Liquid Lies (44 page)

A half-second later her father collapsed to his knees, gasping. He clutched at his shoulder where blood seeped across his pin-striped Italian suit. Then his ass hit the ground. She’d never seen him look so small or so lost.

“Dad,” she began, but all her words ran out, because that was who he was again—her father—and the enormity of the space between them became achingly apparent. He closed his eyes, hissing through his pain.

Jonah Yarbrough’s body twitched, then went utterly still. Beneath him, blood turned the asphalt to glittering ebony.

She looked at Reed, who held up his hands and shook his head. Together, they swiveled to Griffin.

Griffin’s gun was still outstretched, death reflected in his dark features, his eyes black orbs. Gwen stumbled over to him. “Hey,” she said, pressing down his gun arm then prying the weapon from his fingers.

“Stars,” he murmured. “I shot them.” He blinked and shook his head as though waking from a dream. “Gwen, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known the Chairman was setting a trap when he sent me away on that shit job. I should’ve guessed.”

“Don’t. We both should’ve known.”

“Headlights!” David called from his position on the slope.

The Chairman’s reinforcements. More Ofarians, whose phones had also gone off moments ago.

“Guys.” Reed trotted up. “What next?”

She scanned the length of the caravan. “We’re taking everything with us. The vehicles, the
Mendacia
, everything.” She’d figure out what the hell to do with it later, it just couldn’t be left there. “Except the guards. They stay.”

Griffin snapped his fingers at one of his men and ordered him to load all the
Mendacia
boxes into one of the drivable SUVs.

“I’ve got the semi,” Reed said.

She did a double take. “You can drive a semi?”

His small smile hinted at the dimple. “Where to?”

She looked to the southwest. “The lake.”

Griffin radioed Sam in the pickup truck atop the hill. “Lake Tahoe. Bring Genesai.”

Reed jogged for the semi and Gwen watched him go, amazed he was still here. Amazed he’d remained on their side, even after Griffin had locked him up and she’d kept him there.

Griffin went to the Chairman and bound his hands. The
nelicoda
-laced bullet and the wound it had inflicted might keep him from trying to run, but Gwen didn’t blame Griffin for being extra careful. Still, the sight of her father, injured and defeated and shackled, destroyed the image of the hero she’d created over her lifetime.

A very small part of her wanted to apologize to him. She got over that really fast. “We have a lot more to say to one another,” she told him. But the prospect of that made her heartsick. He lifted his chin in his signature gesture, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t bristle under his intense look of disappointment.

“I still love you, Dad, despite all this. And I did the right thing.”

“I love you, too, kiddo,” he whispered. Or maybe she just heard it in her head, because she wanted to.

She went to stand next to Griffin, who was checking on the disabled Ofarians. She lifted her voice to address everyone. “Backup is on its way. They’ll help you because they’re Ofarians, and if they don’t, they’ll answer to me. I want the Chairman taken into custody and all remaining members of the Board arrested. As protector to the Translator and security liaison to the Board, I give Griffin seniority over all Ofarian soldiers.”

Griffin picked up her cue and pointed at the slope behind him. “Two of your own have fallen. Don’t forget them. And do not let the Chairman’s backup go after Gwen. Let her do what she has to do.”

Gwen turned to watch the last of the
Mendacia
being transferred from the van to an SUV, when one of the Ofarian caravan guards grabbed her hand.

“It’s true, isn’t it.” He breathed hard; he’d taken a hit high in the thigh. “You didn’t make this up. These photos are real.”

It was like going back in time, stepping outside her body and looking into her own face the day Xavier had dragged her through the Plant.

“I wish it weren’t true,” she said. “But it is.”

The soldier sank into himself, eyes dropping to his blood spattered on the road shoulder.

She lifted her face to the semi, Reed poised behind the huge steering wheel.

Griffin touched her arm. “You want to ride with him?”

“Not with Reed. With the Tedrans. They need to know what’s happened. What’s going to happen.”

He nodded tightly. “Then go. Hurry.”

The headlights of the Ofarian backup drew closer and closer. Even with Griffin’s orders to stand down, who knew what they’d do when they saw the injured Chairman. Gwen needed to get the hell out of there.

She ran for the back of the semi and pulled up when she saw Xavier propped heavily against the trailer, the events of that night clearly riding high and hard on his back.

“I saw everything.” His voice was full of wonder, full of regret. “You…you…”

“No time for that,” she said, stealing Reed’s words. “Boost me up. I’m sending you home.”

FORTY

The semi-trailer was cold despite the press of hundreds of bodies
around her. To stave off claustrophobia, Gwen talked the length of the bumpy ride. No one else said a word. She spoke in Tedranish, outlining her whole story, leaving nothing out. Above everything, the Tedrans deserved honesty. It was too dark inside the trailer to gauge their reactions. Nora stood somewhere in the mass, but wherever she was, she remained quiet.

Xavier wedged himself through the crowd, unlocking neutralizer handcuffs one by one, and the floor became luminescent with tiny green lights. The Tedrans stood there, confused. They didn’t know what to do with their freedom. They had no idea that, as soon as they were well away from the neutralizer magic, the glamour was now theirs to command as they willed.

When the truck finally stopped, the Tedrans pushed Gwen to the door. The back rolled up and this time it was Reed on the ground and her inside. He looked up at her, extended a hand, and helped her down.

The moment her feet hit the ground, he tugged his hand from hers. The expression on his face was maddeningly blank. She owed him a zillion explanations, none of which she could give now.

Xavier hopped down next, and together the three of them helped the Tedrans out of the truck.

The semi had braked diagonally across an empty harbor parking lot on the shore of Lake Tahoe. A sign at the lot entrance read:
NO PARKING BETWEEN 2 AND 6 A.M
. It was closing in on three, and the parking spaces were all taken up by milling, nervous Tedrans.

It had been beyond difficult to try to explain the concept of a spaceship, let alone a lake, to people who’d never even seen the stars. Now the Tedrans huddled together in a wide-open space, pointing at mundane things like road signs and bushes. Some cried, bemoaning the loss of walls. It was close to freezing outside, and none had been in a temperature other than seventy-two degrees.

One third of them were children. None, save for Nora, was elderly. Many of the teenage girls were pregnant.

Xavier swept around the outside of the group, murmuring reassuring words, trying to keep the group calm. Telling them to trust Gwen.

She heard him ask several women if they knew which kids they’d made together. The women only shook their heads, looking as lost as he. But by gazing over the towheads and the taller ones, Gwen could take a pretty good guess. She sincerely hoped they’d figure it out.

Gwen finally caught sight of Nora in the throng. She was holding children’s hands, smiling, smoothing hair. Whatever misguided plans Nora might have had, she was still a leader. She still wanted her people to be happy and free. So had Ian Carroway.

Adine milled around, too, speaking Tedranish to confused adults, but looking overwhelmed and unsure herself.

Reed stood alone, off to the side, but she instead went for Griffin and David, who were hopping out of the SUV that held all the
Mendacia
.

“We need a boat,” she told them. “I don’t care if we have to make a million trips in a dinghy. Just get something.”

“I’ll handle that,” Griffin said. To David he ordered, “Take the SUV that doesn’t have the
Mendacia
and get the rest of our guys back to San Francisco. You’re on point for going after the Board. I also want anyone and everyone associated with the Plant—doctors, guards, fucking janitors—and I want it done yesterday.”

David nodded and went off without question. The pickup truck carrying Genesai swerved into the lot. Sam killed the engine, hopped into the SUV with David and the others, and it sped south.

“They’re leaving?” Xavier said quietly, just behind her.

She glanced at Griffin, who was already halfway across the lot, heading for the very few remaining boats tethered to the harbor cans. She just realized what he’d done.

“Yes,” she said to Xavier. “It’s better this way. The last thing your people need is a bunch of Ofarians circling them, telling them what to do.”

Xavier sighed, and the sound was saturated with gratitude and relief.

She looked at the expanse of weathered wood stretching out into the black, choppy water. “I need everyone on the dock. Reed?” She turned to find he’d edged closer, arms across his chest.

“Yes?” That voice, with no challenge, sank deep into her bones.

“Can you help get everyone to the docks?”

She’d explained to the Tedrans that Reed was a harmless Primary, so they listened as he started to guide them across the road. Xavier moved to follow but Gwen took his arm and held him back. “I need your help, too. But with something else.”

She told him what she needed. He nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

Genesai still sat in the pickup, hands splayed on the glass, staring out at the water. She rushed to the vehicle and opened the door. Off balance, he tumbled out and hit the ground in a pile of awkward limbs. She lifted him to his feet, looped her arm through his elbow, and said, “Come with me. I’m about to bring up your ship.”

She and the pilot pressed through the crowd of Tedrans until they came to the very end of the dock. Genesai shook with anticipation.

Xavier was already there, standing at the head of a line of seven Tedrans. Of all the Tedrans present, those seven looked the oldest and healthiest. Xavier nodded to her. All was ready on his end.

Reed stood to her right. Slowly she turned to him. His chin dipped low. Those intense eyes didn’t blink as they searched her face.

“I didn’t want to bring you into this,” she said. “I really didn’t.”

He clenched his jaw hard.

“You said I used you. Maybe I did. And I’m sorry. So very, very sorry.”

“Gwen, I know—”

“No, you don’t know. Not all of it. There shouldn’t be any more secrets between us. You said…you said you were mine. So you should know exactly who’s laying claim to you.”

With that, she inched backward, heels poised over the edge of the dock, and whispered Ofarian words.

The magic swept up from her toes, transforming her body part by part to shimmering water. The last thing she saw before she let go of her bodily mold and splashed into the cold lake was Reed’s wide eyes and the exaggerated O of his mouth.

Gwen didn’t need Adine’s submarine or her fancy instruments
or her enviable memory to find Genesai’s ship again.

Deep under the lake’s surface, she expanded her water body into a thin net of droplets. She opened herself to the lake’s voice, and it was as welcoming as the embrace of a dearest friend—the one who’d never judge or abandon. She’d been so worried, when the Tedrans had kept making her take
nelicoda
, that the drug would permanently damage her magic and she’d never again get to feel her liquid self slide through water. Truly, there was nothing like it.

She tested her surroundings, asking the water to tell her where the ship lay. The response came in vibrations that drifted across her liquid body, describing disturbances and outlining the placement of rocks and wildlife and sunken boats.

In the lake’s deepest canyon, she found her prize.

Gathering her body in close, she streamed like an arrow toward the ship. There it rested, gorgeous and patient, just as Gwen remembered. She flowed right for the white communication oval near the airlock. Manipulating the water pressure, she drew words in Genesai’s language to introduce herself and outline her intent.

Red words of reply streaked across the oval.
Welcome, Gwen, friend of Genesai. I remember you. The blood of my love has fed me well. To the surface I will rise.

The ship lurched and shook, dislodging itself from over a century of lake-bottom sludge. She rose and rose, and Gwen followed, drafting in her powerful wake, loving being surrounded by something other than air. For a few seconds, Gwen thought of nothing but being Ofarian, her mind gloriously empty and soaring.

They burst to the surface in a mountain of white, burbling water. No one on land would be able to miss that. Gwen prayed Xavier and his people were doing what she’d asked.

She slithered back through the water, aiming for the antsy crowd on the dock, and wound herself up and around one of the posts. Several Tedrans anxiously crept back, pointing to where she stretched her liquid form in a long puddle atop one of the wide slats. She let go of the water form, her body shooting straight up, to rematerialize in front of the gasping crowd.

Reed wasn’t among them.

“Look,” Xavier said, and she was thankful for the yank back to the task at hand.

She turned and gazed out at the water. The calm, unaffected water.

“Wow,” she murmured. There was no trace of the alien behemoth that had emerged from the lake depths.

Xavier kept his attention on the water. “The mask will dissolve for anyone who touches her. It’s like when we went through the Plant, why I couldn’t let anyone touch us.”

And like the homeless man who’d been forced to drink
Mendacia
to keep the illusion alive regardless of touch.

“The ship is floating at my eleven o’clock,” Xavier said. “Tell Griffin to head that way. He’ll feel it when the bow of his boat strikes the ship. If any part of the illusion fails, we’ll fix it.”