearing
boxers
, jackass,” said Aiden as he climbed into a pair of faded jeans. “It’s not like I’m walking around in a g-string. Alex’s virtue should still be intact.”

Alex studiously pretended not to realize what was happening, while Kenzie was too preoccupied with the food on the tray to notice anything going on behind her.

“Phmoast?” offered Kenzie around a mouthful of her breakfast. She held out a slice to Nathaniel.

Nate held up a hand. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

“Heard from the boss yet?” asked Declan.

Nate shook his head. “Actually, they ought to be meeting with the Director right about…” He stole a glance at his watch. “Now.”

* * *

“Just follow my lead, Cecilia.”

Cil smoothed out the lines of her blouse for the hundredth time and made a valiant effort not to fidget.

She should have changed.

The orchestral sounds of Debussy carried through the air around them at a low volume, overshadowed only by the low notes of conversation taking place in the room around the corner.

The waiting area was drenched in early morning sunlight, setting the golden hues of the marble floors and the matching colonnades aglow.

Cecilia Cross was officially out of her element.

Grayson, on the other hand, looked perfectly at home in such ornate surroundings. A crisp tailored suit, clean-shaven, not a hair out of place.

He seemed entirely at ease, despite the gravity of their situation. This was his world. One of old money and even older power.

An attractive young couple ahead of them in line was escorted around the corner and out of sight. The maître d’ gave Cil a once over—and a disapproving frown—before turning his attention to Grayson.

Cil glanced down at her dark jeans and white blouse, an outfit that was now entering its second day. Another quick attempt to smooth out the wrinkles she’d gathered sitting beside Alex on a bathroom floor for half the night revealed a splotch of blue paint dried and crusted onto her sleeve.

She
really
should have changed.

“Welcome back, Mr. Grayson.” The maître d’ inclined his head in a small bow. “A pleasure to have you with us again. Director Carter has already arrived. Please follow me and I’ll be happy to show you to your seat.”

“Thank you, Tomas,” said Grayson.

Grayson’s hand went to the small of her back as they were led around a corner and into the expansive dining area. Cil struggled to take it all in while still scanning the room for the Director—and for anything that seemed out of place.

Just because Dana Carter had offered an olive branch and a meeting on neutral ground didn’t mean she wasn’t up to her old tricks.

Glass panes lined two of the exterior walls, stretching from floor to ceiling and displaying a beautiful panorama of the park across the street. Tables covered in white cloths were scattered around the room, most of them already occupied by men in pale suits and women in designer sundresses. All of them enjoying a Sunday morning brunch at Chez Pierre.

The Director was seated on a slightly elevated partition at a four-person table that had been set flush against the glass wall. From where she sat she had a clear view of both the park and the entire dining area.

“Good morning, Jonathan,” said Dana, her voice like liquid metal. “Cecilia. I trust your journey here was pleasant.” 

Journey? It’s not as though they’d spent the morning on a plane.

They’d simply jumped—

Oh
, thought Cil.
But Dana
knew
that, didn’t she?

Grayson had always hated to teleport, preferring to take the long road when traveling to faraway places. Granted, jumping
was
an experience that took some getting used to, but Jonathan outright despised it.

And that was something
else
that Dana was well aware of.

It was a dig at Grayson right out the gate. Dana was the only woman Cil had ever met who could so successfully gloat without even cracking a smile.

Grayson was staring at Dana through narrowed eyes. He slid out a chair for Cil, then another for himself. This meeting was already off to a lousy start.

“Good morning, Dana,” Grayson said as he settled into the chair.

“More coffee, Tomas,” ordered Dana.

“Certainly, Director. And for you and your companion, Mr. Grayson? Can we bring you something to drink?”

“Coffee,” said Grayson, without turning his head. He and Dana were locked in a staring match that was starting to make Cil uncomfortable.

She smiled awkwardly up at Tomas. “Just water, thank you.”

“Of course, madam.” Another frown. “It would be a pleasure.”

Tomas sauntered off.

The corner of Dana’s mouth quirked upward in a vicious smirk. “I warned you, Jonathan.”

Immediately down to business. Dana never was the sort for prolonged pleasantries.

Grayson stared steadily ahead. “The event at the school was kept well under control. Alex is already—”

Dana scoffed. “Twenty-eight thousand dollars in property damage and fourteen hundred witnesses is your idea of keeping her
under control
? Christ, Grayson. I’d very much hate to see what you consider
out
of control.”

“No one was there to witness the accident except for the O’Connell children,” said Cil. “Her teacher’s memory of allowing Alex a hall pass has been altered by one of your men, and no one else saw her after she left her classroom. There’s nothing left to tie her to the accident.”

“
Accident
?” Dana turned her icy blue gaze on Cil. “An accident would suggest that the event was entirely unexpected. It wasn’t an accident, Cecilia. It was an inevitability.”

“The event’s been cleaned up,” said Grayson. “The repairs to the school will be completed by this evening and the abilities are already out of Alex’s system. She’s no longer at risk of losing control.”

The smug look on Dana’s face caused Cil’s stomach to drop.

Their negotiations were over before they’d even begun. The Director wasn’t here to listen to their arguments. She was here to deliver a verdict.

Dana took a sip of her coffee. “And what’s to stop it from happening again?”

Cil twisted the napkin in her lap. “Nothing,” she said.

“Cecilia—” Grayson began.

“No, John. Let me speak.” Cil leaned forward in her seat. “Masterson wants Alex for something, it’s true, but he also wants her
free
. If he wanted her under Agency control, he would have delivered her to you himself.”

“Which is just another argument in the Agency’s favor, Cecilia,” said Dana. “The last thing we can afford is to give that sociopath what he wants. If he doesn’t want Alexandra under the Agency’s protection, then that’s exactly where she ought to be.”

Cil raised an eyebrow. “You really aren’t that stupid, are you?”

“
Cil
,” Grayson said quietly.

He didn’t get it.

Dana was beyond
reasoning with
. They weren’t here to plead Alex’s case. The Agency wanted Alex, and this public meeting was just Dana’s way of ensuring that they wouldn’t cause a scene when she made her demands.

“I beg your pardon?” Dana’s voice was dangerously calm.

“I said,” Cil raised her own voice to the point that she attracted curious stares from the nearby tables. “Are you really so
stupid
as to think that Masterson will
let you
take Alex?”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“If you even
think
about taking my niece into custody,” Cil continued, “I can guarantee that you won’t like the consequences. Masterson has already proven that he will go to great lengths to get what he wants. And if what he wants is Alex, then God help
anyone
who stands in his way.”

And God help
her
, because she must be crazy. She was actually using Samuel’s sick actions to support her argument to keep Alex free.

Unfortunately, it was the only play she had left.

She just prayed Grayson would decide to back her up.

He shifted slightly in his seat, clearing his throat. “Cil’s right, Dana. There’s no point in squabbling over Alex’s freedom so long as Masterson still poses a threat. Neither of us are currently in a position to stop him from getting what he wants, and you know it. The best thing we could be doing right now is preparing
Alex
to stand against him, in the event that
we
are unable to derail the future he has planned. However, if you want the death of dozens of agents on your head when he comes for her, then by all means, make that call.”