The Revealed Page 6
He types something on the computer and then looks back at me expectantly. Conversation over. I turn from my father’s office but am surprised when I hear his voice calling me back. “Lily.” He’s even taken his hands entirely off the keyboard this time.
I move back toward him until I’m standing in the center of the room.
“They can’t have you,” he says and stares at me hard.
Looking in my father’s eyes has always been a bit like looking in a mirror. We have eyes that can’t seem to settle on a color. Officially it’s hazel, but there are blues and grays with the greens, golds, and browns, too. The colors can’t seem to make up their minds, unlike my father, who is resolute.
“They can’t take you.” He says each word in a cold, clipped voice.
I don’t know what to say, how to comfort him when I’m just as afraid. “I’ll always be your daughter,” I say.
He nods once, then is back to business on his keyboard. The moment has passed.
I walk back down the hall, but instead of going back to my room I head down the stairs and out the side door. I tromp onto the grass and make my way down to the guesthouse below the main quarters.
I knock on the back door. “Jeremy?” I continue knocking. “Jeremy, it’s Lily.”
After a few more knocks, the door opens.
He’s wearing jeans and a simple white T-shirt, not his usual crisp white button-down shirt and dark-suit uniform. “What do you know?” I ask him.
“I’ve been at home all morning, Lily. I don’t know anything.”
“I don’t believe you.” I step around him and walk inside.
Jeremy adjusts his shoulders so he’s standing squarely. I’ve bothered him, I know, but I’m too curious about the investigation to care. I need information.
“Maybe you’re working from home,” I say pointedly. “I just talked to my father and he’s going over your notes.”
The familiarity of his house always strikes me. My mother gave him all of our old furniture and decorations from the house in Arizona. It’s a southwestern style, with rustic leather couches and pictures of cacti and sunsets on the wall.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” He turns. “Want some tea?” His words are curt, as rigid as his stance.
“You’re going to tell me the head of my father’s security really has no idea what’s going on with the investigation into last night’s attack?”
I head into the living room. Jeremy has his laptop lying out on the coffee table and papers arranged all around in neat little stacks. It’s just the organized mess I was hoping to find. I pick up one of the papers. It’s a police report from last night.
I hold up the report and raise my eyebrow. “Off duty, huh?”
“Lily,” he says, grabbing the paper, “you know that’s classified information.”
“Come on Jeremy.” I clench my fists at my side. “Last night affected me probably more than anyone. There’s a very good chance I was the reason they were there in the first place.”
“We don’t have evidence to know that for sure.”
“I’ve got plenty. Want to see the collection of little black notes I’ve received? Why are they sending them if they aren’t planning on following through? Is it just a game? Do you even know what they want?”
Jeremy sighs, clearly without the answers I so desperately seek. “We have nothing. They’re ghosts.” He picks up some of the papers, scans them, and then throws them down. “Nothing.”
I plop down on his couch.
He remains standing stiffly by the door.
“There has to be something we’re missing.” I have long since grown impatient with The Revealed and the lack of answers. “What about the plants from last night? Did you know they could do that? They used them like weapons.”
“There was a similar incident in Florida last month.”
“What kind of incident?” It’s like pulling teeth to get anything out of him. If he’d just tell me what he knew, I’d leave him alone.
“With a man. He’d been tied up with vines.”
“The Revealed did that?”
“So he claimed. He said he was attacked without motive.”
“And the glass?” I press on. “How did they shatter all the glass like that?”
“The Revealed’s powers come in their ability to manipulate things around them. We’ve compiled records of incidents regarding their abilities. Anything elemental is under their control. They can create fire, wind, water,” he gestures like he’s pulling something out of the air.
“Anything elemental?” I consider this. “So everything?”
“We don’t know their limits yet. But there are limits. Some are stronger than others. Once we find their weaknesses and limitations, we think we can fight them.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all,” Jeremy sighs. “You’ll be the first to know if I find that missing link.”
“Jeremy,” I groan, “you can’t just brush me off so easily. I want to know about the other incidents. And, if they control the elements, how did they make security drop all their guns? How did they shatter the glass?”
“It’s classified,” he stresses again. “All of it.”
“I somehow doubt that,” I grumble under my breath. That’s a classic line just to get me to leave things alone, but this time his tone made it clear the conversation was over.
Jeremy gives me a surly look as he watches me leave.
I walk back outside and march through the grass feeling frustrated. I hate the unknown. I’ve never liked surprises. Clear paths are always best. Plans. I need plans. And keeping me locked up in this house is definitely not a solid plan. I don’t know how much more proof The Revealed need to give my parents.
The property seems to close in on me and I wander along the lines of the fence, tracing my fingers along the rails.
I think of the gala and the way The Revealed marched in as if they were on the VIP list.
Though I would never admit it out loud, thoughts of the gala make my mind stray to Kai, and I lose sight of my mission for information. Just the thought of him makes my pulse spike and my jaw clench in frustration. He is so arrogant! And the way he smiles, like he knows everything. He’s just used to getting his way because he’s good-looking and charming. And what was he thinking, helping me like that at the gala? He always has to be the hero. Why does he have to try so hard? Does he always have to make sure he impresses every single person?
As I approach the entrance gate, I notice a parked black car, hidden around the corner and out of view of the house. I crouch down and hide myself behind the trunk of a tree. Security drives Escalades. I have no idea who else would have reason to be parked outside my house.
Paparazzi? Or something more sinister?
I peer around the corner of the tree trunk. The car is idling. I reach in my pocket for my cell phone. Jeremy’s number is on speed dial. It’s better if he’s perturbed I interrupt him again than if someone breaks onto the property.
A hand covers my mouth.
CHAPTER FIVE
I shriek and drop my phone. Instinct kicks in, and I move to fight. I throw my arm back, but a hand catches my wrist and pins it against the tree.
“What are you doing out here?” a familiar voice whispers in my ear, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath.
“Kai!” I spin around and the hand drops from my mouth. “What are you doing out here!”
“Trying to figure out a way to get your attention without alerting your mob of security.”
“You probably already have!” I say, pointing at the camera in the corner of the entrance gate, which pans back and forth over the property.
He raises an eyebrow, and a small grin dimples his cheek. “A camera?” he nearly laughs. “Please, I disabled that thing as soon as I got here. It’s on a continual fifteen-second loop now until I press here,” he points to a button on his cell phone.
I just stare at him with my mouth gaping a
bit, unsure if he’s joking with me.
“Technology’s kind of my thing,” he explains with a shrug. “Why do you think the military keeps me around?”
He’s not kidding. I look back at the cameras, wondering if he can teach me that trick.
“You disabled my camera?” I stammer. “Why would you do that? Why are you even here?”
“Because I found these,” he says, holding out a folder, “in my father’s office. I figured you’d like to hang on to them. Or destroy them.”
I open the envelope he hands me and a series of images fall out into my hand. Images from my joyride the day before the gala. Westerfield wasn’t lying when he said he had evidence of my escapade.
“Do you have a lighter?” I ask, flipping through the images.
“Don’t smoke,” he shakes his head.
“That’s new,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“What?”
I wish I could take it back. “You used to. Smoke.”
“A few times in high school, I guess. How did you know that?”
I shrug quickly, tearing into the photos, until they’re shreds around my feet. I grind the shards into dirt. The moisture from the soil bleeds into the edges, further ruining the images.
“You sure didn’t waste time making sure they disappear.”
“No,” I breathe feeling relief swell in my core. “I didn’t want to have to explain. Those are the last things I want my parents to find.”
“It’s done.” I can tell his answer is also a promise to me that he will keep this secret.
“Well. Thanks again.” I turn toward the house. I have to get back inside before the security patrols notice me. Kai being here won’t go over well. He’s the son of the rival candidate, after all.
“Don’t,” Kai says and stops me before I can take a step.
I glanced back at him with a questioning gaze.
“Don’t go back inside.”
“What?”
His eyes say he already has a plan. “You don’t want to.”
“What?” My gaze narrows.
“Come out with me. We can go anywhere you want. I’ll have you home by dark.”
“Oh you’re funny.” I roll my eyes.
He doesn’t smile, just watches me.
I snort, “Go outside with you? I wouldn’t even get past the—” I gesture down the road before glancing back at the cameras. “My parents would ki—”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s the point, isn’t it? To do something unexpected?”
He has me there. My voice hitches.
There are a million options in this moment. The right one is to tell Kai to leave. I could insist he go, or call Jeremy. I could say thanks, but no thanks. This is a bad idea.
It is a bad idea. Kai Westerfield is a bad idea.
But going back inside that house—staying locked away for my life because I’m scared of the outside world—is an even-worse idea. The Revealed had their chance to take me. I’m not just going to wait around for them to try again.
Instead, I walk right up to Kai until my face is only inches away from his, studying those deep green-and-gold eyes until I’m sure he isn’t playing around. His expression is unflinching.
“So what do you say?” he asks.
I keep waiting for him to laugh, but it doesn’t happen.
“Anywhere I want?”
“Anywhere.”
“Before six?”
He nods. “I’ll have you home before six.”
It’s almost like he’s challenging me. But there’s something more behind his gaze. It’s adventurous and encouraging.
I don’t want to say no.
Two hundred and forty-nine days until I’m nineteen. Unknown days until The Revealed come for me. What if today is my last?
“Fine,” I walk to the driver’s side door and hold out my palm, “but I get to drive.”
He grins in an earnest way that crinkles his cheeks and tosses the keys over the car. I get in, and he pushes the button on his phone, reprogramming the cameras back to normal. I can’t help the gawk that surely covers my face. “How do you—” I gesture to the phone.
“There’s an app for that,” he says and shrugs, chuckling. “I like programming, so I just modified an existing software. You know how you can use devices to sync with your lights and music?” He waits until I nod before he continues, “Same idea, just with a camera. I hacked into your property’s security system and then applied the setting to the specific camera.”
My face is blank with confusion. If I didn’t know what Kai looked like, I’d say the boy talking right now would be wearing suspenders, a white button-down shirt, and a pocket protector, all while pushing his round-rimmed glasses up his nose as he spoke. But I can see the sinewy muscles out of the corner of my eye and watch as he smoothly flicks that trademark dark hair from his face.
“Who are you?” I ask.
He laughs. “Your worst enemy.”
I don’t laugh, because according to the press and the rest of the nation, that’s kind of an accurate statement. Our fathers are now the biggest rivals in the country, if not the world.
He seems to catch on to my train of thought but breezes past it. “Being good at technology definitely comes in handy. So where are we going?” he asks, staring out at the road around me.
“Hold on.” This time I do allow a smirk and press the pedal to the ground. The car revs to life. I breeze past a billboard featuring my father’s face, huge and centered. It reads, “For a better tomorrow. Mark Atwood for president.” It makes me feel like I’m being followed. In fact, I most likely am.
“Security will probably still track us down,” I tell Kai, glancing again in the rearview mirror.
“I’m sure they will if they’re anything like my father’s. You’ll have to lose them. If you can.”
“Challenge accepted,” I say, running a yellow light and turning onto the freeway.
The surprise of freedom lurches through my veins.
It’s been over six months since I’ve been on the road like this, and I was never allowed to be in the driver’s seat. It feels so freeing to be in control. If I wanted, I could keep the car in drive for as far as it would take me. It’s liberating, though I’m not planning on going to the end of the Earth. Instead, I pull along the road heading down a familiar path until the houses thin and all that remains around us is empty land.
There are large fields on the outskirts of town, run by the state as part of reconstruction. Some of the genetically modified crops—corn, sunflowers, and wheat, among others—are almost as tall as houses. The taller the crop, the more produce they yield and the more mouths the country can feed. The harvest is only a few weeks away.
That is where I drive.
I remember when I was a young girl—twelve or thirteen—going out to these fields with my father after the first planting. As a symbolic reflection of new beginnings, representatives from across the colonies came to help sow the seeds. These crops now sustain the population, making it possible for our new nation to rebuild. My father helped oversee the process. I was even allowed to plant my own seed. Now there are so many fields stretching out across the acres that I can’t remember where it was. It doesn’t matter. The point is that we all had a part in getting to this place.
I park the car on the grass, and we get out. A few people work around us. I can see small silhouettes for miles on end. They will lose the light soon enough, and their day will be done. They don’t pay any attention to us, though. The fields are open for anyone to visit any time. It isn’t uncommon to find people here just enjoying the sun.
I run through the blades, hitting the shoots at full sprint. The stalks reach out to me, gently slapping my arms. It’s like being a child again, laughing and feeling the world at my fingertips. At the center is a small, circular clearing—a marker to prevent people from getting completely lost. I lie on the ground in the center of the circle, spreading my fingers along the dirt. I clo
se my eyes and breathe in the air, smiling as the sun kisses my face, neck, and legs.
Kai breaks through just behind me, and I can hear him stop.
Silence fills the space between us.
“What?” I ask, not opening my eyes, though I can feel his gaze.
He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says, and sits down beside me. “Out of all the places you could go … ?”
I shrug. “I feel comfortable here.”
In fact, lying here in the dirt, I feel better than I have in a long time. I stretch out and know that these fields continue for as far as the eye can see. No fences in sight. The sky above me has no limits. All the stress about The Revealed and the unknown seems to melt away in the middle of this field with Kai.
Really, I shouldn’t think like this. I don’t know him. I haven’t even spoken to him since high school. Even then we didn’t hang out. Ever.
If you had told sixteen-year-old me that two years later I would be lying in a field with Kai Westerfield, I would have called you crazy. But I guess if you’d told me that I would be in these fields because he gave me the only way to escape my house, I guess that would have made sense. I was never made to stay in one place. I always had dreams for bigger things, faraway places.
“Someday I’m going to leave this city,” I tell him, “and never come back.”
“You say that now,” he replies lazily, “but you’ll miss it.”
“Maybe I will, but I won’t come back. Isn’t that why you joined the military? To get away?” I open my eyes and turn my head to look at him.
He’s staring back at me. His eyes are glinting with curiosity. He scans my face and I realize how close we are. My nerves hit me.
“I guess that’s part of the reason,” he admits, his voice low, “but I also want to be part of the new nation. I want to help it grow, be the best it can be.” His cheeks curl as he smiles. “Kind of cheesy though.” He looks back up at the sky.
“It isn’t,” I shake my head.
I have this urge to reach out to him. As if a tangible connection would make him see I understand.
But I keep my hand at my side.