Page 57 of Splitting Secrets
Raze
With the rest of the Midnight Syndicate aware of what has happened to the prisoners, they’ve had no choice but to allow Divina back into their meetings along with the rest of the members. They need all hands on deck if they’re going to create a successful smear campaign against the woman who bested them.
They’ve called for a short recess on our daily torture session—I mean, meeting—to allow everyone a chance to eat and relieve themselves, though a majority of us have opted to remain in the meeting hall, anyway. I can’t risk missing a single conversation if it leads to them somehow getting closer to finding our safe house or expediting our plans again. Divina moseyed over to the seat beside me about ten minutes into our meeting, facing forward to appear casual.
“You know where she is, don’t you?” Her voice is low enough that the people sitting around us won’t hear, but I glance around, anyway.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply, my expression neutral.
She turns to face me and drops her voice to a whisper-hiss. “Cut the bullshit, Raze. We’ve known each other a long time.”
I brush a speck of lint off my slacks. “If I discovered where the prisoners were, the Supremes would be the first to know.”
“Okay, and while we’re exchanging fables, my daughter would still be alive and you would have alerted us that Sonny had taken her place at Ravenshurst,” she deadpans, her face falling flat.
“The woman who attended under Penelope’s name claimed to be her. She fit the description. I had no reason to believe she was anyone but who she said she was,” I reply in an equally bland tone. It’s the same excuse I gave James when he tried to confront me about the same thing.
“Iknowyou, Raze,” she insists, doubling down. “I saw the restraint you showed with her in those cells, and so did they.” She tilts her head toward James and Ashton, who each have their heads bowed down to look at whatever paper Hatchcroft has slapped on their bench. “If you didn’t know where she was, you wouldn’t be here, playing politics. You’d be combing every inch of this town until you found some scrap of evidence.”
“Are you insinuating that I’m lying to our Supremes?” I lift a brow at her that silently warns against admitting to such an accusation.
“I’m insinuating that your loyalties might lie somewhere else,” she mutters conspiratorially without moving her lips. “Somewhere near where mine have always been.”
I turn my shoulders to face her fully now, making no attempt to hide my appraisal of her words.
Did Divina Carmichael just admit to siding with the rebellion?That would be news to me.
A subtle prod into her psyche is met with ironclad blocks. Makes sense, if she’s hiding a secret as big as this in a room full of people who would report her in an instant. Especially as a Valerian.
Why is she admitting to this now, though? To me, of all people?
I keep my mouth shut to see how much she’s going to reveal. Of course, she’s smarter than most of the brainless skin suits in this room. Instead of verbally admitting anything where someone might overhead, I feel her presence scraping against my mind.
This is a tricky game we’re playing here. If I allow her in too much, she could discovermysecrets. It would be her word against mine and admittedly, her word means a lot less these days. But is it worth the risk to get leverage over her?
I hesitantly pull my mental shield up, just enough to allow her to speak to me without an audience.
“You cannot let them get to her,” her voice rushes into my mind. “They won’t stop at anything to find her, and they’d rather see her dead than allow her to reach her full potential.”
“Why would you care about that?” I answer out loud. To speak into her mind would be too damning. Only Valerians and Mirranes are capable of communicating back. And Landrys, I suppose.
That’s how I caught on to Sonny in the interrogation room.
“Sonny is my family. She’s like a second daughter. I know she doesn’t believe it but I—” She stops herself, turning toward her lap to watch her wringing hands. “Everything I’ve done is to ensure her safety.”
“Why do I find that so hard to believe?”
She jerks back up to face me, her cheeks flushed and brows pinched. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me. There isn’t a person in this room who knows my true intentions. All I’m asking you to do is keep her safe from them. She doesn’t trust me, but for some godforsaken reason, she trusts you.”
I consider her for a breath, toying with the idea that perhaps I had her pegged completely wrong. The rebellion was formed by her best friend. They went on to marry two brothers and have kids at the same time. Couldn’t they have maintained a strong friendship despite her part in what happened to Constance and Bane?
She was forced into the Midnight Syndicate, same as me—and I fucking hate them for it.
It’s completely plausible for her to have the same feelings.
It’s also plausible for her to have been serving as a leak to the rebellion when it was just getting started.
Still, it would be a mistake to trust her. So, the only thing I give her is, “I’ll continue as I have.”
