The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared #1)

“Liana, what is up with you today?” Zoe asked, her eyes searching mine. “You’re acting really weird.”

I hesitated, and then shook my head. It was too late to send her back; she was intrigued, and she wanted to at least see Grey. Maybe having her there would keep him from throwing me out, but it would also mean he would have to watch what he said. I’d have to find a way to get him alone—but maybe Zoe could help me with that.

“All right, look… I need to talk to Grey in private,” I said softly. “The information he has, if I’m right, could be very sensitive, and I don’t want it getting out before I can do something about it.”

“Oh.” Zoe blinked, and I could practically hear the gears in her head moving as she considered that. “Well, he’s living with someone, right? Maybe I can keep him distracted while you talk to this guy. Speaking of which… you sure you’re going to talk, or are you going to kiss him again?”

“You’re disgusting,” I said with a laugh, shoving her in the arm. “And yeah, that seems like a reasonable plan. C19, right?”

“That’s right,” she said. “Let’s get over there. Follow me.”

I followed her as she began weaving through the people bustling around. She slid through them seamlessly, while everywhere I went I seemed to get jostled and bumped into, like it was some sort of sick game. Then again, it could’ve been my bright Knight uniform, which screamed that I didn’t belong.

Suddenly the aisle narrowed considerably, dead-ending at a ladder, and Zoe began climbing it, following the signs. We had to climb up two levels, onto a grated floor that bore a resemblance to the other floors in the Tower, with the exception of the exposed girders and absence of walls, which opened the hall up on one side. Doors appeared in the wall every thirty feet or so, at first only on one side, but as the passageway continued it became boxed in by apartments on the other side too, creating a long hall. We followed the numbers into it, the lighting in this area once again dim and red. Eventually, we stopped in front of a door, “C19” emblazoned in orange paint on the front.

“Do we just knock?” Zoe asked.

I nodded. “It’s all we can do,” I said, reaching out to do just that.

“It’s you,” a voice said behind me, and I whirled, my hand going to my chest as my heart began to pound in alarm. I hadn’t even heard anyone come up behind us.

I gaped at Grey, taking in his spiked, damp hair and the bag of food in his hand, surprised to see him. He stared back, his eyes wary and cautious. After a moment he stepped up to me, and my heartbeat began to thunder in my ears, drowning out everything as he drew inexplicably close.

For a second I imagined him kissing me, pulling me to him and doing it slowly, gently, tenderly… but then he pressed his palm to the door. It slid open, and I fell in, dragging Zoe with me.

“Might as well come in,” Grey said as he stepped around us, not bothering to help us up. “You did come all this way.”





10





I looked up from where I lay flat on my back and saw his legs retreating deeper into the dwelling, bypassing a door on the right and moving through an archway into a communal living space. The smell of sulfur and chemicals hung thick in the air, and I heard Zoe sneeze twice in rapid succession.

We helped each other up and dusted off our uniforms.

“What do you think?” she whispered furtively. “If he is a criminal… Well, he is cute. I can kind of see the appeal.”

“Shut up,” I said, my cheeks heating slightly. “Let’s go.” I tugged on the edges of my uniform to straighten it. A quick glance at my wrist showed me that the war between four and five had started again on the walk over, and I exhaled, stepping into the compartment.

The house was warm inside, the heat of a furnace sending ripples into the air, but I kept my uniform buttoned, unwilling to show vulnerability to whoever was inside.

Zoe followed at my heels and quickly closed the door, while I continued deeper into the dwelling. I stepped into the communal living space and paused to take a look around, expecting to see a dining room table or some kind of seating, but finding none of the usual objects one could expect. Instead, I was looking at a small, basic laboratory. A table supporting several machines I didn’t understand and lined with tubes stood in the center of the room, surrounded by tall shelves filled with specimens. An old man was leaning over the table, one eye pressed firmly to a microscope, his mouth moving as he muttered to himself.

He looked up to grab a mug of steaming tea and take a sip before turning back to his microscope, seemingly oblivious to the two young women darkening his doorway. The old man wasn’t even sweating; he looked as calm as a cat. I heard a rattle just past him and looked up to see Grey in a small kitchen nook connected to the side of the room. That was it—just the door in the hall, and this.

I stepped farther into the room, letting Zoe in behind me, and Grey glanced up at us as he set a head of cabbage down on a wooden block, knife in hand. “You guys want cabbage soup?” he asked as he neatly cut the cabbage in half.

“Cabbage soup?” the old man sputtered, looking up and around. “Guys?” His eyes found us, and he paused. Then he zeroed in on my crimson Knight’s uniform, and a flash of anger consumed his face.

“Who is this?” he snapped at Grey. “Who have you brought into my home, boy?”

“This,” Grey said, casually pointing at me with his knife, “is Squire Castell from the Citadel. She’s the one who tried to arrest me last week. I’m sure you remember me telling you.”

“That’s nice,” the man groused. “But that doesn’t explain why she’s here.”

He looked around, not nearly as good at masking his emotions as Grey, and I could see the nervousness on his face plain as daylight as he examined some rows of samples. I followed his gaze, and saw nothing but liquids in a range of colors in their containers, tiny labels marking them. I took a step closer, trying to study the labels and make sense of the very small print, but he quickly grabbed the tray in front of me and clutched it to his chest.

“My work is delicate,” he hissed. “I would like you to remove these two from my space. Immediately.”

Grey sighed as he artfully sliced up a carrot. “She knows where we live, Roark—she could just come back.”

“Then you need to do something about them!”

“What would you propose I do?”

Zoe finally found her tongue and stalked around me to look at them both, her finger pointed. “Excuse me,” she said testily, “but would you explain what the hell you mean by do something about us?”

“We could kill them and throw them into the Depths,” the old man continued, ignoring Zoe’s statement, and I had to reach out and catch her arm before she could launch herself at him. My other hand went automatically to my baton.