Boundless (Unearthly, #3)(76)

The words hang between us for a second, and then he leans in, strokes my cheek with the back of his hand, and kisses me, gently, without pressure. He keeps his lips against mine for a long moment, brushing softly. Heat rises between us. Time slows. I see the future he imagines: always together, always there for each other. We are partners. Best friends. Lovers. We travel the world together. We build a life with each other, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. We raise Web as our own, and if trouble comes knocking, we face it. Together.

We belong together.

He pulls away. His eyes search mine, the flecks of gold like sparks, asking me a question.

“I …,” I start, but I have no idea how I’m going to answer. I want to say yes, but something’s stopping me.

My cell phone starts to ring.

He sighs. “Answer it,” he says. “Go on.”

I answer the phone.

“All right, kid,” Billy says, not even bothering with a greeting. “It’s time to come in. Can you be in the meadow by Friday night?”

I look at Christian. Should we go back to Wyoming? It’s safe here, where nobody knows where to find us. Web’s safe here. We could stay.

“Sure, why not?” he says, too lightly. “What have we got to lose?”

So much, I think then. There is still so very much to lose.





16


CLARA LUX IN OBSCURO


As far as I can tell, every single member of the congregation is gathered around the campfire by the time we arrive in the meadow on Friday night, and when we step into the circle, me cradling Web in my arms, everyone goes quiet.

I’ve never seen so many worried faces.

“Well,” says Stephen, after a minute. Apparently he’s the master of ceremonies at tonight’s event. “Have a seat, both of you.”

Great. No small talk, no good to see you in one piece—straight to the interrogation.

People scoot to make room for us at the front of the circle, and we hunker down in the grass. I pull the blanket more tightly around Web, like that will shield him from all the curious stares he’s getting. He reaches a tiny hand out in the direction of the fire, his golden eyes reflecting the light.

“Before we open this up for discussion,” Corbett Phibbs says, stepping forward, “we’d like to hear what happened, in your own words. That way we’ll all be sure to understand.”

I let Christian tell it. I struggle to keep my face passive as I listen to him relate the events without embellishment, the way we talked about on the drive over, without getting too much into the gritty details. Christian keeps it simple: We showed up. Asael wanted Angela’s baby. He told one of his minions to kill Anna Zerbino, then left, taking Angela, leaving the others to burn the place. We found where Angela had hidden Web, fought our way out of the Garter, and fled. The bare bones of what happened.

After that the congregation peppers us with some questions Christian doesn’t know how to answer. “How did Asael know about the baby?” and “How did Angela know to hide the baby before the Black Wings arrived?” and, finally, “How did you fight them off?”

“With a glory sword,” Christian replies, which makes them collectively gasp. I guess how to wield a glory sword isn’t common knowledge among them. “My uncle taught me.”

The first of the lies we plan to tell tonight.

It sucks not being wholly honest with the congregation, but if there’s anything that Christian and I have had ingrained in us by our parents, it’s that we should never admit to being Triplare. Not to anyone. We don’t even want to let on that we know the Triplare exist. That’s why Corbett asked us to tell our story this way, so we can spin it the way we need to, without revealing ourselves, or Web. Only Corbett and Billy know the truth.

“So the girl’s body they found in the Garter isn’t Angela,” someone confirms. I locate the source of the voice: Julia. The voice of dissent every time we had a meeting last year. Not my favorite person.

“No. Asael took Angela,” Christian answers.

“Why? What would he want with her?” Stephen asks.

“She’s his daughter,” Christian says. “At least, that’s the way he was talking. Like he’d been keeping tabs on her.”

My throat closes briefly. Asael had been using Phen to keep tabs on Angela. All that time, all of what she felt for Phen, all that she thought she knew about him, was a lie. He was following orders. He didn’t seem to enjoy following them, but that doesn’t change the truth. She was a job to him.

If I thought Stephen’s expression was serious before, it’s apocalyptically serious now.

“I see,” he says. “And who is the father of Angela’s child?”

“Some guy at school,” I reply quickly. Lie number two.

Stephen frowns. “Some guy?”

“His name’s Pierce. He lives in our dorm. But it doesn’t matter who the father is,” I say, my voice louder than usual. “We need to find Angela. We need to get her back. Web needs her. So I’m really hoping you’ve got some awesome kind of plan.”

Silence. Even Corbett looks uncomfortable for a minute.

“We do have a plan,” he says gently. “But it involves the baby, not Angela.”

“What do you mean? How can it involve the baby and not Angela?” I hug Web tighter to me.