Page 63 of Broken Ties
It’s as close to asking for my help as I think he can force himself to get, and I view it as the white flag it’s obviously meant to be. “What exactly have you found and why’s it worth a field trip while we’re under fire and closing ranks?”
He leans forward to set his cup down and flips open the file. There’s pages of ciphers, his own scrawling notes as well as others used by the Resistance. They still haven’t figured out that cracking codes is child’s play to Nox, and North if he can spare the time, so their attempts at concealment are wasted.
“There are multiple references to something they’re calling ‘Ground Zero’. It shows up around the same time as the Magnifier did, but there are private logs of sympathizers and incident reports from more than a dozen high ranking soldiers about these ‘efficacy trials’.”
He pauses for a moment, his eyes hard on mine as though he’s gauging how seriously I’m taking him before he continues. “Silas Davies is mentioned repeatedly in the private logs. They’re not written by him but at his orders. Whatever they’re testing, it’s their magnum opus—their next attempt to gain control of the entire country, not just the favor of the Gifted community.”
The coffee curdles before it has the chance to hit my stomach, my entire body revolting against that possibility. The last attempt was, of course, the riots back in the seventies, and the death toll was catastrophic. There isn’t a single Gifted that isn’t still mourning the loss of family, and those who fought and survived still bear scars. The fracture that firstsplit our community in two—the Gifted and the Resistance. After the horrors that occurred, those elitist scum who survived scurried under rocks and behind the locked doors in their gated communities until enough time had passed for them to rebrand.
Instead of acknowledging their vile actions and barbaric motives, they suddenly began to call themselvessympathizers. The word was chosen with the precision of a master manipulator, a deliberate twist of the truth to soften the reality of their crimes. They painted a new image of themselves to a community with a new generation of Gifted without firsthand experience to fall back on, their terminology designed to put a spin on their atrocities.
Their campaign was a quiet one, whispers among the Gifted and a carefully executed plan to shift the narrative. If you spoke today to hundreds of Gifted throughout the country, many of them now hold a neutral stance on those riots. It’s as if that one word—sympathizers—erased the evil done, as though the Resistance was never the oppressive power and instead were the underdogs fighting for a noble cause. As though the conflict is merely a difference of opinions and not a band of powerful, murderous tyrants preying on the weakest and most disadvantaged of our community to exploit in their endless thirst for power. The violent and maniacal Gifted responsible for the worst war crimes our people have ever known have been given new roles in the minds of the weakest Gifted, their names now worthy of consideration and courtesy.
Nox, still watching me with keenly assessing eyes, nods curtly at the frustrated anger now pouring off of me in waves. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m happy that the Magnifier hunt was put on hold, but this isn’t an attempt to get around North and the council. If what I suspect is true and Davies has a plan in motion to deploy Gifted capable of killing Gifted on a large scale, we need to know about it.”
I don’t even know how we could fight back against something like that. Currently, we couldn’t. Being a TacTeam leader means never giving up, never going into a fight without the intention of making it out alive no matter the circumstances, but I don’t need the Gift of the Truth to know we’re utterly fucked if Davies is about to unleash something like that on us all.
Digging my phone out of my pocket, I nod back to Nox. “I’ll call Black and get a replacement sent over to relieve his post. We’ll leave as soon as he gets back here, so you should go change. Just because there’s no indicator of Resistance in the area doesn’t mean we should let our guard down. Full armor, just in case.”
He takes that well, no arguing or snapping back at the orders as he stalks to the changing rooms. It’s a night and day difference from the man I was dealing with only days ago, the snarling and enraged Gifted acting viciously petty toward my Bond. All it took was the imminent threat of outright war to get his head collected again.
North was right to get him working on this to keep his mind away from the situation with our Bond, and hopefully he’s uncovered this nightmare before it can cleave our community apart any further.
Black pops into existence in record time, spurred on by the urgency in my orders, and I barely finish debriefing him before Nox stalks out of the locker room covered in weapons and bulletproof layers.
Kieran also forgoes the usual bullshit games he and Nox throw at each other, only giving him a curt nod before he asks, “How did you find the intel? If it’s not about the magnifier, where else have you been digging shit up?”
Nox’s mouth tightens. “It was hidden in plain sight with the Magnifier intel. That crate I was able to pillage obviously hadrecords of the most powerful Gifted at their disposal. I should’ve taken the whole damned thing.”
Ash, acrid on the back of my tongue, and sharp enough I have to turn on the spot to stop Black from spotting my fumble. He’s too busy eyeing Nox for now, clearly preparing himself for the snide jabs at his own involvement in that illicit mission, and I stalk around the table to get us on the move.
Nox doesn’t look at me, but it’s in that way of his that lets me know I have his full attention. That’s perfectly fine, he also has mine because why the hell is he lying to Kieran about the information, and if he didn’t get it from the Magnifier intel, where the fuckdidhe hunt it down from?
Ignorant to the tension brewing between the two of us, Black glances at the coordinates Nox hands him before he holds out an arm for us to both take. He’s one of the strongest Transporters we have, but it’s not just his range and longevity that sets him apart from others. He spent years learning everything there is to know about maps, corresponding coordinates and the countries of the world until he was a walking encyclopedia of precision traveling. A series of numbers is all he needs to get us where we need to go.
The moment our feet hit the ground, I swallow rapidly against the violent rush of bile up the back of my throat. Getting used to being Transported means I figured out how to not puke my guts up, not that I can control the reaction entirely. I loathe it, but there’s no way around it.
I’m still trying to get my stomach to cooperate, barely aware of the fact that Nox has stepped away from us, when he practically snarls at Black, “Go back and get North.Now.”
My head snaps up, gut still churning, but my discomfort becomes my last priority the second I lay eyes on the rattled state Nox is in. Instantly I’m reaching out with my Gift, not towardhim but to our surroundings in case we’re under attack and I’ve somehow missed it.
Nothing.
An empty field in the middle of nowhere Nebraska. I reach the limits of my power without finding any signs of human life. Except for a few squirrels and a small herd of cows, there’s nothing but grass around us. An expanse of flat nothingness stretches out before us, only broken up by a large overgrown ditch a few feet in front of us.
Grass grows down the perfectly squared sides, the only real sign that someone dug it intentionally, and there’s nothing to suggest danger that I can see. It only takes a glance at Nox, though, to tell there’s far more to see here. His hand, hanging at his side, has a fine tremble in it as he stares down into the pit.
A shiver runs down my spine.
Nox doesn’t get rattled—unless our Bond is involved.
Black turns to look at me with a scowl, but I only nod back. Nox has been non-confrontational and thorough from the moment he arrived at my desk, no bullshit or mind games in sight. If he’s found something urgent enough to pull North into this, then that’s exactly what needs to happen.
I’ll take the blame if that’s the wrong call.
Blackpopsout of view, and I steady myself with a deep breath before I step over to join Nox.
That same breath catches in my chest before slowly leaking out of my lungs.