She suddenly stirs, sensing that I’m awake. Her eyes dart first around the room, doing a quick sweep, probably sizing everything up in the way she always does to make sure we’re okay. Then her gaze settles on my face.
She lets out a long breath. “Hey,” she whispers, getting to her feet.
I give her a small smile. “Hey,” I reply.
She puts a cool hand against my forehead. “I don’t know how much longer we would have taken to get to you if you hadn’t sent that message. You looked pretty bad when we first found you.”
“They still have Eden,” I say. “Did you and AIS find anything about him?”
She shakes her head, her lips pressed tight. It’s the expression she gets when her mind is spinning, and I find myself remembering snippets of other memories, of when we were escaping the Republic. “No,” she says. “But AIS is trying to track him based on the general area where you were.”
“They were underground,” I reply.
“Is that where Hann was stationed in a hideout?” June asks.
“A hideout is an understatement. It looked like an estate buried under the city. I don’t know how many other spaces he might have like that. But he has a construction site there. A machine.”
“Do you remember anything about the route they took you through?”
I shake my head. “They had me blindfolded the entire time. The area beneath the Undercity is a maze of old tunnels and abandoned elevator shafts. It’ll take weeks to get down there and do a proper sweep. We need to find a different way.”
Had Eden heard that I’d gotten out? Does he know that Hann had intentionally let me go? Did he have anything to do with that—had he made a bargain with the man?
Immediately, I start trying to get out of bed. That’s when all the soreness of my captivity hits me. I wince, looking down at my bandaged wrists.
June gets up in the darkness and pushes me down. “You’re notgoing anywhere,” she says sternly. “Strict orders from the doctor. Everything you need to do, you can do from the comfort of your bed, okay? Your director said she’d contact you in the morning, and we can go from there.”
“What about you?” I ask. “The Elector? He—”
“—is well aware of the situation,” she says. “Anden sends his regards and concerns.” June leans closer to me. In the night, her eyes shine like dark marbles. “This is big news in your inner circles, apparently. The President wants to be kept updated on what happens with Hann.”
I slump back on my pillows and clench my teeth in frustration. I made a promise to myself to keep Eden from harm, but I’ve failed to do it again. Nightmares from the Republic come rushing back now to haunt me—Eden, being taken away for experimentation; Eden, blinded and weak; Eden, left to die during the war with the Colonies.
Now he is in Hann’s grasp, and I have no goddy clue what the man wants with him.
June puts a hand on my shoulder. Her warmth is the only thing that breaks through my whirlwind of thoughts. “We’re going to find him,” she tells me. “He’s a smart boy, and he’s going to take care of himself. Your job is to be sure you’re strong enough by morning to tackle all this. There’s nothing you can do before that. Understand?”
I look back at her. “How long have I been out?”
“A day,” she admits.
“And you stayed here?” I ask softly. “The entire time I was out?”
A flash of fear glints in her eyes, then fades. She looks away and out my window. “I was afraid,” she murmurs, “to lose you.”
And again, I find myself thinking about what she’d said during her first night here, when we shared a kiss. When I realized how much her life had moved forward and settled into place.
She looks back at me. “What’s on your mind?” she asks me. “I can always tell by the weight in your eyes.”
“I’m thinking about how I’m the catalyst for chaos in your life,” I answer. “And how sorry I am for it.”
“Don’t be,” she replies. June sighs and looks down. “We’ve always been each other’s catalysts, haven’t we?” she says. “I don’t think we would have met if we weren’t. And sometimes I find myself pulling away because I want to end that cycle for you, as if that might somehow solve it all.”
I think of the way June pulls herself away from our intimate moments. It’s the exact same thing I do. I lean closer to her, letting my hand brush hers. For an instant, I think that she might pull away… but her hand lingers in place, and she stays where she is.
I know that fear she mentioned. That terror of not knowing what might happen to us next, of what could go wrong if we opened our hearts completely to each other. I’d bled the last time I allowed myself to love her, and she had bled the same.
But still, I find myself tightening my grip around her hand, then pulling her closer. She turns to face me in the night.
