Inquest (29 page)

“Just not
enough.”

“But I do,”
Milo says seriously. “I love you very much, and I’ve been dying you
tell you that.”

My racing
heart puddles in my chest and sends waves of heat barreling through
my veins. “I love you too, Milo. I’m just sorry I didn’t tell you
in a better way. Only my mom could screw something like that up for
me.”

“I don’t care
what made you say it. I’m just glad you did.” His fingers come up
to my face and trace along my cheekbone and jaw. “Actually, I think
it’s pretty hot that you told me you loved me while you were trying
to save my life.”

“But I didn’t
even do it,” I complain. “You saved yourself and all I managed to
do was break my ankle.”

His expression
turns conniving. “That’s true,” he says, “I did save my own life.
That was supposed to be your job, Libby Sparks. I think you owe me
one, now.”

“What do you
want?” I ask.

“Let me stay
with you for a few days.”

More than a
little surprised, I’m not sure what to say. I put aside all my
doubts when I was faced with my mom’s questions, but that doesn’t
mean they’ve disappeared completely. “Milo,” I begin.

“I never got
to finish what I started to say at the dance,” he interrupts.

That’s true.
“What were you going to say?”

“I was going
to say that I didn’t want you to get back together with your
ex-boyfriend because I want that position for myself,” Milo says,
“and before you say anything, I’m only asking to stay because I
want to take care of you. I’m not trying to pressure you into
anything. I’ll even sleep on the floor.”

“Milo…” I
can’t make him sleep on the floor.

“I don’t want
to leave you alone.”

The honest
need in his voice is so hard to resist. “But what about your
parents? Even they will notice if you just stop coming home all
together.”

“That’s
debatable,” Milo says.

“And what
about Celia? She spends almost every afternoon with us. Your
parents will definitely notice when she doesn’t come home. It just
won’t work,” I say.

Milo slides
his arm under my head and moves closer to me. “But if I could make
it work, you’d let me stay?”

“That’s not
what I meant, Milo.”

“You want me
to stay. Admit it,” he says, his fingers tracing the curves of my
jaw, my ear, my shoulder. Every stroke steals a little more of my
concern that this may be a very bad idea. He could get hurt because
of me. “Admit it,” he says again.

“Yes, I want
you to stay,” I say weakly. My eyes are still closed, letting me
linger in the moment a little longer. “But that’s why you can’t.
Milo, if you get any closer to me you may just end up like my dad.
My relationship track record isn’t very good. I’m not meant for…for
anything good.”

Rolling onto
his elbow, Milo jostles my leg painfully. I hiss at the pain too
sharp for the narcotics I’m on. Milo apologizes immediately, his
hand landing lightly on my thigh in an effort to stabilize me. Or
maybe he is still trying to convince me, because the way his
fingers trail up my jeans to my hip certainly aren’t doing anything
to drive me away from him. My own fingers start drawing twisting
paths over his chest without my permission. Not good, but I don’t
pull my hand away. Milo pulls in closer. Maybe I should have
checked the side effects of these painkillers more carefully.

“Libby,” Milo
begins. The rough quality of his voice brings heat to my belly.
“Libby, what happened today, it scared me. A lot. I know I joke
with you about being responsible for saving my life, but you’re not
invincible. I never thought you were, but watching your mom come
after you, I really saw for the first time what danger you’re in. I
don’t want to leave your side.”

Hot desire
quickly mellows into loving warmth. “Milo, if you think I’m
fallible, then you’re at even more risk. Just look at today. My mom
had me trapped, but she went after you to hurt me even worse. If I
weren’t so selfish, I would make you stay as far away from me as
possible. You can’t count on catching a lucky break every time. The
more you’re with me, the more danger you’re in.”

Milo’s concern
twists into bitterness. “Libby, you have no idea how much danger
I’m in, but that’s not the point. With your ankle broken, you need
me here. Strength, Speed, Vision, how much can they really help
when you can’t even get off the bed by yourself? I won’t leave you
helpless.”

“I’m not
helpless,” I argue.

“Then get up
and walk across the room.”

I scowl at him
and push up to my elbows. The movement makes my leg twinge, but I
can handle it. I sit up all the way and drop my left foot to the
floor. That was the easy part. Biting the inside of my cheek I take
a deep breath and slide my right foot to the side. A strangled
scream catches in my throat, choking me with pain. Milo’s hands are
on me at once, pushing me down to the pillow and settling my legs
back in place. Gentle fingertips sweep across my tear-streaked
face.

“You need me
to stay, Libby,” he whispers. “I need you to let me stay.
Please.”

Spirits help
me, I can’t do this. I can’t even move. It hurts so badly. I can’t
face it without Milo, but I know this might not be a temporary
thing. Once I agree to him staying, I don’t know if I’ll be able to
give him up. I need him. I need him desperately in so many ways.
There isn’t anyone else. He is the only person in this world I can
turn to for help. Pain, love, narcotics, something smothers my
objections, the warnings, everything but my desire never to be away
from Milo.

“Okay,” I
whisper, “but just until I can get around on my own.”

His arms
wrapped around me painfully. “Thank you, Libby. I promise I’ll keep
you safe. I love you.”

Fear and
overwhelming joy wrap themselves around my heart, begging to take
up permanent residence. I want to let them, but I have to ask. “You
really love me?”

“Of course I
do, I just didn’t know how to tell you,” he says. “I wanted to tell
you, but I didn’t know how you felt for sure. I wasn’t even sure if
you wanted to think about a relationship right now. I know what
Lance did. That’s not easy to get over. I also know how much you’re
trying to deal with and figure out right now. A boyfriend might not
fit into your plans.”

Not that his
admission really changes my earlier fears, but realizing that his
holding off and pulling away when I thought we were getting closer
was him trying to help me does explain a lot. I smile and wind my
fingers with his. “It might be a mistake, but I’d like to try and
fit a boyfriend into my screwed-up life if you really want me.”

“I really do,
if you’re sure.”

“I’m
sure.”

“Then…I think
I should take Celia’s advice…”

My pulse
jumps, and combined with the medication, my head starts swimming.
I’m afraid I might pass out. If I faint, I’ll never forgive
myself.

“And kiss
you.”

My racing
pulse suddenly slows. Everything slows as Milo’s hands gently cup
my face. Delicate pressure pulls me toward him and I give up on
thinking, breathing, speaking, everything, and close my eyes. He
strokes my cheek once and kisses me. My whole world rearranges
itself. The throbbing pain is replaced by the feel of Milo’s
heartbeat under my fingertips. Every care disappears as his breath
pulses against my skin. For one moment, I am just a girl being
kissed by the guy she loves.

Too quickly
his lips leave mine. Milo’s hand trails down my skin as he pulls
back. The tension that has been haunting him all day evaporates. I
would be content to lie next to him for the rest of the day, but an
innocent movement of his hand reminds me of something I can’t
ignore. After what Mr. Walters said last night, this is one thing I
need to know. Something I
have
to know. If Milo is really
willing to throw in with me, I think I need to know what I’m
getting into as much as he does. Snaking my hand down to his, I
move as if to take his hand. My fingertips reach the palm of his
hand and stop. Even still, his hand curls around mine.

“Milo,” I say,
hearing the tremor in my voice that I feared would be there.

“Hmm?”

I take a deep
breath and slide my hand back up his arm, just enough that I push
back his sleeve and leave my fingers touching his marred diktats.
His body stiffens immediately. I regret losing his calmness, but I
have to keep going. “Milo, what’s a Cipher?”

“You mean like
something to unlock a code?” he asks casually.

“Mr. Walters
called you Cipher. What does that mean?”

His head
shakes back and forth. “It’s just a nickname he gave me when we
first met.”

“When was
that? I didn’t think you knew him before we met,” I say.

“He was my
history teacher when I first moved here. I have him again this
year,” Milo says. I can feel his pulse running like mad beneath my
fingers.

“Why did he
call you Cipher?”

“Because he
knows.” The sudden quiver in his voice scares me.

Wrapping my
whole hand around his wrist I pull it up so we can both see it. “It
has something to do with your diktats, doesn’t it? There’s
something wrong with them. They aren’t straight and perfect like
they’re supposed to be.”

“Cipher means
zero, nothingness,” Milo says quietly.

He says it
like it’s an answer to my question, but I don’t understand. “What
does that have to do with your diktats? Why don’t they look like
they should?”

Milo takes one
slow breath, and says, “Because they aren’t real.”

Chapter 24

Shallow
Dreams

“What do you
mean they aren’t real?” I demand.

“They’re not
real. They’re fake.”

How is that
even possible? Inquests are
not
an optional event. Everyone
has their Inquest on their sixteenth birthday willingly, or they’re
hunted down and forced into it. I knew a boy dying of cancer who
was bombarded by Inquisitor Moore in his hospital bed.

“How did you
get out of having an Inquest,” I ask feeling slightly dazed. Could
I have done the same thing?

“I
didn’t.”

“But…”

“I thought for
sure I was going to be named a member of the Guardian class. I
wanted it more than anything,” Milo says, “so I went to my Inquest
eagerly.”

“What
happened?”

Milo doesn’t
answer right away. He lifts the hand I’m holding and stares at the
marks on his wrist. The most jagged of the lines deforms even more
as he clenches his hand into a fist. “When the Inquisitor started,
it was obvious something was wrong. He said my full name…and then
nothing. No talents, no name, no class. There was simply nothing
for him to tell me. I was nothing.”

“I…I’ve never
heard of that happening before,” I say.

“Neither had
I.”

I knew what
was coming when I stepped into Inquisitor Moore’s house. I knew
there was going to be rejection and possibly death. It was
horrible, but at least I’d had time to prepare myself for it. Milo
was blindsided. His dreams were ripped away in an instant. Memories
of the day I finally put the pieces together and realized my own
horrible fate crowd painfully into my mind. I know how that feels
very well.

“What
happened?” I ask.

“The
Inquisitor tried again and again. He spent hours trying to make
something happen, but my wrist never changed. When he finally gave
up he started panicking, raving about the Guardians coming. It was
only luck that the resident Guardian was sick that day. I had no
idea what he was talking about, but my parents were pretty freaked
out too.”

“Why were they
so scared?” I ask.

He doesn’t
seem to hear me. His eyes harden as his grip on my hand tightens.
“They just kept screaming at each other. Celia started crying, but
I was the only one who noticed. I didn’t know what to do. She was
always just the little snot who bugged me before. Mom and Dad took
care of her. I was too busy. Suddenly the roles were reversed,”
Milo says. Rolling onto his side lets him bury his face in my hair
without disturbing my leg. “She was so scared. I stumbled over to
her and held her. We listened together as my parents argued with
the Inquisitor about what they should do. The Inquisitor kept
shaking his head and saying he had to turn me over. I was upset
before, but I started shaking as I listened to them. Turned over to
the Guardians. Horrible images of what they were going to do to me
blocked everything else out.”

Forget my leg.
I roll, gently, onto my side and press against Milo’s chest. The
pain of moving stings my eyes, but Milo’s whole body curling around
me helps to soften the hurt. I don’t ask him to go on. I just hope
that when he’s ready he will. I know better than anyone how
difficult it is to hold a secret inside for so long, and how
torturous it is to finally let it out. The room dims in the faded
pink light of sunset before he speaks again.

“The next
thing I knew, I was being pulled away from Celia. She grabbed for
me but my mom held her back while my dad and the Inquisitor pinned
me to the ground. I fought back but my dad clocking me in the head
ended that pretty fast. I was too out of it to see the knife, but I
felt it.”

My shoulders
convulse under the pressure of a horrified shudder. “They cut you?
How could they do that? You could have died.”

“I almost
did,” he says quietly. “My dad knew what he was doing but
everything was so chaotic. He started cutting and my mom panicked
when my blood started pooling on the rug, and bumped my dad. It was
a weird feeling, dying. Once I lost enough blood, I just felt
tired. I couldn’t even feel the cuts anymore. If it weren’t for
Celia crying hysterically next to me, I don’t know that I would
have even tried to fight.”