Page 51 of From the Noblest Motives
"Your mother's worried about you."
Hillary picked at a blade of grass as she sighed. "I knew she would be. Sorry about that. Could you… I mean you have connections, and you could get a message to her, couldn't you?"
"You could just call her," Damien suggested gently.
"No, I mean, yeah, I could. But we're not supposed to make calls from the plantation. They could be traced. And it's not like I can leave yet. Cyril needs me here."
"I'll see what I can do. Let Cyril know I'll talk to him later."
Hillary turned the full force of her smile on him "Thank you! I knew you'd be nice. You're his kid, right?"
She jogged back down the stairs, red ponytail flying behind her. All of that certainly hadn't been what Damien had expected. Not that he was entirely convinced—something was still off here. Perhaps many things. But any possible connection to the Fredamine Project had gone from definite to a pale and distant unlikely.
He returned to the house just in time to meet Blaze and an exhausted Shudder coming in the front door. After a quick once-over to make certain they were both unharmed, Damien tipped his head to look up at Blaze. "I have had the strangest day."
11
JUDICIOUS CHAOS
Nothing could've been cozier than waking up as the sandwich between two beautiful men in a comfortable bed, with the air conditioning whispering in the vents. The only thing that spoiled the moment for Shudder was that the wall screen was on, and someone had turned on the news. Even worse,hewas the news.
"It's too early for this." With a groan, Shudder stuffed his head under a pillow. "I'm never, ever doing another news conference. Why do they keep showing that anemic, pathetic person giving anews conference?"
"Hey. Don't you insult the anemic, pathetic person," Blaze rumbled. "I kinda have a crush on him. Seriously, you wanna watch this, Shuds. You're getting some traction."
Shudder peeked out from under the pillow to see that the wall image had shifted to an official-looking wood-paneled room, where a woman in a sharp lilac suit spoke to the reporters. The caption underneath readSen. Kayala Morse. "I know her."
"I'd fucking hope so."
Damien just patted Shudder's chest and said, "Shh."
It had been a while since they'd spoken, but she hadn't changed since Shudder had seen her last. One of only two openly variant members of the legislature, Senator Morse had always been a staunch defender of civil rights—all civil rights. Shudder had met with her on several occasions to talk about the ongoing invasive testing and registration of variant children.
The vid lights emphasized the blue highlights of her ebony skin, her hands relaxed on the lectern as she spoke. "As a test case for new legislation, the McKenzie trial provides a less-than-stellar example of transparency in court proceedings. Senator Woolsey and I have requested a special investigation into evidence and chain of custody irregularities."
The crawl at the bottom of the vid stated the senator's full statement would be on the station's stream as the vid shifted to a demonstration at the capitol. Pretty good crowd, Shudder thought, though the camera angles could be deceptive. Lots ofVariant RightsandJustice for Shuddersigns—rather heartwarming—but alsoRepeal Horace. Lots and lots of those.
"This is better. I like this coverage." Shudder wriggled out of the covers to prop himself against the headboard. "All those nice people worried about me."
"Yep, all about you." Blaze growled. He kissed the top of Shudder's head, so the growl wasn't that serious.
"In this case, yes," Damien said without looking up from his palm phone. "This is about Shudder. Capitol security states the variant-rights protesters increased by three hundred percent since yesterday's news conference."
"Oh." Shudder pulled the covers up farther, revisiting the urge to hide.
This… all of this had been the attention he'd always pursued for variant rights, for equality. Before, though, it had always been about other people—his kids, the schoolchildren, the variant slums. He'd never connected himself with oppression on a concrete hit-you-in-the-gut level until now. His life had been charmed. Above the strife. Yes, he'd had run-ins with the authorities, plenty of them, but those were entirely his doing. Purposeful, targeted chaos.
After the ambush, the trial, the anxiety and humiliation of incarceration, and the panic and trauma of escape, the last thing he wanted was attention. He wanted to curl up, to cocoon and recover, at least until he felt more like himself again. Seeing the ruined image of himself over and over, his name everywhere, it stripped him naked of his few remaining defenses, left him flayed and trembling and exposed.
Without looking up, Damien put a hand on his arm. "Blaze, turn it off, please."
"They're gonna interview the trial lawyers," Blaze protested.
Damien didn't even raise his head. He moved his eyes just enough to glare at Blaze, nod toward Shudder, and glare again.
"Got it." Blaze cleared his throat and turned off the screen. "What's the plan today?"
"Observe. If they let me," Damien murmured, still searching for something on his phone. "Shudder should come, too."
