How could that possibly be good for him? Would it eventually work its way through his system?
The woman grimaced, trying to shift within the field of my power, drawing my attention to her again. I squeezed a little tighter as a reminder that she was not the master of her own destiny at the moment.
She gasped. “I wasn’t…I just wanted to stop her from leaving.”
“Ariane doesn’t like to be touched,” Zane said, edging closer with caution, as if I might suddenly lash out at him as well.
“Noted,” Justine said through clenched teeth. She watched the two of us, her mouth set in grim lines.
“Are you okay?” he asked, inching toward me, and despite the fact that I still didn’t know what was going on, part of me trembled in anticipation of his nearness.
“Yeah,” I said. His dilated eyes were alarming at this proximity, just a sliver of the blue-gray left around the edges, and the knuckles on his left hand were bruised and bloodied. “Are you?” I asked.
He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine.”
I didn’t quite believe him, but for the moment there were greater worries. “What about the trackers? Did you—”
“It’s taken care of,” he said, waving my words away. “I gave my phone and tag to Adam.”
I frowned. “Adam? How—”
The woman cleared her throat loudly, calling our attention to her. “Excuse me. Now that we’ve established that you’re both well and full of cozy puppy feelings, do you think we can move on to releasing me from this lovely little bear trap you’ve created?” Her smiling eagerness had subsided to a general crankiness that pleased me.
Zane shifted uncomfortably. “Can you let her go?” he asked me.
Can I? Yes. Would I? Not yet. “Why? Who is she?” I asked.
A look of exasperation crossed the woman’s face. She didn’t like that we were discussing her as if she weren’t here. But, wisely, she said nothing.
“This is Justine,” Zane said, raking a hand through his hair. “She’s who I brought you here to meet.”
I stared at him and took a step back, all my fears returning and my stomach sinking with dread. “You planned this?” I asked, working to keep my voice level. I’d worried that Zane had been changed by whatever St. John had done; I’d never considered that they’d somehow convinced him to switch sides.
He nodded, and my heart fell.
“She’s government like the others,” I spat. It was stamped all over her, now that I knew to look for it. The hardness in her expression that suggested she was used to getting what she wanted. I’d seen it at times even in my father, who was accustomed to giving orders to teams beneath him both at GTX and in his former military life.
“No, not like the others,” Justine said quickly.
Zane shook his head. “She’s not. She’s been working with Emerson—Dr. St. John—to try to reach you and get you out.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Right.” As if there could be a fairy-tale ending to this one, a winged godmother—albeit a seemingly grumpy one—appearing out of nowhere to grant my fondest wish.
“Just hear her out,” Zane said. “Okay?” His strangely dilated eyes met mine, pleading with me. Then he held his hand out, palm up, a gesture of peace…or a reminder of our first “date.” When I’d first trusted him and taken his hand. I wanted to have that same sense of trust again.
But I couldn’t bring myself to let go of my suspicions and take his hand. Not yet.
Listening, however, felt manageable. “Fine.” I released the field around Justine, and her hand dropped off my arm, but with no force to counterbalance her weight, she toppled forward.
She caught herself and straightened up, glaring at me as she rubbed her wrist like the blood circulation had been impeded. Oh, please.
Zane lowered his hand without looking at me. I couldn’t feel his hurt, not anymore, but I could see it in the new stiffness in his posture.
“I’d ask you to sit,” Justine said to me mockingly, “but I wouldn’t want you to take it as a threat.”
“You spend your life in a cage with people poking and prodding at you,” I snapped. “Then let’s see how you interpret someone making a grab for you.”
“Fair enough,” she said, picking up her coffee cup and setting it upright. “But it seems as though maybe you’ve gotten used to some kinds of poking,” she added darkly, eyeing the two of us.
It took a second for the double-meaning to click.
My mouth fell open. Had she seriously just said that?
“Jesus,” Zane muttered, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.
She waved one hand dismissively as she wiped up the puddle of coffee with a stack of napkins. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. It was a joke.” She shoved the soggy napkins aside and leaned forward in an all-business manner, her hands folded neatly on the table.