Whisper (Whisper #1)(38)

I … have no idea what he means by that.

“She goes by ‘Jane,’” Cami says.

Her words are soft, and I can hear in them that she’s still upset about my earlier brush-off.

Enzo gives a one-shouldered shrug. “‘JD,’ ‘Jane’ — whatever.”

“Neither,” Ward interjects, his tone hard. “She goes by her real name. If she refuses to tell us what that is, then you’ll address her as ‘Six-Eight-Four.’”

All eyes look to me, and saliva pools in my mouth. I swallow it down and keep my lips sealed. I don’t care if I can talk safely in this room. They can’t have who I am. I even convince myself that I don’t care if they call me “Six-Eight-Four.” It’s just a name — I won’t let it upset me. Because my real name, my identity, is the only thing left in the world that truly belongs to me. I won’t give them that.

“Let’s, uh, let’s just go with ‘Jane’ for now,” Enzo says when it becomes clear that Ward and I are at a standoff. “I’m sure JD will update us when she’s gotten to know us all better.”

Fat chance, Enzo. But I still send him a grateful look. I don’t know where he fits in all this, but at least it seems like he’s on my side.

Keeda jumps in before Ward can argue. “Why are we here, Landon?” Her arms are crossed defiantly over her chest. “You said you wanted to use us as examples?”

“Jane —” Ward’s biting inflection speaks volumes “— is naive to the world of Speakers. She knows nothing about us, about what we can do, about how we do it. You’re some of the strongest Exodus recruits down here. The director thinks a demonstration might help her understand better than a lecture.”

Crew raises his pierced eyebrow. “She doesn’t know what she can do? How’s that possible? Has she lived under a rock?”

“Something like that,” Ward says.

I wonder if he’s recalling my prison cell as clearly as I am.

“It seems she’s aware of what she can do,” he adds, “but she’s ignorant to the abilities — and limitations — of other Speakers.”

“What can she do?” Keeda asks, looking at me with curiosity.

“That doesn’t matter,” Ward says, his tone firm, “since you’re here to show her what you can do.”

“Why don’t you try explaining it to her first,” Cami says.

Her voice is stronger now, and the hurt has been replaced by something fiercer. It takes me a moment to realize that she sounds angry — at Ward.

“Like someone should have done, oh, I don’t know, maybe when she first arrived at Lengard?” she continues. “It might have been a better idea than locking her up in a prison cell for years. Did anyone think of that?”

“Cami, enough,” Ward warns.

She throws her hands out. “No, Landon. It’s not enough. If even half of what I’ve heard she’s been through is true, it will never be enough.”

He regards her through narrowed eyes. “Are you done?”

She returns his gaze, and we all wait to see what will happen next — me most of all. But when Ward doesn’t waver, Cami makes an aggravated sound, spins on her heel and storms from the room.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Silence descends after Cami’s abrupt exit. Then Enzo clears his throat and says, “Right. Well. To play the mediator, here are the basics, JD — er, Jane. The real quick version.”

He ignores the glowering Ward and hurries on with his explanation.

“For whatever reason, Speakers don’t all have the same ability with words. But we fit under three main categories — physical, mental and emotional — even if our actual abilities differ within those labels. Take Crew, for example.” He jerks his chin toward the pierced guy. “His gift is a physical one, and while we don’t usually label Speakers with specific names because there are so many different kinds of abilities, we still like to affectionately call him a ‘Slayer.’”

Ignoring my puzzled look, Enzo turns to the Mohawked guy. “Sock it to me, Crew. I’ll hit Cami up later. Just do me a favor and keep it shallow.”

I don’t understand their interaction until Crew sends a smirk in my direction and strikes a finger through the air. “Slash,” he says, and light surges out of him.

I gasp when the light collides with Enzo, causing a deep cut to open on his upper arm. He’s wearing a sleeveless tank, so I know my eyes haven’t imagined the magical injury on his dark skin that appeared from nothing.

Enzo hisses out a curse and tears a strip off the bottom of his shirt, using it to stem the flow of blood. “What the hell, man! You call that shallow?”

Crew shrugs. “Like you said, Cami will fix you when you find her. Don’t be such a baby.”

Enzo grumbles some very unflattering words and ties the cloth tightly around his arm. Even with the pressure, blood quickly soaks through the makeshift bandage, and my insides churn unpleasantly. Not just from the sight of all that red, but also from the power Crew just displayed and the delight he seemed to take in doing so.

“Some Speakers have very little respect for others.” Enzo throws a glare at Crew and turns to me again. “People like Crew can use words to damage others physically, mentally or emotionally, depending on which of the three categories they fit under.”