“That’s in three days,” I said.
“What’s he playing at, Blackwell?” Lake plucked off the cap of her water bottle. “I get that he’s the Council representative, but that stunt he pulled with the press was sketchy. Whether or not someone from the facility gave him false information like he said, don’t you think he’s creepy enough to warrant an interview?”
“Believe me, I’ve done so,” Brendan said. “He’s been interviewed thoroughly, along with the other agents in the facility. The process is clearly ongoing, but for right now Blackwell checks out. And the Council has already approved of his event.”
“Why?” I started to untie the rest of the bandages wrapped around my left arm. “What’s it for?”
“At the outset? Press. Key members of the Sect’s higher ranks will be seen with political leaders reaching out to victims of phantom attacks, donating to rebuild lives in places where the APDs aren’t always sufficient to protect them. That’s the overt purpose.”
“And the covert purpose?” Belle plunked her staff onto the mat, hooking her elbow around the wood. “What’s the Council planning?”
“Those key members of the Sect are going to be meeting with a few of the politicians that have been instrumental in fanning the flames against our operations—and against you.”
“Inviting your enemies over for tea. Playing nice for the cameras.” By the time Lake came back, she’d downed half the bottle. “Straight out of the diva playbook.”
“The Sect can be seen as trying to build bridges,” said Brendan. “While at the same time, they can exert their influence, make deals, do whatever they can to try to lessen the public and political heat on us right now. It’s political maneuvering, but doing so under the guise of charity softens the edge.”
“It’s risky, though,” Lake said. “I mean, you don’t want to look fake while you’re being fake. That’s the first rule of PR.”
“And it’s actually because of the PR that I’d like you to be there—not all of you, mind,” he said quickly because Chae Rin had already thrown her staff onto the matt. “You can’t be seen as shirking your duties. I’d like one of you to go while the rest complete missions. Just one. For extra security and for the optics.”
“Not it,” said Chae Rin, splitting the air with the swift crack of her staff.
“Me! I’ll go!” Lake waved her hand in the air enthusiastically. “I’m sick of being stuck in here anyway. Honestly, lately it’s like we’re either narrowly avoiding death or training up on how to narrowly avoid death.”
“Sorry, but I think your image as a pop star might have the opposite effect,” Brendan explained. “We need the charity and the Sect by extension to look genuine.”
“What do you mean?” Lake pulled back. “You think I’m not genuine?”
Well, I certainly couldn’t tell. Lake’s big doe eyes were a weapon when they were trained at the right target. Brendan was already squirming with guilt.
“N-no, not at all. I was merely explaining the importance of framing and—don’t get me wrong, Victoria, you’ve been an irreplaceable asset in humanizing the Sect through your activities. You’re very . . . human.” He covered his cough with his fist. “And certainly your appearance has been our asset—appearances!” he added fast, his face burning red. “Your appearances. Your appearances have been an asset . . . to us.”
“I’m sure you’ve done a lot of thinking about her appearance.” Without looking at him, Chae Rin spun her staff around her head and struck the air with one quick thrust. “And her assets.”
“Maia!” Brendan blurted out my name, flustered, just as Lake began to consider him with a curious stare. “You, Maia. I think you would be good for this. You have the image of being somewhat of an ingénue. It would work.”
“Great, another fund-raiser,” I said. The last fund-raiser I went to in New York was a dud even before Saul started slaughtering everyone with phantoms. “All right, whatever. Let’s just hope there isn’t a death toll for this one.”
“Good. I’ll make sure they know to expect you.” Without another word, he walked out the door.
“Oh, wait!” I stuffed my bloody bandages into the garbage and caught up with him outside.
“What is it?” Brendan said as I shut the door behind me.
“Uh. Well . . .” Now that I was out here, under the unfiltered glare of the morning sun, I didn’t know how to start. The breeze lapped at my face, fluttering the curled hair across my forehead.
“It’s about Aidan, right?”
Brendan looked at me like he understood. Of course he did. Aidan was his brother. They were family.
As I watched his brown eyes lighten, I suddenly felt bare, as if I’d just remembered that half of me was missing. It was the same phantom pain that always sprang up each time I thought of my sister.
“He’ll be okay,” he said before I could speak. “You’re friends with him, right?”
I lowered my head. “Friends . . .” Was I?
“Girlfriend?”
Startled, I snapped my head back up, shaking my head resolutely.
“Well, whatever it is, thank you for caring about him.” Brendan lifted his arm as if to touch my shoulder, but, overcome with awkwardness, settled on a curt nod. “He can be a lot to handle. He’s always been mouthy, rebellious. Always talked back to Father.” He paused. “Well, he used to before Greenland. . . .”
As he trailed off, I could tell the same questions screamed in the silence that stretched between us.
“Brendan,” I started in a quiet voice. “What Vasily said back there in the Hole—”
“Vasily is a liar,” Brendan snapped, cutting me off. Then, composing himself, he continued. “Vasily was merely trying to confuse us. It was my mistake bringing Aidan; I should have known something like that could happen.”
But I wasn’t satisfied with that answer. “Vasily made it seem like something went down, Brendan. Something beyond the fire.”
“But nothing did,” he said. “You can check the records yourself; it’s all there for public viewing. Believe me, I’ve pored over them more than once. Was the facility tough? Of course. Was the training difficult? Historically so. But when the fire happened, there were so few survivors that the Council simply voted to keep it closed. That’s it. No foul play. All the survivors of the fire were thoroughly interviewed. Even Aidan. He was only fourteen. The poor boy was traumatized. And he never wanted to go in the first place.”
Brendan’s lips trembled a bit as he closed them.
“He’s not a bad person,” Brendan said. “Really.”
“Yeah.” I’d felt it too. The warmth he’d shown me since he’d met me was genuine. But everything about Rhys seemed like a contradiction. The more I peeled, the more sweet parts fell away, revealing those black spots I wasn’t sure I was ready to see.