Page 112 of The Order

She looks at me with her bright eyes and a gray mane. All I can do is nod, returning my gaze to Fallan as his hands find me again.

“There's no scenario in which them seeing you in here is any good,” Fallan says, looking around for a quick way out.

“I can’t leave,” I whisper, touching his hand. “They will see me and know who I am because of my father.”

The unknown power within me begins to swell, scraping along my mind, begging to be released.

“Besides, I’m not leaving you with any other Officials, not that you want me sticking around right now,” I finish, hearing the thud from the wall closest to us.

“You’d think you’d be able to put in code quicker than that. They're supposed to forget, not cower in fear waiting on your ass for ten minutes,”one of the men says, and I realize they’ve got a Re-Regulation Device.

“I’m going out there,” Fallan says, moving closer to the door. “They won’t come snooping through here if I come to them,” he starts, my hand instinctively reaching out toward him.

“No,” I say, feeling a force push against my palm as Fallan goes still.

He looks down at the ground, trying to pry his feet from the spot in front of me. He looks up at me, watching my shaky hand slowly lower. The hold begins to dissipate.

“How long have you been able to do that?” Fallan questions, my eyes blankly staring down at my hand.

“Do what?” I question, slowly dropping my hand to my side.

“The Hold,” he says, touching his temple. “An ability to control force, similar to the way I can navigate and control people's thoughts.”

“T-The Hold?” I question with uncertainty.

“You truly don’t know anything about our power, do you?” Fallan looks at me incredulously, like he assumed I had any idea about what’s happening to me.

Three loud knocks pound on Fallan’s apartment door, rattling the locks. Fallan and I exchange a look before frantically searching the space around us, trying to come up with a way out of this. I reflect on what happened in the study with my father and my ability to take away his recollection of what he’s seen on the surveillance tapes. If I can get these men close enough to me, then maybe I have a chance of wiping their minds of what they saw-

“That nearly gave us an aneurysm. I suggest you slip under the bed,”it yells in my mind, breaking through my thoughts.

“We see your light. Open up!” the knocking turns to pounding as the Officials grow impatient.

“I can try and get you out the window,” Fallan whispers. I grab his arm, stopping him.

“I’m not running,” I whisper, backing away from him.

The pounding grows more frantic as I meet the floor, forcing my body under his bed, using what material I can from his sheets to hide myself. I cover my body, noticing a small hole in the sheet that I can use to see out of while staying fully concealed. Something familiar collides with my thigh. I feel the cover of my sketchbook brush my fingers, wondering at what point Fallan managed to grab it. Fallan gives me a stern look, only to turn away, pausing in front of his door.

“You’ve got two seconds before we break the door,” the man continues as his foot collides with the bottom of the doorframe.

“Whatever happens, stay under there,”Fallan whispers through our connection as he moves to undo the locks.

I draw deep breaths, clenching my nails to my palms in frustration.

“I wonder if he knows how much we’re looking forward to this,”it beckons, its voice filled with anticipation.

“Or how bloodthirsty his Little Dove really is,”it finishes, my heart racing as the door swings open on its hinges.

My fear clings to me like a mask, cracking when I see the two Officials standing in front of Fallan in the doorframe, nothing but malice written on their faces.

Chapter thirty-seven

Forest

Fallanbacksawayfromthe doorway, waiting patiently as the men glance inside his space. I cover my mouth to control my breathing, unsure how much they can hear from their distance. The men look at the area with disgust, each dressed head to toe in the traditional Official uniform.

They move into the space and begin running their hands along his things. Their hands cover the hilts of their prods and pistols, ready to pull them at any moment. I watch them fidget with their Re-Regulation Devices, eyeing Fallan’s chip like two kids in a candy shop.

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