OCTAVIA
After my evening with East, and Maverick staying over last night, I feel like a hussy. A very satisfied hussy, but a hussy nonetheless. Which makes my run with Lincoln even more frustrating. He met me at my gate, like he does every morning, but I feel like we’ve gone backward about four months. He’s barely spoken to me, and when he has, I wouldn’t call it talking so much as I’d call it snapping.
I wish he’d just let me in. That he’d share whatever the hell is eating at him. But I’ve tried to ask him half a dozen times what’s wrong and nearly lost my head, so I don’t see that happening any time soon.
He runs two paces in front of me, the same way we’ve been doing since everything happened with Panda, but today, he takes a different turn after we pass the pier.
“Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer and I want to throw my fucking sneaker at the back of his head, but rather than let him win and see how pissed I am, I push through his punishing pace so I can keep up with him. There’s no way I’m giving him the satisfaction. Especially not when he’s in this mood.
We head up the hill, and I swear my lungs feel like they’re going to explode between his pace and this fucking incline.
“Lincoln!” I half shout, half huff, because fuck.
He doesn’t pause, he just keeps going. Whatever demons are riding him that he’s trying to exorcize this morning must be insane, because even in asshole mode, he never ignored me.
Not since I learned the truth of everything.
Not like this.
I call his name again, and he finally slows. Glancing back, he finds me in the middle of the road, bent in two, sucking in air.
“What are you doing?” he barks, while running in place. “We don’t have time to slow. You need to be faster. If you’re not in pristine shape, you’re going to get yourself killed.”
And then it dawns on me.
The demon riding him is me.
My meeting with the Conclave.
Lincoln Saint is afraid and it’s driving him insane.
I stand up straight and walk toward him. “Is that what’s wrong? The last few days? Is that what this has all been about?”
He stops all movement, staring at me before tugging on his hair. “Everything I’ve ever tried to do is about keeping you alive. Keeping you safe. And now the Conclave wants to meet with you, but Harrison won’t tell me a goddamn thing about you. He wants me focused on Georgia and sealing his deal. You should not be on my radar as far as he’s concerned, but he doesn’t see that you are everything.”
I place my hand on his chest, his racing heart pounds beneath it as he looks at me with wild eyes.
“It seems like people have been coming for me my entire life, Lincoln. I’ve survived this long. We just need to play their game, find out what it is they want, and then we can make a plan.”
“You don’t understand. The contract Stone made… that potentially jeopardizes everything Harrison holds dear. If he sees you as a threat to his seat—his power—he’ll kill you without a second thought if he thinks he can get away with it. The only thing keeping him from it right now is the fact that everyone knows about the deal. It would be obvious it was him. There might not be a ton of rules in the Knights, but killing other members, especially Conclave members…”
He trails off and it occurs to me that if that’s the line, then it’s possible they’ve already crossed it. If Panda is to be believed anyway.
“Is that why no one knows if Edward killed my dad? Because it’s against the rules to kill another Conclave member?”
“Yes and no.” He sighs. “Technically, Stone wasn’t a member of the Conclave anymore. The seat was just empty. The reason I can’t get a straight answer about your dad is because if that’s what happened, it’s likely it was just between Harrison and Edward, and neither of them is going to say a goddamn thing.”
“That makes sense,” I muse. “When am I supposed to be meeting with the Conclave? I haven’t heard anything. I assume I’m going to be summoned?”
He nods, pulling us out of the road to stand on the pavement. “Yes, you’ll be summoned, but again, I don’t know when and it’s driving me fucking insane. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know the plan, and that’s probably Harrison’s fucking idea.”
His phone buzzes and his mouth twists. “Finn has news about who was working with Evan.”
My eyes go wide. It’s not like I’d forgotten about it, but I was beginning to think we’d never know since P killed himself. “What did he say?”
“Nothing but that. It’s safer not to say anything in a message.”