But I don’t know what to say to him. Riva claimed last night that I always had the right advice, but she hasn’t been with us to see the wreckage she left us in.
I can’t tell whether any of the comments that flit through my mind would make Jacob feel better or worse, so I keep my mouth shut.
He’s just slumping into the sofa in a more relaxed pose when Andreas comes thundering down the stairs with Zian at his heels.
“Our hacker came through,” Andreas announces, waving his phone. “He’s got something big on Ursula Engel. We can meet up with him tonight to hand off his collectable for all the details.”
Jacob sits up a little straighter, still wan but mildly re-energized by the prospect of making progress with our search. He flicks his damp hair away from his eyes. “All right. Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Zian frowns. “Will Riva be okay to come after last night? I guess one of us could stay back here with her…”
Jacob shakes his head, his lips curling into a sneer. “If he doesn’t see all of us, he’ll wonder what’s up—and he particularly noticed her.”
I’m not sure whether the edge that’s crept into his voice is directed more at the woman upstairs or the hacker.
“I couldn’t sense any lingering effects from the alcohol that wouldn’t have cleared up by now,” I put in.
“And if she wanted to be at the top of her game, she shouldn’t have been hitting the booze to begin with.”
I stiffen at Jacob’s tone. I might be pissed off about the past, but even I can see he’s not being fair—how could Riva have known that a single drink would interact badly with the poison he insisted on infecting her with?
But I can’t see how pointing that out will do any good. Or how wondering aloud whether the information this hacker dug up is really going to help us will either.
Maybe this opportunity won’t get us where we need to go, but we have to put ourselves out there if we want to make any progress at all. If we’re not even going to try to find answers, what’s the point of even continuing the lives the guardians inflicted on us?
I push myself to my feet. “I’ll make sure she’s in decent shape before we head out. What time do we need to leave?”
* * *
It only takes a few seconds after we’ve gotten out of the car before I’m wishing I just stayed home. The night air has cooled enough that my parka isn’t totally uncomfortable while unzipped, but it’s still a heavy weight I’d rather not be lugging around.
I veer closer to the closed buildings along the shabby commercial strip near the industrial district where the hacker asked to meet us. Having the thicker shadows draping over me settles my nerves a little.
If no one can see me, then no one can speculate. No one can even notice the things I wish weren’t strange about me.
Not that there’s anyone much around here to notice regardless. Voices travel down the street from a few women wobbling out of a bar behind us, but they’re the only people out and about nearby.
Zian scans the road and the darkened buildings along it warily. “We couldn’t have parked right by the meetup place?”
Andreas runs his hand over his head, scattering his tight curls. “He gave specific instructions about parking at least two blocks away. I think he’s a little paranoid.”
Riva lets out a short huff of amusement that draws my attention to her. She’s walking surrounded by us as usual, behind Andreas and Jacob and ahead of me and Zian—as if at this point we really have any reason to suspect that she’s going to bolt on us.
It doesn’t take much for her to catch my gaze. Honestly, when she’s nearby, it takes a conscious effortnotto be tracking every movement she makes.
Even her slightest gesture seems to reverberate through the air into my skin as if she’s touched me.
Sometimes the sensation brings out the impulse to touch her in return, to pull her as close to me as I possibly can. But whenever that happens, other images dart through my mind: of how her expression would change if she saw all of me now, or of that scene from four years ago while Griffin lay dying…
My heart hardens up and my ribs seem to lock tight around it.
She said last night that she wishes she could fix what was broken, but some things aren’t fixable. No, she isn’t to blame for plenty of our problems, but for her to talk like that whenshe’sthe one who smashed our tight-knit group to pieces—the memory makes my hands clench.
How can I feel that way but not be able to shake the certainty tugging at me that she belongs with our broken shards?
I’m lost in those thoughts rather than paying attention to the world around us, so the man who lurches out of the shadows next to another bar we’re passing takes me by surprise.
From the sour smell wafting from the alley and his jerk of his jeans, he was just pissing on the ground. That’s all I have time to register before he’s letting out a whistle and making a grab at Riva’s ass.