Page 27 of Uncontrolled

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you!” the guy says from where he trails me. He sounds miserable. “Damn it,” he mumbles. “I knew I’d mess this up.”

My brain’s spinning through a dozen scenarios at once. I remember the old man at the cabin.

I wonder what technique Jamison used to separate Corbin from the rest, if he isolated him the way he isolated me when he got me clear of my dad’s place. I wonder if Corbin grasped that he was being used, if Jamison convinced him to trap Allie as a test to measure how far I would go to protect her.

I spin on the hunter. When I speak, I thread my voice through with enough worry to sound genuine. “Jamison won’t answer my texts. All my calls go to voicemail,” I say before I scrunch my nose. “Who are you?”

“Quinn,” he says, reaching for a handshake.

I pump his fist once and drop it, ignoring how Quinn wipes his palm across the hip of his jeans.

“And you’re…” He hesitates. “Ploy?”

“Ploy works,” I tell him. This whole thing still seems weird. Out of all the hunters, they picked this one to approach me? Did they send their weakest member to give me the illusion of control? Or are they disorganized? Could he have come on his own?

A strange, unsettled feeling thrums through me.

“And this group you’re with?” I prod when he doesn’t take charge of the conversation.

“Oh! We’re…” Under the brim of his ball cap, his forehead furrows. “It’d be better if you told me what you gathered about the…” He fades into silence, and then a small sound of uncertainty escapes him. “About how people in this town can…” Leaning close to me, he whispers, “raise the dead.”

He steps back and I have about a quarter of a second to decide on the cold evenness in my expression. “What did Jamison tell you about me?”

It’s not the question he expected. I watch the confusion break through him and realize a moment too late where his brain is going. “You’re not a resurrectionist?” he asks.

There’s a weird confidence to the question, as if he already knows the answer and the asking is a courtesy.

“Of course not!” I force a laugh. It’s unnatural. I’m worried he’ll think I’m lying.

“Okay, he never said. He told one of our members you were his secret weapon. We’ve spotted you with Althea Delany.”

The paths in front of me are closing off one by one. In the drawn-out pause, he waits for me to fill in the blanks.

“Allie? Yeah.” I’ve got to give him something. “When Jamison and I started studying their powers, he had me get close to her. She lets me crash on her couch sometimes. I wasn’t sure what to do when he got scarce, so I’ve been sticking to the plan.” I feign bewilderment. “Be stupid to pass up a night inside, you know?”

He snorts and offers me a sympathetic look. “Wait, you’ve just been hanging out with her?” he says, chuffing me in the bicep like we’re old friends.

My new buddy wants to feel smart. I decide to oblige him. “I mean, sure. Jamison said keep an eye on her, so I have been. Honestly, she’s a waste of time, but hey, what he says goes.”

His head cocks. “You know who she is, though?”

I blink. That’s right, I think. Put me in my place.

“She’s the niece of their leader,” he says.

I wait a beat and then give him a nod. “Her aunt is dead, though. House fire.”

The memory of what really happened slithers through me. Jamison torching the house to hide the evidence. Me leading Allie through the woods, her heartbreak, the orange and red shine on the tree leaves, the smoke in the air, the scent of swamp and rain and then Allie’s warm mouth finding mine for the first time, all wrong in the darkness.

I swallow hard. “Apparently there wasn’t a funeral.”

His blank stare unnerves me. “You realize Althea is in charge in this area.”

It’s more Talia than Allie, but I don’t correct him. “She’s secretive about all that stuff,” I say instead. “But she’s been sloppy lately. I’ve overheard a few phone calls.”

A blaze of interest fills his hazel irises. “What’d you hear?”

We’re trading information. I have to prove to him I have details he might not. I size him up and then offer what I hope is a sympathetic smile. “Man, no offence. I don’t know you and Jamison never said anything about—”

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