The Conspiracy of Us (21 page)

W
hat are you doing here?” I demanded. It came out part angry, part relieved, a lot worried.

He scrambled to his feet. “Please let me explain.”

“Coming to my
room
in the middle of the
night
? Are you crazy?” I whispered, pointing at the bedroom door and putting my finger to my lips. I kicked off my shoes and climbed out the window onto the thin balcony. I refused Jack's hand when he held it out to help, and I eased the window closed behind me.

I stared him down. “Why did you lie to me?” The breeze flapped my dress.

“Avery, I'm so sorry.” And he looked it. He looked as broken as I felt, from his pleading eyes to the loose bow tie around his neck, obviously forgotten. “I was wrong. I was going to tell you, so many times.”

“How long have you known?”

I could tell he wanted to avert his eyes, but he didn't. “Since Prada. It's not exactly that you look like him, but I could see it, once I realized your father had to be one of the twelve.”

I swallowed. “So you and the Saxons were just stringing me along that whole time? Why?”

“He didn't know until tonight.”

“What?” I looked up, my eyes swimming.

“He found out at the ball, and it wasn't me who told him,” Jack went on. “Lydia figured it out. She recognized you somehow.”

Just like I'd recognized her. She looked like my
sister.
I still hadn't processed that.

I crossed to the railing. Even though the museum was long closed, people still milled around the square below, taking photos of the pyramid gleaming against the softer lights on the Louvre's stone facade.

“It was never my intention to hurt you,” Jack said quietly. “Trust me on that.”

“I
can't
!” I whirled around. “That's the point. I can't trust you. You knew how much this meant to me, and you lied over and over about having no idea who he was.”

He paced a few steps down the balcony. “I didn't tell you because I wanted to know what Fitz meant before I let you walk into something dangerous. Or because you might run. Or . . . I don't know. I should have told you.” His dark hair flopped onto his forehead, like even it felt defeated. “I thought it would be better for everyone if I told you when you were in the same place and let you approach him yourself. We were so busy, the ball was the first opportunity.”

That was what he'd been about to say before Lydia interrupted us, I realized. “And what if I hadn't wanted to talk to him?”

“I was going to let you leave.”

“You would have let me get away again? They'd kill you for that. Especially if they found out you knew who I really was,” I said, half jokingly, looking at the spot on his arm where I knew his tattoo was. Beautiful. Deadly.

“I know,” he said, not jokingly at all.

I leaned on the railing, not sure whether he was making me feel better or worse. “You can't say things like this, then do something completely different and expect me to believe you. To
trust
you.”

If I shattered one more time, I might not be able to put the pieces back together.

“I know. I'm sorry,” Jack said again, quietly. “That's what I came here to say.” He reached into the breast pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope with my name on it. “Saxon wrote you this. It was my excuse for coming to see you.”

Avery,

I understand this is a shock. It is one for me, too, but a welcome one. I wish I could speak with you tonight, but I think it's best not to arouse unnecessary suspicion. I'll come get you in the morning. Security at the Dauphins' is tight—you'll be safe.

Best, Alistair Saxon

I read the note again. “So does he want to marry me off to somebody in the morning?”

Jack shook his head. “He doesn't know about the purple eyes. I should have told him, but I wanted you to at least be able to do
that
yourself.”

I held the note so hard, it crumpled between my fingers. I turned back to Jack, who was rubbing the back of his neck uneasily.

“Why couldn't you have told me?” I said again. My voice cracked.

The confusion, the uncertainty, the relief still flowing through me at seeing Jack. The euphoric jump in my heart knowing that my father
did
care. The sound of the killer's head hitting the floor at Prada. The last thing I said to my mom—a lie about how I'd stay home from prom and pack.

I was falling. Falling, falling, falling. I clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob that escaped anyway.

Jack's jaw clenched, and he crossed the balcony in one stride.

He folded me into his arms.

I pushed him away, but he didn't let me. He tucked me under his chin and wrapped his arms around me tight. And then I crumbled. I clung to him with everything I had, handfuls of his shirt balled up in my fists, sobbing the huge, choking sobs I'd been holding back for days.

It felt like the tears would never stop.

Jack held me close, and I felt his heart beat and his chest rise and fall under my cheek, and breathed in the inexplicable, musky sweetness of his skin—apples, I decided through the haze of tears. He smelled like fall, like autumn sun and ripe apples. Finally, I felt my shoulders relax and the sobs taper off.

I nuzzled my head into his chest and he tangled his fingers in my hair. “Sorry,” I whispered, but that wasn't the right thing to say. “Thanks,” I said, but that wasn't quite right either. I pulled away an inch and stared at his chest, where my tears had left a wet, mascarasmeared blotch.

“I can't betray the Saxons and the Circle,” he murmured into the top of my head. “But I can't—I won't—betray you, either. I promise.”

Hearing him say it felt like standing on the edge of a threshold we'd been dancing around since we met.

“Are those two things mutually exclusive?” I whispered.

“I hope not,” he said. “I don't think so.”

I didn't want to want him. I didn't want to wish I could run my fingers through his hair again, to touch a new cut on his cheek. I didn't want to forgive him, but I did want to, so badly.

“You didn't leave me,” I said. I ran a fingertip around a button on his shirt, not meeting his eyes. “You didn't leave me and save yourself on Mr. Emerson's balcony. You didn't turn me in to make things easier. You didn't leave me alone tonight, even though you knew I'd be mad at you.” I swallowed back a lump in my throat.

His fingers paused in stroking my hair. “Of course I didn't.”

However misguided it was, Jack had done what he'd done to protect me. How was it possible that in a tug-of-war for his loyalty between the Saxons—his only family for years—and me, I was winning?

I finally disentangled myself from his arms. My hands lingered under his tuxedo jacket, palms grazing down his sides, his starched white shirt crinkling under my fingertips.

He drew in a sharp breath that sent a flutter through me. His gaze skimmed the curves of my silver Prada dress. It really was the color of his eyes. Moonlight and storms.

I pulled my hands away and sat cross-legged, my dress spread out around me on the balcony. I wiped my cheeks with the heels of my hands, and the quickening breeze dried them the rest of the way. The storm really seemed to be moving in now. Jack slipped out of his tuxedo jacket and draped it around my shoulders before he sat down, too.

“Did you tell my—Saxon about anything else? Mr. Emerson or the clues or anything?”

“I told him about Fitz being gone, but that's all for now. He's agreed to get someone in intelligence asking around right away. We can get him looking for your mom, too, if you're still not able to reach her.”

A weight lifted off my chest. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower's hourly golden light show twinkled again against the clouds.

“Am I like him?” The words came out before I realized I was thinking them.

Jack kicked a pebble with the toe of his boot. “If anything, it's like two sides of the same coin,” he said. “You both have this sparkle in your eyes. But his is . . . I don't know. Darker? Yours is light.”

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. “Cheesy lines aren't going to make me forget I was mad at you.”

“I'm not trying—”

“It's okay,” I said.

I wondered if Jack meant it when he said kissing had made things worse. Or whether he
had
meant it, but what he'd said and done tonight meant he didn't care. Or whether he was here to be a good friend and that was all. I wondered if he was thinking about my hands on him as much as I was thinking about his hands on me.

Jack cleared his throat. “My second day in Lakehaven,” he said. “It was a Monday.”

Lightning lit the whole sky to daylight. I looked up at him expectantly, but he kept his eyes on the skyline.

“That was when I stopped watching you just because it was my job,” he said.

I dug my nails into my palms. I guess I had my answer.

“The Saxons don't always pick me to go on recon missions like this, but they needed someone who would fit in at a school. I had this picture of you, and I thought it might be hard to find you, but the whole school was walking in one direction, and there you were, walking the other way, all by yourself, to sit outside and read. You fascinated me.”

I stared at him. “Because I didn't have friends to sit with at lunch?”

His mouth crooked up. “Everyone with the Circle . . . they do what they're told.
I
do what I'm told. I know it probably sounds mad to you, but I'd never thought of doing anything else. And there you were, doing what you wanted.”

I pulled my knees to my chest and tucked the dress around me, repositioning everything that had happened at school in my head in light of what he was saying.

Jack pulled the tie from around his neck and rolled it into a tight spiral. “I was supposed to find out whether you were a family member after all, then bring you in immediately, but I didn't. I liked it, going to classes, getting to know you. I knew it would stop the second we got back to the Saxons, back to real life, but it was worth it for the short amount of time I was there.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was completely irresponsible of me, but I was already planning to ask you to the prom, even before Stellan showed up.”

I couldn't stop the smile that came over my face.

“And then through all of this, you've made me question everything I knew. You've been putting yourself in danger at every turn, not because you were told, but for somebody you loved, because you believed it was right.” He paused, flicking the end of the tie with his thumb. “You know how the tattoos are an oath to be loyal to the family?”

I nodded. “To the death,” I said. How could I forget?

Jack gave a small nod and touched his forearm. “I've never even considered breaking that oath before. Ever. But I did, for you. To keep you safe. Everything—from letting you go at prom, to tonight, at the ball—it's all been for you. As much as I tried to tell myself it was for the Saxons, it wasn't true. As much as I said I was going to Istanbul just for Fitz, it wasn't true. Every second I wasn't with you, I was thinking about you. Worrying about you. It wasn't for them.” He cut his eyes to me, lowered his voice. “It was all for you.”

All of a sudden, even with the breeze, it felt too hot out here. I pressed my palms to the cool tiles.

“Why didn't you tell me any of this before?” I whispered. The whole world had faded away to nothing but the two of us, and the storm, and everything I thought I knew, smashing into pieces again. “I'm sure it was obvious how I felt. How I feel.”

My face got even hotter, and I was glad it was dark.

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “No, I . . . I mean, after I kissed you, and you let me, I thought, maybe . . . I wasn't sure.”

A laugh bubbled up, like champagne bubbles pushing past the ache in my chest.

“I told myself you couldn't possibly feel the same way. I'm only a Keeper. Even if you were just a
cousin,
it would've been impossible, and once we realized what you really are . . .”

He trailed off. I thought about the Emirs' Keeper, terminated when he was caught having a relationship with a family member.

I leaned my head back against the wall. My own father wouldn't be so harsh, would he? And anyway, we could keep a secret. So maybe if we started something now, we'd have to stop it later to not get found out. I could deal with that when and if it happened. The stakes were bigger for Jack, and I didn't want to put him in danger, but I was pretty sure he felt the same way I did. Some things were just worth the risk.

And suddenly, at least for the moment, I knew what I was longing for. I'd understand if he refused, but I had to say it.

“I want you to stay,” I blurted out.

At the exact time, he said, “Is it okay if I stay?”

“I don't want to be alone, and we could be really careful and no one would know—”

“I don't want to leave you alone. Anything could happen—”

“Right,” I said, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't believe I'd said that. I couldn't believe it had worked. I stood up. “Yeah. Um. Come in.”

Jack's face fell. “I . . .” He shook his head. “I can't risk getting caught in your room.”

“Oh.” I tried not to look as horribly disappointed as I felt. Of course he just meant staying here to guard me. Nothing more. Of course it was too dangerous. My judgment was clouded.

And then the crackling air burst open. Lightning tore apart the sky, and the clouds that had been threatening all day ripped apart.

I scrambled back through the window, dashing rain out of my eyes. Jack leapt to standing.

“You can come in,” I whispered. “It's only us in here.”