Perfect Lies (9 page)

“Fia would be fine,” I mutter, putting my feet up on the dash. “She always figures it out.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened with Mae.”

“Really? Because I blame me.”

“She had a choice, and she made the wrong one. But you gave her options. No one did that for you.”

“That’s not true. Fia told me not to go to the school, and I didn’t listen.”

“Again, not your fault.”

I rub my forehead, the beginnings of a headache pulsing behind my eyes. I haven’t had so much as a hint of a vision since the one with Mae. Maybe my own brain has decided I’m worthless, too.

“I was thinking,” he says. “If you wanted to learn some self-defense, I’d be happy to teach you.”

“What good will that do?”

“More than you think. We’d play to your strengths.”

“In case you haven’t been paying attention, I’m a scrawny blind girl.”

“Exactly. Let other people underestimate you, and then use that to your advantage.”

“So basically you’re saying my strength is that I have no strengths.”

His staccato laugh rings through the car and I smile in spite of myself.

“Okay, fine,” I say. “You can teach me some things. After tea. I need some tea like nobody’s business.”

He pulls to a stop. I get out of the car and try to decide what kind of tea day today is while he gets the bags.

“Looks like Rafael is here,” Cole says, not sounding particularly enthused. I, on the other hand, have missed the sexy sounds of Rafael’s voice. Nobody reads a menu like him. I can’t help but feel a little giddy knowing I’ll get to hang out with him. It’s just mindless flirting—curse his not-right hands—but a little mindless flirting makes me feel real and normal in the most comforting way.

“I hope he brought Sarah!” I hurry up the stairs and throw open the door. “Hey,” I call. “Who’s back?”

I take a few steps, then the groceries drop to the floor with a shattering of glass jars as Cole grabs me and shoves me to the closed door. His back presses against me, blocking my whole body. “What the—”

That’s when the unfamiliar but instantly recognizable sound of a gun being cocked fills the air. “Well now,” says a voice I never expected to hear again. The phantom smell of mustard and the memory of a thousand times walking past him overcomes me. Hallway Darren. “You look good for being dead, Annie. Come on in.”

Cole takes my arm, keeping me behind him as we walk forward slowly. Then Cole is roughly pulled away. I hear him pushed to the floor, a low grunt his only protest.

“Don’t bother with this one.” Hallway Darren shoves me onto the couch. “She’s not any trouble without her sister. Finish tying him up and put him next to the other guy.” He must be talking about Rafael.

“I got it,” another man says.

“Anyone else in the house? I’ll know if you’re lying.” A woman, speaking from across the room. I don’t know if she’s a Reader or a Feeler, but either way, we’re screwed.

My heart races and I’m overcome with despair. This was all for nothing. If I go back, I am as good as dead. I hang my head, letting the fear wash over me, radiate out. I concentrate on feeling that, and that alone. I don’t let myself think anything.

“There’s no one else,” Sarah says. She sounds like she’s on the couch, too. Darren and the other man are directly in front of me. The woman is near the kitchen. Cole is …

“Don’t move,” the other man says, and I hear someone get pushed against the wall. Okay. Cole and Rafael must be near the sliding glass door to the patio.

I am worthless. I am less than worthless. I can’t do anything.

“She’s not lying,” the woman says. “This is everyone. Want me to figure out who those two are?”

“Nah, only the girls matter.” Darren sounds positively gleeful. “I can’t believe Annie’s alive. I’d better call this one in right now.”

Without thinking, I lunge forward, head ducked. My shoulder slams into Darren’s stomach and I throw my arms around his waist and push. We fall to the ground together; I sink my teeth into his bicep and scramble to find his hand.

The side of the gun connects with my head, and everything explodes in brilliant pain. Dazed, I grab for his gun, but he flips me off and onto my stomach, his knee digging into my back.

A loud pop, followed by another.

I brace myself for the pain, but it doesn’t come. Instead the pressure on my back disappears and Darren falls onto my arm. I jerk it out from under him and scramble away.

“It’s all right,” Cole says, putting his tied-together hands on my shoulder. “They’re down.”

Rafael speaks for the first time. “Are you okay, Casey?”

The woman takes a shuddering breath. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“What just happened?” Sarah asks. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry,” Casey says. “I tried to warn you we were coming, but I was never alone.”

“Casey’s been working with me for months,” Rafael explains. “She’s in deep at Keane.”

I try to stand but am shaking too much, so I sit where I am.

Cole talks from the kitchen, where I hear a soft snicking sound that I assume is him, cutting his wrists free. “How did they find us?”

I am sitting in a room with two dead men. I hate this. I want to be anywhere else.

The woman, Casey, sits on the couch. “Keane’s got a Seer trained on you, Rafael. You’ve got to be more careful.”

Rafael sounds tired. “Okay. Does James know his father sent them after me?”

“I don’t think so. This one was secret. That’s why I couldn’t contact you—they took my cell away and didn’t even tell me where we were going until we were here.”

“But no one knows Annie is alive, right?” Sarah asks.

“Besides her.” I nod in Casey’s general direction.

“Secret is safe with me. The Seer only saw Rafael—good thing you weren’t together at the time. Well, I’m gonna have to request that someone shoot me.”

“What?” Sarah asks, her voice strangled.

“I can’t lose their trust now. The story is, we were ambushed, Darren and Mark were fatally shot, and I got away after being shot in the arm.” She takes a deep breath, whispering either a prayer or a curse to God.

I shake my head. “This is ridiculous. You don’t have to get shot. You were waiting outside in the car while they cleared the house. You heard the shots, saw someone run out with a gun, and drove away. All we have to do is shoot a couple of holes in the car.”

“Oh, I like that idea so much better,” Casey says.

“On it.” Cole walks out the front door.

“What about the bodies?” Sarah whispers, and I am so glad I can’t see what she can. I crawl across the floor to the couch, then sit and put my arm around her shoulder. She leans into me. My head still hurts where Darren hit it with the gun.

Darren’s dead now.

“Call Nathan,” Rafael says. “Tell him what happened. This house is officially closed, but he can come clean up.”

Sarah squeezes my hand, then stands and walks out of the room, her voice trailing away as she gives directions over the phone.

I shake my head, overwhelmed and tired. And then I realize that I don’t feel guilty. Darren and the other man wouldn’t have been shot if I hadn’t tackled him and given Casey an opening. I’m entirely culpable in their deaths.

“I’m confused, too,” Casey says.

“Feeler?”

“Yup.”

“Shouldn’t I feel guilty?” I remember how devastated Fia was after helping with the package bomb that killed two people. How hollow she was after killing Clarice. I just feel … tired. And a little bit relieved. No one I care about died today.

“I don’t think there’s any way you should or shouldn’t feel right now. I don’t know how to feel, either.” The couch squeaks as she leans forward. “Wow, I am so not looking forward to going back to work.”

“What are you doing there?”

“The usual. Human resources. Light espionage. I mostly interview employees as a human lie detector. It’s my specialty.”

“No, I mean for Rafael.”

“That I can’t tell you. I can’t even let myself think about it. I’ll have to move faster now, though.”

I nod, understanding. “Word of advice: don’t ever plan ahead.”

“Yeah, rotten Seers. No offense. But thanks. Your quick thinking back there saved everyone.”

I nod, not really sure a “you’re welcome” is appropriate with two dead men on the floor.

The front door opens. “Done,” Cole says.

“I’m off then, on my mad getaway from gun-toting brigands. Wish me luck.” She tries for perky on that last sentence, but it sounds wistful and sad.

“Good luck,” I whisper as the door closes behind her.

“We need to get out of here now. Everybody pack,” Rafael says.

I stand and walk up to my room. So much for being bored. I grab my electronics and throw them in the bag I always keep packed with my fake documents. Shove some clothes in on top of them. I don’t have much stuff.

“Do you need help?” Rafael asks from the doorway.

I lean against my closet. “No. I don’t know. I should have seen this coming.”

“Everyone is safe. That’s what’s important.”

I shake my head. “I’m tired of being safe and protected. I want to do something. Give me Adderall.”

“What?”

“I know Sarah’s taking it to give herself a boost. I want it, too. I’m the only one who can see Fia, right? But what good does that do if I never see anything? I need to see more.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“I want it. I’ll get it whether or not you help me.” I have no idea how to begin to go about getting drugs illegally. But I hope I sound convincing.

He sighs. “Fine. When we’re safely away from here, I’ll get some for you. But we’ll be careful.”

I nod, but it’s a lie. I don’t care about being careful. I care about being useful. And I’ll do anything to make that happen.

THERE ARE TOO MANY. THIS IS OBVIOUS. TAP TAP TAP
tap the broken bottle’s flat side against my leg. My free hand is on Pixie’s arm, holding her close to my body. I edge us out the main doors and onto the sidewalk, but everything here is noisy and fast and I don’t know how to do this.

Hmm. It’s a puzzle.

Something hard jabs into my back. “I’ve got a gun on you. Try anything and I’ll shoot.”

I turn around, face-to-face with a short, stocky man. “I hate it when people threaten to shoot me. Either shoot me or don’t, but stop talking about it. Besides, you aren’t supposed to hurt me.”

I feel the twinge of error a split second before his eyes shift to tiny Pixie next to me. A smile creeps across his blocky features and he moves the gun hidden in his jacket pocket toward her. “I’ll shoot your girlfriend.”

Pixie would be dead, and it wouldn’t be by my hand. Annie’s secret would be safe again.

No. I can’t—won’t—let her die. It would be easier, but it isn’t right. I spin behind him, pulling him against my body and shoving the jagged edge of the glass against his neck. “Get that gun away from her.”

He starts to move, so I push harder. “You’ll bleed to death before you get to the hospital.”

“You should listen to her,” Pixie babbles, whites showing all around her irises, which are fixed on the outline of the gun. “She’s never wrong.”

“If you hurt me, there are more of us, they’ll shoot her. It won’t matter if you kill me.”

“But it matters to you, doesn’t it?” I rest my chin on the back of his neck. He smells like floral shampoo and terror. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to let Pixie hail a cab and get in. As soon as she is safely in the car and gone, I’ll come with you, no problem.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

I dig the glass in, because he’s annoying me and I’m jittery and anxious to see Pixie safely off. They can’t hurt her. I won’t let them. I need Pixie secure even though she holds my most precious secret in her head, and that makes her far more dangerous than I ever thought she’d be.

“What about you?” she says, looking at me now.

I smile. “I’m always fine. Hail your cab.”

The main raises his hand. “Hold on, she can’t—”

I kick his Achilles tendon. “Here’s how you know I’m telling the truth: I love this shirt and if I have to kill you, I’ll get blood all over it. Do you know how hard blood is to wash off? I do. You can never get it off. Not ever.” Never, never, never, never. Tap tap tap tap. “So you let her leave and I let you keep your blood on the inside where it belongs and we go talk to your friend who is so desperate to see me.”

Pixie looks scared. “Fia, don’t—”

“Get a cab. Now.” I glare at her and she turns, walking stiffly to the edge of the sidewalk. Two men move to follow her.

“Tell them,” I whisper in the ear of my man.

“Let her leave,” he says, his voice tight.

Pixie looks back at me as a cab stops and she climbs in. I give her a thumbs-up with the hand I have wrapped around the front of my man. Then she is gone and that means she is safe, so I don’t really care what happens now. I’ll be fine.

I let go of the man and he jumps away, rubbing at his neck and calling me nasty names under his breath. I toss the bottle to the side with a tinkle of glass and smile cheerfully. “See? Easy! Who wants to take me to my earnest suitor?”