Second Thoughts (34 page)

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Authors: Cara Bertrand

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“I knew you'd be here somewhere.”

“You foresaw that? Incredible.”

I shrugged. “Why don't you share a secret with me too. Why do you want to kill me?”

He studied me for a long moment, and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and Carter's weight. I had no idea when Carter would wake up, but I hoped it wasn't soon. More than anything, I didn't want him to witness what was about to happen. I also hoped he didn't need immediate medical care. His breathing and heartbeat seemed regular, but I was unsure about the combined effects of
two
Thought Movers.

“I don't,” Senator Astor finally replied. “Not really. You'd be a valuable asset, even more than I realized. The offer still stands for you to join us…though somehow, I don't think you will.” I shook my head. “See, I knew that. And you're not the only asset I'd like to acquire. You're holding another one in front of you like a shield right now.”

My fear for Carter increased tenfold. “What do you want with him?! How can you think of him as…as an
object
like that?”

“You're so young, Lainey,” the senator said, leaning casually onto the wall next to him, though his gun hand remained poised. Not that I was going anywhere. “When you're older, and you understand ambition, you'll understand how people, even people you love, can be tools you can use to further your purposes.” He paused and tilted his head. “Yes, I love Cartwright. Of course I do. He's my only nephew. You look as if you don't believe me, but it's true.”

Even with his assurances, I still didn't believe him. I didn't think he was capable of love. No one who knew how to love could do the horrible things I knew he'd done.
This,
I thought.
This
is what happens when you want things and take them, no matter what.

I stared back at him before saying softly, “I guess you didn't love him enough to spare his father.”

If I was hoping to take Senator Astor by surprise with that comment, I failed. He didn't even blink. In fact, he gave a small smile, which made my already nervous stomach clench even further in revulsion. “Your abilities must be truly astounding. But you don't understand much about
living
people. You're wrong. I did spare his father. From an already miserable existence, and from himself. And it's because I love Carter as if he were
my
own son that I did what had to be done. I spared Carter from the burden of a father who'd never get over the death of his wife nor amount to anything more than a simple bookseller—”

“That's it?!” I shouted at him. “You killed him because he was depressed? Because he wasn't
special
enough?” It made me sick to say it out loud. Tears began a slow path down my cheeks and I took one hand from where it had been gripping Carter's to swipe them away.

To my astonishment, Dan looked sad. “Of course not. You didn't let me finish. He insisted we had to tell the Council about his son's newly developed ability. He wasn't just afraid for him; he was afraid
of
him. I spared Carter from the father who'd
turn him in.”
The curious look returned to his face. “You really think I'd harm someone just because I could?”

“I think you'd do anything just because you could.”

He laughed. “There is so much you don't understand yet. I only wish I could convince you to work with me, but I've known since Carter told me you've chosen Boston that it's not what you want.”

“So that's why you want to kill me? Because you know I'll never work for the Perceptum? Or for you? But I'll never be able to do anything to…to…I don't know,
interfere
with you either.” As my hysteria mounted, my breathing grew ragged and harsh, but Senator Astor remained
as collected as ever. I understood why he was such an accomplished politician.

“But you
are
interfering. You'd be an incredible addition to the Perceptum, one we've been missing for far too long, but now you're a liability. A danger. If necessary, the Perceptum could be brought to a vote to eliminate you. I'm certain it would pass. But my nephew…” His eyes passed over Carter's slack body, and I tightened my arms around him in response. “Carter would never recover if the Council did that. He'd never work with the Council again. And with his devotion to you as it is, I don't believe he'll come work for
me
either, not now, when I need him most. He'd follow you to the ends of the Earth first. Your tragic accident will eliminate that problem, and give him a reason to need an escape from his comfortable life here at the Academy. For what it's worth, I'm sorry Lainey. But this is how it will have to be.” He stood straight once again and gestured with the gun. “Stand please. Move away from Carter. Over to where you were.”

I was crying in earnest now, but I did what I was told. If he was going to shoot me, I couldn't bear the idea that Carter might be in the way. I also wasn't opposed to begging. “Please don't do this,” I pleaded. I stopped short of promising to help him. That I couldn't do, but I had one more desperate card I was willing to play. “Carter's going to figure out that you always seem to be there when he loses someone he loves. Or Melinda will see the pattern. It will change you, too, you know, if you shoot me. Any other Grim Diviner will be able to see what you are—a
murderer.”

“I don't think anyone's gift will save you,” he said, shaking his head. “And I don't plan to be here for long, nor officially arrive until long after your accident is discovered. But you know that. Now, tell me one more thing. I promise this will be quick and painless.”

“Okay.” Honestly, I was going to die. What was the point in being stubborn?

“How are you resisting me?”

That confused me. “I'm not.” And I wasn't. I looked around. I was standing where he'd gestured, defenseless and waiting for him to take aim at me. I wasn't doing anything besides praying to God or whoever was out there that I still might live, somehow.

“You are,” he insisted. “I've tried countless times to
Move
your thoughts with no effect. Can you use your gift to stop thoughts of your own, like you did on Carter?”

“No.” I knew without a doubt I couldn't use my own gifts on myself. How many times had I tried to bring up a vision to clarify my impending death? It never worked.

He looked at me hard, an angry twist to his mouth. I flinched, ready to duck, or leap over the counter behind me—anything to keep from being shot. But instead of shooting me, he said, “I think you're telling the truth.”

“I am. I don't know how I'm resisting you. That's the truth. Whatever it is, I'm not doing it intentionally.”

“You truly are exceptional, Lainey. I'm sorry to lose you.” The scholar in him came out. “It happens sometimes,” he mused, “that some Sententia are naturally resistant to others' gifts. My father is the only other person I've known who could…” A shocked expression came over his face, and I knew he'd figured out my other secret. And I finally understood why he hadn't used his gift on me. He really couldn't. Because we were family. He actually faltered, his gun arm drooping an inch as he stared at me.

“Who are you?” he said, slowly and carefully enunciating each word.

I couldn't look at him, I hated what I had to say so much now. “I'm your niece,” I whispered, staring down at the floor. I looked back up at him. “Now will you please not kill me?”

“How.” That was all he said. It came out like a command, not a question.

“My father was your brother. Half-brother. Your father must have been his father.”

“My father…” he started, then trailed off. “How do you know this?” he demanded.

“You look just like him. My dad, I mean. No one knows, officially, who his father was—he was adopted—but it's pretty obvious now.”

Dan was looking in my direction but his eyes were blank, as if he wasn't really seeing what was around him anymore. I contemplated running for the door—it was only a few steps—but before I could move, his focus snapped back to me and the gun returned to position. “Your eyes,” he said, and I knew what he meant. Though our likeness wasn't striking, I'd inherited most notably the
shape
of my father's eyes. Same as Daniel Astor's. “The last Marwood is my niece,” he went on. “My niece. God, it makes so much sense now, Tessa's comments about resemblance. My nephew is in love with my niece, and I am about to…” he trailed off again. “Of all your considerable secrets,
that
is the one you were going to take to your grave? Why wouldn't you have told me?”

“I hate everything about you. I didn't want you to know. And I thought you'd just get me to tell you anyway, but I guess you can't.”

“No, I can't,” he mused, and I swear to you, tears shimmered in his eyes. “You have no idea how much I regret that. I was wrong before. You are beyond exceptional, Lainey.
You're
my heir. And now…”

And that was when Carter moved.

It was just a small movement, along with a sound, like a tiny grunt, but it was enough to save me. I froze. Dan froze.

I think he could still have done it, if he really wanted to. Carter's breathing had changed, become stronger the way a person's sometimes
does when they're about to wake up from a bad dream, but for the moment he was still unconscious.

And of course, the bad dream was standing in front of me. I braced myself, but my uncle didn't shoot. Instead, he stared at me, considering. With matching eyes, I stared back.

“Perhaps,” Dan said, “a third option has presented itself.” He told me what he wanted me to do, knowing I would do it. When the other choice was death, what choice did I really have?

Though something inside me broke, I nodded, whispering, “Okay.”

Dan inclined his head. “Thank you,” he said and that was that. He turned to go.

“Wait!”

He stopped, and I could see the hopefulness in the way he stood, in the way his eyes shined when he looked back at me.

“Tell me. What he was meant to remember.”

With a rueful smile, he did. It was a good story. Perfect, in fact. No one would have questioned it.

When he finished, Senator Astor placed the gun back where it had fallen and left out the same door by which he'd entered. It closed just as quietly as when he'd arrived.

I crumpled to my knees and sobbed until Carter woke up.

Chapter Twenty-Six

A
fog.

That's what the rest of that day, and the next day, and possibly the rest of my life felt like. I was present. I smiled and spoke when spoken to. I took pictures and gave hugs and even, occasionally, laughed. But it was through a wall of gray that I did it all, behind which the real me watched my world fall apart and keep going all at the same time.

I honestly wasn't sure how I survived those days. Maybe all of me didn't. I'd cheated death once only to die slowly in a different way. Little pieces of the girl in the fog disintegrated, until I thought all I would ever be again was an appearance. A pretty outward shell filled with cold, gray nothing. What happened at the shooting range began to seem easy.

On the floor of the private gallery, I told Carter a story. A simple, perfect story that was almost true. I'm so clumsy, I told him. I dropped a bullet. It rolled away. You stepped backwards on it and fell. You hit your head. I was so scared.

I didn't tell him I'd nearly died. I didn't have to. He'd never know. He had no memory of what really happened. In my pocket, I'd hastily
stuffed the piece of my hair he'd never know was gone. There was a new bullet hole in the range wall, but it was far from the first. No one would think anything of it, including Carter. He had no recollection of the single round he'd saved and fired at me.

It wasn't until much later I realized the gun Senator Astor had threatened me with was empty.

G
RADUATION WAS BITTERSWEET.
Unlike the sheer perfection of the day before, it was cloudy. Overcast, but not raining, and not hot as I sat near the end of the last row of the sea of polyester gowns on the soccer field. Even Northbrook couldn't improve graduation-wear, though I supposed the slick, shiny robes were a rite of passage and one I was distantly thrilled to pass. They were white, all of them white, like a hundred excited ghosts fidgeting in folding chairs.

Outward me cheered when they announced the Valedictorian and Amy took the stage. For the first time since almost the beginning of the year, she looked like herself. The real Amy. From his spot in front of me, I could see Caleb looking up at the girl he knew he loved without any unnatural influence. A few life-altering secrets went a long way toward smoothing things out between them. Inward me suppressed a pang of envy.

Amy's speech was everything I knew her to be: funny, intelligent, impassioned.

“Learning,” she said. “We did a lot of that here. A
lot.
Right?” We all cheered, or booed, or whistled. “And it was good for us! We're wicked smart kids and we're going to do great things.” She pronounced
wicked smaht
with her best Boston accent and everyone laughed. “I know we are, because Northbrook prepared us to. From up here, I'm looking at future doctors, and business owners, scientists and teachers. There's at least one future international rock star, and probably a few congresswomen and senators. I
might
even be looking
at a future President of the United States”—cheers for the surprise guest, Senator Astor—“or maybe even two. How many people are lucky enough to say they sat next to a senator in detention? Well, at least one hundred and thirty two of you. Not that
I've
ever been in detention, of course.

“Do that thing,” she instructed us, “that we're all going to do again in a few weeks, at orientation or basic training or any of the opportunities you're about to start. Look at the person to your left and right. In college, they're going to tell you one of those people won't be there in four years. It's supposed to scare you into working hard. But you know what?
Both
of those people you just looked at are
graduating right now,
and if we made it through here, we've got
nothing
to worry about next! We'll be out
kicking ass
in our new lives!

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