She stared at Jackson’s bleak face. He’d kill Three if he had to. He’d do it so she wouldn’t have to. She almost allowed him to take the burden for her. But she didn’t want this for him any more than he wanted it for her.
No more than her parents had wanted it for her. She’d been so focused on her pain, on revenge, that she’d never stopped to ask herself what they’d want. They’d want her to use Three. They’d want her to discover everything she could about her girls, about any other girls, and use that knowledge to keep them all safe. She had that information. Alex had gotten everything they needed from the man. It was time to let him go.
She reached out with her mind. She turned her face away as she spoke to the Dust—lungs, heart, brain, done. Councilor Three felt no more pain.
But she did.
Jackson sat with her for several long moments. He slid his hands up from her chin to cup her cheeks, thumbs stroking the eyelids she had squeezed shut. With the barest of pressure, light prismed beneath her lids, melted together, and spread across her face. Her Dust responded to his touch, not with explosions but with comfort. Warmth. Peace.
“Thank you, I guess,” she finally mumbled, “for being here. Stopping me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He was a really bad person.” It was the only defense she could offer, in very small voice.
She almost didn’t hear his response.
“Turns out he’s not the only one.”
Shock hitched her breath in her throat. The rainbow light flashed away, replaced by a void. She pulled her face from his grasp and got up, moving around him to sit on the couch.
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean you.” He breathed out a heavy breath and ran his hands over his short hair. He stood in one smooth motion and came to the couch to crouch in front of her and take her cold hands in his.
When he spoke, urgency threaded through his words. “Alex has us sitting here, waiting for the others.”
His voice sounded far away and distorted. She frowned. So what if they waited? It was the plan, unspooling now as they’d planned it.
Behind him, the door opened again. Alex climbed up and pulled it closed behind him.
Jackson rose and crossed to him. All she could hear of their whispered conversation was Jackson’s angry, biting consonants.
Alex held up his hand, his head down, but staring at Jackson. “The plan has not changed significantly from the original—”
“We were supposed to be moving. They were supposed to have a fighting chance to get away.”
His words ran up against the immovable object of Alex, and Alex’s expression never changed.
Jackson pulled back. “This isn’t right.”
“You have your orders, Agent Lee. Unless ensuring Lena’s safety is a problem?” He gestured the younger man out.
Jackson straightened his shoulders and nodded with a jerk of his head. He didn’t slam the door after himself. It closed with a barely audible click.
Alex shook his head and crossed to the Councilor. He leaned down and felt for a pulse.
Jackson had told him.
Her voice still sounded hollow. “He’s really dead this time.”
He looked up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I guess you’re not the only one who can make decisions on the fly.”
He blinked then barked a short laugh, more tense than amused. “I deserved that.” He crossed the room to crouch in front of her. “Did you get what you needed?”
“What I needed?”
His voice was quiet and his eyes bleak. “From his death. From revenge. Did you get what you needed?”
Did she? She shook her head. “Was I supposed to?”
A long breath eased out of his lips. “I never have. But I hoped it might be different for you. I hoped his death might serve you somehow. It might make liking it a little easier on you.”
He knew she’d liked it. He wasn’t judging her for it. Jackson’s horrified face flashed into her mind.
“We’re not supposed to like it, are we?”
“Apparently not. I do. I wanted it to be different for you.”
She slid forward to rest her head against his chest.
His slid his arms around her.
“It’s okay, Alex. I got something.” She leaned into him, drawing strength from his acceptance. “And that’s enough.”
Chapter 31
Lena curled on the couch, staring at the wall opposite her, thinking about her parents. What would they make of her journey? What would they think of her choices? Of Alex? She looked at him now.