Defector (11 page)

A
fter driving for almost an hour, Devon pulled onto a narrow forest road. The Acura jolted over the uneven pavement, and my stiff legs and back protested painfully. Devon zigzagged to avoid the myriad of potholes filled with muddy water. I could see the tension in his body, the way he held the tightness in his back and stomach. The car groaned every time we encountered a bump. It definitely wasn’t made for crossroad trips. The clouds broke open, and heavy raindrops pelted down on us. In that moment a charming house came into view: gray stucco facade, white shutters, and a porch with lilac flowers cascading almost to the ground.

When Devon brought us to a stop beside the three cars parked in the driveway, pebbles flew everywhere. The white door flew open, and Aunt Celia, dressed in a bright orange dress and a yellow apron, peeked out, frowning. Of course she wouldn’t recognize us as long as we were hidden behind the dirty windshield.

She doesn’t know you at all
, I reminded myself. After all, I didn’t look like Devon’s sister, Madison, anymore. Devon tried to smooth his hair. He’d nervously run his hands through it so often in the last hour that it was all over the place. I could only imagine what a mess I looked like. The ringlets that had fallen out of my ponytail clung to my neck and forehead. The moment Aunt Celia saw Devon, her face lit up. She glanced at me curiously as we walked up the porch before pulling Devon into a hug and kissing his cheek. “Devon, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, we’re just doing a bit of a road trip, and we thought we’d stop by,” Devon said lightly.

“And who is this young lady?” She smiled at me. She was paler than I remembered her and slightly older looking. Her blond hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked like someone who hadn’t slept in a while. Just like Devon, she’d recently lost someone she cared deeply about. That wasn’t the kind of thing you forgot quickly.

“Hi, I’m Tessa.” I shook her hand with a smile. “I’m a friend of Devon’s.”

“How lovely,” she said, but her voice was hollow, and she cast a nervous glance at Devon. “Come on in. Your uncle is inside.” The wall to our left was plastered with family photos. A stab of jealousy jolted through me at the sight of them. Devon had a loving family. He didn’t have to steal his own family photos from a forbidden file—they were displayed in the open for everyone to see. I reached for the folded photos in my jeans pocket. Just feeling them beneath my fingertips gave me a sense of belonging.

Devon’s hand on my lower back urged me to move on. I hurried through the house, but every step felt more like returning to a happy family. As we entered the living room, Uncle Scott looked away from the baseball game on TV. The spicy scent of cigars wafted over to me and burned in my nose. He still sported his trademark mustache that curled around his lips. “So where are you two heading?” he asked.

“Did you eavesdrop?” Devon asked with a grin. His uncle got up, hugged him, and patted his back.

“No need to. These walls are thin as paper,” Uncle Scott said in his deep, raspy voice. He turned to me and shook my hand. “So you are Tessa, the
friend
.”

He said “friend” like he didn’t believe for one second that that was what we were.

My cheeks heated. “That’s me. Nice to meet you, sir.”

“So where’s your road trip taking you?” Uncle Scott asked again as he sank back down into his chair. He turned the volume of the game down but didn’t turn the TV off.

Devon was about to reply, but I cut in before he could say the wrong thing. “Chicago,” I replied.

Uncle Scott nodded, but I wasn’t sure he actually believed me. Aunt Celia walked into the living room in that moment, carrying a tray with cookies and iced tea. “Is that your car, Tessa?” she asked as she set everything down on the table. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could detect a hint of suspicion in her voice. “Why don’t you kids take a seat?”

Devon and I sank down on the plush sofa. It smelled like the same flowery carpet cleaner his mother had used. “That’s actually one of the reasons why we’re here,” Devon began hesitantly. “I wanted to ask if we could borrow a car.”

“Why can’t you take Tessa’s car?” Uncle Scott asked.

“It’s really old, and the brakes aren’t working properly. We don’t want to drive such a long distance with it,” I lied quickly. Guilt flashed across Devon’s face. We couldn’t tell them the truth. They’d find out soon enough that the car was stolen and that we had lied to them.

Uncle Scott put his cigar down. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”

Devon and I exchanged a look. I turned back to Uncle Scott, smiling coyly. “We just wanted to enjoy a few days together before we have to be back at the academy.”

“So you’re also an artist, Tessa? Devon’s mother told me all about your art school,” Aunt Celia said as she handed us both a glass of iced tea.

Artists.
I had to stop myself from snorting. “Thanks,” I said. “I am an artist—a painter. But it’s not that interesting, actually.”

“So, anyway. Do you think you could loan us a car? We’d be back in a couple of days and could drop it off on our way back to campus,” Devon asked. I was glad that he was trying to steer away from the topic of school.

“Of course,” Uncle Scott said, his expression understanding. “Your aunt and I know this has been a very difficult time for you, Devon, and I’m glad to hear you’re taking some time off for yourself. You know we’re always here for you. Just don’t get in trouble, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” Devon said with a smile.

Aunt Celia wiped her eyes and excused herself before disappearing from view. I could hear her rummaging around in the kitchen.

Uncle Scott sighed. “She talked to your mother this morning—”

“Is she okay?” Devon demanded, tension slipping back into his body. I paused with the glass against my lips.

Uncle Scott frowned, his mustache turning down at the edges. “She’s all right. But they’re thinking about selling the house. Your mom can’t bear living there anymore. And it seems like your dad is always at work.” He sighed again and shook his head. “I guess that’s just his way of coping with things.” He stared distractedly at the TV.

I touched Devon’s leg to show him I was there for him. But his face was made of stone. “I’ll call them later.”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear from you.” Uncle Scott paused. “I can give you our old truck. And if you don’t have a place to stay, you can always camp out on the truck bed. Just make sure you’re safe. Let me get the keys. We won’t need it for the next few days, anyway.” He left the living room and returned a few minutes later with keys, a tent, and two rolled-up sleeping bags in his hands. He handed them over to Devon. “Just in case. That way you won’t have to freeze if you decide to sleep on the truck bed.”

“Why don’t you stay for lunch? You could even spend the afternoon here to relax a bit,” Aunt Celia said, entering the living room, looking more composed than before.

I could tell from the look on Devon’s face that he would have loved to take her up on the offer, but of course we couldn’t risk spending more than a couple of hours in the same place. Not to mention a relative’s house, which was where they’d look first. “Thank you so much for the offer, Aunt Celia, but we really have to hurry. We’re meeting up with friends of Tessa’s in Chicago, and we’re on a tight schedule,” he lied.

“Why don’t we—” Uncle Scott began, but the ringing of a phone cut him off. He excused himself and headed into the kitchen to get the phone. When he returned, he was talking loudly, his brows furrowed. “No, Linda, calm down.”

At the mention of Devon’s mother, my body flooded with anxiety. Devon rose from the sofa, dropped the sleeping bags, and took a step toward his uncle. “They’re here with us. No reason to worry. I can give you Devon right now.” Uncle Scott handed the phone to Devon, who lifted it to his ear after a moment of hesitation.

I shifted to the edge of the couch. This wasn’t good. Devon’s face fell. “Mom, I’m fine. Mom, please stop crying. Nothing has happened.” He lowered his voice for his next words. “Mom, are they still there?” He paled as he nodded. “Okay, Mom. Please trust me. Everything will be fine. I can’t talk much longer. But I’ll call you soon. Don’t listen to them, Mom, they’re making a big deal out of nothing. Trust me.” He dropped the phone on the table, his worried eyes settling on me. “Major and Summers are there.”

“T
hey told my parents that we’d run away and that I wasn’t stable. Why the fuck would they tell my parents something like that after what they’ve gone through in the last few weeks?” He smashed his fist down on the table. His glass toppled over, and tea spilled everywhere. Aunt Celia winced, her hands frozen on her cup as she watched us with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry. They want to make you feel guilty and bait you to come back,” I said softly. “And now Major knows we’re here. They’ll send the closest agent to come get us. We have to leave immediately.”

“So you are in trouble,” Uncle Scott said slowly.

Devon stared at his uncle as if he had only just remembered that we weren’t alone. “It’s complicated. But we aren’t in any trouble. We just need some time off. Everything is going to be fine.”

Devon and I stood up, picked up the sleeping bags and tent, swiped the keys from the table, and hurried out the door. Confusion showed on Uncle Scott’s and Aunt Celia’s faces as they followed us outside. “Where are you going? What’s going on?” Celia asked anxiously, but nobody said anything.

“What am I supposed to tell your parents? They’re worried about you,” Uncle Scott called after us.

Devon stopped in front of the black pickup truck, casting nervous glances back at his aunt and uncle. “I’m sorry for causing you trouble,” he whispered. “But I promise we’ll be fine.” I stood with my hands in my pockets, unsure what to do. I could tell that his aunt and uncle kept glancing at me like I was the one who’d led Devon astray. And it was kind of true. Without me, Devon would be living in headquarters, safe and sound, still blissfully unaware of the lies being spewed by Major and the FEA.

“Thanks for your help and for the iced tea,” I said before I slipped into the passenger seat. The inside of the car smelled of old smoke and wet dog, though I hadn’t seen a dog inside the house.

Devon slipped into the car and started the engine. He waved at his uncle and aunt as we pulled out of their driveway. They were watching us with stunned expressions. How long would it take for the FEA to come here and question them?

“Damn it!” Devon yelled, slamming his fist down on the steering wheel. As soon as we were out of his relatives’ line of sight, he stepped on the gas and we sped down the bumpy road.

Devon’s knuckles were white from his grip around the steering wheel. “Do you think the FEA will do something to my parents?” he asked.

I shook my head immediately. “No,” I said firmly. Devon glanced at me from the corner of his eye like he needed more evidence to believe it. “The FEA isn’t like that. Maybe they manipulate and lie when it’s to their advantage, but they’d never hurt innocents. They’ll probably try to use your parents as leverage to make you feel guilty or make you do something rash and stupid, but they won’t actually do them any harm.” And though I didn’t trust the FEA and Major, I knew it was true. Major had certain morals. Sometimes he bent them if it suited him, but that certainly wouldn’t make him hurt Devon’s family.

“I don’t like the thought of Major talking to my parents. He’ll just tell them more lies and make them worry. They’ve been through so much and now this . . .” He trailed off, swallowing hard. His eyes darted to me again. “Do you think we could check up on them? To make sure they’re all right and so they know that I’m okay too?”

I hesitated. I could tell how important this was for Devon. “We definitely can’t go there. They’ll probably have the house under surveillance. Same for your dad’s vet practice. It’s too dangerous. But we could stop at a public phone later to call your parents and try to lay their worries to rest.”

Devon’s shoulders slumped, though I knew he had expected me to say that. He looked so sad. I touched his arm. His muscles were tense under my fingertips. “Devon, we need to stay focused. We have to talk to my mother’s ex-boyfriend in Detroit and find my mother, that’s our top priority. Holly needs us. And I really believe your parents aren’t in danger. I promise you they’ll be fine. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know,” he said and covered my hand with his. “How long will it take us to get there?”

“Well, I think the drive to Detroit will take thirty-six hours. But we’ll have to rest. I could drive, of course, but I don’t have a license, so we better not get caught.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind driving. We don’t even have to look for a motel. We’ll just use the sleeping bags my uncle gave us. That way fewer people will see our faces.” He glanced at me. “Why don’t you just turn into someone else? Nobody would know that it’s you.”

“But Major would still know if he saw me with you.”

“So what? I could change my appearance. You know, dye my hair black, wear contact lenses, and dress differently. And Abel’s Army would still be thrown off the scent.”

I stared at Devon’s lovely blond hair. “Maybe a wig would work too. You could buy several wigs and quickly change your look, if needed.”

“A wig?” He laughed. The giddy sound eased the knot in my stomach. “Are you serious?”

I smiled, but then I thought of something. “I don’t remember which of the people’s appearances that I’ve stored in my DNA I’ve used during practice before. If I use a person I’ve been around Alec or Summers or Major, they could still make the connection.”

“Then you’ll have to find new people whose appearance you could use.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’ll just have to bump a few people on our next rest stop and make sure that I touch their skin,” I said.

“So that’s all it takes? Touching someone’s skin?” His voice had changed, and I knew what he was thinking of. “Did you touch her?” he asked quietly.

I stared out of the passenger window. He didn’t have to tell me whom he meant. I knew. “Yeah, I had to. I visited her in the hospital a few days before she died.” I winced. Devon and his parents hadn’t found out about Madison’s death until after the mission was over. Sometimes I wondered if Devon wished he’d been there for his twin sister’s last moments.

“How does it feel?” Devon asked hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer.

“You mean, to incorporate a person’s data?” A moment too late I realized how cold that must have sounded to Devon, but I couldn’t take the words back.

“Yeah, if that’s what you call it,” he said. There was an edge in his voice as he kept his gaze trained on the windshield.

“It’s hard to describe. I can feel my body absorb the information. It’s a bit like a charge, like a flow of energy. My body memorizes the DNA, and most of the time my shape is eager to change immediately.”

“How was it to touch Maddy? Was it different because she was . . .”

I didn’t know how to answer him. I wasn’t really sure if her case had felt much different. That day had been too stressful for me to remember every detail.

Devon rubbed a hand across his eyes, and a heavy silence fell over us. I thought it might suffocate me. But I didn’t know what to do.

After a few minutes, Devon cleared his throat. “I’ve been wondering since I found out about your Variation: Have you ever tried to change into an animal?” I could tell that it was difficult for him to make his voice sound calm and light.

My lips turned up in a shaky smile. “Oh no. My Variation doesn’t work that way. I don’t feel anything when I touch animals. My body definitely doesn’t absorb their data. It only works on other humans.”

“Why do you think that is?” Devon asked, his shoulders losing some of their tension.

“I assume that absorbing another species’ data is unnatural.”

“As opposed to turning into another human being?” I glanced at Devon’s face to make sure that he hadn’t said it with resentment, but he gave nothing away.

“I know it seems wrong,” I said quietly.

Devon shook his head. “No, it’s not. I didn’t want to make you feel bad. We can’t help our Variations. It’s not perfectly normal to be able to heal people. I know that.”

“Yeah, normal’s got nothing to do with us,” I joked. Devon leaned back in his seat, the last of his tension disappearing from his body. “But honestly, I definitely can’t turn into an animal. I’ve tried.”

“You have?” Devon’s eyes flashed to mine, filled with curiosity. “Let me guess: a cute little puppy.”

I snorted. “Hell no. You couldn’t be further from the truth.” I raised my eyebrows in a silent challenge.

Devon flexed his arms. “I like a good challenge.” He ran his eyes over me, like that would give him a clue. Did I resemble any kind of animal? If he said hippo or hyena, I’d kick his ass. I felt my neck flush when his gaze hovered on me much longer than it should have. “A sloth.”

“Now you’re trying to insult me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Dimples flashed on his cheeks.

“Hand on my heart. I’d never do something like that.” But I could see from the look on his face that he was looking for an animal that would really make me crazy.

“A spider,” he guessed. Expectation flickered on his face. Did he think I’d start screaming like a little girl?

“Nope. I think my body would implode if I tried to turn myself into something that small.”

He frowned. “Aren’t you afraid of spiders?”

“Why would I be? Except for a few species, they’re perfectly harmless. They can’t hurt me.”

“I know,” he said. “But most girls are scared of them. What about bugs in general?”

I shook my head.

“Centipedes?”

I shook my head, suppressing a grin.

“Cockroaches?” I shook my head again. He hit the steering wheel with his palm. “Oh, come on. There has to be something you’re terrified of!”

There were plenty of things I was terrified of. But creepy-crawlies weren’t one of them. There were worse things in this world than vermin with eight legs and four eyes. But I wasn’t going to tell Devon that, or the light mood would go up in flames.

“Sorry. It looks like I’m a freak in more than one way.”

“Actually, I think it’s kind of cool,” Devon said. “So will you tell me now?”

“A chameleon.”

“That’s it? But with your Variation, you’re practically a chameleon already.”

“Not really. A chameleon can adapt to the color of its surroundings. It can blend in. That was something I never managed.”

“But you seemed to blend in just fine in Livingston,” he said. And I realized he was right.

• • •

We’d been on the road for more than eight hours when Devon pulled the car into a small rest area surrounded by forest. Dusk was turning our surroundings gray. He parked the car in a tree-covered spot that was shielded from view, and we got out of the truck’s cab. Despite it being spring, the evenings and nights were icy. I pulled on my winter jacket as I scrambled onto the bed of the truck. Devon swung himself up beside me, and together we pitched the tent, so we’d be protected from wind and weather. We crawled into our sleeping bags. The inside of the tent smelled like the great outdoors—reminiscent of bonfires and mold. My nose began tingling.

There wasn’t much room in the tent, so Devon and I sat pressed against each other. “Do you think it’ll be freezing tonight?” I whispered.

Devon zipped the sleeping bag up to his chest and turned on the flashlight. Behind the thin material of the tent, I could see that the last sunrays had disappeared. “It might be, but these sleeping bags withstand temperatures far below the freezing point. We’ll be fine.”

I nodded. With Devon’s side pressed against mine, his body warmth creeping into me, I knew we would be. “So you grew up in Detroit?” Devon asked.

“Not really. I grew up in a lot of places,” I said. Devon’s eyes searched my face, and after a moment he nodded as if he understood, but I doubted that was the case.

“So what about your mother? If she’s a Variant, as you said, is it possible that she could take on other appearances like you do?”

The red stamps reading “Volatile” flashed in my mind. There was so much I didn’t know about my mother. I knew more facts about Devon’s family than I did about my own. “Her Variation is regeneration. I don’t think that entails changing into other people. I think she can just make her cells renew themselves, so she looks young again.”

Devon frowned. It was strange how good it felt to be shoulder to shoulder with him. I’d never felt more alone than when I’d found out about Alec’s and the FEA’s betrayal, but it was comforting to learn I still had Devon. “Would you even recognize her if she looked, like, twenty?”

I tried to recall my mother’s face the last time I’d seen her, but that had been more than two years ago. I leaned forward, heaved my bag onto my legs, and pulled out the photo of my mother that I’d found in the file—but kept the photos with Abel and my brother, Zachary, hidden. “I think it would actually be easier for me if she looked younger, back when life was made of happy memories. The truth is, I hardly remember how she looked two years ago.” I handed the photo to Devon. He shined the flashlight on it, his eyes scrunching up to get a better look. “I was one in that photo,” I explained, “and to the best of my knowledge, my mother was in her twenties.”

Devon’s expression softened. “You and your mom look so happy here.”

I glanced over at it—at the loving smile on my mother’s face, at her smooth skin, at the way she held me close to her. My smile was wide, showing off my first few teeth, and I looked like I couldn’t be happier anywhere but on my mother’s lap. “I suppose we were happy at that time.”

“So what happened?” He handed the photo back to me, and I stuffed it into my bag, where it couldn’t bring up hurtful memories.

I’d asked myself that question so often and always come up short, but now I thought that I might know the answer. “We moved a lot. Later on I thought it was because my mother was worried someone might find out about my Variation, but now I think she might have been running from Abel’s Army.”

“If she was so worried about Abel’s Army, why do you think she didn’t return to the FEA? You said she’d lived in headquarters for a few years, right?” Devon shifted, and the friction of our shoulders rubbing against each other gave me goose bumps. It was still weird to be this close to Devon; I’d always thought Alec would be the one to stand by me if anything went downhill. I never would have thought that he might be the reason why it went downhill in the first place.