“I’ll do that,” I whisper, holding Marcus’s gaze because I know that he’s the one who matters. Not his goon.

I step down between him and Tabatha, careful not to let any part of us brush. Almost like if we were to touch, we would ignite in an electrical reaction. We’re two properties that should never meet. And yet here we are, thrown into a fishbowl together.

Just two more days.

I suck in a breath as I head to the room I share with Junie. I find her there, removing stuff from her pack.

She smiles when she looks up. “Hey, did you hear the good news? Your friends are okay, and they’re at refuge number four.”

I smile. “That is good news.”

“I bet they’re going to be relieved when they hear that you’re all right and coming to join them.”

“Yeah.” I sink down on the bottom mattress.

Her smile slips. “You don’t look too happy.”

“Of course I am.”

She stares at me, disbelieving. Sighing, I admit, “Just had a little run-in with Marcus and Ruben.”

She rolls her eyes. “Those two. Don’t worry about them. They’re just in a perpetual bad mood because everyone looks to Caden first. You would think Caden is older. That makes it even more of a sore point for Marcus, I think.”

“Why does everyone trust Caden so much?” I ask, even though I already suspect. Caden has a way about him. He’s the kind of guy who makes you believe in silver linings. The kind you trust your life to. That is, if you were the kind of person given to trust anyone.

She looks at me blankly. “Wouldn’t you trust Caden first? I mean, between the two of them?”

I smile and nod grudgingly. Without a doubt. “Yeah, but then I might be biased.” Caden did save my life, but I don’t remind her of that. “Marcus hasn’t exactly been warm and fuzzy with me.”

She gives me a look that says, Yeah, well, you did kill his cousin. Instead of going there, though, she says, “Marcus wants to rush out guns blazing.” She shakes her head. “Some of the schemes he has suggested . . . I mean, they’re suicide missions. He might be a badass soldier, but he’s no military strategist. The only reason we’ve made it at all these last couple of months without General Dumont is because of Caden’s good sense.”

The hero worship is evident in her tone, and I can’t help but smile. I remember feeling that way when I met Sean. Well, not at first, but eventually. He’d been marked as a carrier for most of his life. He knew how to handle living with the circumstances that had suddenly been thrust upon me. All the misery and injustice . . . he endured it all and seemed stronger for it. Honorable. Proud. If I had to be a carrier, I wanted to be one like him. He gave me hope.

And now there’s Caden. He’s all that and maybe even more. Because he refuses to run. He’s staying and fighting. With his faith in carriers, in mankind. In me.

Now he’s the one. The one whose smiles pull at something inside me and make me want to smile, too. The one I wish I could be more like.

* * *

BOERNE HERALD NEWS

Obituaries

* * *

Victoria (Tori) Samantha Chesterfield died Saturday afternoon while attending a peaceful protest outside the state capital, one of four victims senselessly shot by a lone carrier sympathizer. A life cut down much too early, she died standing up for her beliefs, a true patriot for her country who will be greatly missed. She is survived by her parents, Eric and Hannah Chesterfield, a younger brother, Brandon, and countless friends. The service will be held at Sleepy Hills Memorial Home Wednesday afternoon at four p.m. In lieu of flowers, her family requests donations be made to any anti-carrier group of your choice.

FIFTEEN

I’M IN THE INFIRMARY WITH RHIANNON THE NEXT day, helping her catalog the new supplies, when Caden finds me.

Even though the infirmary was the location of my attempted murder, I gravitate toward it now. For the most part, I’ve been cared for here. It’s been safe, quiet. Fewer prying stares. Usually it’s just Phelps and Rhiannon. Only an occasional patient.

Rhiannon has come around, treating me almost warmly as I read off the names of the medicines for her to enter into the computer and then stacking them neatly beside me.

“There you are,” Caden murmurs, the door clanging behind him. His gaze shifts from me to Rhiannon. “Mind if I borrow your helper?”

Rhiannon shakes her head.

Caden offers me a hand and pulls me to my feet. He holds on to my hand for longer than necessary. We’re almost to the door before I slip my hand from his. I tuck a short strand of hair behind my ear as if I needed my hand free to do that. Which is a little lame. It’s not as though I need an excuse not to hold his hand. Why would we be holding hands? We’re not a couple. The very idea makes me drag a deep, shuddery breath into my lungs.

I keep pace beside him. He leads me down the narrow hall into the controls room.

Terrence looks up from where he’s sitting at a table full of several high-tech-looking computers and equipment.

“Hey, T.” Caden nods at him. “Can you give us a minute in here?”

Terrence almost looks like he’ll refuse, but then he sighs and removes a pair of headphones from his ears. He exits the room, and I feel a little uneasy as he shuts the door behind us. We’ve been alone together before, but not since I turned him down when he asked me to stay.

I uncross my arms and force a smile. “Did you need something?”