Phoenix (10 page)

I nod. "Yes, and you have to do it convincingly."

He pushes away from the desk. "No."

"No, what?"

"I can't do that. I can't lie like this." Through his thick mask of make-up, his face turns red.

My lips pinch together. "Well, I can't read it. Not after what happened at the Opera. I'll look ridiculous."

"You're going to look ridiculous no matter what."

"Something wrong here?" Annalise asks.

I point at the teleprompter. "That story is a lie."

"And one you're going to tell if you want to maintain peace."

"I can't do it after the gossip feed debacle yesterday." I check my wristlet – five minutes until broadcast, and we're fighting about stories. This isn't good.

"You can, and you will," Annalise says. "Unless you want more riots on your hands."

My gaze flits between my mate and my sister-in-law. Beck stares at me with wide eyes, before turning away.

"What is it?" I ask, irritation creeping into my voice

"You're okay with lying?"

I consider him for a long moment. I'm not okay with lying – especially after being lied to so many times by so many people. But, maybe there are times when it's necessary. Like now.
 

"If it keeps the peace, yes," I say.

He rubs his hand over his chin. "I'm not."

"Then read the names of the newly bound couples. That's at least true." I point to the prompter. "Can you do that?"

"Lark, this is wrong. Why are we lying? What do we have to gain?"

This is going to be a problem. Beck is going to be a problem. "We need to make the people think we have everything under control."

"What people, Lark? The ones who aren't starving? The ones here in San Francisco?"

My lip twitches. "What are you saying?"

"I'm telling you that everyone will know we're lying. We'll lack credibility going forward if we do that story about the food shortages."

I inhale deeply. "Let me do that one and the Sensitives, you take the Founders' Ball and the bindings."

"Lark, I don't know--"

"Positions, please. We're on in three, two, one." The camera whirls to life.

I pray Beck sticks to the script before I smile at the camera the way I remember Mother doing. "Good morning, Students," I say. "It's a pleasure for Beck and me to be with you today. Our first update," I pause. Off camera, Annalise motions for me to go on. Somewhere deep inside me, magic bubbles up. I reach into my core and think,
everything I say is the truth.
Magic gnaws at me, and I release it on my unsuspecting audience, hoping I tapped the right reserve of magic. With my luck, I probably gave everyone the flu. "Our first update is about the increase in output at our Agricultural Centers. Within the week, food will be shipping to all areas of our society. Just in time to celebrate the Founders' Ball. Feasts for all."
 

Next to me, Beck shifts in his chair. "The Founders' Ball is a masquerade this year. Honored guests include all Founder descendants, in addition to dignitaries from the Eastern Society. Don't forget, live coverage will begin promptly at seven, and that all Statespeople are encouraged to attend their local Founders' Ball celebration."

Beck continues by reading the names of the newly bound couples this week. It's a shorter list than usual.
 

I smile again at the camera. "I'm happy to report we've made several key Sensitive arrests this week. Among them the reported leader of a rogue group – Mark Hasselman. By taking Hasselman off the streets, we've eradicated one more threat to our great Society." I shift forward in my chair, remembering how reports like this used to fill me with a sense of relief. I channel my magic to that feeling and force it out on my audience. "Don't forget, we rely on you to help make these captures possible.

"In closing, there have been no Sensitive breaches or attacks this week. We are living during a truly peaceful time. Have a productive and prosperous day."

The camera whirls off, and Beck whispers to me, "That's such great news about the food shortages."

"What?" I say, blinking.

"That the food is shipping so soon."

I blink. "Are you being smart with me?"

Confusion crosses Beck's face. "About what?"

I lace my arms together and stare at him incredulously.
 

"What?" He demands. "Am I missing a joke or something?"

I shake my head. "No."

Somehow, I'm influencing people just like Mother. It's a piece of magic I find very much to my liking.
 

"Walk with me?" I say to Beck as I unclip the microphone from my dress and push away from the desk. I need him to know the truth, but I can't say it before all these people. I need them to believe that every word I just said was truth. It's imperative people believe the food shortages are coming to an end.

He grins at me. "Back to the bedroom?"

I punch his arm gently. "If you want. I need to speak to you privately."

He follows me into our sitting room and waits until I close the door.
 

"Beck, look at me."

He turns around so that our bodies are aligned. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"I think I'm somehow influencing the people with magic. That story about food production was a lie, and you knew it, yet you believed me when I read it."

Beck stares at me incredulously when I explain the truth about the food shortages. He steps away from me. "What does that mean?"

"I somehow mind controlled everyone into believing what I wanted them to believe – just like my mother used to." Hearing the words spoken aloud brings a slightly sick feeling in my stomach. I'm manipulating people just like Mother did. But that isn't what disturbs me. No, it's that I enjoy it. A lot. More than I should.

Beneath all the make-up, Beck's face pales. "Are you doing it now? Are you mind controlling me?"

"No, of course not! I wouldn't do that to you. Ever. I swear." My hands jitter, and Beck's eyes me with suspicion.
 

He paces before me, "Malin had this ability too?"

"Once, during a fake Sensitive attack, she told me erasing the memories of hundreds of people wasn't high on her list of things to do." I pause, letting my words sink in. I take a deep breath to steady myself before speaking the next words. "I've done it before - to Lena. That's why she's the way she is, not because of the medical tests they did to her."

"You're the reason Lena is a vegetable?"

I drop my chin to my chest and blink back tears. "I did that. I scrambled her brain on two different occasions."

"Why would you do that?" Beck asks, anger creeping into his voice. "She's your friend."

My face burns. "I know, but she saw us do magic and..."

"And so you made her crazy?" He snorts and gives a curt shake of his head. "Who are you? The Lark I know wouldn't behave like this."

I press the palm of my hand over my mouth, suppressing a cry. He's right, but how do I stop? And can I stop even if I wanted to? I'm just one cog in a political machine I don't fully understand.

"No wonder he wants me dead." My voice trembles.

"What?"

"Ryker."

Beck avoids my wet-eyed gaze.
 

"Do you think he hasn't attacked me because he's too busy with Lena?"

"If anything, it would give him more reason to kill you." Beck's jaw is set firmly, and anger radiates from him.

When I reach out to stroke Beck's arm, he yanks it away, and I recoil.
 

"Beck, please," I beg. "Hear me out. If you were injured like that, I wouldn't leave your side." I rub my hands together, discharging some of the magic building inside me.
 

"Where is she being kept?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Why?" Desperation seeps into my voice, but I don't care.
 

 
"Because you've done enough damage to that girl and Ryker." Beck blinks his eyes rapidly, and his mouth opens then shuts. "You're going to stop looking for Ryker."

"What?" I exclaim in disbelief. "Are you trying to influence me?"

With a slow shake of his head, he says, "No."

It's a complete lie, and my heart fumbles. Beck is testing out powers on me.
 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

One thing I should have done earlier is visit Lena. My argument with Beck reminded me of this. After the attacks, she was sent off somewhere else to convalesce while the rest of us stayed at my and Kyra's homes. I've given her very little thought beyond what is necessary, but that's about to change.

Once again, my selfishness wins over selflessness. I'm not just going for a social visit - I want to see if Ryker is hanging around.
 

Kyra, acting as my friend not my guard, and I walk through the Presidio with a small group of Landon's men to protect us. Eucalyptus and wet earth fill the air – the scent of spring. Off to our right, the Bay sparkles like a brilliant diamond. It's a beautiful, clear day. Sunny even, but not too warm. Just perfect.
 

We reach the barricade separating the school facilities from the City and pause to let the guard scan our wristlets. Once we're cleared, he waves us through. Not so long ago, I believed the wall and guard stations were enough to protect us from outside threats. Now I know the threat was truly lurking within the very walls that should have kept us safe.

The City hums around us. Out here, work crews of Sensitives clean the streets, and their bright red wristlets are visible to all.
 

Guilt nibbles at me. Most of these people are nothing more than the poor or the underprivileged wrongly accused of crimes, and Mother's ploy to shift suspicion from us to others. I wonder where the Sensitives I condemned earlier today have been sent and make a mental note to follow-up on Mark Hasselman, the supposed ring leader of a Sensitive cell, later today.

Lena's house is only a few blocks away, but it feels like a million miles - the difference between where Kyra and I live and here is stark. The houses are narrow, three-story structures instead of sprawling mansions, and the streets lack trees. That's not to mention the increase of people. The crowded sidewalks force my guard to form a protective bubble around Kyra and me. The throng of people jostles us and propels us forward until we turn left onto Fourth Avenue.

Unlike our last visit, I ring the doorbell while Kyra stands behind me. We wait a minute, and I ring the bell again just as an older woman with graying brown hair swings the door open.
 

"Miss Lark!" Her eyes dart over my shoulder to Kyra and the guards.

"Good afternoon," I say, extending my hand. The woman immediately grabs and kisses it. It's a gesture I've seen others do to Mother, but have never experienced myself. I shudder and withdraw my hand.
 

"We're here to see Lena," Kyra says.

The woman places one hand over her stomach, and her shoulders roll forward. "I'm afraid she's not up for visitors today. Perhaps tomorrow?"

"Perhaps today," I say with my hand on the door, pushing it open more. "We came all this way, after all."

When the woman hesitates as if she fears telling me the truth, I say, "We know of her condition, it's okay."

"I'm afraid she won't recognize you, ladies. There's little point in visiting." The woman begins to shut the door, as if that could stop me.

"And yet, I still wish to see my old friend," I say with sweetness dripping from my voice. "You should take us upstairs."

The woman's eyes cloud up for a moment before clearing. "This way." She opens the door wider, and we step through.

She leads us up a narrow, steep staircase to the top floor and down a long hallway. In a seat by the window, sits Lena. There's a bright yellow throw over her lap, and she stares out the window. In the sunlight, her blond hair looks almost white. It glows.

"Hiya, Lena," I say gently, touching her arm. "How are you?"

She turns her head slowly, as if just now realizing we were there. The color drains from her face, and she begins hitting her head against the back of the chair. "Sensitives. Sensitives. Sensitives. Lark. Kyra. Sensitives."

"I'm sorry, girls. She doesn't say much else." The woman's voice is chocked with tears.
 

"Are you her mother?" I ask.

"I am." She fixes Lena's blanket with trembling hands. "Thank you for coming by. I know Lena must be glad to see you. After all, my understanding is that you saved her life."

She's speaking to me.
 

My shoulders hunch forward under the weight of what I've done. "No. It's just that Lena was behind us and..."
And what, Lark? You messed with her memory before and viciously attacked her, which is why she's like this.

"Is Timothy home?" I ask. "I'd like to speak to Lena's mate, if possible."

Lena's mother holds her chin high, and her nostrils flare. "No. He hasn't been home in days."

"He abandoned her?"

"I don't know, but I do know he's not interested in caring for her."

I narrow my eyes. "Has anyone else been here? Like Ryker Newbold?"

"There was a boy," she answers. "However, I haven't seen him for days either. He left with Beck."

"
What?
"

"The other boy, he left with Beck." She touches her lips as if revealing a secret.
 

Kyra lays her hand on my arm. "I think we have everything we need, Lark." She wanders over to Lena and kisses her forehead. For a moment, it looks like she may cry, but like a good guard, Kyra gets her emotions in check. "Let's go."

We stumble down the steep stairs, my heart racing. "He lied," I hiss under my breath. "He knows where Ryker is. What does that mean?"

We're outside on the street. Kyra tugs at her ear, telling me to wait until later, when we have more privacy.

I nod, but inwardly, I seethe.

#

I slam the old, wood door to my bedroom. To my surprise, it doesn't splinter or disintegrate. It just slams.

Score one for keeping my temper in check.

Kyra eyes me coolly. "Don't let him undo all your hard work. Stay in control."