I fell asleep in Milo’s arms that night. If somebody’s car alarm hadn’t woken us both up around midnight, we may not have woken up at all. It was the latest Milo had ever stayed with me. He claimed it was worry about Seekers that made him linger even after we woke up, but it was the first night he hugged me before he left. Every night after that, he stayed late and wrapped me up in his baggy sweatshirt-clothed arms every time he came or left. Every hug eased a little more of my doubts about him, and I didn’t resist.
This morning is no exception. Celia stands by Milo’s car as he greets me with a hug. It’s shorter than usual and he shoves his hands in his pockets as soon as he pulls back. His quick glance over at Celia explains his brisk greeting.
“Celia, Libby. Libby, Celia,” Milo says.
Celia finally steps away from the car and approaches me. “Hi, Libby. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Celia,” I say. “Are you ready for some serious shopping?”
She grins just like Milo. “Always.”
“Great, ‘cause I really need some help today. I’ve never actually bought a dress before. My mom always just picked them out for me,” I say.
“Wow, Milo,” Celia says, looking at her brother, “you weren’t joking about her.”
Milo nods and slings one arm around her shoulder. “I wouldn’t lie to you about something as serious as shopping, Celia. I know it’s practically your entire life.”
She punches him lightly in the gut. “It’s only about sixty percent of my life. The other forty percent belongs to boys.”
“It better not.”
“Whatever. Are you gonna get outta here, or what? Libby and I have work to do.”
More at ease after his playful banter with Celia, Milo comes back to my side. His hand lightly presses against the small of my back. He leans close to me, and asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to tag along? This one can be a bit of a terror when it comes to dresses and shoes.”
“I thought you didn’t do dress shopping,” I say.
“Only under extreme circumstances. This may qualify.” His mouth is so tantalizingly close to my skin. It’s heartbreaking not to have him move an inch or two closer and press his lips against my temple. I’m tempted to just close the distance myself.
Celia is too quick, though.
“Go, Milo. Go play your video games, or crawl around in your Jeep. Go do whatever it is nerds like you do and let us girls shop.”
“Jeep?” I ask, turning to face Milo. “You’re not going rock crawling without me are you?” I am instantly jealous that he would even consider leaving me behind. Out in the hills is the only place I get to see the real Milo. Out there he laughs and jokes, no sign whatsoever of the shuffling nobody he pretends to be at school. I don’t want to miss that.
Smiling at the slight whine in my voice, Milo grabs my pouting chin. “No, I’m not taking the Jeep out without you. I’m going to play a little Call of Duty with some friends from back home, and maybe do some research.”
I don’t even have to ask what he’s going to research. Seekers. It’s what we’ve spent all week doing. Without any luck whatsoever. The internet and library didn’t hold a single clue. The Guardians are too careful for that. I know who I could have called. He would have known the answers, I’m sure. Lance’s dad lets him in on what secrets and suspicions he can because he is so sure his son will follow in his footsteps. I wanted to call Lance, but I didn’t. Even bringing up the option pissed Milo off.
He thought I was crazy given how Lance treats me at school. Maybe if I had told him about Lance watching me and him stopping Angus, he would have reconsidered, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. If I did, I’m sure he would have heard the hope that Lance hasn’t completely abandoned me in my voice. I’ve thought about calling Lance without telling Milo a million times this week. Every time I pick up my phone and try to dial my fingers seem to freeze up. Maybe that’s for the best. If I’m wrong about Lance, my calling him will only make things worse.
I know more searching won’t do Milo any good, but if he wants to do something that can only improve his study habits, I’m not going to stand in his way. “Well, have fun with all that,” I say. “We’ll see you in a little while.”
His expression seems doubtful of my time estimate. Really, though, how hard can it be to find a dress?
“You girls have fun,” Milo says. He walks over to his little sister, pulls her into a one armed hug and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Celia, go easy on her, okay?”
She sniffs derisively and hugs him back. Then he walks over to me. I get a hug with both arms, and very nearly a kiss on the top of my head as well, but I think that might have been out of habit with his sister, because he stops before actually making contact. I’m not quick enough to suppress a sigh. I’m not sure how Milo interprets the sigh, but he pulls me closer for a few wonderful seconds. And when he does pull back his hand comes up to my cheek. My own hand reaches up to cover his hand, my eyes locking with his. Smiling as he trails his hand down my cheek, he turns his palm up to catch my hand.
My fingers brush against his diktats, and he freezes. Overwhelming curiosity, the kind that has gotten me into trouble more times than I can count, wells up inside of me. Milo seems to recognize it. His expression goes from startled to begging, pleading. His request is clear. Just leave it be. Don’t ask me. Not right now. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from uttering my question. Breathing out in relief, his grip tightens on my hand before dropping. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. Whatever terror he suffered, Milo will share it with me when he’s ready.
Or maybe Celia will tell me.
Hours, and hours, and hours later, I sling my newly purchased dress over an empty chair in the mall food court and plop into the chair across from Celia. My sesame chicken is steaming in front of me, its syrupy deliciousness making my stomach growl. Celia is already digging into her beef and broccoli. The promise of food is almost enough to make me forget my throbbing feet. At least this shopping trip went better than the last one. There were fewer glares and angry comments, probably due to the fact that I have done an excellent job of avoiding the media like the plague they are. Without my face plastered everywhere, fewer people react to me. The general population is a fickle creature. Thank goodness.
Taking a bite of sesame chicken, my hunger consumes me. We’ve been here forever. I like shopping as much as any girl, I suppose, but Celia is clearly the shopping champion. In four hours, we invaded twenty-three stores and tried on I don’t even know how many dresses. It was shocking that there were even that many dresses to try on in one mall. I never knew it before, but there is a very good reason I don’t go dress shopping. It’s too hard.
Celia definitely came through for me. The dress is perfect. At least I think so.
“Do you really think Milo will like the dress?” I ask Celia.
“Definitely,” she says between bites. “Probably too much, actually. You look really great in it.”
“Thanks for coming with me. I really do appreciate it.”
“I’m just glad I finally got to meet you. Milo’s practically been a ghost lately. I had to meet the person who could keep him away from me so much.” Despite the fact that I’ve practically commandeered her brother, there’s no rancor in her voice at all.
“Sorry he hasn’t been around. I really didn’t mean to steal him from you like that,” I say.
“No problem. I miss Milo when you guys are together, but it’s worth it,” she says. “I haven’t seen him like this since before we moved.”
My head tilts to one side in consideration. “Like what?”
“Happy,” she replies seriously.
“He wasn't happy before?”
She shakes her head. “Not since we moved here. He’s been a totally different person, sullen, angry, rebellious, nothing like he used to be. It really scared me for a while. I thought I was losing my big brother the way he an
d my parents fight constantly, or the way he acts and dresses, not to mention his general pissy attitude. He was never like that before.”
“What was he like?” Milo never talks about his life before moving to Albuquerque.
Toying with her food, Celia stares at nothing. “He used to be Mom and Dad’s golden boy. He did everything they asked, as long as it didn’t interfere with friends or football.”
I choke on a piece of chicken and splutter in disbelief. “Milo played football?”
“Yeah, quarterback. He never told you?” Then she shakes her head. “No, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t talk about it anymore, even though I think he really misses it. He was incredibly good, for someone without Speed and Strength anyway. You can’t tell because of the stupid, ugly, baggy clothes he wears all the time now, but if you could see him without his shirt on, you’d see how fit he is. Not that I’m making any suggestions, or anything. Milo freaks out about me and boys so much he better be following his own advice on that front. He is, right?”
Her intent gaze makes me flush scarlet. I’ve never seen Milo with his shirt off, but I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I didn’t know how muscular he is. I take every opportunity I can get to put my hands on him. Celia’s gaze grows even more questioning in the face of my silence. Oh, crap.
“Milo is definitely following his own advice,” I say quickly. “Don’t worry about that.”
Celia relaxes a bit and smiles. “He was right about you blushing. It is a good look on you.”
“Milo said that?” I ask.
“Oh yeah,” she laughs. “It’s hard to get him to open up since we moved, but when he does talk, it’s usually about you.”
I stab at my sesame chicken without taking a bite. “That’s surprising. Sometimes I think Milo likes me, but other times…I don’t know. It’s like he’s afraid of getting too close to me, or he’s not sure. He just goes back to shrugging and mumbling, and I feel like he just wants to be friends.”
Celia’s snort shakes her body once before settling into a round of muttering laughs.
“What?” I ask.
She shakes her head, still smiling. “Nothing.”
“Nothing? That’s all you’ve got?”
“Yep.” She goes back to eating her broccoli and beef with another shake of her head.
I’m not really sure what to make of that. She and Milo must have some kind of deal not to interfere with each other’s social lives. I don’t see why it would hurt for her to clue me in about what her brother’s thinking. Wouldn’t that only help him? I wish I weren’t an only child. Maybe I’d understand this apparent sibling secrecy thing. Knowing that getting Milo to be honest with me will undoubtedly take my figuring out what’s keeping him at a distance in the first place makes me wonder what else Celia is willing to hide for him.
“Why did you guys move down to Albuquerque? Milo doesn’t seem very happy about it, so why did your parents bring you guys here?” I ask.
Celia’s fork trembles slightly. She drops it back to her plate to cover it. “It wasn’t really a choice. We had to move. Milo knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier.”
“So, was it for a job?”
“No…there were, uh, family issues.”
“Like what?” I push.
She squirms, and there’s no hiding it this time. “Um, like the kind I’m not really allowed to talk about. Sorry, Libby. If Milo hasn’t already told you…you’ll have to ask him. I promised him I wouldn’t talk about it with anyone.”
So it was something to do with Milo specifically. I feel like I’m very close to figuring it out. “It has something to do with his diktats,” I say. It’s not really a question, because I wouldn’t ask Celia to break her promise, but my musing sends a jolt through her.
“Wh-what do you mean?” she asks. Pale and barely controlling a tremor running through her hands, she stares at me with wide eyes.
“I…nothing. I just saw his diktats, and how they’ve been damaged. I wondered if they were part of the reason he keeps away from people.”
Reaching across the table, Celia grabs my hand. Tighter than I would have expected, her grip turns my fingertips beet red. “Libby, you can’t tell anyone about his diktats, okay?”
“Why not? I mean, I won’t, but why? What happened?”
For a moment I think she’ll tell me. She looks like she’s about to explode. Clearly, keeping secrets isn’t the easiest thing for her. She shakes her head. “No. I can’t. You just have to leave it alone. If Milo tells you, that’s different, but until then, please, Libby, don’t say anything to anyone.”
Frustration pulses against my temples, giving me an instant headache.
“Look, Libby, my parents moved us out here to protect Milo. If you stir things up, you’ll ruin that. Please, just forget about it,” she begs.
Faced with her intensity, I can’t do anything but agree. “Sure, Celia. I don’t want to make things worse. I want to protect Milo too. I won’t bring it up again.”
“Thank you,” she sighs. She spears another piece of broccoli and raises it to her mouth. Her chewing is slow, uncertain, as if she’s waiting to see if I really will leave the topic of Milo’s diktats alone. She tries to act normally, but I can see the tremor in her hand that talking about it has caused. I pick at my own food and wait for her to get herself back under control.
Maybe Celia is right about Milo’s diktats. I have enough crap to deal with anyway, right? If he doesn’t want to tell me the story behind his screwed up Inquest, then I need to drop it. Whatever it is, it can’t be nearly as bad as Guardians and Seekers trying to kill me. Right?
“So, are we ready to go?” I ask after we’ve both cleared our plates.
“We got the dress, shoes, hot rollers…” I shiver at the mention. “…jewelry, makeup. That should be all of it. We made pretty good time, too,” Celia says.
“We’ve been here for five hours.”
She grins. “Exactly.”
Celia spends the walk back through the mall giving me tips on getting ready for the dance next weekend. I’m paying close attention to what she’s saying until we step outside. Deep, thrumming hatred sizzles against my skin. Somehow I keep walking. Clamping down my own emotions, I push my Perception out around me like I have done so many times before, searching for the source.
Make that sources. Six of them. All around me, closing in on us in a balanced elliptical. I don’t even need Concealment to point them out to me. They aren’t trying to hide their presence. If they were they wouldn’t be walking against the traffic. Everyone else is heading either to the parking lot or to the mall. But these six, bulky men are the only ones cutting straight across the packed parking lot. Directly toward me.
Lazaro just claimed the opportunity he was waiting for.
I have the sudden, irrational urge to have Lance by my side. It’s purely for his skill. Not only have I been forced to watch him every day since my Inquest showing off his ridiculous talent in class, with no shirt on to boot, but I grew up with him. I was careful to never show him my real Speed and Strength, but we loved sparring with each other. We fight together better than anyone else I’ve ever met. I swallow nervously. Six Guardians. My talents are unlocked now. I should be able to take them, no problem. I think.
A stocky guy in a polo shirt is moving slightly faster than the others, making a beeline for me and Celia.
Celia. Panic tries to fight its way into my mind, but I refuse to give it any purchase. They aren’t here for her. If I can get her in the car, she’ll be fine. We’re still a good hundred yards from the Bronco, though. Before I can even start forming a plan, I need to know who these guys are, Seekers or Guardians. I know almost nothing about Seekers, but somehow coming after me in a parking lot in the middle of the day with hundreds of potential witnesses doesn’t seem to fit their general secretive nature.
They’d come for me at night, not stalking down the asphalt like tigers in pursuit of
their next meal. A guy dressed in a too-big sports jersey has a deliciously gleeful expression on his pocked face that doesn’t seem to fit with being a Seeker either. Guardians then. At least they don’t have Vision. That would make things twice as hard. At least.
The fact that I have Speed and Strength to match theirs, as well as Vision, not to mention the other four talents, should give me a sporting chance against the six Guardians closing in on me. I’m not actually planning to fight them unless I absolutely have to, but it takes down my anxiety a bit to know I might not die in the next two minutes. I doubt any of my attackers believe that, though. Confidence swarms out from every one of them. Unless they’re morons, they all know I have all seven talents, but most likely they all think that I have only gained access to them recently. They’ll expect me to be fast and strong, but clumsy and ungainly, easy to take down.
Stupid Guardians.
A spiteful laugh bubbles through my clenched teeth. That’s when I realize that Celia isn’t talking anymore. The effort it takes to put a smile on my face is surprisingly small. I loop my arm in hers and pull her closer to me.
“Hey, Celia, you wouldn’t happen to know how to drive, would you?” I ask casually.
“Sure,” she says with a shrug that’s identical to her brother’s. “Milo’s been teaching me to drive the Jeep out in the hills and I’ve been driving dune buggies for years.”
That was actually exactly what I figured she would say. “Do you think you could back the Bronco out on your own?”
She hesitates for just a second. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Good.” I tug my keys out of my pocket and hand them to her.
“Are they Guardians or Seekers?” she asks.
My eyebrows lift in mild surprise. She is very attentive. And amazingly calm. It’s almost like she’s been through this before. But that is a topic for later. “I think they’re Guardians.”
“Thank goodness. I was afraid they were Seekers,” Celia says.
Milo has told her more about me than I expected. She says it so calmly, too. “What I want you to do is get in the Bronco and start backing out. Hopefully I’ll be ready to jump in by the time you get into the aisle. Be ready to move over, okay?”
“No problem.”
We’re twenty feet away from the car, now, and the Guardians are another ten feet from us. Shutting my Perception down, I open myself up to Vision. Seeing the things others cannot encompasses a whole host of uses, but in my opinion none more than glimpsing the future. I’m hardly as strong a Visionary as I am a Perceptionist, but all I need to see are the next few minutes. I just have to hope this is one of the times it actually works.
My vision blurs and the hulking figures closing in on us advance in a split second. Hardly inventive, they’re going to come straight at me in a pack as soon as Celia is in the car. Polo Guy will get to me first. He’s a lefty. Pocked Face and the Asian guy next to him will strike next. By then Celia will have the Bronco backed into the aisle. My eyelids flutter and I lose the glimpse before seeing the others.
Five feet to the car.
I transfer my bags to Celia’s arms and help her settle them in the back. She climbs into the driver’s seat looking outwardly calm. Only I can see her fingers twitching.
“I’ll see you later, then. Call me tonight if you want to see a movie, or something.”
Celia offers her own bubble reply, closes the door and starts pulling out smoothly. She gets halfway out of the spot before I sense Polo Guy’s presence. I drop into a tuck and feel the wind of his arms swooping over my head. Missing like that would have unbalanced most people, but the Strength in his front leg alone is enough to keep him from tipping forward.
Until my leg sweeps out faster than he can react. His head cracks audibly against the pavement and rebounds for another hit. Looking away from his glazed eyes, I spring back up with my arms crossed in front of my chest, only to throw them away from me as I reach full height. The sides of my hands plow into Pocked Face and Asian Man before they can react with their own undoubtedly fine-tuned Speed. I can feel their vertebrae quiver under the force.
Both men drop bonelessly.
The other three are only steps away. From behind the truck I can see Celia’s head jump over to the passenger’s seat. I dash to the Bronco and slide in before the two men I knocked out hit the ground. Rubber burns as I jam the gas pedal down. We’re turning a corner way too sharply before I look back and realize they aren’t following us. Not with Celia in the car with me. My speed drops only enough to let me pull onto the main road without rolling.
Only seconds passed between putting Celia in the cab and jumping in myself, but I feel as if I have just run a dozen marathons. Celia, though, is texting away on her cell phone.
“What are you doing? You’re not telling Milo about that are you?” I ask. It’s shocking how shaky my voice is.
Celia sends her message and flips her phone closed. “Tell Milo? Are you kidding me? If he finds out about those Guardians, he’ll be glued to your side thinking he can protect you somehow. I’d really never see him then, and as great as I think Milo is, he’s obviously no match for those guys.”
She understands. I don’t know why Milo can’t see the truth as easily. “What were you doing then?”
“Just texting Milo that we’re heading back to the motel. He wanted to know when we were done so we could meet back up. I told you, he only leaves your side to avoid dress shopping and to sleep.” Her phone chimes with what I suspect is an answer from Milo. Celia checks it and sinks into her seat. “He’s on his way.”
I feel as relieved as Celia looks. Whether Milo can protect me in some way or not, I feel safer with him near me. Very near me. My speed picks back up with the promise of Milo’s arms slipping around me.
“You handled that really well, Celia. I was worried you were going to freak out,” I say.
She leans her head back, and says, “Yeah, well, you get used to it after a while.”
“What?”
Celia cringes. “I…never mind.”
My fingers grip the steering wheel harder than necessary. Eventually somebody is going to tell me what drove them from their home in Ohio to the Southwestern desert.
Chapter 16
Demands