Imitation (29 page)

I am supposed to be in bed, appearing
asleep should anyone check, but I cannot still my bare feet from
their pacing.

I have an address.

I don’t know if Melanie was telling
the truth or if it’s a trap. I am choosing to believe the former
since she’s allowing herself to be captured and from this moment
on, her life is essentially in our hands. Before leaving me alone,
Linc assured me we will go together in the morning to the address
she’s given. I don’t want to wait even that long, but we have no
choice. There won’t be a chance before then, not with all of the
excitement unfolding as a result of her capture.

I have no idea what I will tell Titus
to get away long enough to check it out, but I can’t focus to think
of anything. I am too distracted by what Melanie said—and
everything it could mean.

My thoughts are disjointed,
incomplete. I am human. Somewhere in the city, she has a warehouse
full of Imitations. All of them have found a way to disable or
remove their kill switch. I am human. She was helping Anna. And
others like us. If she is telling the truth, there is scientific
data suggesting I am just as much human as someone womb-born. I am
human.

Someone knocks and I jump and then
freeze in place. A security guard sticks his head in. “Miss Rogen.”
He looks surprised I am awake.

“
I heard noises,” I
explain. “Is everything all right?”

“
Everything’s fine. I need
you to stay in your room until I come back.”

I assure him I will—not that my
assurance is needed when the door locks from the outside—and he
leaves without another word. I resume pacing. A few minutes later,
the alarm ceases and the house is silent.

I am human.

An hour later, Linc returns. “Where is
she?” I whisper as he closes the door behind him.

“
She’s downstairs,” he
says, his voice giving away exhaustion.

“
And Titus?”

“
Already interrogating
her.”

“
Do you think she’ll
talk?”

“
I don’t know. Titus will
be ruthless.”

“
If they’re where she
said, we’ll have to move them. If he finds them, he’ll kill them
all.” He nods. I know he’s already thought of this. “You don’t have
to help me,” I add.

He frowns. “I’m not letting you do
this alone.”

“
Linc ... maybe you
should.” His brows knit in confusion, but I press on. It needs to
be said. “Whatever is at that address is my problem. But it doesn’t
have to be yours. The risk you’re taking—”

“
Is mine to take,” he
interrupts. “I meant what I said about not letting you do this
alone.”

“
If Titus finds out you’re
involved, he’ll kill you.”

“
He could try,” he says
fiercely.

“
He might kill you
anyway.”

“
Why would he do
that?”

My heart beats erratically against my
chest but I say the thing I’m scared to say. “Because he knows I’m
in love with you.”

I wait for his expression to change,
for dismay or anxiety or something like it to sweep his features at
the thought of what Titus could do to him for this, but instead a
slow smile creeps across his mouth and he steps closer so that our
faces are almost touching. His hands cup my hips. “Say it again,”
he whispers.

“
Titus might
kill—”

“
Not that part. The other
thing.”

For some reason, I feel incredibly
shy. I force myself to look at him and slowly, I repeat the words.
“I love you.”

He presses his lips to my cheek.
“Again.”

“
I love you,” I say with
more confidence.

He lifts his lips from my cheek,
presses them to my neck. “Again.”

I’m smiling now. “I love
you.”

He continues to press kisses to my
jawline, slowly making his way to my mouth. I say it three more
times before our lips finally meet. I can tell by the shape of his
mouth as it finds mine that he is smiling too. The kiss is a tangle
of lips and fingertips and arms and parallel friction. I am
breathless and tingling when he pulls his mouth far enough from
mine to whisper, “I love you too, Ven.”

Joy, bigger than anything I’ve ever
experienced, surges into my chest. It is a feeling so solid, it
seems touchable. If this is what it’s like to be human … and then I
realize—this is what it’s like to be me.

Ven. An Imitation in love. How is this
possible?

Linc catches sight of my expression
and his head tilts. “You look so far away. What are you
thinking?”

“
That this is the happiest
I’ve ever been and …” I stare at my gauzy curtains without really
seeing them.

“
And?” he
prompts.

I almost don’t finish. I am too afraid
it will ruin the moment. But his earnest curiosity is too much. I
tell the truth. “I don’t want you to think I’m not capable of
loving you as much as you love me just because I’m not
human.”

He growls, a sound that’s
become familiar from him. Especially anytime we discuss this
particular subject. “You
are
human, Ven. You heard what Melanie
said.”

“
I don’t trust
Melanie.”

“
Do you trust
yourself?”

I pause. “Yes.”

“
So do I. And I can see it
inside you, shining through like a beacon, drawing me closer and
closer. It’s what keeps me tied to you.”

“
What does?”

“
Your
humanity.”

I open my mouth to respond but he
holds his finger to my lips and continues. “Melanie was right about
one thing. No one else gets to make you feel like less because of
how you were born. It’s the same in my world, only they use money,
instead of science, as the measuring stick. Either way, who you are
at birth shouldn’t define you. We make our own destiny.”

Again, I open my mouth to respond, but
he shushes me a second time. His voice rises with conviction. “We
choose who we are. And who we’ll be. Not them.”

I shove his hand aside. “Are you done
yet?”

His shoulders sag. “Yes.”

“
Good, because that was
absolutely inspiring as pep talks go. And you should quit while
you’re ahead.”

The corners of his lips twitch. “I’m
glad you liked it.”

“
You had me at
humanity.”

His smile widens and then quickly
falls away, replaced by a serious determination. “We’re going to
find them, Ven. And we’re going to change things. For them. For
you.”

“
You believe that?” I
whisper because saying it out loud makes the whole thing sound
scary in a possible sort of way.

“
I do.”

“
How? How can you just
believe it?”

“
Easy. Because I believe
in you.”

Without hesitation, I throw my arms
around him and hold on tight. He stumbles back half a step, off
balance from my unexpected display. Then he rights himself and his
arms wrap around me too. “What’s this for?” he asks against my
hair.

“
For not being
less.”

Sharp drafts of wind cut through my
hair and sneak into my helmet, caressing my cheeks like whispering
fingertips. The sun is shining, sending a swath of light between
the skyscrapers that cast shadows along either side of the street.
Despite the bite in the air, I’m warm inside my jacket. Between my
thighs, the motorcycle thrums as we accelerate out of traffic. Any
other day, the experience of riding with Linc would be thrilling.
Today, it is impossible to enjoy.

The anxious thumping against my chest
threatens to drown out the hum of the motorcycle’s engine. Not for
what I’ve left behind—Titus was distracted enough by his newest
prisoner to let me go without much explanation this morning—but for
what we’re headed toward. I have no idea what we’ll find at the
address Melanie has given, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m
heading into something that will be impossible to walk away
from.

Red brake lights dot the road ahead,
but Linc barely slows as he darts around bumpers and weaves between
commuters. I am anonymous behind my helmet but I stare back at the
curious drivers who scowl as we speed past. In no time, we navigate
through the congestion and break free onto the roads that lead to
the outskirts. These streets are far less traveled. I’m not sure if
it’s because so few people here own cars or that anyone who does
can afford to work uptown.

We slow for a right turn. The street
sign is chipped and weathered, barely hanging on to its steel
frame. I can just make out letters that spell “Waverly” before it’s
lost behind me. These buildings are long and squat, three stories
at most. None of them display numbers so we do a lap and circle
back.

Linc slows and raises his visor. “You
see it?”

“
No.”

He angles toward the shoulder and
pulls to a stop. I slide off and remove my helmet, shaking my hair
free. Beside me, Linc removes his own helmet and stares up and down
the street, frowning.

“
What?” I ask.

“
It’s … empty.”

He’s right. Not a single vehicle—not
even foot traffic penetrates from the main road we left a block
away. The quiet is eerie. The stillness suggests …
purpose.

“
Do you think—?” My words
are cut off by a scraping noise. I whip around but there is nothing
there. I stare at a corner of the building I can’t see
around.

The scraping comes again, like feet
dragging. A face appears at the very edge of the wall, two eyes
peering at us from around the corner. I go still. Slowly, the face
emerges far enough that I can make it out. “Anna.”

Linc and I share a look. We are
here.

“
Anna,” I call again,
louder.

She steps clear of the corner and
waits there. The minute I move toward her, Linc’s hand is on my
wrist pulling me back. “Wait.”

“
Linc, it’s her. Melanie
was telling the truth.”

“
We don’t know what we’re
walking into.”

I don’t want to admit I shared his
sentiment only moments ago. Instead, I stick out my chin,
determined that he is wrong. This is safe. I am supposed to be
here. “I know Anna. She won’t hurt me.”

He scowls and slides his hand down
until it joins mine. I hold fast. Together, we walk forward. Anna
watches us from the shadows, her eyes darting in every direction as
we approach. I can feel the tension in Linc as he squeezes my hand.
I force mine to remain relaxed—a sign of my own certainty, though
I’m not certain at all. Not with Anna biting her lip and looking
for trouble behind my left shoulder.

“
I’m glad to see you
again,” I tell her with forced cheeriness.

At my words, the lines in her forehead
smooth over and her shoulders relax. “Same,” she says. “I wasn’t
sure Melanie would come through. Well, we can’t stay out here. Come
on.”

We follow her into the alley. Shadows
grow and then cross, throwing everything into what feels like murky
twilight though it’s not yet noon. We pass a set of Dumpsters that
leave a stench in their wake. My nose wrinkles.

Empty crates and debris litter the
walkway. I step over several until I’m forced to go around a larger
set. The scraping sound from earlier comes again. I jerk my head
toward it so fast, I almost trip. With Linc’s help, I steady myself
and catch up to Anna who waits in an open doorway. The metal frame
has a thick coating of rust. It flakes off in tiny slivers, golden
dust motes in the rotten air.

“
Ven,” Linc murmurs, the
single word packed full of wariness.

“
I know,” I say as we walk
forward.

Warm, stuffy air hits me the moment I
cross the threshold. The scraping comes again as the door slides
closed. Anna leans on it, shoving with her entire body. She grunts
and heaves until the latch clicks shut. Then she slides a giant
deadbolt into place.

We’re sealed in.

I try not to think of it that way. I
know Linc could open it if need be. But there’s no way we could
exit in a hurry. I don’t allow myself to imagine possible reasons
for a quick exit.

“
This way,” Anna
says.

Linc blocks her path before she can
move. “No way. We’re not going any farther until you give us some
answers.”

“
Melanie should’ve—” Anna
begins, but Linc cuts her off.

“
Melanie’s a liar. We want
the truth.”

Anna’s expression tightens but she
nods. “I understand your concern. Melanie can be … self-involved.
I’ll explain everything. Answer all of your questions. But first, I
want you to meet someone.”

Linc’s voice is a few inches lighter
when he asks, “Who?”

“
His name’s Morton. He’s
been out of the City longer than anyone. Whatever questions you’ve
got, he’s the one with the answers.” She shrugs. “I’m just a
guest.”