“Your glyph,” he said, coming around the side of the bed so I could see him. He looked odd without a smile touching his face or eyes. I looked away, touching my chest. The ache was gone now, the fire doused, but the tenderness was still there. “Light finds Light.”
“A tracking device?” I asked, lifting my head.
Felix mistook my awe for annoyance, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re lucky Joaquin likes to keep his victims conscious while he toys with them. If you’d been unconscious, or dead, it would’ve been impossible to locate you down there.”
Because the glyph would have gone dead as well.
I turned away from his accusing eyes and sat up, realizing I was in the same room I’d recovered in after Micah had turned me into Olivia. It was a hospital just outside Vegas that served as the troop’s cover for medical emergencies and recovery. Since it was after dawn-both too late and too early to return to the sanctuary-I gathered we were biding our time until the next crossing.
I knew why Felix was here, of course, just as I knew someone else was stationed outside the door. The rest had probably gathered in one of the conference rooms to discuss me, and while it rubbed to be the topic of conversation again, they had just collectively saved my life. Besides, the thought that I’d failed them all once again shamed me, adding to the misery brought on by my capture. And my dream.
So instead I turned my thoughts to Felix’s words, how he thought me lucky to have been conscious while under Joaquin’s thumb. Toyed was such a benign word for what he’d done. He’d revived shattered memories knowing that’s what had driven me all these years, through my young adulthood, into superherodom, and ultimately into that dank and infested hillside. Just the way he’d wanted, I thought, sighing. Just as he’d intended.
“Why do you have to make it so hard on yourself?” Felix asked, and I drew my gaze up to his in surprise, then found I couldn’t hold it, the sympathy in his eyes too much to bear. I turned away, but knew as soon as he moved to my side, his breath stirring my rumpled hair, his body warming my bare shoulder as if his hand were hovering just there. I curled back up on the bed and closed my eyes, a sigh lifting from behind me as I did it. “Every time you act alone you make it harder to trust you. It’s like you go out of your way to remind us that you’re not really Olivia Archer…”
That I was someone they really didn’t know.
“And still we help you. It’d be nice, for a change, if you’d do the same.”
But I couldn’t even help myself.
Felix sighed, as if I’d spoken aloud. “You can start by working with us, as a team. That’s what a troop is, you know.” He hesitated-I heard the catch in his voice-but plunged ahead when I remained unmoving. “You want so badly to exact your revenge that you’re going to get us all killed.”
I half whirled at that. “You didn’t have to come after me!”
Felix’s eyes narrowed as he began shaking his head. “Haven’t you heard a word I said? Yes, we did.”
Because we were a troop. I swallowed hard, but couldn’t form a reply, and when he realized there’d be no tantrum or argument, he huffed and turned his back on me, probably thinking me a lost cause.
Probably thinking they should’ve left me underground.
I’m sure it was against direct order, but he left the room after that, locking the door behind him. I was glad. The stagnant scent of his disgust made me want to hide my face.
18
I took the meal they brought me at noon, the other they served at five, and waited as patiently as possible while I counted the minutes until dusk. Finally, even my guilt and lingering sorrow burned off like morning fog along the left coast, and by six I’d had enough of cooling my heels. I stormed over to the door, intent on plowing through whoever was seated on the other side. A good confrontation would get me feeling more like myself.
The door swung open just as violently as I’d meant it to, but I had to jerk back to avoid getting beaned in the head-again-then froze when I saw the faces of the five heroes assembled there. A slew of magazines struck my chest with enough force that I stumbled back a step. “What the fuck is this?”
I glanced down at the floor, and realized Warren hadn’t thrown magazines, but manuals. There were multiple copies, but only two editions, and they each had my image emblazoned on the front. The first was titled The Archer: Ambushed. The second, The Boneyard Breach.
“Umm…” I said, when what I meant to say was, Oh shit.
Warren’s brows grew together in fury. Micah, who’d come in behind him, crossed his arms, his gaze equally heavy on my face. Hunter cursed and shook his head, while Vanessa only stared. Felix didn’t look at me at all.
I’d known this was coming, of course. I’d had two weeks to prepare an answer, longer than I’d thought since everyone had been so occupied with the virus that reading comics had been the last thing on their minds. Someone, however, had concluded my appearance at Joaquin’s home hadn’t sprung up out of nowhere, and they’d gone to Master Comics to do some investigating of their own.
“Okay, I know how this looks-”
“No,” Warren’s voice was a whip as he stepped into the room. “If you knew how this looked, you’d be backed against that far wall, prepared to fight your way past the five of us or die trying.”
Taken aback, my explanation died on my lips, and I looked from Warren to the others, searching for some sign that he was exaggerating. But their expressions didn’t soften or change. He waited until my gaze had returned to his, then raised a fist before pointing one finger in the air. “You hunted down and killed a Shadow-one who knew about your hidden identity-and didn’t say a thing-”
“But have you read it? Did you see why?”
He ignored my question, and ticked off another offense. “You gained the aureole without telling any of us, and were therefore off our radars for a twelve-hour period. A period in which we may have needed you.”
“I’m perfectly safe when I possess the aureole,” I said, immediately regretting it. I only sounded arrogant.
Warren held up another finger, his middle one, which, I was sure, wasn’t by coincidence. “You arranged a meeting with Joaquin at Master Comics, and discussed this troop-”
“I did not! I was told by a reliable source he’d be there, and I’d have done more than talk with him if it weren’t a designated safe zone!”
Warren held up his entire hand now, stepping forward as he did so, and I stopped talking. Very quietly, in a voice so faint you wouldn’t have heard the individual words without superstrength hearing, he continued, “And after I gave you a direct order to remain in the sanctuary, you breached the hole in the boneyard’s walls, leaving the sanctuary vulnerable again, so you could meet with that same source on a rooftop above a crime scene where your entire troop was gathered…and could be picked off one by one.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way.
Which was, of course, Warren’s point. I hadn’t thought at all.
Micah stepped forward, an expression of pure hurt staining his eyes, and shame overran my anger. “You’ve known all along what we’re dealing with, haven’t you?” he asked.
I closed my eyes, knowing an admission would be more damning in their eyes than all of Warren’s points put together. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to think of a way to spin this so they’d understand, but that was futile. My troop thought in terms of black and white. Right or wrong. Shadow or Light. Opening my eyes, I found Micah next to me, and though the truth was already reflected in his face, I knew he wanted me to say it.