Chapter 74
SEVENTY-FOUR
CADEN
Emma’s head rested against my chest, tucked perfectly beneath my chin, her breath warm against my skin. My fingers moved absentmindedly through her hair, slow and lazy, like my hands didn’t know how to stop touching her now that they could.
“I can feel your heart racing,” she mumbled soft, and a little smug.
“Might be because someone just tried to kill me with their thighs.”
She laughed, then smacked my chest lightly.
I winced, chuckling as I tightened my arms around her. “That’s physical abuse.”
“Caden?” Her tone shifted, gentle, but cautious, like she was bracing for something heavier.
“Yes, Nightcrawler?”
“You are going to find me a new nickname,” she muttered under her breath.
A ‘request’ I happily ignored.
She grew quiet for a beat, fingers absently tracing shapes against my chest.
“When we’re at Crown, there’s something I need,” she said finally, hesitant. “And I know it’s selfish to even ask, especially with everything going on, but…”
I tilted her chin until her eyes met mine. “Listen to me very carefully, Thompson. Whatever you want—whatever you need—name it, and it’s yours.”
She smiled faintly, then leaned up and pressed her lips against mine with the kind of care that broke me wide open. I groaned at the contact, but kept my hands to myself, letting her set the pace.
When she pulled back, I met her gaze. “Tell me, Nightcrawler.”
She bit her lip. Her eyes dimmed slightly, shadowed by something deeper. “It’s about my parents. When Maurice told us he didn’t have anything to do with that first warrant for my arrest...”
Her words were barely above a whisper.
“When he told me how much he loved my mom, how he had nothing to do with it—my parents’ deaths—I believed him.”
“He might have been lying,” I countered carefully. “He was a master of manipulation.”
Her gaze dropped to her hands, which were fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.
“I know. But my gut tells me he wasn’t the one. And if he didn’t kill them... If he wasn’t the one who gave the order...” She swallowed. “I still don’t know who did. I still don’t have that first warrant. And it’s as if that’s the part I can’t outrun.”
Her voice cracked at the end. Just a little.
Just enough to break me.
I reached out, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and cupped her cheek, grounding her in the only truth I knew for sure.
“We’ll find it.”
Her eyes lifted to meet mine, doubt swimming right beneath the surface.
“I promised you, Emma,” I said with all certainty. “I swore I’d help you find the truth. And to help you get your revenge. I have no intention of breaking either oath.”
I leaned in, pressing my forehead gently to hers.
“And the war that’s coming? It doesn’t change a damn thing.”
I pulled back far enough to look her in the eyes.
“We’ll find whoever did it. And when we do…”
A beat.
“We’ll make them pay. Together.”
She didn’t say anything right away. Simply stared at me, like she was memorizing every word. Like she was holding onto them for the battles ahead.
Then she nodded. Once. Solid. Steady.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Together.”
And this time, it felt like more than a vow.
The room James had assigned to me was packed in less than ten minutes.
Gotta love translation.
A soft knock at the door made me grin like some high school idiot in love with his first girlfriend.
I thought it was Emma, already missing me like she always pretended not to.
“Really? Can’t even last two min—” My voice trailed off as I opened the door and found Cara Sinclair standing there instead.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, the grin already slipping off my face.
She lingered in the doorway, oddly hesitant. That alone should’ve been a red flag.
“I came to clear the air between us,” she said.
I turned away, walking back toward my desk, but left the door open. A silent signal. She could come in, but I wasn’t about to roll out a red carpet.
“About what?” I asked, not bothering to mask the chill in my tone.
She stepped inside, her movements slower than usual. Cara didn’t usually fidget, but now her fingers kept twisting and untwisting like she didn’t quite know what to do with them.
“I want us to get along,” she said. “We’re fighting the same war, against the same enemy. The people in an alliance should at least be able to look at each other without wanting to draw weapons.”
My brow arched as I leaned a hip against the desk. “You say that like you’ve forgotten the children you killed with that monstrous Amplifier. My Offensives at Crown. At Hunza. People I trained. People I knew.”
I straightened. “You say that like you don’t know saying sorry doesn’t really buy forgiveness.”
“I wanted to do both, actually.” Her voice didn’t shake, but it wasn’t as steady as she probably meant it to be.
That got my attention, just enough to make me sit forward. “How?”
She glanced toward the bed. “May I sit?”
I gave a small shrug and motioned to it. “Go ahead.”
She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the mattress like someone not sure if she was welcome. I watched her. Not speaking. Not blinking. Only…watching.
I rested my elbows on my knees. “All right. Talk.”
She took a deep breath, the kind that steadied a soldier before a losing battle.
“I am so very sorry, Caden,” she said firmly but quietly.
“My actions toward you and your Collective were mostly misguided. Influenced by those who claimed to uphold the same principles I believed in. I followed them because I thought they stood for something righteous. I should’ve known better and I should’ve questioned more. ”
She looked down at her hands, then back at me.
“Fighting alongside you. Watching the way you, Walker, McGrath, and Emma carry the people who follow you, how you protect them even when it costs you everything, it made me realize where I should have stood all along.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Which is?”
“With Crown and Cyclos,” she said. “Not against them.”
I leaned back, folding my arms.
“I acknowledge your apology,” I said.
Her face didn’t change. But her eyes... Yeah, they flickered. “But you don’t accept it.”
I said nothing.
She nodded slowly, like she’d already expected the answer, like she wasn’t here for grace—only for a chance.
“Which is why I brought you this.”
She activated her Nexus. Yellow drops shimmered into existence above it, floating like stardust. With a flick of her wrist, she shot them toward me.
I caught them with mine, letting the file transfer settle into my system.
“What did you send me?” I asked sharper than I intended.
Her expression shifted, serious now, steeled like she was slipping back into the general she was.
“I had a talk with James before Stone’s funeral,” she said. “Not unlike the one we’re having right now. He listed all my misgivings, and in doing so I realized there is something I need to set straight.”
“I’m listening.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s about Emma’s parents. You all think Maurice branded Emma a terrorist and gave the order to kill her parents.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Continue.”
“I have intel on that subject,” she said firmly. “And, unlike you guys think, Maurice didn’t kill Emma’s mother. He would’ve never laid a hand on her. I was with him when he found out she’d died. I saw his face, Caden. He was devastated. The kind of devastation you can’t fake.”
I scoffed. “Maurice was a master manipulator, Cara. He played with identities like they were notes on a damn keyboard. He could cry on command and fool a hundred minds before breakfast.”
“It wasn’t him,” she said firmly, her eyes fixed on mine.
“He didn’t issue that first arrest. The one that labeled her a terrorist?
That wasn’t his doing. But when Emma killed those men at her home—when it became impossible to ignore—that’s when he went to the President and asked for her arrest. He requested she be placed in his custody, and made sure the warrant was lifted after she saw that future of you two in New York. ”
I frowned. “And you know this for certain...how?”
She held up her Nexus slightly. “Because he shared with me his memory of that conversation. And I just sent it to you.”
I glanced at the drops. The file pulsed softly, waiting. I didn’t open it. Only looked back at her.
“Well,” I muttered, “this is all very fascinating. But even if you’re right—even if Maurice didn’t pull the trigger on her arrest or her parents’ deaths—we still don’t know who did.”
Cara didn’t miss a beat.
She summoned another cluster of yellow drops and sent them to me with a flick of her fingers. I caught them, my Nexus absorbing the data like a breath being held.
“When Maurice found out Emma’s mother had been killed,” she said softer now, “he went feral. Started searching for answers. Quietly. Relentlessly. He didn’t find much...but he found this.”
“What is it?” I asked, eyes narrowing as the glow from my Nexus reflected off her face.
“The original warrant,” she said, quiet but firm. “The one that started everything. It’s signed with a name I can’t read. And a symbol beneath I’ve never seen before.”
She hesitated, then added, “All we could find out was that no human military was officially deployed. Not through any sanctioned channel. This didn’t come from the US Army. Whatever happened that night…it was off the books.”
I frowned. “Maybe one of the Chiefs was behind it?”
Cara smiled. “Such was my guess as well, but I have no idea where you’d find any of their signatures or symbols to compare it to.”
“I know it’s not enough,” she continued. “It’s not much at all. But at least you now have the original document. Maybe you’ll be able to trace it back to its author. Maybe you can finally give Emma the closure she deserves.”
I didn’t look away. “What do you want in return?”
Her eyes closed for a second, like she was answering a question she hadn’t dared say out loud until now.
“The hope for forgiveness.”
I studied her. “Did you offer a similar one to Walker?”
Cara shook her head. “I gave him something else. My men. The Radicals fall under his command starting tomorrow. He accepted the deal.”
A beat.
“Which means I get to stay.”
And then Cara did something so wildly out of character, my eyebrows almost rose to my hairline.
She blushed.
Actual color touched her cheeks. Cara Sinclair. Blushing.
“Holy shit. You like James Walker?”
She rolled her eyes and tried to brush it off, but the way her shoulders stiffened gave her away. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “I bet it is.”
She let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh if it weren’t so tired. “We have…” she hesitated, the word dragging like it hurt. “History.”
That made me pause. Not a lot could surprise me when it came to Cara, but that one landed.
“You and Walker?”
“Not like that,” she said quickly. “Just…complicated stuff.”
“So you said.”
I let the silence stretch a little, watching her squirm more than she probably wanted me to see.
“Must be very complicated if it’s enough to make you blush.”
She glared at me, but it was halfhearted at best. “Don’t push it.”
I raised both hands in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Cara snorted, unconvinced, then her eyes drifted to the bags on the floor.
“You and Emma leave for Crown tonight?”
I nodded, and just like that, my thoughts were full of her again: Emma. Just thinking about her lit something warm in my chest, as if my heart remembered what it was meant to do.
Fuck me. I was a total sap for that woman.
Cara must’ve seen it on my face, because she smiled. A real one. Not sharp or smug, simply…soft.
“I’m glad you guys found each other,” she said quietly. “Not just for the future of magi, but like, genuinely. For you two. I’m sure you will find a way around that pesky little death sentence.”
I snorted.
“Emma deserves good things. After everything she’s been through, she deserves something—someone—good.”
I lifted a brow, amused. “And I’m someone good?”
She laughed, full and unexpected. “Not really.”
Then, quieter, “But I think for her…you are.”
The moment lingered for a beat longer than it should have. Then Cara stood, smoothing out the fabric of her coat as if pulling herself back together.
“I have a feeling we’ll cross paths again sooner than either of us want,” she said. “Let’s hope it’s under better circumstances.”
“I doubt it,” I replied dryly.
She gave a curt nod and turned toward the door.
“Cara.”
She stopped, hand on the frame, and looked back.
I held up the Nexus, now holding the recording, and the document.
“Thank you for this,” I said.
Her gaze softened just a little. “Good luck, Caden. I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
And with that, she left.
The door clicked shut behind her.
I leaned back, exhaling slow as my eyes scanned the files hovering over my hand. Two real, undeniable pieces of the puzzle we’d been chasing for far too long.
For Emma.
Because buried in these pages was the thing no one had ever given her: a start to finding out what really happened.
And if I couldn’t take away the damage that had already been done, then I’d give her this.
Answers.
The truth she deserved. The truth they all tried to bury.
Wrapped in ink and evidence and proof she could hold in her hands.
I smiled to myself.
It wasn’t flowers or jewelry.
But it was one hell of a welcome home present.