Inquest (33 page)

“No,” he says
slowly. “Is that something you have to take before becoming a
Guardian?”

“No, anyone
who’s been named into the Guardian class can make a Guardian Oath.”
I take a deep breath. It would be so easy to give him some vague,
meaningless answer. “It’s a promise to protect someone. I don’t
really understand how it works, but somehow a person’s Speed and
Strength are able to be dedicated to one person or group above
anyone else.”

“What do you
mean
dedicated
?” Milo asks, his voice growing tight.

“It’s
irreversible. Most Guardians give their Oath when they’re inducted,
promising to protect the people under their stewardship. It’s
binding in every way. The Guardians have to act to protect the
people they serve or they’ll regret it, painfully,” I explain.

I try to
ignore the rage pouring off Milo like he so politely asked me to
do, but it’s impossible. It’s way too strong. “That’s what Lance
did?” he asks.

I nod.

“What does
that mean exactly, for you and him?”

“It m-means,”
I say, the quiver in my chin making it hard to speak clearly. “It
means that he can feel when I’m in trouble. He’ll have to come help
me, or he’ll experience the worst pain imaginable. When he feels my
need, he’ll know exactly where to find me, too. Depending on the
strength of the link between us, he may be able to find me even if
I’m not in trouble.”

I do not add
that Lance’s Speed and Strength are ridiculously powerful. Guardian
Clements comments on it frequently, convinced he’s stronger than he
is and not even at his full potential. I have no idea how that, and
my own power, might affect the link, but I doubt it’s anything
good.

“What about
you?” Milo asks. “Can you feel it when he’s hurt, or whatever? Do
you have to rescue him, too?”

“No.” Thank
goodness. Knowing he can feel me makes my skin crawl. The last
thing I would ever want is to be able to feel him in return. “The
Oath is completely one sided. I have absolutely no compulsion to
help him.”

“Good,” Milo
says darkly, “because I’m going to kill him.”

Oh, crap. He
means it.

“Milo…” He’s
already walking away from me, into a den of would-be Guardians just
itching to try out their talents on something other than practice
dummies. “Milo, stop! Wait!”

“Libby
Sparks!” calls a breathless woman from behind me.

I shake my
head and hurtle myself forward with my crutches to catch Milo.
Probably just some overzealous teacher on ditching patrol. “Milo!
Please, just wait. Milo!”

Muted speaking
behind me catches my ear and sends a jolt of dread straight through
me.

“This is
Caroline Gomez for Channel Seven News trying to catch up with the
fleeing Libby Sparks.”

“Milo!” I
scream. The panic in my voice stops him. Finally. He turns and his
own eyes widen.

After what
happened with my mom, there’s no way I want to face down a pack of
reporters, but as I watch Milo’s face drain of its color I realize
my mistake. Our eyes meet and I can see the indecision in them.
Help me get away, or risk being caught on camera. I can’t ask him
to make the choice. My crutches dig into the grass as I come to an
abrupt halt. I pinch my crutch under my arm and motion for him to
run. He cringes and takes a step forward.

“Go! Hurry
up!” I call, careful not to use his name again.

“Libby
Sparks,” the winded reporter blurts out from right behind my
ear.

I spin
awkwardly to face her. She’s shoving a microphone in my face, but
her camera man isn’t paying any attention to me. Instead, his lens
is focused on Milo’s retreating form. He’s almost back to the
school, but with how close the reporter was to me when he turned
around, there’s no way he had enough time. Caroline Gomez’s
questions wash over me in a daze.

Milo has just
been found.

Chapter 27

Noise

The intrepid
reporter Caroline Gomez has no idea of the story she’s breaking
with her report. The blurbs of me refusing to answer any of her
questions about what happened to my foot flicker across the screen,
ignored by both me and Milo. The picture they flash of Milo’s
startled face—they didn’t catch his name, thank goodness—only airs
for two or three seconds, but we both know it will be more than
enough time for the Guardians to identify him. We watch the entire
piece in silence.

Only when the
pleased reporter finally signs off do we turn away from the
restaurant’s TV mounted above our booth. We thought it best to be
in a public location when the story aired, hoping the numerous
people around us would put off any immediate attack. Caroline
Gomez’s smile is forgotten along with my hope. “Milo, I’m so
sorry,” I whisper.

His cell phone
rings and he snaps it open. “Well?” he asks. I can’t hear the
response, but a second later his shoulders slump and he sighs in
relief. “Thanks, Celia. I owe you big time for this.” He listens
again. Then groans. “Fine, I did promise you anything you wanted.
I’ll take care of it.”

A few seconds
later he closes the phone. It drops to the table and he sighs.

“Good news?” I
ask.

“Well, that
depends on how you feel about ballet,” he says. “I just promised to
take Celia to the Nutcracker at Popejoy Hall this weekend. I hate
the ballet.”

“That’s not
what I meant,” I say drily, “but I happen to love the ballet. I see
the Nutcracker every year. Did she keep your parents from seeing
the news tonight?”

His demeanor
turns more serious as he nods. “She threw a temper tantrum about
them not letting her go with her friend up to their cabin in
Colorado for Christmas. She didn’t actually want to go, but it
turned out to be the perfect excuse.”

I’m relieved,
of course, but it only goes so far. “Milo, is that really going to
help, though? What if someone they work with saw it and mentions it
to them? They’re going to find out eventually.”

“I know,” he
says.

“They’ll want
to leave, hide you and Celia again.”

“I know.”

“Maybe you
should go,” I say, “at least for a little while. Your parents
aren’t even the real problem. Guardians are going to come after
you. I can’t even help protect you with my leg the way it is.”

“You can’t
protect yourself either,” he reminds me.

Right away I
know that isn’t true, not with Lance around, but I don’t care to
point that out right this minute. “Milo, I know you’re worried
about Celia.”

His eyebrow
quirks up. “You know?”

“Because I
know how much you love her, not because I’m digging into your
emotions.” My eyes roll as I say it. Now that I know his Perception
was just a big act, he’s very adamant that I keep my own talents to
myself. It’s really irritating. “Milo, I have spent years trying to
block other people’s emotions out. Believe me when I say I’m not
purposely trying to intrude. I hate having other people’s feelings
inside my head. The only time I ever get anything from you is when
your emotions are really strong. And that’s not something I can do
anything about.”

Milo accepts
my explanation, but that familiar note of something not fitting
like it should creeps into my mind. I felt the same thing earlier
today when Milo got mad at me because he thought I was intruding on
his emotions. My brow crinkles as I try to remember what exactly
he’d said that made me doubt. He accused me of trying to manipulate
him, which was quite offensive, and then he told me the least I
could do was stay out of his emotions since he couldn’t block
me.

It’s something
about his not being able to block me. Something doesn’t fit.
Thinking about my most useful and annoying talent, I try to pick
out what is bothering me. I’ve been dealing with trying to ignore
the background hum of emotional turbulence that follows me almost
wherever I go since I was a child. I used to think it was fun to
know what people where feeling and tease or announce that
knowledge, but I learned pretty quickly that doing so was a sure
way to drive people away from me. Especially my mother. So I
started creating barriers around my mind that blocked out other
people’s emotions. It has never worked completely, there’s always
some background noise, but it keeps everything at a manageable
level that’s easy to ignore.

Then it hits
me.

There’s no
noise coming from Milo right now. No latent worry about being seen,
no concern for Celia, no pleasure at sitting with me. There is
nothing coming from him at all. Perhaps Milo has an unnatural
ability to have absolutely zero emotions when he wants to, but I
very much doubt that. I know him too well. There’s no way he’s
still not brooding about Lance, and Celia is constantly on his
mind. Gently, even though I know he’d hate it if he knew, I probe
Milo with my Perception. Just a hesitant touch at first, and I get
nothing, complete emptiness. I push harder. Closing down each of my
other talents systematically so they can’t interfere, I scour his
aura for something, anything. And find nothing.

Milo is
blocking me. Somehow my talentless boyfriend is blocking me.

I prop my
elbows on the table and focus all my attention on him. My movement
makes him look over at me. The anxiety in my posture draws a frown.
“Milo, what are you thinking about right now?”

“Um, I’m
wondering why you’re looking at me like that.”

“No,” I say
with a shake of my head, “what were you thinking about right before
I asked you?”

His frown
deepens. “I was rethinking the Nutcracker trip. There will a lot of
people there that might see you and know who you are. I know the
media has backed off you lately, but after that story, it might
pick back up again. If someone calls the media, it could be bad.
Maybe the Guardians won’t see the news report, but I certainly
don’t want to risk giving them another chance.”

“That’s all?”
I ask.

“Do you have a
more pressing concern than the Guardians not kidnapping me?” He
smiles vaguely and runs his fingers through his hair. “Besides all
the usual threats, that is.”

“You weren’t
thinking about me getting into your emotions? You weren’t worried
about that at all?” I demand.

He looks at me
completely bewildered. “No…You said you wouldn’t, and I trust you.
Why, were you poking at me for some reason?”

“Yes,” I say,
drawing a confused and hurt expression from Milo, “but not for the
reason you think.”

“Then maybe
you better tell me why you’re doing something I just asked you not
to before I go with what I’m already thinking.”

“You’re really
not trying to keep me out right now?” I ask.

“No! I can’t.
Why do you keep asking me that? Are you trying to rub in the fact
that I can’t do anything you can? Not the nicest thing in the world
to do, Libby,” he says seriously.

None of this
makes sense, but my excitement is growing by the second. “But you
can, Milo! You can do what I can do, at least part of it. You’re
blocking me. And I think you’ve been doing it since we met.”

I have never
seen Milo look so serious. Even when we’ve been in danger there’s
always an undercurrent of disregard. “What?” he asks stiffly.

“I can’t feel
you at all! You’re a complete blank to me right now.”

“Isn’t that
something you’re doing, not me?” he asks.

I shake my
head and sit all the way up. “No, I was trying to get past whatever
you’re doing, and I can’t. That has never happened to me before. I
can always feel people around me in the background. The only people
who have ever been able to block me are other Perceptives and
Concealors, and only really powerful ones like my mom and dad, and
if I try hard enough I can always get something. I can feel you
when you’re really angry or happy, but I never realized until just
now that I almost never get anything from you unless your emotions
are intense.”

Milo’s
expression hasn’t changed at all but my mind is spinning. More and
more evidence comes flooding into my mind. One in particular that I
think will help Milo believe what I’m saying.

“That’s why I
didn’t know you were in the hall with me today,” I say. “If I had
been able to feel your emotions I would have known you’d walked up.
As angry as you were, I’m surprised I didn’t feel you even if you
were trying to block me. I should have at least felt that, or
sensed you near me. People I’m familiar with, the ones who I know
the feel of their emotions or spirit really well, I can usually
feel it when they’re near me.”

“I didn’t want
you to know I was there,” Milo says. “I wanted to see what was
going to happen between you and Lance.”

“What do you
mean you didn’t want me to know you were there? Did you do
something to try and hide yourself?”

Finally
joining me for real in this conversation, Milo rubs the side of his
face thoughtfully. “I don’t know what you mean. I was just standing
down the hall from you. I wasn’t hiding. I just didn’t want you to
see me there.”

I am literally
bouncing on the seat with excitement. “You concealed yourself. You
had to have. I would have known you were there otherwise.”

“Maybe you
were just really distracted by the guy pressing himself up against
you,” Milo says snidely. I scowl at him and keep going.

“You’re using
talents without knowing it, Milo. That Inquisitor, he did something
wrong.”

Milo shakes
his head emphatically. “No, Libby, you weren’t there. He tried and
tried to find something in me. I’d been to Inquests for a couple of
my cousins I was close to. He didn’t do anything wrong. There was
nothing for him to find. I don’t have any talents.”

“Yes, you do,”
I argue. My adamant tone makes the guy at the table across from us
look at me warily. I ignore him, but I do try to lower my voice.
“You have at least two, and maybe more. The way you punched Lance
today, you never should have been able to do that. Lance is one of
the strongest and fastest people I know. He started to punch you
first, and he should have connected before you could even think
about hitting him. And you hit him so hard! He flew into the wall.
Without his own Strength, I don’t think he would have gotten back
up so easily. Add in Speed and Strength and that makes four.”