“Because the world needs to know the truth of Primus Sanguis and what N.A.I.S.—”
Jo held up a hand to stop him. “That’s all I needed to hear.” It was enough to prove a key similarity in the character of the Charlie in this world, and the Charlie she’d known.
She looked to the computer and for a brief moment, her consciousness waged against her. Even if she could argue that she was in a glass house and shouldn’t throw stones, and even if she found herself agreeing with Charlie in a way, did she have an obligation to stop him? After all, people were dying.
But they weren’t innocent people. Who got to draw the line between vigilante and serial killer? The people in power? It was best to keep her hands off the whole affair, Jo decided. Plus, there was a more pressing matter—Pan. If Jo was alive, her other half was too, somewhere, and who knew what havoc she was currently unleashing on an unsuspecting world.
“I won’t tell anyone what you’re doing,” Jo vowed. “No anonymous tips. No turning you in. If you get caught down the line due to your own stupidity, that’ll be on you. But do this for me, and I walk out the door—out of your life forever. You get my silence, and the chance to close the file that’s been bugging you.
“A fair deal? Right?”
Charlie studied her. Jo wondered what he was looking for—if he was trying to use his sensors to pick up perspiration, or changes in heartbeat, or any other physiological clues that she was lying. That was, if Jo could even give off those signals in her current state. Whatever mental test he was putting her through, she must have passed, because Charlie turned back to the computer.
“You want to go by rail, or by air?”
Jo took it to be a sign that their deal now stood. “By air. It should be faster, right?”
“Without doubt . . . I just didn’t know if you wanted to be on dragonback for forty minutes.”
Jo stopped all movement. “Say that again?”
“What?”
“The last bit.”
“Forty minutes?”
“The other last bit.”
“Dragonback?”
Oh, yes. She’d have a lot to learn about this new world.
29.Far From Over
Two hours later, nearly all of one spent on one of the most thrilling and terrifying flights of her life, Jo was standing in front of a large, glass skyscraper, legs like jelly and heart threatening to beat its way out of her chest. She told herself it was leftover adrenaline from her first time flying dragonback, but she knew it was more than that.
It was fear. Fear of the unknown, of all the differences this world could hold over her head. Fear of what she might find when and if she managed to reach Snow, of what Pan have been doing all this time.
Fear of the man on the other side of these glass walls, who she hoped would have all the answers.
Wayne and she had left on some awkward terms, if he even remembered her at all. What if she’d come all this way only to be laughed at and sent packing? Or worse, what if he remembered her and refused to help, wiping his hands of their situation, ofher, altogether.
It’s not like they had the Society anymore, forcing them together. He’d known the most out of all the Society’s members. . . perhaps he (rightfully) blamed her for trying to keep things secret from all of them.
But Wayne was her only solid lead so far, her only light at the end of a winding, labyrinthine tunnel of questions about the new world she’d literally been dropped into. She’d be foolish to waste it, regardless of her fears. So, with a breath of resolve, Jo pushed her way through the massive double doors and into the intricate decor of the lobby.
As her eyes scanned the layout, her magic automatically searching for any and all ways she might be able to break into his office (once she found it), she couldn’t deny how much the atmosphere reminded her of Wayne. It was outlandish and pretentious, but it still managed to scream class. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she’d have sworn there was a hint of his 1920s flair hidden in the furniture and wall art. Between this and his clothes . . .it had to be him, he had to remember. It was so reminiscent of the man, it almost made her smile, even as her stomach dropped.
Because while she’d been admiring Wayne’s personification in the lobby’s aesthetic, someone had approached her unnoticed and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. Her magic hadn’t even managed to formulate half of a plan yet.
Jo spun around to face the owner of the authoritative grip, only to find a woman about her height, dressed in a pencil skirt and silk blouse, a key card clipped to her breast pocket. Kind eyes stared at her from behind fashionable, thick-framed glasses, and when she smiled, there was only a hint of the authority there. It was still enough to put Jo on edge.
“Ms. Espinosa?” the woman asked, and Jo nodded before she could stop herself, caught off-guard by the sound of her name in an unfamiliar voice. “Follow me, please?”
There seemed little other choice, so Jo accompanied the woman to her desk, watching as she waved at a row of metallic spheres on a floating pillar to the left of her computer. One of the spheres responded to the motion and floated quickly into Jo’s presence, flitting about between each of her eyes, before making a spiral pattern around her torso, and finally stopping at Jo’s wrist.
Out of curiosity more than anything, Jo lifted up her arm. The metal sphere did a small 180 before returning to the desk. The secretary held out a hand, and as it settled into her palm, the metal began to shift, molding first into an amorphous blob, then into what was clearly an ID bracelet.
