Altered

“We’re going on a mission,” he tells me. The omnipresent glee is in his voice. All around us men test rifles and pull on vests, but you’d think Kincaid was going camping.

“What?” I put my question to Dante this time, unsure I’ll get real information from Kincaid. A Sunrunner dashes past us, knocking against me slightly and pushing me into Kincaid.

His gloved hands catch me, but he releases me as soon as I’m steady. His eyes flick to the offending man, and I wonder what punishment is in store for him.

“We have info on the Whorl,” Dante says. “One of our scouts found some information in the Heart.”

“The heart?”

“Heartland, middle of former America. It’s in the dead center of the Interface’s cover.”

“I thought it was mostly abandoned,” I say.

“It is. There are a few outposts though,” Dante says. “Kincaid’s intel indicates the Whorl may be hidden in one of them. They’re heading to check it out.”

“I want to go, too,” I say.

“Impossible,” Kincaid says, his focus remaining on the flurry of activity surrounding us. “I want you to stay safely on the estate.”

“Not a good idea,” Dante says to me. “It’s several days of travel and rough company. I’m staying behind with you—”

“I’m not a child,” I say, feeling a bit petulant despite my claim. But as soon as the words escape my lips, I spot Jost loading a bag into one of the crawlers. “He’s going?”

I don’t know how the question comes out because I feel the familiar paralysis of last night in my chest.

“Yes, he was the first to volunteer. He’s very single-minded,” Dante says. “They’re leaving quickly, and I didn’t want you to miss saying goodbye. I know you want to go with him, but—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “You win. I’ll stay here. Bye.”

“I knew you would see reason. Which is why I’m sure you won’t mind staying on the estate during our absence. Under no circumstances are you to leave. I’ve informed security,” Kincaid says.

“What?” I ask, my voice breaking. I clamp my mouth shut to stay the tears rising in my throat. I won’t let them see me cry. The Guild knows we’re here, and the answers I’ve been searching for aren’t here on the estate. Kincaid is putting me in a purported net of safety, but I feel trapped, like bait dangling from a snare.

“It’s for your own security,” Kincaid assures me. “I would hate to see you fall into the wrong hands. Dante is staying as well. It will give you a chance to get to know each other.”

The prospect of growing closer to a man who doesn’t hide his disapproval of me is small comfort.

“Valery will be traveling with me, but I’m leaving Jax behind. He should be able to maintain grid operations in an emergency,” Kincaid says to Dante.

While they are distracted, I dash off. Dante calls out after me but he’s swept back into the conversation before he can stop me. I don’t stay to watch the preparations. I gather up the hem of my robe so I don’t trip over it and flee back to my room.

Sensation is creeping through the blessed numbness—a horrible clawing that rips at my chest. But before I can shut the door behind me and figure how to feel about this, a hand pushes it open and Jost ducks in. His eyes are flat and cold, but the trance melts as we stare at each other. I’m glad we’re not immune to each other’s presence.

“I’m leaving,” he says. His tone is clipped. Formal.

“I heard … saw…” My words stumble out of me, and I want to sink into a puddle on the floor from embarrassment. Where is the girl who sat in her room, not crying, not feeling now? Why has she abandoned me at this precise moment?

“They have info on the Whorl. If they find it, I need to know,” he says.

“Why? You can’t do anything with it,” I point out.

“We could control Arras and if we do, I won’t rely on anyone else to help me get to Sebrina. Every second we waste here, I lose minutes with her! I don’t trust any of them to care about that,” he says. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“I do understand.” The words explode from my mouth.

“I thought you did, but I can’t expect you to care about Sebrina the way you care about Amie or your agenda. If you want to get caught up in their war, so be it. I’m going after my daughter.”

He’s drawn a line down the room, the edge from our argument last night creeping into his voice. It’s a line I’m not welcome to cross.

“Leaving doesn’t change anything,” I say.

“I know,” Jost says coolly. “I don’t want it to.”

Okay, that hurt.

“To be clear, I want you to rescue Sebrina, too,” I say.

“I know that, Ad,” Jost says, “but you aren’t willing to fight to help me.”

That hurt, too.

“I’ve never stopped fighting,” I claim.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “You aren’t responsible for her.”

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to let someone else in, Jost Bell,” I say.

“Why?” he asks.

I hesitate.

“I never wanted it to be like this—” he begins.

“You should go,” I say, cutting him off. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Jost reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and I shatter, falling piece by piece back to the dome of safety in Arras. Back to stolen kisses. The memories mix together, muddling into something black and viscous, and the words I should say die on my lips.

“No, I’m not saying goodbye.” He walks out, sending my world spinning.

TWENTY-TWO

I STARE BLANKLY AT THE DOOR. THE only light streams in from the opened curtains, and everything around me is washed out and colorless. It feels false, even though this is reality. This is the real world. My real world, and I don’t want any part of it.

I’m still sitting there when Erik pushes the door open and peeks into my room. “Hey, you.”

I can’t manage a reply.

“I heard,” Erik says, the blue of his eyes deep and concerned, “about Jost.”

“I’m so tired of this,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m so tired of fighting with him.”

“But he’s gone now.”

I swallow, trying to digest the bitter truth of his words. “Yes. He is.”

“Which means you don’t have to fight anymore.” Erik moves beside me, hovering next to my vanity and waiting for me to speak.

I glance up at him. His expression is hard, but there’s something beneath it. Conflict.

“Erik—” I start to say.

“Don’t,” he says, putting a finger on my lips. I close my eyes and a tear falls, cold against my heated skin.

“You’re crying,” he says, and his hands drop from my face.

“It’s … it’s not you,” I say, because it isn’t.

It isn’t him. I know how he feels. And part of me wants to crash into him and forget. Forget Jost. Forget everything that’s happened since we left Arras. But Erik deserves more than I can give him. He deserves more than I can give anyone.

“For once let yourself feel something, Ad!” Erik yells, losing his composed attitude. “You can’t push everything down and make it disappear.”

“I feel alone,” I mumble.