James’s eyes go wide. He puts a hand over his breast pocket protectively. For a moment, he looks on the verge of saying something but, instead, he presses his lips into a tight line. I know he can’t trust me with any details, but it’s better this way.
“It should be a win-win all around,” I put in. “Fewer weapons for Eklyptors, more for Igniters.”
His gray eyes narrow in assent, and I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get. If IgNiTe is hurting for weapons, that’s not something I need to know—not when I sleep in the lion’s den every night, and I’m prime candidate for “Deranged Agent Takeover Syndrome.”
“We’ll check it out thoroughly. Thank you. Now …” He sticks his hand inside his jacket and pulls out an orange zip bag. “I need your blood.”
I frown. “What for? Kristen’s tests don’t work on me. She must be checking for antibodies, so I’ll always test positive after that crazy fucker took over me.” I gesture toward my head.
“We know that, but—”
“Look, I’m not an Eklyptor.” I know the conviction in my tone is useless after all the trouble Azrael caused for IgNiTe, but it’s there nonetheless.
“You can’t blame me for wanting more proof than your word,” James says firmly, though not unkindly. “Kristen wants to take another look at your blood. Maybe there’s a marker that sets you apart from Eklyptors, and she can develop a test that puts you in the clear. Wouldn’t that be nice? For all of us.”
I scoff. “Sounds too good to be true, but yeah … it would be nice.” I dare not think of what could happen if James and the crew were certain that I’m human. Would they let me go with them? Would my stint with Whitehouse come to an end?
James gestures to my arm. I take off my jacket and let it fall to the ground. He pulls out a thick elastic band from the bag and wraps it around by bicep. With surprising practice, he prepares the syringe, finds a vein and sticks the needle in the crook of my elbow. I wince, watching as he presses a glass vial into the cartridge and blood begins to flow and fill the tube. He removes the elastic band and draws two more tubes of blood.
“Done.” He pulls the needle and stuffs everything back in the zip bag.
“It didn’t hurt,” I say, surprised.
“Yeah, I’m a regular old nurse these days. Been getting lots of practice.”
I can only imagine all the people they’ve had to test. Aydan told me there are camps where the elderly, children and those humans who can’t fight are kept safely. As is to be expected, everyone is tested carefully before being sent there—buzzing or not. Of course, those who can fight are also scrutinized. In their case, it’s actually a daily thing, to ensure no one is infected while out on duty.
Suddenly, I remember Hannah and wonder how all of this looks from her perspective. I glance over her way. She’s sitting still as if frozen, her eyes wide and full of questions.
“I’ll have to test her before I take her with me. We all carry a handful of tests for emergencies. There’s no buzzing coming from her, but one can never be too careful.” He pulls another bag from his jacket. This one is blue. “I’ll keep one and give you the rest. Maybe there’s somewhere you can hide them just in case.” He takes one small packet out of the bag and hands me the rest.
“Thanks.” I doubt they’ll be of any use to me, but you never know. I pick up my jacket and put the tests away in one of its pockets.
“Did you at least kill the scouts?” James asks, gesturing toward Hannah.
In way of answer, my mouth twists into a satisfied smirk.
“Good. I hate those bastards. Well, we’ll be in touch. I should be heading back.” He gives me an apologetic smile.
“How’s Aydan … and the others?” I add the last part hastily. I got used to meeting with Aydan, having a more frequent link to the crew, but I haven’t seen him in a while. I don’t even know why. Things are more secretive than ever.
“They’re fine. Busy. Fighting.”
Just as I expected, he doesn’t give me much. “I’m glad. Well, thanks for coming out to meet me,” I say, staring at my boots. “I know you’re too busy to deal with the likes of me.”
James sets a heavy hand on my shoulder and gives me a gentle shake, forcing me to look at him. “If we had more like you, we’d be in better shape.”
I blink slowly, shake my head and, suddenly, find my vision blurring with tears. “If it wasn’t for me, for my weakness, Oso would still be alive. Also Xave.”
Crap! Get it together, Marci.
I can’t come undone in front of James. I need him to see me as a balanced person, someone who can control her emotions and doesn’t fall apart while begging for misery-canceling sedatives. Been there, done that. I sniffle and fight to keep back the tears. They spill down my cheeks in spite of my efforts.
“Look at me. Look at me!” he orders as I continue to stare at my boots. I can’t lift my eyes to his. My guilt is too heavy.
He puts a finger under my chin and forces my face upward. “It wasn’t your fault.” His tone is firm, but no matter how convincing, I don’t believe him.
“I need you to understand that, Marci,” he continues. “If you need to blame someone, blame me.”
I blink and search his troubled gray eyes. For a moment, I think he must be saying this for my benefit, but he’s never been the kind to engage in idle talk.
“I’ve been fighting this evil for a long time.” He breaks eye contact, turns sideways and lets his eyes wander over the many tombstones. They dot the grassy area like dominoes. “So long that I forget how difficult it is in the beginning, how disjointed and disorienting life becomes. All I seem to remember is the strength needed to overtake the threat, the will necessary to stay ahead and remain in control. From the beginning, all I saw in you was that strength, your determination to fight.
“I forgot how young you are. It was unfair to expect so much from you. When I finally tried to protect you, it was too late. After Xave died, I thought being with your mother and away from us would help, but …” He shakes his head. There’s really nothing else he could add. There was no way he could have known Luke had turned Karen into an Eklyptor or that The Takeover was imminent.
He shakes his head. “If I’d focused more on us, the team, rather than my blind desire for revenge, Xave, Oso and so many others would still be alive. Marci, I … I failed you.” James’s voice breaks. And it undoes me even further. He’s never talked to me like this. I never imagined he felt this way.
“So blame me.” He turns and faces me, his gray eyes as intent and decisive as ever. “Only me. For what has passed and what is to come. Because I shouldn’t expect you to go back and continue to put your life on the line, except that … I do. Because we need you. We need everyone willing and able to fight, especially if they’re as strong as you are. And for that, I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, emotions crashing against my chest like massive waves.
He doesn’t blame me. He doesn’t blame me.
For weeks, all I’ve known is despair and nightmares, both driven by the purest guilt imaginable. Xave and Oso’s faces live in my mind in their most ghastly forms: twisted in shock and pain as they died. Xave passed on my watch. Oso, at my own hands. In the end, they’re both casualties of my inability to control my agent and abilities, casualties of my weakness.
Tears flow freely, but I buckle down and manage to cry silently, even as sobs rise to my throat, desperate to get out.
James looks down at me, his gaze brimming with sympathy and emotion. “I hope you really are Marci or I’ll feel like a real fool