The Reckoning (Unbounded Series #4) (25 page)

His touch rippled through my veins, warming me. I knew he would ask, which was why I’d said it. I didn’t want to change my mind. “Later.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

I watched him leave, hoping there would be a later. The glow in my head had died, but that snake thing was still there. I wasn’t even sure I could find Delia before it destroyed me.

Would she be involved in the exchange in Morocco? It was possible but doubtful. Iranian Islamic extremists didn’t deal well with women, so if she was present, she would likely be out of sight or at another location altogether. She wouldn’t even appear, unless she had a good reason.

I am a good reason. She’ll come for me.
After me, was more like it. Was I ready? There was only one way to find out. With her construct sucking my energy, a sliver of doubt had wormed its way into my heart.

I helped Stella pack our equipment while Jeane, Mari, and Shadrach talked quietly near the far bed. Glancing over her shoulder at them, Stella placed a small cell phone in my hand. “I found it on Jeane,” she said, her voice low.

I rubbed a finger over the silver case. “She didn’t have this when we arrived. Oh, it must have been at the bar earlier. She got close to this guy—assaulted him really. I thought it was odd to call attention to us like that. Now I know why. She either took it off him, or from someone else while I was taking care of him. I should have frisked her.”

“You couldn’t have known. Anyway, it’s recently been factory reset. No way for me to tell what calls she made, if any. Not without my gear at home, and even then . . .” Stella shrugged.

Jeane was up to something—whether it was an innocent phone call or a complete betrayal—but I still had to take her with me. Right now she was the only thing standing between Delia and what might be a complete meltdown of my brain. I’d have to find a way to take her out later if she was a traitor.

“Let’s get out of here,” I told Stella. “The sooner we do, the better I’ll feel.”

“IT’S CALLED SYNERGY,” CORT SAID
from the kitchen area of the plane where we were talking privately together.

Though my energy level was still high and I’d been absorbing constantly to increase it, I was still craving the comfort only physical food could give me. One of the sweet things about being quasi-immortal was the high metabolism. I could eat as much chocolate as I wanted, and I was taking mine in the form of rich cocoa with a healthy splash of coconut flavoring and a mound of whipped cream.

“Synergy?” I looked past him at Keene, who was playing cards with Mari and Jace in the closest set of four seats. Stella and Shadrach were in the other set, where we had been sitting with them. Walker and Jeane, the outcasts, sat in the set of two seats across the aisle on the same side as the small kitchen, while Ritter and Chris were in the cockpit flying the plane. It would take nine hours, give or take, to reach our destination, depending on the air currents.

“Yes. Keene can see the patterns like me, only he can also rearrange them, making them stronger.” Cort smiled, his pride in his brother evident. “He doesn’t understand them like I do, so he can’t make new medicines or figure out how two things interact to make a real-world application, but he can change the actual physical makeup of things. Not just things but people. Theoretically, that would give him a huge advantage in just about every situation. ” He added a packet of creamer to his cup of coffee, stirring slowly. “The problem with not understanding the meaning of the patterns makes it dangerous because he has to learn each situation through trial and error. He can’t just look at it and understand so he can make it work the first time.”

“Maybe that will come eventually.”

Cort nodded. “I hope so. Because, if not, he’ll be very limited. Possibly a detriment to all of us. He knows that, and he’s working on controlling it.”

“He helped me.”

“I know. But it was dangerous.”

“He’d never hurt me.”

“Not on purpose.”

“Well, he knows at least how to increase my endurance. My strength.”

Cort puzzled over that for a minute before clearing his throat and saying, “That may be important soon.”

I knew he referred to my upcoming confrontation with Delia. I hadn’t told him or anyone about the inner box breaking. I’d tried to form yet a third box, but there seemed to be some sort of limitation in my mind, so I’d contented myself by reinforcing the second one. It was large enough that I should have room inside to contain the growing snake for a time. I’d know when the pressure began building.

“There is something I need you to do for me,” I said, taking a gulp of chocolate. “It’s about Ritter.”

“I see what’s happening with you two. We were sitting outside that factory when you ran into trouble with Walker’s attackers. He didn’t even call Stella to verify but took off to find you—in our only vehicle, I might add.”

“Does that happen a lot among Unbounded? How did he know?”

Cort leaned against the tiny sink, as if preparing for a speech. He was an intellectual at heart, a teacher, and he enjoyed the role of mentor. “I’ve never seen it happen firsthand, but historically there have been mental connections between couples, usually both sensing Unbounded. I don’t think Ritter felt your danger until you began using your ability in that alleyway, but there’s no way you could mentally reach that far, so it’s one of those unexplainable things.”

I frowned, not wanting to say what I must. “Could it be related to the snake?”

He didn’t dismiss the idea instantly but considered it for a long while. “Given that it connects you to Delia, I have to admit it’s a possibility.”

So the very thing that might be risking my life also might be forging the connection between me and Ritter. It was unsettling.

“Historically, the bond is only formed between permanent companions.”

I stared at him. “What does that mean? What happens if one of us dies?”

“You survive, go on. It’s not a death sentence. But those I’ve heard about never find another mate.”

I hadn’t asked for it, but would I want it gone? From the beginning, I’d been more aware of Ritter than anyone else. I
wanted
him more than I’d wanted any man, even Keene, who had won a slice of my heart. The realization of our connection pulsed fear through my blood and filled me with worry. If something happened to me, what would it do to Ritter?

I glanced up at Cort, whose mouth was set in a grim line which told me he was just as apprehensive about it as I was. “Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome. Now what was it you wanted me to do?”

MOROCCO, THE KINGDOM OF THE WEST
, was a study of variations, from its beautiful sandy beaches in the north to the rugged, mountainous interior that gave way to the desolate Sahara. The contrast was emphasized by the rich and poor areas of the cities and the variety of languages spoken—Berber, Arabic, and French among them. Casablanca, Morocco’s largest city, though not its capital, was more of the same. Stretches of modern buildings sat next to sections with stained, older ones. Wide streets were only minutes from narrow roads that were crowded with street vendors and their clients. Western clothes mixed in with colorful robes and head coverings.

We arrived after ten at night, having lost most of Sunday to the long flight and the time change. Another hour was spent clearing customs, our weapons safely tucked into a hidden compartment on the plane, which Chris would watch over as usual. We drove in two separate rental vehicles to Old Medina, where we were met by Basilio Chafik, who owned a block of buildings in the area. Though he was Islamic, he didn’t have a hatred toward the West. His two wives, Amina and Yalda, both of whom wore robes with head and face coverings, were polite and welcoming. It wasn’t long before I realized that one of Basilio’s forefathers had been Unbounded, and that he’d known Ava all his life.

Their living quarters, located above a mini mall, looked like an old apartment building, but inside was more houselike, modern, and lushly decorated. The low ceilings and narrow corridors made me feel safe and secure, a welcome illusion, at least for me. Though Amina and Yalda’s robes were a boring tan and conservative gray, the furnishings were all brightly colored, and sweeping curtains draped walls, doorways, and even several of the ceilings.

“My wives will show you ladies to your quarters on the next floor,” Basilio said. “The men will have rooms down here, but of course you are free to interact. My wives are traditional, but they understand you do not share our faith. They will provide you with head and face coverings, which I recommend you wear when you go out. No need to call attention to your nationality.” He inclined his head toward me. “Especially you with your blond hair. The Emporium will be on high alert. For the record, it is never safe for women to walk around Old Medina at night, but then, you aren’t ordinary women, are you?”

We hadn’t attracted attention at the airport, but our arrival at Basilio’s hadn’t gone unnoticed, especially Jeane, who’d changed into a short-sleeved, tight-fitting dress on the plane that had earned her several catcalls from men in a nearby bar.

“I think we should all get some rest,” Stella said. “My equipment will alert us if Habid tries to contact us with his location. I’ll let you all know.”

“We have made a sitting room available upstairs that is large enough to serve as a meeting room for you,” Basilio said. “Will you take some refreshments there now?”

Declining politely, the rest of the women and I followed the wives up the stairs. After showing us the sitting room, Yalda led me to a small but luxurious bedroom that had long, sheer white curtains over a minuscule window, gold drapes over the bed, and an elaborate armoire in the corner. She said something in Arabic, pointing down the hallway, and I assumed she was talking about the bathroom. I was curious about her marital situation—Shadrach had told us that polygamy was no longer promoted but still accepted in Morocco as long as the women had a choice, which was still not the case in many Islamic cultures. But Yalda didn’t seem the type to share her thoughts with a stranger, even if she had been able to speak English.

I hovered near the door to make sure Jeane went into the next room. I’d just settled onto the bed, fully dressed, when a tap came on the door and Stella entered at my invitation. “Basilio has assured me there is no phone available to Jeane, and I’ve got my phone programmed to alert me if she tries to go too far. Even so, having her here worries me.” Her gaze focused on my face. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“No more glowing lights?”

“No. Look, now that you’re here, I want to try the nanite thing again.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I’ve worked it out in my head. I think I know what to do now.”

“You realize you’ll have to channel my ability every day to keep these nanites in place.”

“Only for a few minutes and then they’ll work for a least a day. And I won’t need to do it regularly before I meet with Delia and get this
thing
taken care of.” I felt a rush of anger mingled with fear. I’d never be able to live my life if I couldn’t win the war I waged.

Stella moved toward me, sitting on the bed and drawing up her feet. “What’s wrong? What brought this on?”

Something inside me crumpled at the sympathy in her voice, and my tears threatened to fall. “I just don’t want to wait anymore.”

“That, I understand completely.” She squeezed my arm before going to the door. “I’ll go get some nanites and come right back.”

Moments later we sat on the bed, my hand gripping hers. “Okay, show me.” I entered her mind as her barrier dropped. I knew how to follow her thoughts already, and how a technopath could follow the pathways in her body to find the nanites and tell them what to do. The trick was finding the right path and maintaining consistency. The neural pathways of the brain and body were much more complicated to navigate than simple thoughts.

“It’s not working. I can’t seem to get there,” I said and pushed what I was seeing at Stella.

She laughed aloud. “You’re looking at it like a physician. Just reach out to the nanite. That’s what you’re communicating with. Make it go where you want. You don’t need to follow it.”