Warner looks furious.
His hair is disheveled, the sash on his robe tied too quickly. He’s shirtless, barefoot, and probably naked under that robe, which is the only reason I force myself to meet his eyes.
Shit.
He wasn’t joking even a little bit. He’s, like, genuinely pissed.
And his voice is low—lethal—when he says, “I should’ve let you freeze to death in Kent’s old apartment. I should’ve let those rodents devour your carefully preserved carcass. I should’ve—”
“Listen, man, I’m really not trying to—”
“Don’t interrupt me.”
My mouth snaps shut.
He takes a sharp, steady breath. His eyes are like fire. Green. Ice. Fire. In that order. “Why do you do this to me? Why?”
“Um. Okay, I know this will be hard for a narcissist like you to understand, but this has nothing to do with you. J is my friend. In fact, she was my friend first. We were friends long before you ever came around.”
Warner’s eyes widen with outrage. And before he has a chance to speak, I say— “My bad. I’m sorry.” I hold up my hands in apology. “I forgot about the whole memory-wiping thing for a second. But honestly, whatever. As far as my memories are concerned, I knew her first.”
And then, all of a sudden—
Warner frowns.
It’s like someone hits a switch, and the fire in his eyes goes out. He’s studying me closely now, and it’s making me nervous.
“What’s going on?” he says. He tilts his head at me, and, a moment later, his eyes widen in surprise. “Why are you terrified?”
Jello shows up before I can answer.
She smiles at me—this big, bright, happy thing that always warms my heart—and I’m relieved to discover that she’s fully clothed. Not naked-under-a-bathrobe-clothed, but, like, she’s wearing a coat and shoes and she’s ready to walk out the door kind of clothed.
I feel like I can finally breathe.
But in an instant, her smile is gone. And when she goes suddenly pale, when her eyes pull together in concern—I feel the tiniest bit better. I know it sounds strange, but there’s something reassuring about her reaction; it means that at least something is right with the world. Because I knew. I knew that, unlike everyone else, she’d see right away that I wasn’t okay. That I’m not okay. No superpowers necessary.
And somehow, that means everything.
“Kenji,” she says, “what’s wrong?”
I can hardly hold it together anymore. A dull, throbbing pain is pressing against the back of my left eye; black spots fade in and out of my vision, pockmarking everything. I feel like I can’t get enough air, like my chest is too small, my brain too big.
“Kenji?”
“It’s James,” I say, my voice coming out thin. Wrong. “Anderson took him. Anderson took James and Adam. He’s holding them hostage.”
Seven
We’re back in the war room.
I’m standing at the door with J by my side—Warner needed a minute to pick out a cute outfit and braid his hair—and in the fifteen minutes I was gone, the atmosphere in this room changed dramatically. Everyone keeps glancing between me and J. Glaring, more like. Brendan looks tired. Winston looks irritated. Ian looks pissed. Lily looks pissed. Sam looks pissed. Nouria looks pissed.
Castle looks super pissed.
He’s staring at me through narrowed eyes, and our years together have taught me enough about Castle’s body language to know exactly what he’s thinking right now.
Right now, he’s thinking that he’s more than a little disappointed in me, that he feels betrayed by my reneging on a promise to stop using the f-word, that I deliberately disrespected him, and that I should be grounded for two weeks for shouting at his daughter and her wife. Also, he’s embarrassed. He expected more from me.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper, sir.”
Castle’s jaw tenses as he appraises me. “Are you feeling better?”
No. “Yes.”
“Then we’ll discuss this later.”
I look away, too tired to drum up the necessary remorse. I’m too spent. Depleted. Wrung out. I feel like my insides have been scraped out with blunt, rusted tools, but somehow I’m still here. Still standing. Somehow, having J by my side is making this whole thing more tolerable. It feels good to know that there’s someone here who’s on my team.
After a full minute of awkward silence, J speaks.
“So,” she says, letting the word hang in the air for a moment. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about this meeting?”