Twenty-Two
Cam was sitting on the couch in the dark when I opened the door, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head hanging low. He looked up when a slice of light from outside fell over him, and my first thought was that he’d aged ten years in the half hour since he’d walked into the shadows with Kori.
If she weren’t dead yet, I’d kill her myself for what she’d done, not just to Anne and Hadley, but to Cameron, too. And to me by extension.
“Any news?” I asked, when I’d closed and locked the door.
“I left Kori two messages—the second much angrier and more demanding than the first—and Anne left one of her own, outright asking her to bring Hadley back, but Kori hasn’t responded. I don’t know if she’s even heard them yet.”
I flipped the switch to the left of the door and light from overhead flooded the living room as I set my bags on the floor. “How’s Anne?”
For a second, Cam just blinked at me, clearly trying to decide how to say something I wasn’t going to want to hear. Then he stood and grabbed the duffel I’d filled with food from his apartment. “I…um…” He set the bag on the table and started pulling out boxes of toaster pastries and mac and cheese Hadley wasn’t there to eat. “I had to kind of…sedate her.”
“You sedated her?” I repeated, hoping I’d heard him wrong. But he only nodded, opening the freezer to shove several still mostly frozen pizzas inside. “With what?”
“Diazepam.” He lined up the food boxes on the counter next to the fridge, in descending size order.
“What’s that?”
“Valium. Liquid solution, in a glass of Coke,” Cam said, and he spoke over me before I could ask where the hell he’d gotten liquid valium. “It’s left over from what the doc gave me for Van, when she was…hysterical. But don’t worry, it’s mild, and I gave her a low dose. She’ll wake up in a couple of hours.” When I only watched him, silently demanding more of an explanation, he sighed and leaned against the short kitchen bar. “I had to. She was flipping out, threatening to kill me and go after Hadley herself. I couldn’t just let her storm out of here and get herself killed. And I was afraid the neighbors would hear her shout.”
I closed my eyes and sank into one of four chairs around the small breakfast table. “Okay…” He’d done it to keep her safe, and even if that wasn’t how I would have handled the situation, I couldn’t fault his intent. “Talk while we work.” I bent to pull two rolls of duct tape from my bag and tossed him one. “What’s the best way to get to Hadley? Do you have any idea where Tower would keep her?”
Cam shrugged and turned the tape over in his hand, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “I assume he’d keep her wherever the project is headquartered, but I have no idea where that is.”
“It’s for the windows,” I said, holding up my own roll. I crossed into the living room and stood on a chair to tape the thick blackout curtains to the wall on first the left side, then the bottom, then the right, leaving the top open, because it was higher than the glass. Cavazos’s men wouldn’t be able to see anything that way.
“Won’t this look suspicious?” Cam asked, moving to help me tape the second living-room window.
“Nah. I tape my own windows sometimes, when I know he’s watching. They’ll assume I just want some privacy.”
“You should know I’m fighting an overwhelming urge to pull Cavazos’s intestines out slowly, though a small hole in his navel.”
I scrounged up a small smile. “You should know I’m fully committed to that same urge.”
Together, we taped the small bathroom window and the one in the only bedroom, then started turning on lights. I’d spent a grand total of ten minutes in the apartment before, but I remember thinking when I first saw it that it was perfect for keeping Travelers out. Of course, at the time, I’d assumed I was seeing the home of a target I’d need to track, and that he or she had been hiding from Travelers. But now I’d become that resident, hiding from Travelers—yet desperate to get my hands on one shadow-walker in particular.
The only bed, where Anne was cringing in her sleep, was built on a base of drawers, so there were no beneath-the-bed shadows to worry about. All of the closets were equipped with hardwired lights, so eliminating shadows there was as easy as pushing all the clothes—Cavazos had furnished some kind of creepy Barbie dream-date wardrobe for me—to one side. The kitchen cabinets all had glass fronts, which let light in and killed potential shadows. I pulled back the shower curtain and opened all the bathroom cabinet doors—you can never be too careful.
None of the living-room furniture cast a shadow big or dark enough to let someone in, and I’d just turned on the light in the small pantry when Cam spoke up from a bar stool behind me. “Maybe we should leave an opening,” he said. “For Kori.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, watching him. “You really think she’ll just bring Hadley back?”
He shrugged. “She won’t have any choice once she hears Anne’s message. And even if she doesn’t, I don’t think Kori wanted to take Hadley in the first place. I think she’ll be looking for an opportunity to make this right. We’ll have to trust her.”
“Like we trusted her half an hour ago?”
“She’s in a tough spot, Liv,” he insisted, but I could see beyond what he was saying to what he was actually thinking—his inner conflict was clear, from the deep lines carved in his forehead.
“Just like you are.”
He looked up, and his gaze was heavier than I’d ever seen it. “If she was given a direct order, she had no choice.”
“And you think this hypothetical order justifies what she did?”
His gaze hardened and he leaned forward with both elbows on the counter. “First of all, that order isn’t hypothetical, or theoretical, or mythical in the least. We both know Kori would never do something like this if she had any choice. She’d never hurt a child.”
Well, I couldn’t argue there, even though the facts seemed to be arguing for me.
“And second, no, I don’t think orders justify what she did. There’s no way to justify that. But I think she’s eager to make it right. To make up for it, if possible.” He hesitated. “We owe her the chance to do that. Leave her a way in, Liv. We’ll work on finding Hadley from our end, but we need to leave Kori a way to bring her back, if she gets a chance.”
I thought about that for a second, then nodded. “Fine. She can have the bathroom. But if someone else shadow-walks into this apartment, you better be prepared to shoot.”
“I always am….” He smiled and pulled back his jacket to show me the gun in his custom holster.
“Well, now you’re extra prepared.” I leaned over the back of the couch and picked up the backpack I’d dropped on the center cushion and tossed it to him. He caught it with an “oof,” unzipped it, then “oohed” at the contents.
“Okay, this one’s mine,” he said, pulling his own .45 out, along with a box half-full of the corresponding shells. “But if the rest of these are yours, I have to admit my manhood is slightly threatened here.”
“Yeah, but you’re a little turned on, too, right?” I sat on his lap to start lining the weapons up on the table. Three extra 9mm guns, a .38—I’d brought that one for Anne—and one truly badass, guaranteed-to-blow-a-hole-right-through-you .50-caliber monster.
“More than a little…” Cam muttered, gripping my hips from behind. Then he spotted the .50 caliber and I was all but forgotten. “Christmas, already?” He reached for it, and I slapped his fingers.
“Hands off, little boy. That’s a very grown-up piece of equipment.” Overkill, probably, but you never know when you’re going to need a really big gun.
Cam laughed. “Are we hunting bears? You got an elephant gun in there, too?”
I twisted to grin down at him, feeling guilty for the moment of levity, even as I seized it. “I like power—when I’m wielding it.”
“Mmm… I like it when you’re wielding it, too.” His lips found my neck, and I indulged in one more moment of pleasure before pulling away to bring us both down to earth.
“Okaaaay, back to work.” I slid out of his lap and onto my own chair while he started loading extra clips. “I assume you’ve actually been to Tower’s house. Or…estate, or whatever…?”
“Yeah. It’s not as…overdone as Cavazos’s address, but it’s a good-size property.”
“Big enough to hide an operation like this Skilled transfusion thing?”
“I honestly don’t know.” He shrugged. “It’s not like they let you just wander around the grounds. Well, not like they let me wander. Kori might have wandering privileges.”
“Speaking of which…” I jogged into the bathroom, where I turned off the light and pulled the door halfway closed, leaving more than enough darkness for Kori—and hopefully Hadley—to make a triumphant return.
In the kitchen again, I grabbed two sodas from the fridge—no telling how long they’d been there—and set one in front of Cam. “The way I see it, we can sit here and wait for Kori to bring her back—” which wasn’t going to happen, no matter how hard we wished or how many happy thoughts we threw out into the universe “—or we can track Hadley ourselves.”
We could have tracked Kori—I’d certainly done it before—but we had no way of knowing that Hadley was still with her. For all we knew, she’d turned over the child, then been reassigned. If she heard Anne’s message, she’d have to respond, but we couldn’t afford to sit back and wait for that. What if she never checked her voice mail, or had been ordered not to listen to messages from us?
Cam popped the top on his can and took a long chug. “The real question isn’t whether or not we can find Hadley, but how do we get her back, once we’ve found her. We can’t just go ring the doorbell.”
“You’re crossing bridges we haven’t come to yet. First, let’s find her. We’ll worry about the rest of it then.” I kicked out the chair between us and propped up my feet. “For the moment, at least, we don’t have a blood sample for Hadley, so we’ll have to start with name-tracking.”
“For the moment?”
“Anne may have one.” I’d been thinking about that for the past hour. Some Skilled parents kept blood samples of their children—under lock and key, of course—like normal parents kept their kids’ fingerprints and current picture. As a precaution, for the worst-case scenario. “But if she does, we can’t get to it until she wakes up. Fortunately, we have Hadley’s name, and that should be enough, right?”
“Assuming they haven’t put her on a plane? Yeah.” Cam took another drink from his can, then set it aside. “Do we have her middle names?” he asked, and I shook my head. Anne hadn’t mentioned them, and it would have been rude to ask. Though now that we officially needed it, she would be more than willing to divulge the necessary information—once she woke up. “Okay, then, we’ll start with first and last.” He closed his eyes, blocking everything else out to aid his concentration.
“Hadley Liang.” Cam whispered her name, and I couldn’t help wondering if he felt anything, beyond the normal tracking senses. Would he know it, if he were tracking his own daughter? Would saying her name aloud trigger some kind of primal response deep inside him, even if she did carry some other man’s surname?
After a long couple of minutes and lots of slow, careful breathing, he opened his eyes and frowned. “Nothing. It’s like she doesn’t even exist.”
No. I closed my eyes, fighting down nausea at the thought. “Tower needs her. He wouldn’t kill her as long as he can use her, right?”
Cam shrugged miserably. “I like to think he wouldn’t kill her anyway. She’s just a kid. So…I’m thinking we don’t have her real name. Not all of it, anyway.” Which wasn’t unusual, for Skilled adults. Most of us took on fake names or obscure nicknames once we were old enough to have to sign official documents, like drivers’ licenses and tax forms. But few children had reason to use a fake name.
Then suddenly I understood what he was saying. “Her last name. Shen adopted her, but his last name won’t actually be hers. She’s not a Liang, she’s a Lawson, like Anne.”
“Let’s hope.” He closed his eyes and whispered the new version of her name, and again I waited. And again, quicker this time, he sighed in frustration and opened his eyes. “Nothing. If I knew her personally and already had a feel for her energy signature, I might be able to get at least a blip to let us know she’s alive. But I only met her for a couple of minutes, and her name…just isn’t working. I feel like we’re missing something.”
Oh, shit. “Try Caballero,” I said softly, and Cam’s entire frame went stiff. “If she’s yours, it’s possible Anne gave her your last name.”
“Why would Anne give her my name, but not tell me about it?”
“I don’t know. To protect her?” From exactly what we were doing… Because if Cam didn’t know she had his name, no one else would, either. “Just try it, and we can deal with whatever the result tells us later.”
Cam closed his eyes again, demonstrating a level of concentration he wouldn’t have needed for most other trackings—which just showed how difficult this one was proving. “Hadley…Caballero,” he whispered, and I held my breath, not sure how to feel about the possibility that his paternity might be revealed through a routine tracking. I wasn’t sure how he felt about that possibility, either, which made my nerves a little harder to control.
But a minute later, he looked at me again, this time with an odd mixture of disappointment and relief. “Nothing. If she’s mine, she doesn’t have my name.” He grabbed his soda again and drank as if he was wishing for something stronger. “How the hell does Cavazos expect you to find his kid with one name, when I can’t even find Anne’s with two names?”
“When she wakes up, we can get Hadley’s middle name.” And hopefully a blood sample.
Then I froze as Cam sat straighter, and we both seemed to realize what I’d said at the same time.
“Her middle name…” I mumbled, and he nodded. “If she’s your daughter, her second middle name is yours to give. And you haven’t named her yet.”
“There’s no better time…” he said. “Just like Cavazos.” And he looked sick over the comparison.
I could have happily lived my entire life without ever finding a similarity between Cameron and Ruben, but if it helped us find Hadley… “So, what are you going to name her?” Though I really shouldn’t have asked. It was none of my business, and revealing her potential middle name could put the child in some serious potential danger someday.
But Cam only blinked at me. “I have no idea. I’ve never even thought about it. I always assumed that when I had a kid, I’d have at least a few months’ warning. Time to prepare.”
While he thought about it, I started opening the top cabinets we’d left closed in search of something stronger than soda. And finally, above the fridge, I found a small bottle of very expensive whiskey.
“Go easy on this,” I said, setting it in front of Cam along with a short, clear glass. “I suspect this is going to be a long night.”
“Thanks.” He opened the bottle—the seal hadn’t even been cracked—and poured a double shot, then waved off my offer of ice. “What do you think Cavazos would think of me drinking his whiskey?” Cam took a long sip.
“I’m pretty sure that’s my whiskey, considering how insistent he is that this is my apartment.”
“Well, then, you have excellent taste.” He took a second sip, then set the glass down. “Maybe you should consider staying here occasionally, just for the fringe benefits.”
I frowned at him, leaning over the bar. “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly why he wants me to stay here.”
I let him drink in silence for a few minutes, then I had to nudge. Every moment we wasted was a moment Anne spent without her daughter. A moment Tower could be moving Hadley even farther away from us. “Ideas?” I asked, and he shook his head. “You could always name her after your mother.”
Cam nearly choked on a fresh sip. “I think I should probably tell her she’s a grandmother—maybe—before I start naming unexpected children after her.”
“A valid point.” I hesitated, then pushed forward again. “I hate to rush something this important, but we need to move, Cam. What’cha got?”
“Nothing, yet. I don’t even know if she’s my kid….”
“I know.”
“But if she is, I owe her the courtesy of putting a little thought behind a name she’s going to be stuck with.”
“So pick something pretty.”
He scowled at me, as if I’d just suggested he hang his theoretical daughter over the balcony by one foot. “Screw pretty. She needs something safe. Something with several potential nicknames. Something unrelated to me or to her, so it can’t be guessed. Something random, but not without some aesthetic value. After all, she is a girl.”
“That’s what I was getting at,” I said, both stunned and amused by the level of thought he was putting into it.
“Most people get nine months to think about this….” he complained.
I laughed. “Most girls start naming their future children in junior high.” He glanced at me with both brows raised, and I shook my head vehemently. “Not I. But I will admit to putting almost as much thought into picking out the .50 caliber as you’re putting into this.”
His frown deepened, and his disappointment was almost palpable. “You’d rather have guns than kids?”
“I wouldn’t suggest hanging pistols over a crib as a mobile, but other than that, I don’t consider the two mutually exclusive.” But Cam’s expression didn’t change. And finally I understood. I slid over onto the chair next to his and pulled his chin up so that our gazes met. “Hadley’s not a deal-breaker, Cam. If she’s yours, she’s mine, too. Not like she’s Anne’s, of course. But you’re not going to get rid of me by accepting paternity.”
“Sarafina,” he said, and I blinked.
“What?”
“Sarafina. For her middle name.”
“That’s my middle name.”
“I know. You said if she’s mine, she’s yours, too, and this would make that true. Let me name her after you, Liv. I’ve always thought it was a beautiful name.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help it; I was all gooey inside from a rare moment of mushiness. “Let’s see if it works.”
This time when he closed his eyes, it seemed to mean more. I felt intimately connected to the process, and my next breath seemed to hinge on the gravity of the result. And this time, when he opened his eyes and his disappointed gaze met mine, the breath I held felt too heavy to let go of.
“Nothing. She’s not mine.”
He looked so disappointed that I decided not to mention the other possibility—that Kori had lied about Tower’s intentions. That Hadley could be dead. That was too much to think about at the moment.
“This is so stupid.” Cam leaned with both elbows on the bar. “I didn’t have a daughter yesterday, and I don’t have one today. Nothing’s changed. So why do I feel so…”
“Empty?” I suggested, and he looked up. He didn’t nod, or acknowledge what I’d said, but I could see in his eyes that I was right. And I felt it, too. I’d thought—just for a minute—that he had a daughter, and that she could be like a daughter to me, too. Or maybe more like a niece. Either way, she would be someone small and fragile that I could help keep safe from the world and its iron fists.
But then that moment was over, the fantasy shattered, and I remembered that in real life, I was in love with a man I couldn’t survive and bound to a man I couldn’t escape. I remembered that I collected guns and counted scars, and that maybe I wouldn’t be the best influence on someone as impressionable as Anne’s young daughter was sure to be.
“Well, I guess that’s that.” Cam crushed his empty soda can and screwed the lid back on the bottle of whiskey. “Name-tracking is a no-go, unless Anne has some more accurate information for us.”
“How long do you expect her to sleep?” I asked, and he glanced at his watch.
“It’s already been almost two hours and I gave her a small dose. She could wake up anytime.”
I stood and headed for the bedroom, and he called after me. “Careful. Mama bears wake up cranky.” Especially those who wake up missing their cubs. I peeked into the bedroom and found Anne stirring slowly, sluggishly, on the bed. She was waking up.
I sat on the edge of the mattress, and when I put a hand on Anne’s arm, she opened her eyes. She blinked several times, then sat up slowly and stared at me, her hair mussed as if she’d slept for days. Her nap obviously hadn’t been very restful.
“What happened?” she croaked, eyes still red from crying.
“Cam sedated you.”
“Bastard…” she mumbled, pushing tangled hair back from her face. She cleared her throat, then met my gaze again. “Hadley?”
I glanced at my lap, then made myself meet her gaze. “We’re still working on it.”
“I don’t understand. I left Kori a message directly asking her to bring Hadley back. She can’t ignore that.”
“I know. We don’t think she’s listening to her messages. Cam thinks she’s been ordered not to.” I sighed, then plunged into the rest of it. “Cam tried to track her, but…something’s off about her name, Anne. Whatever’s going on, you need to tell us. We can’t find her if we don’t have all the information.”
“I can’t…” She scrubbed both hands over her face, then left them there, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
I pulled her hands away from her face and made her look at me. “You don’t have any choice, Annika. We’ve tried everything we could think of. Cam tried to track her using Shen’s last name, then yours. He even tried his own, but that didn’t work, and neither did giving her a middle name. We know she’s not his, so whatever you’re hiding…well, it can’t be worse than that, right?”
Anne frowned, momentarily distracted from her tears by obvious confusion. “What? Why would she be Cam’s?”
I watched her expectantly, waiting for comprehension to sink in, and when it didn’t, I had to actually say what I’d been avoiding discussing. “Anne, I know about the two of you. At the party. Six years ago.” Her eyes widened, and I barreled on. “Kori told me. So, on the off chance that Hadley was his, Cam tried giving her a paternal middle name, then tracking that name. But it didn’t work. So we need to know—who is her father? Or at the very least, what’s her real name? The whole thing, Anne.”
For a moment, she looked as if she was actually going to answer, as hard as that might be. Then she burst into tears instead.
Cam’s footsteps echoed in the hall while I tried to calm her down, and when he appeared in the doorway, she saw him and cried even harder. “Anne,” he said, as I pulled her gently to her feet and guided her toward the door, “I know you’re upset, but we don’t have time for this. Actually, we don’t know how much time we have. We don’t know much of anything, and we’re not going to until we find her. So we need you to calm down and tell us everything you know. Everything.”
She nodded unsteadily and wiped her face with the tissue I handed her, then glanced back and forth between us, still sniffling. “Okay. But I’m gonna need a drink.”
Cam forced a smile. “That, we can do.”
In the breakfast nook, I pulled a chair out from the table for Anne while Cam poured two fingers of whiskey over ice. He set the glass on the table in front of her, and Anne traded the box of tissues for her drink. She downed half of it, winced, then held the glass in both hands and stared into it.
“I haven’t told you guys the truth about all of this. About any of it, really.”
“Yeah, we gathered,” I said softly, trying to set her at ease.
“The truth is that I don’t know who Hadley’s father is. I don’t know what her full name is. I couldn’t even swear that Hadley is her real first name. All I know for sure is that she isn’t five—she’s seven. Fortunately, she’s kind of small for her age, so no one’s really questioned that. They just think she’s very bright, which is true. Hell, she even thinks she’s five.”
Damn. I blinked at Cam, relieved that he looked just as speechless and confused as I felt. But before I could formulate some kind of response, Anne went on.
“Hadley turned seven last month. And she’s not mine.”