Chapter 33
Gray shows up at my door the next morning. We were supposed to go to the Temple for incitement training, so I raise a questioning brow when he hands me a tablet.
“What’s this?”
“We held a briefing this morning about Lyddie’s parents,” he says.
“Yeah, Kallister was asking me about them last night. Something happening there?”
“Travis has been taking a lot of meetings with Biotech lately. It’s raising concerns.”
“Do you think it has something to do with Mods?”
“I can’t imagine it wouldn’t. Anyway, we loaded some intel on here about the De Veldes. We want you to go through it.”
“Why me?”
“You were close with Lyddie in the Program. You might have talked about things that didn’t seem notable at the time but could have value. If you have the background, maybe something will jump out at you.”
“Okay, yeah. I’ll read tonight.”
I leave the tablet in my room, and we head down to the Temple, where the first person we see is Hawkins.
He’s alone in one of the alcoves, meditating.
I feel a pang of sympathy as we quietly walk past. He spends most of his time down here, though I don’t really blame him.
When he’s aboveground, he has very few friends or allies.
I’m pretty sure Kallister is the only person I’ve ever seen speak to Hawkins.
“Why can’t we do this in our quarters?” Gray asks.
“Because the daggerstone amplifies the gold frequency. I want to show you all the progress I’ve made this week.”
“Don’t tell me you managed to incite Hawkins.”
“Yes!” I can’t wipe the big, stupid smile off my face. “The other day.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I mean, it only lasted a few seconds before I lost my grip, but I still did it.”
We walk into an alcove and sit facing each other under the glowing blue light.
“What command do you want?” I ask eagerly.
He reaches into his pocket and takes out a switchblade. He flicks it open. “Tell me to cut myself.”
A sense of familiarity washes over me. That’s exactly what Uncle Jim asked me to do when I was a child. The first time I incited out of sheer anger and frustration, it was to order him to cut a line in his flesh.
I swallow, closing my eyes. “All right.”
Slowly, I start to gather up the gold dust in my mind.
One little piece at a time, until there’s so much of it in my hands, I’m nearly bursting with it.
It’s like holding a ball of power. I grip it loosely, letting the energy flow from my hands to my arms, my neck, my chest. It circles my body like strands of gold, wrapping around every part of me.
I open my eyes. Gray is watching me. I’ve learned that saying the commands out loud really is more effective, which makes me wonder if incitement is tied to the target mind in an auditory way, similarly to how projection relies on the optic nerve.
It does seem like sound waves assist the process, but I can’t prove that at all, because there are times when voicing the commands does absolutely nothing.
“Ace,” I say.
His lips quirk in a smile. “Hmm?”
“Pick up the knife and cut a line in your palm.”
He doesn’t move. Our gazes remain locked.
“Pick up the knife and cut a line in your palm,” I say firmly.
His hand, which rests flat on his thigh, begins twitching.
“Holy shit,” he mutters, and I grin.
I work to maintain my grip on the gold, determined not to let a single thread escape. When I feel the strands getting looser, I take a breath and sharpen my focus.
“Pick up the knife and cut a line in your palm.”
His hand moves toward the knife.
“Pick it up.”
Gray’s long fingers twitch even harder. His jaw is ticking, too.
He doesn’t look happy. I don’t blame him.
He’s not in control of his own body, and I can’t imagine how terrifying that feels.
The level of trust he’s showing by allowing me to do this to him is awe inspiring.
I don’t think I would ever trust somebody that much.
“Pick it up.”
His fingers wrap around the handle.
“Flip your other palm.” I glance at his other hand. Those fingers spasm, too, before he flips his palm around. “Cut yourself. Doesn’t have to be deep.”
His features are strained. Stretched taut. He is not in control at all.
“Cut yourself. Come on.”
I’m feeling the strain, too. I recognize the sensation.
It happened when the firing squad was resisting me, as we waged a battle, their will against mine.
That’s what drains the gold energy, I realize.
The subject’s resistance. That’s when the beads of sweat roll down my temples. That’s when I start to feel weak.
Hawkins has been teaching me to breathe through it. Before, I was trying to push the gold away. Now I draw it even closer. Make it part of me.
With the tip of the blade, Gray scratches a line in his palm.
It’s thin, barely breaking the skin, but I don’t have the energy to keep going. I release my grip on his mind, and the knife clatters to the ground.
He shudders from a full-body shiver, his green eyes stricken. “The fuck,” he mutters.
I gulp. “I’m sorry, I—”
“No, no.” He rubs his forehead, then shakes out his hands. “That was…I can’t even describe it. It’s like every part of your body is fighting. You don’t want to do it, and you’re watching yourself do it, and…”
He shivers again, and in that moment, I know he comprehends it. Why inciters are so feared.
Yet when our eyes lock, he doesn’t look afraid of me.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
“Don’t be. You need to be able to control it. I agreed to help you.” He shrugs. “Don’t feel guilty that you have this power. We don’t choose our abilities.”
“You’re right. I didn’t choose incitement. Sort of like how you didn’t choose…precognition.”
He sputters out a laugh. “I already told you, I’m not a precog.”
“You also promised you’d tell me your ability if I guessed it correctly,” I say in accusation.
“And you haven’t guessed it yet.”
“I’ve guessed everything! There are no more abilities to guess!”
“I don’t know what else to tell you, cowgirl.” He winks at me. “Be better.”
“I hate you.”
There’s nothing in the De Velde file that raises any red flags for me, though that isn’t to say it’s not fascinating.
I spend the entire evening engrossed by it.
Lyddie’s mother is apparently a super genius, and her father is a master strategist, credited with planning the Valterra Ridge ground attack.
I understand a lot better now why the first time I read Lyddie’s mind, she was thinking one thought on repeat: You’re not good enough.
It must be daunting being the progeny of two exceptional, brilliant people. Lyddie doesn’t lack intellect, but I wouldn’t call her brilliant. She does belong in Intelligence, though. I won’t take that away from her, no matter how much I want to strangle her to death.
Several days later, the Authority holds another briefing, but it isn’t until late afternoon that all field operatives are summoned to the mess hall.
Xavier and I leave the shooting range and make our way to the Personnel floor. He’s technically not a field operative, but nobody stops him when we enter the cavernous room. That’s progress, I suppose.
We shuffle in and join Tana, who recently passed all her assessments and is finally living at the Dagger.
Teriq leads us off, his dark eyes serious as he scans the room. I haven’t seen him around lately. Gray told me he was spending some time at Bramble Base and running recruitment missions in the wards.
“When we bombed the Command base this past winter, it wasn’t just a warning shot to the Company.
It was also an appeal for recruitment,” Teriq says.
“It’s yielded results, certainly. Declan and the other Bramble Mods have been training a ton of new recruits.
We’ve been doing the same here, and most of the Mods from the salt mine have now joined our ranks. ”
“But?” Henley drawls from his perch across the room.
Adrienne takes over. “But we need more allies. There aren’t enough Mods on the Continent to wage a winnable war against the Company. We voted this morning, and we’ve all agreed it’s time to reopen communications.”
“With whom?” Evlynne says sharply.
“The Faithful, for one.”
A disgruntled hum travels through the room. What I’ve learned since coming here is that the Uprising and the Faithful hold very disparate views about how society should be run and are the most reluctant of allies in this conflict. The Faithful want the old ways back. The Uprising, not so much.
“That means we need to renegotiate with Jasper,” Adrienne says. “He’s one of the few people on the Continent who knows the locations of all their camps.”
I raise a brow. That’s a huge position of power for Jasper Reed to have. But I guess it makes sense. He’s the one who smuggles supplies out of the city and trades them with the Faithful. He’d have to know where their camps are.
“We’re hoping he’ll strike a deal,” Kallister says. “Maybe get us an audience with various Faithful leaders.”
“In exchange for what?” someone asks.
“We don’t know. We’ll see what his terms are.”
Evlynne speaks up again. “You said the Faithful, ‘for one.’ Who else are you planning to parley with?”
There’s a pause. Kallister glances at Adrienne. He’s clearly reluctant to field that question, which tells me it won’t be a popular answer.
With a shrug, Adrienne says, “Tierra Fe.”
She’s rewarded with loud protests and irritated curses.
“Those people are fucking crazy,” someone else says. “They’re not going to join with us. They literally think we’re demons from hell.”
“And yet they trade with us,” Adrienne points out. “If you believed someone was a demon, would you really trade glenshade and medical supplies with them?”
She has a point.
“Here’s the thing about the devout,” she says, rolling her eyes. “If you’ve studied your history, then you’ll know the one theme that always crops up with religion is hypocrisy.”
There are a few chuckles.
“We’re not ready to approach them yet,” she assures the room. “We’re simply mentioning it because we do believe a mission to Tierra Fe will be necessary in the future. But that’s a problem for another day. Right now, we’re setting up a rendezvous with Jasper in the city.”
Gray steps forward. “I’m mission lead for this. Jas has agreed to meet in two days. He’s insisting on meeting in the Point.”
“Why can’t he come here?” grumbles Evlynne.
“Because he’s a difficult prick. He claims he’s in the middle of a delicate business deal and can’t leave right now, so we need to go to him. I’m assembling a security team of four. I need snipers.”
My heart jumps.
“Who’s in?”
Not every hand goes up this time, as opposed to the Ice Canyon mission. I suspect some people aren’t interested in risking their lives for Jasper Reed.
My hand goes up, of course.
Gray’s gaze sweeps the crowd. He selects Mako and Orin, and a woman in her late twenties named Shonee. I’ve seen her shoot and she’s good.
“And Darlington,” he finishes, eliciting a burst of joy inside me.
“And me,” comes Xavier’s sharp voice.
Laughter rings through the crowd.
“Fuck off,” Evlynne tells him. “You’re not going on a mission.”
“I go where she goes.” Xavier jerks his head toward me.
When I give him a look of warning, he shakes his head at me.
His tone brooks no argument as he adds, “I didn’t say anything when you ran an op at the salt mine, but this is the Point.
You’re not going to the Point without me. It’s too dangerous.”
His eyes meet mine, and I hear the unspoken part.
Cross told me not to let anything happen to you.
Not that it matters anymore what Cross wants. I doubt he’ll hold Xavier to that promise. He won’t even speak to me anymore.
But I get it. A mission in Sanctum Point will be risky. The city is crawling with surveillance drones, and there are checkpoints at every zone now.
“He’s not going,” Evlynne fumes. She looks around the room. “How is anyone even considering this?”
“I know the city,” Xavier says, his gaze focused on Gray. “I know the blind spots. I can get you in and out undetected. I’m an asset, Blake. You know that.”
“You’re a Prime,” Evlynne answers before Gray can. “You’re a Command lieutenant. Nobody trusts you, and nobody should.”
“Ev,” Gray says. “You can swap in for Shonee, if it makes you feel better.”
Her gray eyes smolder with anger. “Nothing about this makes me feel better. But yeah. I’ll do it.”
Although we haven’t been dismissed, she stalks toward the door. Gray intercepts her path, touching her arm.
His voice is barely audible, so I don’t know what he says to her, but I notice the way his hand strokes up her arm, squeezing gently.
Evlynne bats him away. “No. Fuck off with that. Don’t try to calm me down.”
She bulldozes past him and stomps out the door.
“Are their briefings always this exciting? The Command never had so many outbursts,” Xavier whispers in my ear, and I have to swallow my laughter.
Later, I find myself in the common room with Xavier and Poppy. They’re playing cards while I read the mission briefing for our rendezvous with Jasper. I don’t want to wait two days. I’m antsy, ready to head out now.
Beside me, Xavier is complaining about Poppy’s winning streak, while the teenager smugly gathers up the cards and ticks off another win for her on the tablet they’re using to keep score.
I fight a smile as I watch them bicker. Xavier got his wish, after all—he convinced one person on this base to like him.
Unfortunately for him, it’s not a person he’d ever hop into bed with, but…
well, he’s had enough conquests to last a lifetime, of both the female and male varieties.
A platonic friendship with a teenage girl might be good for him.
“You’re such a cheater,” he accuses.
“I’m not cheating,” she protests, then proceeds to lay down another winning hand.
“Such a fucking liar.”
“I’m just lucky! I have luck in cards.”
As he flicks her off, her gaze lands on his wrist, which still boasts the tracker that nobody has even suggested removing.
“Are they ever going to take that off you?” Poppy asks curiously.
He snorts. “I don’t know. Go ask your mommy.”
“My mother doesn’t listen to me.”
A shadow falls over the table, and then Saint appears. “Room for one more?”
Poppy’s face immediately turns five shades redder, which reminds me of the day she vehemently denied having a crush on him. I can’t fault her if she does. With his dark-green eyes and chiseled face, Saint is hot. Not Cross-level hot, but—
“What are you doing here?”
I blink. For a second, I thought I heard Cross’s voice. I guess I have him on the brain.
“It’s late.”
No. It’s happening again.
The new, perplexing ability I forgot about until this very moment.
Because that is Cross.
“I hope you don’t mind. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
My body runs cold.
And that…was Lyddie.