Mortal Danger (The Immortal Game) (12 page)

“I just want to say that I appreciate your apology … and I accept. So thanks.”

As I moved to step past her, she said, “I don’t know if I could be that forgiving.”

I’m not. It’s a long con.

But I couldn’t seem to write off what happened too fast. “Yeah, well. You weren’t the one who made all the plans. I mean, you could’ve stopped it, but I guess … it’s hard to speak up when all of your friends are involved.” That sounded like the right balance of repressed anger and blame.

She nodded. “That doesn’t make it okay. I should’ve gone to the headmaster or a teacher or something. I wish I had.”

Me too.

“Well, I’m gonna go. See you.”

The words seemed to slip out of her. “If you want, we could eat together.”

“Me, with your crowd? I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Plus, I wasn’t sure I could swallow a single bite at the same table with Cameron Dean. I needed time to get used to the new dynamic and to bolster my resolve.

“It doesn’t have to be with them. There are plenty of tables.”

“Are you sure they won’t see you as selling out to the enemy?” I asked.

She shrugged. “It’s the least I can do to make this up to you. They can get by without me. I just … I don’t want you to eat alone.”

I was sure I could join any table at this point and not be run off with torches and pitchforks, but Jennifer seemed to have some guilt to work out. Never let it be said that I refused to let a girl cleanse her conscience. If it made her feel better to see me as a pity project, I could work with that.

“Okay, let’s sit by the window.” Where everyone could see that Jennifer had taken my side over the Teflon crew.

This should be interesting.

I had only eaten a few bites when a shadow fell across our table. An upward glance identified Allison Vega: brown hair, streaked with copper; bronze skin; green eyes; curvy. Word was, her family had ties to the cartel. That was probably just WASP gossip, though. Rich white people tended to think that there was only one way a Colombian family could make money.

“Are you lost, Jen?” Allison demanded.

She shook her head. “I’m fine, thanks.”

The cafeteria denizens were riveted by this discussion, so I went on the offensive. Confrontation didn’t come easy to me, but I had been studying their techniques for the last three years.
Call me a method actor.

“Hey, Allie-cat. You’re looking healthy. Did you stop bingeing and purging over the summer?” I said it loud enough that more than a few people overheard it.

“Screw you,” she said, smiling.

“It’d be great if you could go. I’m talking to Jen. Thanks.” My tone was polite, framed with the saccharine smile that I’d seen Allison and Brittany unleash.

Allison stood for a few seconds, apparently unable to think of a response, then she whirled and went back to the Teflon circle. The people at neighboring tables snickered; they likely enjoyed seeing Allison dispatched with her own weapons. There was
definitely
satisfaction in it.

“Maybe I didn’t need to worry about you after all,” Jen said. “You’ve changed.”

I smiled faintly. “I’m aware.”

After that, my yogurt and salad went down better, since I’d passed the first hurdle. People knew I wasn’t the same perpetual victim I’d been last year, and things should get easier from here. I didn’t have a clear strategy for infiltration, but making friends with Jen was a good start. From watching other people try and fail, I understood that I couldn’t seem to care much about impressing them. They openly mocked those who tried too hard, which was why Davina wasn’t a full-fledged member after three years of orbiting their space.

The rest of the day was uneventful. I sat through my classes, listened, and took notes, while gossip washed around me. I could expect more of the same for a day or two, but eventually, they’d get bored with speculating just how much work I had done. I pretended I didn’t hear the whispers; it was simple from years of practice, and
now
they were saying nice things.

Assholes.

After school, I sighed at the guy who stopped at my locker and tried to ask me something about Lit class. Since Colin hadn’t assigned anything yet, it was a stupid plan for getting to know me better. I stared at him until he stuttered and backed away. For the first time, I glimpsed why Allison and Brittany acted the way they did. I couldn’t deny the faint rush of power that sprang from a single glance.

But I don’t want to be like them for real.

So I managed a smile. “I have to go. Maybe we’ll talk later.”

“Sure,” he said, seeming relieved.

Then I slipped past him, joining the throng heading for the exit. My backpack was full of textbooks since my dedication to schoolwork hadn’t changed. Outside, the weather was sunny, just a hint of clouds, but the humidity made my hair curl. I threaded through the knot of students heading for their cars and passed the gate to where all of the bodyguards and black vehicles were waiting.

Then I drew up short. Kian stood across the street, leaning up against an office building. When he caught sight of me, he straightened, checked the traffic, and jogged across the street. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it felt like forever since I’d seen him. Today, he was dressed in black, but it worked on him and didn’t come across as emo.

He wore a faint smile when he reached my side. To my astonishment, he leaned down to brush my lips with his in the kind of casual kiss that boyfriends gave long-term girlfriends. Since that didn’t apply to us at all, I froze until I heard some girls behind us talking about how totally hot he was, loud enough that I was supposed to notice.

“What’re you doing here?” I whispered.

“I thought it would be nice if I met you on your first day back.” The answer radiated goodwill and innocence, but … what about the rules that prevented us from socializing? Whatever had happened, his eyes begged me to play along.

“It’s an awesome surprise.” I stretched up on tiptoes to hug him, murmuring, “What the hell?”

“Later,” he breathed into my ear.

Okay, that was supremely distracting. Pressed up against him, it dawned on me that the reason that Colin Love and other crazy-hot guys didn’t register on my hormonal radar was because I’d already imprinted on Kian. That could be … unfortunate.

“Is this your boyfriend, Edie?” Allison Vega stood behind me, wearing a deceptively friendly smile, but after our exchange at lunch, I knew to expect trouble.

“Yes,” Kian said, before I could answer. “I was lucky to meet her this summer.”

“Oh?” Allison imbued the single syllable with an insulting amount of skepticism.

He aimed a warm look in my direction. “Normally I wouldn’t date a high school girl, but Edie’s different.”

That’s putting it mildly.

“So you’re … in college?” she guessed.

Kian nodded. “Look, we’re in a hurry. But good luck with…” He trailed off as his gaze slid over her. “… everything.”

I stifled a laugh. When he took my hand, I worked not to react, as if we did this every day, when in fact, we’d only done it when he was porting us somewhere. I let him lead me toward the station, but he surprised me by stopping at a red Mustang parked behind all the black town cars and SUVs, a splash of blood against raven wings.

“If I’m going to impress them, I have to go all the way,” he said.

He opened the door for me, and I saw Allison and Brittany watching from the gate. The former looked furious and the latter confused. With a mental shrug, I climbed in. He reached across my lap, opened the glove box, and pulled out a small tin. Opening it, he dipped his fingers in the clear gel and smeared it around the frame of his window. Kian tilted his head, indicating I should do mine as well. While I complied, puzzled, he did the front and back windscreens. Then he started the car and smoothly made a U-turn around the cul-de-sac and headed back toward the city.

“We can talk freely now. The effects will last twenty minutes or so.”

“What the crap is going on?”

“Circumstances have changed. I’ve been assigned to you exclusively.”

“And you’re not supposed to tell me that,” I guessed. Which was why we’d soundproofed the car with silicon goo
. God, my life is so weird.
“Let me guess, you’re supposed to charm me for some reason.”

“I wish you weren’t mixed up in this, Edie, but since the alternative is you being dead, I can’t wish for that, either.”

“Wishes are part of the problem, I’d say. Is this car one of yours?”

He sighed. “Why are you so clever?”

“You went cheap, huh? Sum things up, if time is limited.”

“Normally, I manage five cases at once. I grant favors as requested, answer questions when permissible. But my boss called me into his office today. See, he wants your last two burned as fast as possible. He didn’t tell me why.”

I nodded, listening.

“I was instructed to win your trust, get close to you by any means necessary.”

“Which you could be doing right now, by allegedly laying all your cards on the table. Sort of like a double bluff. You tell me enough of the truth to make me think you’re on my side while you’re manipulating me for your own ends.”

“That’s possible,” he admitted. “Wedderburn suggested I tell you that I’m too into you to stay away, I don’t care about the rules anymore.”

“I might’ve bought it,” I said quietly.

With effort I hid the wash of humiliation I felt at the prospect of him pretending to find me irresistible. “Explain the soundproofing. Why do they think you’ve shut them out?”

“To gain your trust,” he said quietly. “I pretended to go along with Wedderburn’s suggestion about pursuing you. He doesn’t know I’m putting all the cards on the table.”

“That’s why you told Allison you’re my boyfriend? In case your boss was listening.”

“Partly,” he admitted. “But also because I thought it might help you.”

“Huh?”

Kian explained, “The guys will think you’re a bitch if you turn them all down without giving them a reason. If you have a college boyfriend, it gives you more room to maneuver.”

That was certainly true. “What if I wanted to date someone at school?”

“Do you?”

“No. I was just curious what you’d say.”

“Am I supposed to be honest?”

“I’d prefer if you were.”

“Then … I don’t
want
you to date anyone else. I hated hearing that you hooked up with Ryu. From your perspective, I haven’t known you long enough to feel that way, but—”

“You’ve been watching me for a while.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I know how that sounds.”

“I read a novel where this hit man is supposed to assassinate a woman, but he ends up falling in love with her instead, just from watching her.” Maybe that was a stupid thing to say; I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel.

“I can relate,” he muttered. “Anyway, the girls will see you as less of a threat if they’re not competing with you for dates.”

It was hard for me to imagine that anyone could view me as a potential seductress, but that might be because deep down I was still science-nerd Edie, just wrapped in a prettier package. “Which makes them more likely to accept me. Good thinking. Is this part of making me use my favors faster?”

“Ostensibly it is. The longer it takes to wreak havoc at Blackbriar, the longer it’ll be before you start wanting something else.”

“Do you have any clue why they want me to waste my last two favors?”

Kian hesitated, risking a glance at me, and whatever he saw seemed to trouble him. “Wedderburn didn’t tell me this, but I did some checking on my own. I saw your file.”

Ice crept down my spine despite the sunshine. “And what did it say?”

“You have to understand, things at Wedderburn, Mawer & Graf are encoded by department, so I didn’t understand everything I saw.”

“That’s the company you work for? Sounds like a law firm.”

“Yeah. And for good reason. They know all about getting away with murder.” Kian offered a grim look.

“You’re not inspiring confidence right now,” I muttered.

He ignored that. “From what I could interpret, whatever you’re meant to do, it happens fairly early in your life.”

“So they need me to use my favors, so they’ll own me
before
I accomplish this mystery goal.”

As far as crazy theories went, it made as much sense as anything, but logic hadn’t played a big role in my life since I followed Kian off the bridge. Then the faint whisper resonated:
You’re dead, you’re dreaming, you’re delusional.
And I could only work with
this
reality, hard to credit as it might seem.

“Exactly. If they still owe
you
favors when you reach that pivotal moment, they lose the tactical advantage.”

“But … for your bosses to be sure of all of that, they have to be able to see the future somehow. What’re we talking about? Crystal ball? Tarot cards?” If I sounded derisive, it was because this was freaking me out. Too much mysterious conspiracy talk made me feel like screaming, but calm rationality was my chief strength. This didn’t seem like an opportune moment to deviate from a functional paradigm.

“They wouldn’t invest so much on such uncertain glimpses,” he answered.

“So, what, time travel?”

“You accepted translocation, but transtemporal is too far?”

I stared at him. “You’re serious.”

“My watch doesn’t have that function enabled, but those with more seniority have been awarded them. In a promotion or two, I could be working in acquisitions.”

“And that means?”

“Jaunting to the future to verify that a projected achievement is every bit as vital as the organization has predicted.”

“That sounds pretty cool.” The science geek in me was actively enthralled with the prospect of skipping ahead, checking how theory lined up with reality. Once the initial buzz dwindled, a shadowy organization that could pop into the future and evaluate people as if they were stocks whose value might rise or fall according to capricious shifts—I couldn’t help but see that as sinister. My enthusiasm dimmed.