Shadow Bound
Page 81
“Wow.”
“Yeah. But the real bitch was that I didn’t know how I’d gotten there, so I didn’t know how to get back. And that was way before I had a cell phone. I had to walk a mile and a half to a pay phone and call my grandmother collect. I thought she’d be pissed, but she looked kind of relieved. I guess because she didn’t have to keep the secret anymore. And maybe because I didn’t get my dad’s Skill instead.”
“What was his Skill?”
“He was a Silencer. I think she was afraid I’d suck all the sound out of a room when I got mad and nothing pissed my grandmother off worse than not being heard.”
I laughed, and she relaxed a little more.
“What about your parents?” Kori asked. Then she frowned and seemed to reconsider. “Not their Skills. Don’t tell me anything Jake could use. Just…what were they like?”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall, remembering. “They were good parents. More in love with me and my brother than with each other, but they held it together. My dad died when I was in college, and my mom followed him five years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” Kori pulled her foot out of the bedroom and folded it beneath her, and I took that as a good sign. Like she was literally stepping out of the darkness. To be with me.
“I want to tell you something,” I said, trying to hold her gaze in the shadows. Kori had trusted me with everything she had, and I owed her something in return. Something real and personal. Something that meant as much to me as the things she’d told me about herself.
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“You’re probably right. But I’m going to say it anyway, and it would mean a lot to me if you’d listen.”
“Okay.” She turned to face me, giving me her full attention, though she still sat inches from the bedroom and the dark escape it represented.
“My brother’s still alive.”
“Steven?” Kori whispered, and I frowned. Then I realized his first and last names were public record, and of course Tower had done his research. “But he was killed in action. I saw the obituary. There was a funeral.”
“It was a memorial,” I said, trying not to outright lie to her, even as I let her believe her own misassumptions. Because this one truth was all I could give her at the moment, and I shouldn’t even have done that. “Because there was no body. Because he didn’t really die.”
“He faked his death?” she said, and I was grateful that she didn’t really expect an answer to that. “Why would he do that?”
“To avoid this,” I said, spreading my arms to indicate not the suite around us, but interest from the organization that had paid for it. “We knew from the time our Skills manifested that they’d attract the wrong kind of attention from the wrong kind of people. Our mom was paranoid, but she was right about that.”
“So he thought it’d be easier to fake his own death than to avoid notice from the syndicates?”
I scooted closer, praying she wouldn’t back away from me. “Faking death was to avoid notice from the syndicates.”
“So, that picture of him with Meghan? That’s not really seven years old?”
“Probably not,” I admitted, and it felt good to voice even that little bit of truth.
“What’s his skill?”
“I can’t tell you that. I shouldn’t have even told you he’s alive—that wasn’t really mine to tell—but you’ve told me so much…”
“You don’t owe me anything, Ian. And I won’t tell Jake about your brother. Even if he asks.” I started to object, but she spoke over me. “If he wants me to suffer, I’ll suffer. The question I refuse to answer is irrelevant.”
I stared at her, awed by her strength and determination. She’d done time in a hell I could only imagine, and come out intact. “I feel sorry for all the people who will die without ever meeting you, Kori. But the selfish part of me is happy, because I don’t even want to share you with the people you already know. Most of them don’t deserve you.”
Tears shone in her eyes, and my heart cracked within my chest. “You okay?” I asked, aching to move close enough to touch her. “I didn’t mean to make it worse.”
“You didn’t. I just… I need you to understand that whatever this is between us, it can’t last once you’re bound. I think we need to keep that in mind.” The words came out slowly, like she wanted to pull them back in before they’d even fallen.
“Why can’t it last?” I scooted closer across the floor, and she didn’t back up. “Jake can’t take this away, Kori,” I said, scooting another foot closer to her, wishing I could explain that I wasn’t going to be bound to Tower, and soon neither would she. He would have no power over us.
“He’ll try. He’ll renege on the apartment, and the car, and he’ll take back any privileges he offers, unless you get them down in writing. I wouldn’t blame you for bailing.”
“I don’t care about any of that. And I’m not bailing.”
“He’ll throw women at you. Beautiful women. Women who wear nice dresses, and drink champagne, and don’t cuss.”
“I don’t want those women. I want you.”
Kori shook her head slowly. “You don’t even know me.”
“Yeah. But the real bitch was that I didn’t know how I’d gotten there, so I didn’t know how to get back. And that was way before I had a cell phone. I had to walk a mile and a half to a pay phone and call my grandmother collect. I thought she’d be pissed, but she looked kind of relieved. I guess because she didn’t have to keep the secret anymore. And maybe because I didn’t get my dad’s Skill instead.”
“What was his Skill?”
“He was a Silencer. I think she was afraid I’d suck all the sound out of a room when I got mad and nothing pissed my grandmother off worse than not being heard.”
I laughed, and she relaxed a little more.
“What about your parents?” Kori asked. Then she frowned and seemed to reconsider. “Not their Skills. Don’t tell me anything Jake could use. Just…what were they like?”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall, remembering. “They were good parents. More in love with me and my brother than with each other, but they held it together. My dad died when I was in college, and my mom followed him five years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” Kori pulled her foot out of the bedroom and folded it beneath her, and I took that as a good sign. Like she was literally stepping out of the darkness. To be with me.
“I want to tell you something,” I said, trying to hold her gaze in the shadows. Kori had trusted me with everything she had, and I owed her something in return. Something real and personal. Something that meant as much to me as the things she’d told me about herself.
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“You’re probably right. But I’m going to say it anyway, and it would mean a lot to me if you’d listen.”
“Okay.” She turned to face me, giving me her full attention, though she still sat inches from the bedroom and the dark escape it represented.
“My brother’s still alive.”
“Steven?” Kori whispered, and I frowned. Then I realized his first and last names were public record, and of course Tower had done his research. “But he was killed in action. I saw the obituary. There was a funeral.”
“It was a memorial,” I said, trying not to outright lie to her, even as I let her believe her own misassumptions. Because this one truth was all I could give her at the moment, and I shouldn’t even have done that. “Because there was no body. Because he didn’t really die.”
“He faked his death?” she said, and I was grateful that she didn’t really expect an answer to that. “Why would he do that?”
“To avoid this,” I said, spreading my arms to indicate not the suite around us, but interest from the organization that had paid for it. “We knew from the time our Skills manifested that they’d attract the wrong kind of attention from the wrong kind of people. Our mom was paranoid, but she was right about that.”
“So he thought it’d be easier to fake his own death than to avoid notice from the syndicates?”
I scooted closer, praying she wouldn’t back away from me. “Faking death was to avoid notice from the syndicates.”
“So, that picture of him with Meghan? That’s not really seven years old?”
“Probably not,” I admitted, and it felt good to voice even that little bit of truth.
“What’s his skill?”
“I can’t tell you that. I shouldn’t have even told you he’s alive—that wasn’t really mine to tell—but you’ve told me so much…”
“You don’t owe me anything, Ian. And I won’t tell Jake about your brother. Even if he asks.” I started to object, but she spoke over me. “If he wants me to suffer, I’ll suffer. The question I refuse to answer is irrelevant.”
I stared at her, awed by her strength and determination. She’d done time in a hell I could only imagine, and come out intact. “I feel sorry for all the people who will die without ever meeting you, Kori. But the selfish part of me is happy, because I don’t even want to share you with the people you already know. Most of them don’t deserve you.”
Tears shone in her eyes, and my heart cracked within my chest. “You okay?” I asked, aching to move close enough to touch her. “I didn’t mean to make it worse.”
“You didn’t. I just… I need you to understand that whatever this is between us, it can’t last once you’re bound. I think we need to keep that in mind.” The words came out slowly, like she wanted to pull them back in before they’d even fallen.
“Why can’t it last?” I scooted closer across the floor, and she didn’t back up. “Jake can’t take this away, Kori,” I said, scooting another foot closer to her, wishing I could explain that I wasn’t going to be bound to Tower, and soon neither would she. He would have no power over us.
“He’ll try. He’ll renege on the apartment, and the car, and he’ll take back any privileges he offers, unless you get them down in writing. I wouldn’t blame you for bailing.”
“I don’t care about any of that. And I’m not bailing.”
“He’ll throw women at you. Beautiful women. Women who wear nice dresses, and drink champagne, and don’t cuss.”
“I don’t want those women. I want you.”
Kori shook her head slowly. “You don’t even know me.”
