"Because he likes them, I'd guess. Some people are sentimental about their creative writing classes."
"Jesus Christ, he's killing people because he likes his stupid little creative world?"
"That's what I surmise," Logan said.
I sat back in the seat absolutely flummoxed. All those years, all those injuries, and so many civilians hurt or dead. Scribe could have wiped it all out with a pen stroke and he didn't. He didn't do it because he liked them. "Everything's a lie."
"Not what I just said."
I shook my head. "No. Not what you just said. But everything else. God. We didn't know; if we did, we'd have never come here. I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."
"So this isn't some sort of subterfuge? Something to throw me off my game? Son, I've been trying to get through to Yarborough for years and get Scribe pulled from his perch. He's not fit to lead. Should have retired years ago."
"Maybe he thought we'd come here?" I said, uncertain and confused. "Why wouldn't you tell the world this?"
He folded his arms before himself and I thought I'd gone too far. His veins bulged beneath the skin, threatening to wipe my scrawny ass off the map. "Emma's a good kid. She deserves her dad to come home one night, hopefully for good. And before all of this started to go down? It wasn't so much of an issue. People die, Noll. It happens every day, all day. I'm not responsible for all of them. Just the ones I have in here with me."
"That doesn't include us."
The fingers curled on one of his hands, not quite making a fist. "If you all want a transfer, you'd need to butter up to Scribe, not me. I'd take all of you in a heartbeat. Especially you. You're hard workers. But I can't put my superheroes at risk just to save you. If they go with you, so be it. But it's not an order that I'm giving after that pile of Kipas turned up. I just can't do that to them."
I got it. I did, but I still hated it. If he'd revealed Scribe to the world, it could have ruined little Emma for the rest of her life. It could have ended with Scribe getting nabbed by some villain and forced to write horrors beyond imagination. And if Scribe hadn't been a lonely idiot who wanted to play with his imaginary friends, we wouldn't have been in this situation to begin with.
"I appreciate the time, sir," I said, finally. "And I'll do my best to protect anyone who does decide to go with us"
The forcefield around us dropped and he offered his hand out to me. I took it without hesitation and gave it a solid shake. That man's hand was the size of the plate my waffle had been on, but he was careful not to hurt me. "Get breakfast. Get clean and dressed. You have until nightfall to leave the city. That includes her apartment."
"I thought it was noon?"
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Scat."
There would never be a time that I could repay that man for what he was giving us. The ability to plan had nearly been outside of our hope, but there it was. I got food for the rest of the gang and had to use one of their room service carts to make it back to the infirmary.... Where I found no one waiting for me. James sent me back to the penthouse with a smile, telling me that Cassie had been cleared.
Since she'd been the worst hurt of the group, of course the others had been let go, too. I pondered my way through breaking the information to the rest of them. I'd ripped apart all of the observation equipment in the penthouse within ten minutes of getting inside it. That didn't mean I hadn't missed something, but I didn't think I had.
And besides, when we turned up ready to fight Kipas to the bitter end, Scribe would know that we knew anyway. No reason not to let him know already, especially if he was still listening in on us.
I wheeled the cart into the penthouse and was practically attacked. Plates scraped, voices cried their thanks, and my people grabbed their food like they were possessed. Cassie sat down, perhaps a little more carefully than usual, on the couch. I sat next to her and she offered me a blueberry on the end of her fork.
How could I turn it down? I took the berry and swallowed it whole. "We need to talk after everyone's eaten. I've got details I was expressly forbidden from telling any of you."
"So you're going to tell us first thing, then. That encourages my confidence in you so much."
I cocked a brow at her. "It does what to your confidence?"
"I'm trying to use the big words around you. I thought you'd appreciate them," Cassie said, before digging into her breakfast like a ravenous shark.
It only seemed fair to let them all eat. We were going to have one hell of a hard day and they deserved something nice before it started. As they chowed down, I tried to think of things I could do for Logan, if we succeeded. I didn't expect us to, but we'd spent the past while denying odds that were against us at an extreme level. Somehow we'd lived through Melody, we'd made it back out of the Dream, but Scribe was going to be too hard for us?
"Take away his pen," I muttered to myself.
No one caught it, but the idea had merit. To the best of my knowledge, Scribe's powers were best channeled through one of his special-requested pens. I'd designed most of them with his help, worked on them, made them something worth having.
