It reminded me so much of that first day, the first time we’d talked. I took two long steps toward her, intent on closing the distance between us. But then she jerked to a stop, holding her hand up, palm out. “No,” she said sharply, and I could feel the light but insistent pressure of power against my skin from the neck down, holding me in place.
She’d never done that before, ever.
She didn’t trust me.
I froze, making no effort to move against her containment. Had she come here just to say that to me? To tell me in her cool, unemotional way that I should leave her alone, that “it would be better if we didn’t do this”? That was another possibility I’d imagined.
“Ariane,” I began.
She shook her head, a curt movement that screamed rejection. Her gaze searched my face, as if an answer might be written there. Or like she was trying to memorize it before leaving forever.
“Don’t,” I said. “Please.” I needed her to give me this chance. Everything would be totally fucked if she just walked away.
She tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Are you…still you?” she asked finally.
Her question took me aback. “Who else would I be?” I asked.
“That’s not an answer,” she said.
I stared at her. “I’m still me,” I said slowly, feeling faintly ridiculous. “I’m still Zane.”
“You would say that no matter what,” she murmured. Then, raising her voice, she asked, “Why can’t I hear you anymore? Yesterday I caught that one thought at the end, one you intended for me to receive, but that was all.”
“I can barely hear myself sometimes,” I said. “It’s static and noise. I have to concentrate to push through it. It’s a side effect of my treatment.”
She nodded, but not like she believed me, more as if she was simply giving herself time to think and/or me time to incriminate myself on some matter that I didn’t even understand.
“St. John found me and saved my life,” I said. “His virus—he calls it NuStasis—it amped up my healing and—”
“I know what it does,” she said. “I just don’t know how far it goes.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” I said quickly. “I’m not brainwashed or anything. I just have access to new areas in my brain.” For now. Some of the time.
“Then why are you here?” she asked.
I hesitated. “At the trials or in this hallway?” I asked, stalling. Justine had been very explicit in what I could and could not reveal. In short, nothing.
Ariane narrowed her eyes at me.
“I can’t tell you,” I admitted. “Not yet. Please, just trust me.” I paused, trying to find the right words. “I know I don’t deserve it. But, please.”
For a second, my words seemed to reassure her; she released her hold on me, and her shoulders relaxed, the harsh blankness in her expression easing fractionally. But as quickly as that moment started, it ended. “Competitor elimination is supposed to be discreet. A public hallway hardly qualifies,” she said, glaring at me.
I stared at her, her words not clicking at first. Then I got it. “What are you…Do you think I wanted to meet here to hurt you?” I shook my head. “Ariane, I would never—”
A soft sigh came from behind me, close enough that I could feel it on the back of my neck. Or maybe that was the chill that immediately skittered across every inch of my skin, making the hair stand up.
I spun around to find Ford leaning against the alcove that housed the restaurant entrance.
Unlike Ariane, Ford was wearing what she’d had on the day before, her school uniform. Maybe it was another attempt to make her look “normal,” or maybe that was all she had to wear.
“You continue to be tiresome,” Ford said to Ariane, her voice almost identical to Ariane’s, just with a flatter inflection. “It’s only against the mission specifications if I’m caught killing him here.”
That was, as ever, reassuring. I took a step or two back, raising my hand in her direction.
Ford glanced at me with a mirthless smile, amused by the gesture.
The urge to prove myself—and wipe that smirk off her face—thundered through me, until I trembled with it. Heightened aggression and competitiveness seemed to be part of my new deal, along with the physiological changes from NuStasis. Or maybe that was just me, a chip permanently affixed to my shoulder and finally able to do something about it.
“What do you want?” Ariane asked Ford, giving a tiny warning shake of her head at me.
“No thanks for saving you yesterday?” Ford asked.
Ariane raised her eyebrows.
“They would have killed you, with that pathetic attempt at destruction,” Ford said.
“Not if you had helped,” Ariane snapped.
I had no idea what they were talking about. It must have been something that transpired before I came in.
“There were too many of them in one room,” Ford said dismissively.
“It wasn’t like I had a lot of options,” Ariane said through her teeth. “And at least I’m doing something.”
Ford narrowed her eyes. “As am I. Family comes first. I would have thought even you would recognize that by now.” Her disdainful gaze slid to me and then back to Ariane.