Siege of Shadows (Effigies #2)(83)
“We have this.” From her pocket, Belle slipped out the white flash drive she’d pried out of Philip’s hand. “I’ve been trying to fiddle with it with no luck.”
“We just have to find a way to crack it, then,” Lake said. “Belle said it herself: We have to get ahead of Saul, right?”
“Yeah? How?” challenged Chae Rin from behind the couch. “None of us can do it. We’re not about to take this to the Sect after they tried to fry Maia’s brain. And if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t even think we’re safe here anymore. We need to run the next chance we get.”
“Run where?” Lake mumbled.
Belle turned the drive around in her hand, considering it carefully. “We have to give this to someone. Someone we can trust.”
“No shit,” said Chae Rin. “But do you know anyone who can do it?”
“Wait, yes!” I stood up so fast, Lake’s legs slid off my lap, her left heel banging the coffee table. “Sorry,” I said when she started cursing in pain, “but I know. I know someone!”
I wasn’t sure why I didn’t think of it before. Just thinking of him now, of the possibility of seeing him again, made the weight on my chest lighten for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Uncle Nathan!” I said.
Chae Rin cocked her head to the side. “Who?”
“My uncle Nathan! He’s supersmart. He’s one of those tech geniuses that work New York’s Needle at the MDCC—the Municipal Defense Control Center.” I said all this with a kind of breathless urgency that sent the words flying out of my mouth in rapid-fire succession. “Hell, he chose to work at the MDCC. He had people in the government practically throwing jobs at him, but he said he wanted to stay in New York and ‘take it easy.’ If anyone can do it, he—ow!”
Chae Rin slapped me in the back of my head. And just when my neck was starting to heal. “Okay, you were waiting until now to mention this?”
“Well, I’ve had a lot on my mind,” I answered, my teeth clenched. “Besides, with Sibyl’s family ban, I didn’t think I could contact him even if I wanted to. I mean, despite everything, I’m technically still in the middle of my training period.”
“Well, Sibyl’s not the director anymore,” Lake said.
“No . . . ,” I said. “No, she’s not.”
It’d been two months since I’d seen him: my only tether to the life I used to live before monsters swallowed it whole. After everything that’d happened, if I could find any excuse to see him—it didn’t matter what it was.
But soon the corners of my mouth sagged, my hands slowly lowering. The thought of Uncle Nathan filled me with the kind of hope that these days wasn’t easy to come by. There was only one problem.
“If we walk right up to him and hand him this flash drive, we’re putting him in danger,” I said, sitting back down. “I mean, let’s say he cracks it and the Sect or Saul or whoever finds out. What if it traces back to him? Saul is after me. What if I lead him right to my uncle?”
“Well, obviously we can’t just walk up to your place and hand it to him.” Chae Rin thought. “We have to meet him somewhere secret.”
A rendezvous at a secret location. Well, Uncle Nathan was obsessed with spy movies, so I suspected he wouldn’t mind temporarily living in one.
With one sharp jolt, Lake sat up from her slouch and excitedly shook my shoulders. “The TVCAs! They’re this Sunday!”
“Oh god, not that again.” Chae Rin rolled her eyes. “Yes, Lake, we still remember, and sadly, we’re still going. But we’re kind of in the middle of talking about something here.”
“Yeah, and I’m talking about the same thing.” Lake flashed us her phone displaying the main website of the awards show. The sleek black-and-red logo popped out at me first, but underneath it in white letters: 299 QUEEN STREET WEST, TORONTO, ONTARIO. “I’ll ask my agent to get him a reservation at our hotel under a pseudonym. He’s too busy ironing out the details to my single promo to ask questions one way or another. He won’t think twice about it.”
“Thank you, Lake,” I said. “Really.”
I looked at my phone lying flat on the table, wedged between the pizza box and the bowl of fruit. All the times I thought about calling his number, knowing that he wouldn’t pick up under the Sect’s orders. Sibyl had said it was supposed to make me stronger, more focused. But right now, I needed him.
I just had to make sure I didn’t get him killed in the process.
20
WE ARRIVED IN TORONTO FOR the teen Viewers’ Choice Awards at noon, just seven hours before the street party–style event was supposed to start. They had already blocked off Queen Street and were setting up the barricades behind which all those shrieking fans would be having camera-friendly meltdowns.
Me and June had watched (well, streamed) the party every year as the mostly American pop stars, models, and anyone with a semipopular social media account marched down the red carpet–covered street and begged for attention. Always amusing.
But now that I would be joining the parade of self-absorbed celebrities basking in the adulation, I was too preoccupied and paranoid to let any of it sink in. Under the unforgiving sun, I kept peering around as we hopped out of the Sect van and entered the expensive hotel, scanning the crowds of Effigy fans that had gathered there for Jessie and her personal army of zombies. All I saw were signs, tears, and flashing camera phones.