She leaned forward, determined to change the subject, and whispered, “What do you think of Logan?”
My cheeks flushed, but embarrassment was immediately replaced by guilt. I had promised Emily no more secrets, and I wanted to mean it. But she didn’t know about the man in my visions. The man who was Logan.
“Fine,” she said. “Don’t tell me.” She stood, tugging my ponytail on her way by, and added, “See you tonight.”
Logan reappeared, jacket in hand, and asked, “Ready?”
I glanced at the clock. “Now?”
“Probably best,” he said, and I wondered if we were hiding this from Brendan, or possible attackers, or if it had something to do with Aern and Emily leaving as well.
I stood, prepared to question him, but he thrust the jacket at me. I stared at it.
“It’s chilly,” he explained, as if that answered everything.
I slipped my arms into the soft, cotton zip-up, and though I wasn’t exactly short, it dwarfed me. I started to explain that I had hoodies of my own, but then I realized where they were, along with most of my other things … in the room I’d been shuffled out of. The room with the window.
I shrugged the jacket tighter, pushing up the sleeves and flipping the hood over my hair. Logan’s mouth turned up, and he placed a hand at the small of my back to usher me toward the door.
The guards that were waiting there were not Brendan’s. They were not even men of the Division as far as I could tell. They didn’t so much as blink at the hand that rested on my back, or the jacket that was clearly not my own.
They split into groups, two remaining outside my now closed bedroom door, and two more walking the corridor in front of us. When we came to the back stairs, the one with dark hair waited, falling behind us as we made our way down. Logan pressed me forward, gently leading me around the service entrance to a small carport at the rear corner of the house.
Lining the curb were several new, black SUVs with dark tinted windows and I cringed, feeling suddenly like we were in a cavalcade of foreign dignitaries. But we didn’t get into the massive vehicles, instead walking around the back of them to what was unquestionably the coolest car I’d ever seen.
I was far from an auto enthusiast, but it was hard not to be impressed. Polished black, some modern blend of muscle and sports car, windows narrow and tinted, it just looked mean. Logan opened the passenger door, and I ducked into a charcoal interior of leather and chrome to stare at a dash full of shiny swank emblems that meant absolutely nothing to me.
He slid in beside me, and I looked up to see the procession of SUVs pull out of the drive toward the main gate. I glanced at Logan, who’d yet to put the car into gear, and he said, “Seatbelt.”
I reached for the belt, still watching ahead for the others. Through the trees, I caught a glimpse of two black vehicles that had turned right, and assumed the rest had gone left. When they were out of sight, Logan slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses before glancing at me. “Ready?”
I nodded, not even a little bit certain now, and the car sped forward, taking a hard right before turning onto the service road. When the large iron gate opened and we turned south, I was pretty sure Logan hadn’t cleared our trip with anyone on the property.
“Security,” he said, reading my thoughts. He looked over at me as he took another right. “If no one knows where you are, you’ll be harder to find.”
“Clever,” I murmured, thinking of how mad this was going to make Brendan.
Logan smiled. “It’s what I do.” There was something mischievous in his tone, and I wondered if he’d know what I was thinking that time as well.
The drive was long, or rather it seemed long because Logan had avoided the downtown traffic in lieu of a more scenic route. I slid down into the soft leather seats, pulling the warmth of the hoodie up to my cheek as I watched the landscape fly by. The material was soft and threadbare, the way they only got after years of wear, and it smelled of Logan.
I reexamined the vision of him, brief as it was, searching for a sign I might have missed when he was less real. That’s what he’d been before, an abstract. And now I was sniffing his coat.
I straightened, abruptly aware of how alone we were. We’d been together in my room, but it was different somehow, with the guards outside my door. Safer.