I didn’t say the words, but she picked up on the implication anyway and flinched.
Instead of protesting, though, she nodded stiffly, as if this had decided something for her. “Assuming you can magically resolve this—” she began.
“It’s not magic,” I interjected. “You should know that better than anyone.”
“—by killing Jacobs and Laughlin or negotiating with them, whatever your plan is,” she continued as though I hadn’t spoken, “do you think you’ll be happy with a normal life?”
The question took me by surprise, and I answered honestly before I could stop myself. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“But you’ve never lived it,” she pointed out. “You’ve been on a mission your whole life. First, in the lab, to learn your abilities, and then to hide them once you were thought you were outside. Will you be able to shut off the part of yourself that enjoys what you are?” she pressed, sounding almost sad. “Will you be satisfied using those same skills to calculate the closest parking space at the store or figure out who keeps letting their dog do his business in your yard?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but 107, you are not made for a normal life.”
Her words echoed something Dr. Jacobs had said to me the other night in the lab. You weren’t created for high school, dates, and football games.
It sent a chill through me. At the time, I’d thought he was simply trying to convince me to cooperate. But what if they were both talking about something far more complicated? Like I somehow lacked the capability to live a normal life? Like, I don’t know, a dishwasher trying to make toast.
I jerked my head in denial. No, I was being ridiculous. Human or not, I was still a person. I still had choices. “You’re wrong,” I said firmly.
“I was there. I’ve studied you, seen your test results,” Mara said in that same soft, pseudo-compassionate tone.
“Studying me doesn’t mean you know me,” I snapped. “Dr. Jacobs made that mistake. Look how that worked out for him.”
“All right, all right,” she said soothingly, and I felt her nervousness increase. She knew all too well what I could do if I felt threatened. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” I said through gritted teeth. I wanted her to take it back, to admit that she was lying to manipulate me into doing what she wanted.
I could feel my power building up, a tingling in my arms and legs that had nothing to do with my cramped position. I hadn’t lost control in days, not since destroying the mental block that had kept me from accessing most of my ability. But now, the car windows were shaking in their frames and the radio was giving off an alarming squeal of interference.
“Okay, fine. Forget what I said. How about a token of good faith? Ford and the others are at Linwood High School in Lake Forest.” She lifted her shaking hands from the wheel momentarily, as if to show she held no weapons. “No coercion, no promises.”
Strangely enough, that did more to convince me that she truly believed what she’d said about me. The mounting power within me dissipated abruptly, and I felt dizzy, empty. She had to be wrong. Had to be.
“Just keep my son safe,” she added, her mouth tight.
Until you realize that I’m right.
This time, it was her turn to leave words hanging in the air, unspoken, but I heard them all too clearly, just the same.
10
Zane
ARIANE BAILED OUT OF MY mom’s car like she did it every day.
I watched in amazement from the driver’s seat of the van as the door popped open and Ariane slipped out. She kept low as she closed the door and crossed to the sidewalk. Then she straightened up and started walking at an easy pace, as though she were just any normal person out for an early-morning stroll.
And it worked, as far as I could tell. The Laughlin surveillance SUV had been forced back a car or two by traffic. So no one noticed a thing, except maybe whoever was in the car directly behind my mom’s.
I shook my head in disbelief, then accelerated to meet up with Ariane. Per the plan, I’d left my mom’s place and hustled back to the abandoned house where Ariane and I had stayed to gather our belongings and get the van.
“Follow at a discreet distance” had been her direction, which I’d interpreted as about a block and half. It hadn’t been difficult to find them and catch up, thankfully. My mom had been proceeding well under the speed limit, a combination of early-morning rush hour traffic and probably being distracted by the conversation with her stowaway.
Ariane pulled open the passenger-side door of the van and boosted herself inside in a smooth movement. I didn’t even have to come to a complete stop.
She was like a female version of freaking Jason Bourne.
“That was unreal,” I said, unable to disguise the admiration in my voice, even as it made me cringe a little. I was like some kind of slack-jawed yokel, amazed by electricity or something.
“Thanks,” Ariane said, sounding distracted as she yanked the door shut.
“Did she say—”
“Linwood High School,” Ariane said abruptly, her gaze fixed on some unknown point in the distance. “Lake Forest, Illinois. If I remember the map correctly, it’s about twenty minutes from here, southeast. So head back to the highway.”
Okay. I frowned. She sounded almost as mechanical as the GPS we didn’t have (and could have used). Something wasn’t right here. I could almost feel her pulling into herself, retreating somewhere I couldn’t reach.
“Is everything—” I began, and then cut myself off, a hot flush of embarrassment flooding my face. Of course everything wasn’t okay. Yesterday, I’d gone and dropped a bomb on the delicate balance that existed between us.
I love you. I winced. Zane, what were you thinking? I’d never before said that to a girl, but I knew too well the destructive power of an ill-timed declaration like that. Quinn, my brother, had dumped girls for lesser infractions. Even if I had meant it more as, I love you for saying that, which—let’s be honest—wasn’t what I’d meant at all, it was still too much, too soon. Obviously.
I never should have said anything. I had to do something to fix this. I might have felt what I felt, but announcing it? Bad idea. I felt sorry suddenly for all the girls who’d opened up to Quinn only to find themselves deleted from his phone. It was humiliating.
“Listen, Ariane, I just wanted to say…” I struggled to find the words that would erase the ones from before, words that would bridge the distance I’d stupidly created. “About yesterday. That was dumb. I never should have said that.”
“What?” Ariane looked over at me, genuinely confused, as if she’d been somewhere else entirely for the beginning of the conversation.
“The thing I said?” I shied away from repeating it. Once was bad enough. “I’m sorry for laying that on you. Especially right now, in the middle of everything that’s going on,” I said, forcing a shrug. “So let’s just forget it, okay? I take it back.” I tried for a casual smile, but it felt more like a grimace.
She stared at me for a long moment, her forehead furrowed, as if trying to decide something.
I shifted uneasily in my seat. “Look, I didn’t mean—”
“No,” she said finally.
I gaped at her. It wasn’t a yes-or-no question. In fact, it wasn’t a question at all. “Uh, no what?” I asked.
“No, you can’t take it back,” she said, a hint of color rising in her pale face and her chin tipped up in defiance. Then she hesitated, vulnerability flashing across her features. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”