Page 53 of Echos and Empires
“A new boat came?” Emma practically heaved beside him.
“That’s right. Well, the scouting boat. Main ship will be here in about a day. We always come first, but I don’t expect you to know that since this is your first new arrivals.”
Chris’s mind raced, parsing the seemingly innocuous statement for hidden meaning. Was it a coded message? A warning? He kept his own voice casual as he replied, “Must be that, but I gotta say I’m shocked I didn’t know a new boat was almost here..”
Jason shot him an odd look, and Chris tensed, wondering if he’d mis-stepped. But then the other man chuckled, shaking his head. “Guess you're not quite cool enough yet.”
Chris forced a smile, even as his heart pounded behind his ribs. “Well, we’ve all got our crosses to bear,” he said, hoping the vague platitude would be enough to end the conversation.
Thankfully, Jason took the hint, clapping Chris on the shoulder before peeling off with a wave. But the encounter left Chris shaken, a cold sweat prickling his skin that had nothing to do with the temperature.
It was a stark reminder of the tightrope he walked every day, the constant threat of discovery that hung over his head like a sword of Damocles. One wrong word, one misinterpreted phrase, and everything could unravel.
He thought of the resistance, still so new and fragile, dependent on his ability to navigate these treacherous waters. Then his mind turned to Emma, to the tiny, precious lifegrowing beneath her heart, and a different kind of fear gripped him.
He couldn’t afford to slip up, not even for a second. Too much depended on him, on his ability to play this deadly game without losing himself in the process.
Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Chris composed himself, pushing down the fear and the doubt and the nagging sense of impending disaster. He had a role to play, and he would play it to perfection.
“You okay?” Emma asked as they walked.
“Honestly? Not a fucking chance, but we have no choice but to act like we are.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything else.
Chris kept her close as they walked, his senses on high alert, scanning for any hint of trouble. It was exhausting, this constant state of hypervigilance, but he knew he couldn’t let his guard down for a moment.
Not when the slightest misstep could bring Victor’s wrath crashing down on all their heads. And if protecting Emma meant living every second on a knife’s edge, then that was a price he would gladly pay.
Even if, sometimes, in the deepest, darkest corner of his heart, he wondered how long he could keep up this charade before it broke him entirely.
By the time they reached the clinic, his mask was firmly in place, the calm, unflappable exterior that had served him so well over the years. Emma took his hand and tugged him to a stop.
“Better?” she asked softly, her hand coming up to rest on his chest.
“Fine,” he assured her, covering her hand with his own. “Just a lot on my mind. Are you ready to go? To have to defend yourself all over again when I’m right on the other side of the door and can’t.” Had he not held her hand he would’ve squeezedhis together to bleed out some of his fury. He couldn’t be this pissed off and not create a problem for them.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She patted her pocket. “I’m not sure where I’ll swap this too when I change.”
He gestured for her to pass the loaded syringe to him and when she did, he separated her ponytail of curls just a bit and slipped it in. “Might take a moment to grab it out, but it’s safer there than you trying to move it from hand to hand.”
And I need to know you’re going to come out with all the memories as when you went in.
“Now or never,” Emma gave a deep sigh.
“I’m here, Emma and I swear to god if I hear anything, I’m going to burst through the walls and we’ll get the hell out of here.”
She nodded and went on her tiptoes to kiss him quickly. He held her close, not wanting to admit how scared he was and how fucking impressed she made him with her bravery.
“Let’s go,” she whispered, and took the first steps forward, pulling him closer until the automatic doors slid open.
The clinic waiting room was too quiet, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of turning magazine pages and the distant, muffled sound of a television. Chris sat ramrod straight in the uncomfortable plastic chair, his entire body thrumming with tension, like a coiled spring ready to snap.
He wasn’t sure what had triggered the sudden sense of foreboding, the icy trickle down his spine that told him something was wrong. But as his gaze swept the room, taking in the bored expressions and listless postures of the other patients, he realized what it was.
Or rather, who.
Darius sat across the room, his dark eyes fixed on Chris with an intensity that bordered on predatory. Victor’s right-hand man, his enforcer and chief asshole as far as Chris had noticed.The two had a history already, a simmering animosity born of too many close calls and veiled threats since Chris became more important to security. Seeing him here, now, sent a jolt of pure dread through Chris’s system.
