The Espionage Effect(84)
My attention slid briefly to the remaining six guards. Plus Escobar, that made seven. We could take them. Assuming Alec remained on my side—or ever had been. But escape had never been the purported plan. Getting as close as possible to Escobar had. Ferreting out his master scheme had been the endgame all along, no matter how Alec and EtherSphere got there.
Escobar pressed into Alec’s space. “Is she a spy?”
Alec’s shoulders shook with brief silent laughter before a soft snort huffed out. “Not that I know of.”
“Are you a spy?”
At the implication, Alec’s face hardened. He leaned forward until negligible space remained between their noses. They were both equally tall, both dark haired and broad shouldered, both could have been brothers, or father and son, and appeared an equal match for the other by physical strength.
“No,” Alec replied, tone absolute.
Escobar pulled backward, spun, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good to hear. I’d hate to replace my best arms dealer.”
Even though he’d been absolved of suspicion, Alec’s fierce expression held fast as his chest rose and fell in controlled deep breaths.
“Now, about Devin.” Escobar returned and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, but I immediately shrugged him off. Faster than I could blink, his arm banded back around me, gripping my shoulder painfully. I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to yelp.
Alec finally allowed himself to glance at me. The intensity of his stare spoke volumes. The interpretation was tricky, however. If I gave his silent look the benefit of the doubt, he warned me to trust him, to hold on, to play along.
Trust in all things with me had been obliterated. But I remained a survivor and could continue to play spy no matter what anyone tonight had said or believed. I’d been the master of duplicity all my life—surrounded by it, actually—even if I’d never officially recognized what had been going on.
“She will be mine,” Escobar commanded. “I’m sure you don’t mind sacrificing your lover for her own safety.”
A muscle in Alec’s jaw clenched at the suggestion that had been laced with an overt threat. A barely perceptible nod was his only reply.
“Good.” Escobar spun around, easing his grip on my shoulder. As if it had been decided. As if I had no say in the matter. Then, seeming to realize his social-convention blunder, he turned toward me and put one hand on my shoulder while the other lifted my chin, gently this time. “This is for the best, my lovely Devin. You’ll see. No one had your best interests at heart, only their needs. Not your parents, not your ‘best friend,’ and not Alec, who didn’t know the real you.”
“And you do?” My tone bled sarcasm as I arched a challenging brow. Couldn’t hold back the words or my cynical anger. And truly, amid the unbelievable events in the last few days, in my entire life, Escobar was the only one who hadn’t tried to deceive me.
“You have so much unrealized potential. Let me be a part of helping you see that.”
Pain stabbed into my chest, intimate memories with Alec flashing into my mind. I’d been foolish enough to believe in the glimpse of potential with him. Stupid enough to hope.
I stuffed the sudden pain down, unwilling to acknowledge it further. And the sleeping giant within me, the darkness I’d kept close but harnessed for so long, stretched like a cat from a nap.
Of course, I distinguished good from evil. I also knew my choices were limited, control at the moment—an illusion. And the right thing to do? It depended on one’s perspective.
I could deceive right along with the rest of them. And as I knew too well, even lie to myself.
I glanced down at my gauzy delicate clothes, ideal for dancing on the beach. Then I twisted my lips into the perfect smirk, aiming it at Escobar. “I’m gonna need a better outfit.”
Fifteen minutes later, after Escobar guided me down two flights of stairs, into a spacious locker room, then turned his back to offer me a modicum of privacy to change, I snugged a black baseball cap onto my head, then pulled my hair through the tightened back loop. The long-sleeved shirt billowed around my shoulders but had been tucked into the smallest cargo pants available—a doable fit with the belt cinched up. The black combat boots worked once I’d rolled and stuffed an extra sock into each toe cavity.
When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I paused, taking in the new version of me. My insidious darkness had bled through to the outside. It showed not only in the mottled camouflage of the borrowed outfit, but in the ferocity of my gaze. My skin prickled, like the thousands of fractures that had been spreading in the last few months were solidifying, hardening to granite.
Escobar led me out of the locker room. Then, in tight formation and resembling a tactical team, me, Escobar, and Alec, joined by six soldiers armed with automatic weapons, strode down the halls of the sleek modern mansion. After a few minutes of echoing footfalls, we pushed through a roughhewn wooden door and began climbing another set of stairs located in the southwestern corner of the house, adjacent to and above the underground river cavern.
Escobar’s loose grip never left my elbow.
Irritated, I wrenched my arm away. But his hand followed my sudden motion, never releasing, until he gently guided my elbow midway between us again.
I scowled. “Don’t trust me?”
“Would you?”