Siege of Shadows (Effigies #2)(80)

I was wrong about everything.

I touched my lips, lips that had touched his, my fingers trembling. Liars and traitors were everywhere. I was surrounded by them. Brendan had taken the shattered steel neck-band in as evidence, and I was to be sent to the London facility immediately to check out the back of my neck. But even though I needed to know what had happened to me, I couldn’t trust them. I couldn’t run away either. I couldn’t hide. What could I do?

I lowered my head into my hands as soon as I felt the tears budding.

“Maia.”

Lifting it again, I looked down the line of parked cars in front of the estate. Naomi called me from the back of a sleek black Rolls-Royce. She waved at me to come over.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Prince?” I asked once I finally reached her.

The window was down, but she kept the door open. That didn’t mean I felt welcome coming forward. Naomi sat rigidly in the backseat, her long, sleek black hair draping down her chest like a blanket.

“Somewhat. I’m still shaken.”

I could see that. Her pale hands trembled against her lap.

Did she know? About Rhys?

“Mrs. Prince . . .” I looked around, making sure nobody could hear me, and lowered my voice. “The last time I scried, Natalya told me to talk to you. She gave me your name specifically.”

“She did.” It was something between a statement and a question.

“What Natalya said to you earlier . . .”

Naomi’s bottom lip curled inward. “Yes. Come inside.”

I hesitated but eventually listened. Whatever Natalya blamed her for, she’d sent me to Naomi for a reason. The woman shifted over to make room. Once I was inside, she rolled up the tinted windows. We were alone.

“Please tell me you know something.” I gripped the back of the passenger seat. “What the hell is going on here? Saul is out there. Jessie said something big is gonna happen. And he’s got people helping him, soldiers with abilities like him, like us, but I don’t know who the hell I’m supposed to trust anymore.” My eyes watered as I thought about Rhys, our kiss. The burning sensation still hadn’t quite disappeared from the back of my neck. “The Sect—”

“Can’t be trusted,” Naomi finished quietly. She kept her expression calm as she looked up at me, but she couldn’t bury the urgency in her eyes.

I frowned, studying her carefully. “Who are you?”

Her features were stone as she answered. “A member of the High Council of the Sect,” she said. “From one of the so-called Seven Houses.”

“Seven Houses . . .” I pressed my back against the door. A member of the Council. Suddenly, I realized why her voice sounded familiar. She’d spoken that day in the cathedral when Blackwell had made me pledge allegiance to a broken institution on my knees like a servant. Hers was the only voice of reason, of kindness, among those that filled the hall with jeers.

“So your husband’s the director of a Sect division while you’re from some family dynasty of Council members?” With one director son and another son who was a murderer. A derisive laugh almost escaped my throat. Interesting family.

“No. There’s no dynasty,” Naomi corrected. “The ‘Seven Houses’ moniker is a red herring for secrecy’s sake. Council members are elected into their positions, though there are some—very few—exceptions. . . .”

Naomi twisted her wedding band around her middle finger as if by habit. “Something is happening . . . within the Council and within the Sect. Saul, the terrorist. Those soldiers. They’re all a part of it. That woman Jessie was right. Something terrible is going to happen. I can feel it.” She looked at me. “And you girls, you Effigies. You have to help me stop it.”

My mouth dried, and my body began trembling. I didn’t want to show how scared I was, but I couldn’t stop my voice from shaking when I asked, “How?”

“Not here.” She flicked her head toward the window behind me. An agent had just walked out of the front doors of Blackwell’s mansion holding a set of car keys. “We can’t use phones, either. It’s too dangerous. I bought Natalya’s home in Madrid. Nobody knows, not even my husband. In exactly four days at sundown, meet me there, but make sure you’re alone. I’ll tell you everything. I’m sure you’ve been waiting too, haven’t you? For the truth.”

The truth. Yes. Ever since I first saw Natalya die in front of me. Ever since her parents warned me against the Sect in Argentina. If I had any chance in hell of stopping Saul for good, I needed to know how. But remembering the anguish crushing Natalya from the inside, remembering her pain as she stared at the woman through my eyes. It was the pain of betrayal.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“I understand your hesitation.” Naomi must have seen my hesitation. “And it’s up to you to decide one way or another. I’m just afraid this will all go too far before we can stop it. But before you go”—her hand firmly seized mine the moment I moved for the door—“there’s one thing I need to tell you. I want to be honest with you before you choose to move forward with this.”

“What is it?”

The driver came closer.

“Natalya’s death . . . My son was just the gun. And he . . . he is who he is because of the sins of his parents. Because I was too weak to protect him.” Naomi’s features pinched as she struggled against a sudden well of tears that never fell. She blinked them away. “He was the gun. But a trigger can’t pull itself.”