Nate bit the inside of his cheek until the urge to argue became manageable.
“They weren’t my friends—we were in a gang. It’s different.” He elbowed Pixel gently when she started to sit up, indignation on her breath. It wouldn’t do them any good for Agatha and Juniper to think they still cared about Brick and Reed. “They didn’t want to give us up, because they could’ve used our blood. And I stopped them from hurting her, didn’t I?”
“Istopped them,” Juniper said, lifting her chin. “I might not have acalling, but I saved Agatha.”
“You did.” Nate offered her an indulgent smile. “And you showed me what’s really important. Our kind, sticking together.”
“You’re notmykind,” Juniper spat out. “And you don’t know what’s important.”
The door swung open, and Nate wrapped his arm around Pixel instinctively. Agatha walked in with a girl trailing after her. As the door swung shut, he spotted two tall, broad-shouldered people carrying pipes. A guard.
A sound of surprise died on Nate’s lips. The girl was Val.
“You’re sure he’s still there?” Agatha was asking.
“Pretty sure. I mean, nobody’s seen him leave.” Val caught sight of him. “Nine! You made it.”
“I made it,” he echoed, unable to return her crooked smile. Goose bumps peppered his forearms. He couldn’t shake the eerie feeling he was missing something.
Agatha walked to the dangling prong in the middle of the room and pulled it down, eyeing the height from the floor to the gleaming tips. She drew a rag from her pocket and polished the tip. Val dragged a heavy chair on rollers from the corner of the room. It was like the one on the dentist’s front stoop—high-backed with a built-in footrest. Except this one had fraying straps attached to the armrests.
Both of them watched Nate expectantly, and a cold tendril of dread wrapped around him.
“Right to work, huh?” he asked with a breathy, nervous laugh. His fingers wrapped around the rail of the bed involuntarily.
“If it makes you feel better, I’m next.” Val rolled down the waist of her loose pants and showed Nate a bandage at her hip.
“But you’re not. . .” He would have known—would have smelled the honey scent that lingered on other GEMs. The unmistakable sense of comfort, home.
“A GEM?” Val barked a laugh. “No.”
“Valerie gives us her serum,” Agatha said. “In exchange for letting her live.”
The wry amusement faded from Val’s face. She scratched the back of her neck and met Nate’s eye before looking away. “Couriers aren’t supposed to pick sides, but Agatha’s folks don’t take kindly to that.”
“Quaint, but true. We’ll control all of the chem trade before the season turns. I can’t have clever Couriers like Valerie slowing our progress down, running chem for the last holdouts in a dying business.”
Alden.
“You’re loyal now, aren’t you, dear?” Agatha asked.
Val ducked her head, shoulders slumping. She offered a faint nod and wiped her nose.
Nate struggled to keep his expression blank. His thoughts buzzed like a dust storm. Val had called him by his full name up on the rails when she’d saved him from getting smeared by the train. She’d asked too many questions after he’d left the bank.
She must have guessed that he was a GEM by then.
Why hadn’t she turned him in to Agatha if she’d known where to find him? She’d watched him walk into Alden’s shop. He longed to ask her, but Agatha was too close.
Couriers only answered to the highest bidder. But Nate couldn’t imagine anyone able to pay more than the Breakers. Or why they would.
“Loyalty is critical right now,” Agatha was saying, murmuring to herself as she adjusted wires on the still. “When the gates open, we have to hold the power. The chem. The flesh. I can’t have outliers undercutting me.”
“But the people here didn’t do anything to us,” Nate said, ignoring the furtive shake of Val’s head. “Why makethempay?”
“Do not underestimate the depravity of your fellow Withersons. Surely you’ve seen firsthand how they’d use you.” She turned to him, and he saw it again—the flash of hollow fear.
“Not to cure lung-rot,” Juniper muttered.
