Blacklisted (4 page)

“What?”

“The napkin.”

He didn't reply.

His silence hurt. Would it have killed him to apologize? To explain?

I kept my eyes closed and my head against the seat rest. A little while later, the whoosh of fabric cut into my thoughts, and then I felt something cool pressing against my arm.

My eyelids sprang apart and I gasped. Erik was leaning toward me, doing something to my wound. “Stop that,” I commanded. “Whatever you're doing, stop.”

“It needs to be done,” he said flatly. “You're still bleeding.”

He had taken off his shirt—and was bare from the waist up—to apply pressure to the injury. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to enjoy the sight of his tanned skin, hard muscles, and a black cat tattooed on his roped stomach. As it was, I would have rather been lying on a gurney, an IV in my vein.

“Are we going to the hospital?” I asked hopefully.

“Hell no.” He scowled at me. “Do you have any idea what you've done? Do you have any idea what you could have ruined?”

His face was red with anger, his eyes bright with fury. I didn't know what I could have ruined, no, but I knew I didn't like being the target of that gaze. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean—”

“‘Sorry' doesn't fix the damage you've caused. I was
this
close. This close to success, and in less than two minutes you managed to destroy all my work, making these last few months a waste.”

Rather than shrink from this conflict, my normal defenses fell away and I snapped, “I'm dying, and you're yelling at me? I said I was sorry, okay? You're the one to blame here anyway. If you hadn't given me that napkin, I wouldn't have followed you.”

A moment passed in silence while he ground his teeth together. Then he pierced me with a fierce stare. “One, you're not dying. You'll live. Two, once again, your ‘sorry' doesn't mean shit. But it's not entirely your fault that tonight happened the way it did,” he conceded. “My past finally caught up with me and things would have gone badly with or without your interference.”

That mollified me, but only slightly.

“Having said that, however,” he added, a steely edge to the words, “I'll tell you point three. Even if I'd given you a bag of dog shit, you should have stayed at your table. You almost blew my cover with—” He stopped himself. Frowned. “Never mind.”

I blinked in surprise. “Your cover? What, you're undercover? You're a cop?”

He tangled a hand through his hair, muttering, “You wish.”

“You're what, then?”

“Just drop it, Camille.”

It was the first time he'd said my name. I shivered at the sound of it on his lips. “Are you A.I.R.?” It was the only other agency I could think of, and since they specialized in Outers and the Morevv had been there…

Erik snorted. “I'm A.I.R.'s worst nightmare, sweetheart—and now I'm yours.”

I took a moment to digest his words.

“Ni—nightmare?” I sputtered. There was an unholy gleam in Erik's eyes, darkening the brown irises to a frightening, ominous black. He didn't look like an innocent teenager just then. He didn't look like the boy I'd crushed on for months. No, he looked mean and hard and capable of any evil deed.

A shiver moved through me, and this one wasn't pleasant like before.

“I—I don't understand,” I managed to say.

“You don't need to understand,” he said darkly. “All you need to know is that I've done bad things, and I'll continue to do bad things to meet my goal.”

Tendrils of surprise blended with my fright. Was he threatening me? A cold chill swept through me. “I don't understand,” I repeated stupidly. Surely I was mishearing, I thought, as the car hit a bump, jolting me up. I gripped my arm, trying to protect it from the stinging aftereffects.

“Like I said, I wouldn't worry about understanding. I'd worry about staying alive.” He turned away from me, then, and faced the front window.

“You're just trying to scare me.”

“There were A.I.R. agents in there, Camille. Remember the group of tough-looking girls?” He didn't wait for my answer. “They're after me.”

“After you for what?”

“They're determined to catch me,” he continued as if I hadn't spoken, “and they saw me give you that napkin. They had to wonder what was on it. A code? Information? Unless every single one of them is blind, they saw you follow me afterward. They probably think we planned the meeting and now assume you're involved with me. A.I.R. is going to be after you, as well.”

A.I.R. agents. The media was fond of calling them the most feared people on the planet, saying they killed predatory aliens without thought. Without concern. Without remorse. And without a trial.

I pictured the girls, the hard gleams in their watchful eyes, the way they'd stood out, unconcerned with everything around them. The way I'd been singled out by the gorgeous Asian. Yeah, I could easily imagine her as a killer.

Don't worry. You didn't do anything wrong
. “I'm innocent,” I told Erik, my voice trembling. “And neither one of us is an alien. A.I.R. won't care what we did.”

“They don't just hunt aliens. They hunt humans who help aliens commit crimes.”

“But I didn't help anyone commit a crime, alien or not.”

Erik just flicked me another of those hard glances.

I blinked in shock. “
You
helped an alien commit a crime?”

“Yes.”

“And then they saw me follow you with that stupid napkin,” I said weakly, having trouble catching my breath. “So they think…they assume…” Oh, sweet baby Jesus, as Shanel would say.

“Yes,” he said again. “They think. They assume.”

“How could you have done that to me?” I gasped out.

He shrugged. “I wanted them to go after you rather than me.”

My shock doubled. “What?”

“They would have caught you, interrogated you, found the note blank and you as innocent as you appear, and then they would have let you go. Knowing me as they do, they would have figured out that I'd tricked them. But noooo. You had to follow me as if we'd planned it, making you look guilty as hell.”

“You…you…bastard!” What he'd described
did
make me look guilty of something.

“I do whatever I have to do.” Erik pinned me with his stare, holding me captive with its intensity. “Always.”

I thrust my chin forward in determination. “Well, I'm going to go to them and explain what happened.”

“Like they'll believe you now.”

“They will.”

“Whatever you say. I mean, you know how they operate, I'm sure.”

My stomach churned with nausea. “I'm still going to talk to them. I did nothing wrong.”

“You go to A.I.R. headquarters and you'll be beaten for information and locked away, just like me.”

“You're lying.”

“Only one way to find out, I guess.”

My nausea intensified.

He sighed. “What if they didn't get your name? What if you're in the clear? Still think it's wise to turn yourself in?”

I experienced a ray of hope. “No.”

“I didn't think so. Who knows? Because of this, you might even be able to wheedle a vacation out of Mommy and Daddy, hiding out just in case.”

My mouth dried. My parents. I couldn't tell them what I'd done, what had happened. I just couldn't. I'd have to admit that I'd lied and they would be disappointed in me.

I couldn't stand their disappointment.

I was their only child, their “precious baby.” I didn't want that to change. Really, one watery look from my mother and I'd want to cut out my heart. One “I thought I taught you better than this” from my dad and I'd sob.

“What if A.I.R.
does
know who I am?” I asked softly.

“They'll hunt you down, so be prepared. They'll interrogate you, asking you easy questions at first. Your name, your age. Then they'll get harder. What were you doing at the club? What did the napkin say? Why did you follow me? Have you ever dealt Onadyn and if so, who'd you get it from? Don't give them the answers they want and,” he shrugged, “you'll suffer.”

“Onadyn?” Feeling like I was falling deeper and deeper into a nightmare, I shook my head. Like vampires needed blood to survive, some aliens needed Onadyn. Without it…because of my dad, I'd seen pictures of an Outer who'd died from lack of Onadyn. The body had been contorted, the face so pain-filled it hurt me now even thinking of it.

Legally, humans were never supposed to touch the stuff. They used it to get high and often died from an overdose, so it was strictly regulated. Selling it was punishable with a life sentence.

“I have never, in all my life, even been around it!”

Erik ignored me, continuing, “They aren't bound by normal laws, so A.I.R. could even kill you if they wanted.”

“But why?” A sense of hysteria built inside of me and I straightened. Hunted, interrogated, maybe killed. Surely he was lying. Exaggerating, at the very least. I was innocent, damn it.

“You're now linked to me, Camille, and I'm a suspected Onadyn dealer.”

I wanted to block the words from my mind. I couldn't. They were too ominous. “But I did nothing wrong,” I insisted. How many times would I have to say and think it? “I
can't
be linked to that.”

“You knew the code that got you into the back of the Ship, something A.I.R. has to know is used for dealers.”

“No. No, no, no. They can't find me guilty.” I shook my head again, even though there were doubts in the back of my mind. “When I show them the napkin, they'll believe me.”

“Or they'll think you destroyed the original and replaced it with a blank one. You've had time.”

Damn him. I gripped my knees, nails digging into skin.

“I didn't ask you to follow me, Camille.”

“No, you just singled me out,” I said bitterly.

He flicked me a narrowed glance. “If there'd been another way…but I honestly expected you to leave the club. I expected you to be hauled in, questioned, and released.”

That didn't excuse his actions. “Why would you get involved with something like this?” I asked. “Why?”

“I don't have to explain myself to you.” His hands tightened into fists. “I hear the disgust in your voice. But guess what, Miss Innocent? Sometimes there are good reasons to do bad things.”

“My dad is a lawyer, and I've heard him talk about some of his cases. Everyone has a ‘good' reason for the bad things they do, but at the end of the day, other people get hurt because of those very things.”

“Don't preach to me. I'm past the point of caring.”

“After what you did to me, I'll preach to you if I feel like it.” The car hit another bump and my arm throbbed all the more. Tears again burned in my eyes. I gazed down at the wound. Blood had already soaked through Erik's soft T-shirt.

God, could this night get any worse?

Erik sighed, losing all hint of his anger. “We need to patch you up.”

“No. I just want to go home,” I said softly. “That's where we're headed right?” Please, please, please.

Wait
, I thought a split second later. If he took me home, my parents
would
find out I'd lied. There'd be no getting around it.

I could ask Erik to take me to Shanel's.

Nope. That wouldn't work, either.
She
was supposed to be staying with a friend, as well. Damn, damn, damn. What was I going to do?

A muscle ticked in Erik's jaw. “Drug dealer or not, I'm your only lifeline at the moment. I take you home now, and your wound will become infected. I doubt your parents know how to treat the damage a Lancer causes.”

Not home then. My stomach tightened with relief—and dread. “So…if you're not taking me home, where are you taking me?”

“My place.”

“No. No way.” I might have begun the night wanting to spend time with him. Now, however, I couldn't wait to get away from him.

“Where else do you want to go, huh? And don't say ‘hospital' again. Your parents will be notified and the doctors will ask you questions I don't want you to answer.”

No matter what, I didn't want my parents notified. Whatever I had to do to keep them in the dark, I'd do.

More lying?
I almost groaned. But if I had to, yeah. I'd lie some more. Worse than being disappointed in me, my parents would think
they
were at fault for my actions, wondering what they had done wrong, blaming themselves, moping. Just thinking about it made me hate myself.

I never should have left the house today.

Sometimes there are good reasons to do bad things
, Erik had said. His voice whispered through my mind and I cringed. Lying was not a good thing, but I had a good reason for doing it—or so I told myself.

Could I trust Erik not to hurt me, though?

Probably, I decided a moment later. Despite everything he'd admitted to doing, he
had
saved me from the Ell Rollises. He'd lied for me—another good reason for a bad thing. He'd helped me to the car. He'd given me the shirt off his back.

“Will your parents mind?” I asked.

He flicked me another one of those are-you-kidding-me glances. “I don't live with my parents. I live alone.”

“But how do you sup…port yourself?” I finished lamely. I could guess the answer: selling drugs.

“Not how you obviously think,” he muttered.

Then how? Something worse than Onadyn? I wanted to ask, but didn't. Maybe it was the loss of blood. Maybe it was the fact that I'd nearly been killed. But whatever the reason, a wave of sadness overshadowed my panic, my fear, and probably my common sense. How could I have been so wrong about Erik?

There were several Onadyn addicts at our school—and Erik probably sold to them. Those kids constantly fought; they constantly stole. A few had been expelled for giving blow jobs in the bathroom. Not just the girls, either.

“Not everyone has had your pampered life.” He radiated bitterness.

“You don't know anything about me.” Too weak to argue with him anymore, I turned toward the side window and stared out. The moon cast golden light over crumbling buildings and the occasional tree. Slashes of color were scattered throughout, people trekking along the sidewalks and through the night. Scary people. Weapons glinted from them and their teeth flashed in evil smiles.

This was not a nice neighborhood. Did Erik live in the area? I tried not to shudder.

“You never told me,” he said suddenly, cutting through the silence. “What did you do with the napkin?”

I didn't face him. “It's in my pocket.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Burn it when you get home.”

“Of course,” I lied. How many would I tell today? But no way would I burn that napkin. It was proof of my innocence. I hoped.

“I don't want them to use it against you,” he said, as if reading my mind.

Both of my eyebrows arched into my forehead. “How could they?”

“I'm sure they'd find a way. They always do.”

“You shouldn't have given it to me,” I snapped. “You've ignored me at school all year, and the one day you pay me any attention, you practically tie weights around my ankles and toss me into a pool of sharks.”

“I haven't always ignored you.” His voice was even, flat.