Secret of Betrayal: Book Two of The Destroyer Trilogy (25 page)

The thing that really keeps me up is that, according
to Braden, there are eleven Guardian compounds worldwide that are currently
holding Ciphers. That means there are still six other compounds yet to begin
carrying out their orders. And that is most likely only the first wave of
murders.

 

 

 

Chapter 1
9

Options

 

I am going to fail high school. Good thing a
high school diploma isn’t a requirement for being the Destroyer. Or maybe that
isn’t a good thing. I don’t even know. I’m so tired. The last month has been
beyond brutal. During classes is the only time I get to sleep anymore. There’s
only one more month left of school, which would usually be something for me to
celebrate. Not this year. I know summer means things will get even worse. Who
would have ever guessed I would miss high school? Everyone else seems to be
handling school and plotting an insurrection just fine, but they aren’t
subjected to additional combat and physical training sessions every afternoon,
advanced lessons in non-combat talents so I can turn them into offensive skills
every evening, and nightly trips into the spirit world to train the Ciphers and
develop my own abilities.

My breaking point gets closer every day.

A quiet knock on the classroom door snaps me out
of my semi-coma. I look up to find Braden standing at the front of the class speaking
with my English teacher. She turns away with a sour expression on her face. For
the first time since stepping foot in her class, Mrs. Swanson brings herself to
look at me. Actually speaking to me is too much, though. Her head jerks toward
Braden before turning away. The model of a school Guardian, Braden’s face is
perfectly professional as he waits for me to leave my desk and follow him into
the hall.

As soon as we’re far enough away from the door,
he slips into the guy who can’t stop worrying about me. He stuffs his hands in
his pockets, a signal I’ve learned means he’s trying to keep himself from
touching me. “How are you doing?” he asks.

I yawn without trying to hide it. “I really hope
you pulled me out of class so I can go crash somewhere and take a nap. I’m
exhausted, Braden.”

Despite still being in the school, he moves a
little closer to me as we walk. “You can sleep on the jet, I promise.”

“The jet?
Where are we
going?” My weariness suddenly seems much less important.

“Texas. One of the sympathetic Inquisitors in
Dallas just found another Cipher. We have to get there fast, before the
Guardians find out.”

“Great, my go-bag is in Milo’s trunk. I told
everyone else to have theirs ready weeks ago.” I say. Braden interrupts me for
I can continue.

“The others aren’t coming, Libby. I had a hard
enough time getting you out of class. There was no way I could get the rest of
the team out. It would have looked incredibly suspicious. The principal was
pretty leery of letting me pull you out as it was,” Braden says. He’s quiet for
a moment. I can sense the anxiety building around him. I’m not going to like
this.

Rubbing my temples, I ask, “How did you get me
out of class? More questions?”

“Not exactly.
I knew I
was probably going to have to grab you out of school at some point, so last
week I convinced my Captain that I needed to have one-on-one time with you
where I can evaluate your talents. It was the only thing I could think of. He
was more than happy to write the order, but he wants a report each time I pull
you out. I’m going to have to tell him something about what you can do.” He
pushes the outer door open for me, and I walk through. “I’m sorry, but it was
the only way I could make this work.”

Another secret to keep from
Milo.
My already iffy stomach drops a little more. If Milo knows Braden
is turning in reports on me, no matter the reason, he’ll go ballistic. Braden
is practically drowning in worry.

“Braden, it’s fine,” I say, breathing easier
when his emotional tidal wave starts to recede. “We’ll figure out what we
should put into the report later. We can either try to scare the crap out of
him or play down what I can do. You can tell me what you think is best after we
get this Cipher. I don’t want to worry about it right now.”

Stopping next to his car, Braden opens my door
after checking the parking lot, not for anyone particular, just habit. I climb
into the impressive Aston Martin and sink into the plush interior. The supple
leather makes me vaguely sad that my mom confiscated my Audi after my Inquest.
I hated the car, but it was bliss to ride in. I open my eyes to find Braden
grinning at me. “What?”

“You like the car?” he asks.

“I like the seats. Don’t be offended if I fall
asleep on you.”

“I won’t,” he says with a laugh, “just so long
as you don’t drool.”

I curl up in the seat and close my eyes. “I’m
not making any promises.”

He laughs and pulls out of the parking space.

I’m almost asleep when I remember my bag. We’re
not planning on being gone long, but if anything goes wrong I want to be
prepared. I sit up and grab Braden’s arm. “Wait, Braden, I need to get my bag
out of Milo’s car. I need to let the others know where I am, too. Milo drives
me home every day, remember?”

Somehow Braden turns me grabbing his arm into
him holding my hand. He squeezes me reassuringly before letting go. “I already
got your bag and texted everyone else about where we’re going from my burner
phone. Don’t worry about it.”

I’d really like to see the texts he got back
from Lance and Milo especially. I have no doubt they were unpleasant. Then
another thought strikes me. “Wait, you have my bag? How’d you get it out of
Milo’s trunk?”

Embarrassment fills the car. “I almost didn’t
make it into the Guardians because of my juvenile record. I hardly ever got
caught, but a few breaking and entering and grand theft auto charges did manage
to stick to me.”

“You stole cars?” I ask in amazement. I can’t
imagine it. The breaking into places, that one I’ve already experienced
firsthand, but stealing cars?

“Not all the time … but occasionally. I never
sold them or anything. I did it more for the challenge of doing it, and for the
speed.”

“The speed?”

He grins. “Surely I’m not the only Guardian
you’ve met that likes to go fast.”

And I thought this was going to be a peaceful
ride. I groan and slump down in my seat. Driving with Lance or Milo is scary
enough. I can only imagine how horrifying Braden will be. His talents are fully
unlocked. I don’t even want to think about what that means for his driving
habits.

“Just wake me when we get there,” I grumble
before using my Naturalism to drop me into a deep sleep.

A very deep
sleep
,
apparently.

I was actually talking about the jet when I told
him to wake me when we got there, but the next time my eyes open, it’s on the tarmac
of a Dallas airstrip. The deep sense of peace and comfort I feel when I wake
confuses me at first. I never sleep this well. Only when I try to push myself
up and find my hand resting on a familiar pair of slacks do I understand. I
look up to find Braden watching me as I lie on his lap.

“What, there weren’t enough seats in this thing
for me to have a row to myself?” I ask. I try to slip some irritation into my
voice, but it just doesn’t happen. Sleeping so peacefully has put me in too
good a mood. I can’t even keep myself from smiling.

He returns my smile. “You looked pretty happy
staying with me. I didn’t see any reason to move you. You said you were tired,
so I didn’t wake you. Did you sleep all right? You look much better than when I
pulled you out of class.”

How bad did I look this morning? I scoot over to
my own seat and force myself to be serious.

“I slept fine,” I say quickly. “Can we get
going?”

“Of course.
The car’s
waiting on the tarmac. It just pulled up.”

I sit up, not fast enough to avoid Braden’s
helping me and keeping a hold of me for a few seconds longer than he needs to.
I grab my bag and we’re off the jet and standing in the already overpowering
warmth of Texas air a few minutes later. Locals probably think it’s still a
little cool here, but I soak in every precious ray. I never minded the cold
until the night I broke my block. I feel as if I’ve been shivering for three
months straight. Braden gives the driver the address and unfortunately pushes
me into the car. The driver must be a transplant to Texas because he thinks
it’s hot and is blasting the air conditioner. I react to the sudden temperature
change immediately.

“Cold?”
Braden asks.
When I nod, he slips his arm around my shoulders. The honest concern in his
eyes keeps me from resisting. That and the way he can warm me up instantly, no
matter what. “You really shouldn’t be reacting to the cold still. It’s been
months. It’s starting to worry me that you’re still feeling the effects of that
night. Maybe we should talk to Dr. Hanover about it, or your own doctor, the
one you said has set all your broken bones.”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing, okay?” I do not want to
see any doctors about this. Whether it’s Dr. Layton or Milo’s dad, they’ll want
to run tests, and that means going to the hospital. No way.

“Libby, you’re not fine.”

“I’m just cold. It’s barely spring. There’s
nothing wrong with being cold this time of year,” I argue. Trying to show that
I really am fine, I lean away from Braden so his arm falls away. I’m still
cold, but the shivering has stopped at least. He doesn’t look anywhere near
convinced. I sigh and try again. “I’m sure it’s just because I haven’t had any
rest or a decent night’s sleep since that night. I train all evening and I’m up
every night in the spirit world. You know you don’t get much rest doing that.
I’ll be fine once we finish this.”

“I don’t know. This is lasting too long.
Besides,” he says, “you looked like you were sleeping pretty comfortably on the
plane, just now, but you’re still shivering.”

“So?”

“You haven’t been in the spirit world the last
few nights. If you’re sleeping that well when you do get to sleep, it should be
enough. You shouldn’t be reacting to the cold still,” Braden says.

My cheeks flood with
red,
and Braden notices before I can turn away from him. His eyebrows rise
expectantly.

“I don’t usually sleep that well,” I admit.
“Usually, I have nightmares and wake up a lot.”

“Hmm,” he says with a wicked grin, “maybe I
should keep a closer eye on you at night from now
on,
make sure you’re getting enough sleep.”

He’s already broken into my motel room once.
After learning about his juvenile vices, I have no problem imagining he could
do it again. “Don’t even think about it, Braden.”

“I’m only thinking of your health.” Braden is
still grinning, but he’s genuinely worried about me, too. He is so frustrating.

Grinding my teeth, I glare at him. “Just drop
it, okay?”

Braden gives in and settles into his seat. I
contemplate accidentally making contact with Braden so I can go back to that
perfect sleep, but I’m afraid of falling in too deeply again and showing up at
the Dallas Inquisitor’s home all bleary-eyed. The drive proves too short,
anyway. Half an hour later, we’re pulling up to a gorgeous home. The doorman
greets us at the car and ushers Braden and me inside.

At least as old as Inquisitor Moore, the man who
greets us in the foyer introduces himself as Inquisitor Joseph Rutherford. His
own hands are trembling as he shakes our hands.

“The young man is this way,” he says, and starts
leading us deeper into the house. He pauses at a set of double doors and Braden
tenses behind me. Inquisitor Rutherford turns and asks, “What exactly are you
going to do, Miss Sparks? I have never approved of handing Ciphers over to the
Guardians, but I won’t trade the enemy I know for something worse either.”

“I’m not going to hurt him.” I place my hand on
one of his in an attempt to reassure him. “All I’m going to do is perform a
second Inquest. Ciphers are bound to me. I’m the only one who can unlock their
talents.”

“But what happens after that? I still have to
make a report. What do I tell the Guardians?”

This is the part I’m not so sure about. Braden’s
hand slips up to my shoulder. He knows this is the most risky part of coming
here. I take a deep breath and give my answer. “What you tell the Guardians
will be up to you and the boy’s parents. You really only have two options. You
can submit the report saying that you were unable to perform an Inquest on him
and claim he escaped afterward before your resident Guardian could get to him”

“Where is your resident Guardian?” Braden
interrupts.

Inquisitor Rutherford’s stance
firms.
“Since Cassia was revealed, the Guardians have been hunting
Ciphers more fervently. Some Inquisitors have been scheduling Inquests off the
books. If the Guardians don’t know the Inquest is happening, it’s easier to get
them out of the way just in case another Cipher turns up.”

Braden nods and gestures for
me to continue.

“Your other option is to put in your report that
the parents brought him to me after the Inquest failed, and I unlocked his
talents. The first option means the young man will have to leave his family for
sure. We’ll take him with us, of course, if he wants to come. The second option
is more delicate. They’ll know they can’t lock him up like the other Ciphers,
which may keep the Guardians away from him, but it may not. They may simply try
to kill him if he stays here.”

“You don’t want me to just try and falsify the
report?” Inquisitor Rutherford asks. “I know they require photos of the diktats
now, but I could think of something. It would be the safest way.”

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