Page 44 of Snag (Conduit #2)

My phone screen flickers, then blacks out again. Either Coda is still working on breaking through Reck’s Authority-issued black box, or the awry tech is just letting me know they have eyes on me.

Another fifteen minutes pass in silence.

So many lost years, lost memories, and shared moments stretch between me and the shifter at my side. Yet neither of us has anything to say to the other.

“You don’t remember,” Reck finally says as if picking up my thoughts, not even glancing my way. It’s a confirmation, not a question. “You don’t remember us. You don’t remember that night. You don’t remember dying.”

“I have vague memories of waking,” I say, keeping my gaze out the side window.

It hurts, I realize. Somewhere buried deep inside me, it hurts that he obviously doesn’t give a shit about me. Mack’s photos and my conversations with Rought and Rath truly had me believing differently.

Reck takes another breath as if to speak, still not looking at me. But he doesn’t voice whatever follow-up question he had.

“There are no threads between us,” I say.

“I don’t know what that means,” he snaps.

“Had you manifested your beast?” I ask, slightly detached. Not numb, but focused, waiting for whatever the universe is trying to shield me from. “That night. When I died. Had you manifested?”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference against him,” Reck says, not wholly believing it. The half-lie filters through to me easily.

“So yes.”

“What does it matter?”

“Rought hadn’t transformed into the gryphon yet,” I say, still weaving together that section of my past, of my missing bonds. “And Rath transformed in the aftermath, correct? The dragon manifested to help heal him.”

“More like save his life,” Reck mutters grimly. “Why would it matter now, Zaya?”

I think about that question for a moment. I think about the maliciousness that Reck and his beast practically breathe. I think about being drawn to Rought, and even to Rath, despite the absence of anchored bonds.

“You’re supposed to be mine,” I say finally. He doesn’t feel like mine at all.

“I was never fucking yours,” Reck snarls. “And I won’t have you now.”

“Our destinies were once entwined,” I say, ignoring the sharp ache radiating through my chest.

He scoffs. “Believe whatever you want.”

“Disa thought she’d rejected her soul-bound mates,” I say, surprised at the evenness of my tone.

“So?” he snaps.

“So her death nearly took the Outcast with her, just like all her chosen died.”

Reck finally fixes his gaze on me. I instantly wish he were looking at the road instead, and not only because he’s still driving way too fast.

His gaze is filled with utter loathing. No matter his repeated declaration to not hurt me, Reck Guerra hates me. Utterly and unequivocally.

I try to shrug it off. “Soul bonds might not be so easily severed. If the Conduit herself couldn’t snip them.”

“The threads you mentioned,” he says.

“Yes.”

“You said there aren’t any between us.”

“There aren’t. ”

“I’m not interested in your fucking games, Zaya. What the fuck is your point?”

“You’re driving me to my death right now,” I say casually.

He huffs nastily. “I already told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

The half-truth brushes against me. I flip my hand, as if I can capture that snarled false declaration in my palm.

Reck flinches, inadvertently jerking the steering wheel just enough that the SUV swerves across the road.

He curses, slowing to get us back in the proper lane.

Not that we’ve seen many other vehicles.

Crossing through the barrens isn’t for the casual traveler and certainly isn’t a preferred trade route.

“Stop fucking with me,” he says.

“Stop lying to me,” I say mildly.

He stiffens. “Bellamy can’t take you.”

“And your agents?”

He huffs dismissively.

I let the silence stretch between us for a moment. “Who killed me?” I finally ask. “Who crossed through the boundaries of the intersection point unimpeded? Was my aunt there? Rought said he — you all were banished from the estate. Was that in the lingering aftermath? Or as a result of my death?”

Reck’s grip tightens on the steering wheel again. His lips are pressed against his teeth so hard that they’re white. His jaw is etched in tension.

“Is my murderer still alive?” I ask. “After facing off with my aunt? How is that possible?”

“It shouldn’t have been,” Reck mutters. “It never should have fucking happened in the first place. You should have been safe from him!”

I know now, even without Reck actually voicing the name. It’s clearer even than I gleaned from the conversation in the Outcast’s dining room. Who could stand against my aunt? Or who could at least flee from her, leaving me dead at her feet?

“I tried to banish Rath,” I say, sounding thoughtful even if my head is mostly empty.

“What?”

“From the estate. He grabbed me —”

“What!?”

I wave off his concern, not bothering to analyze it. “But even after I claimed the intersection point, he walks the land without permission.”

“I’m not fucking following what you’re saying, Zaya.”

I finally look at him, indulging in doing so for a moment. He’s beautiful, even in profile.

He’s supposed to be mine.

But he’s not. He’s not mine.

“My aunt is dead,” I say. “At least a century before her time.”

“I know.”

“She had tea with someone the afternoon she went missing. Though I’m guessing on the timeline a bit. Someone lured her from the property with some issue … some emergency. Was it you?”

“It wasn’t.”

He’s not lying.

“What is your fucking point?” Reck snaps. “I didn’t kill Disa.”

“You wouldn’t have been capable of it.”

“Right. But?”

“Someone obviously did. ”

“Well, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t my agents, and it wasn’t Bellamy,” he says. “So you’re perfectly safe.”

“No,” I say, finally looking away from him. “My aunt was perfectly safe with you. You were supposed to be mine.”

“I’m not fucking yours!” He shakes his head, trying to settle himself.

I let it go. I don’t have any proof of anything yet, and I hate mucking around in supposition. I hate guessing.

Reck glances at me, then away. He shifts his hands on the wheel, then plays with the climate controls on the console.

The silence that fills the vehicle now is sharp, filling with a slow creep of bitter malevolence.

A text message appears on the console. Ten minutes, asshole.

The pinned location on the map shifts. Again. As if Bellamy has sent an update. But we’re near now.

“I’m on my fucking way, you fucking bitch,” Reck says.

His words appear on the console a moment later. He must have pressed some button on the steering wheel to connect to his phone, which is connected to the SUV. Or routed through the SUV to get around the black box?

“Smooth,” I say. “Clear. Precise. Not at all incendiary.”

“She claims to be my fucking sister, and she tried to fuck me!”

“No,” I say. “She pretended to be me, and you tried to fuck her.”

“Same thing. It’s fucking sick.”

“Either way?” I ask, just a little mockingly.

He spares me an irate glance.

I still don’t feel drawn to him, not even remotely. I understand he’s objectively gorgeous. Dark and deadly. That his beast must lend him immense strength. Even extra powers, perhaps. I assume his senior position in the Authority might even beguile some people. But not me.

“What?” he snaps, chafing under my regard.

I shrug. “There aren’t any threads between us.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Why?”

A middle finger emoticon appears on the console.

Reck scoffs, flicking his fingers toward the message. “See? Just a fucking child playing at being a villain.”

“I suppose it takes one to know one,” I say.

“Now who’s the child?” he mocks.

“Still you.”

“We’re not having this conversation.”

“What conversation? The one we’re currently having?”

He inhales. That press of malevolence all but boils around him. Then he exhales and reins it all in.

Impressive.

“Nothing matters more than Presh,” he says calmly.

“I agree. Presh ranks incredibly high in the things that matter.”

“This isn’t banter.” He loosens his hands on the steering wheel, relaxing into his seat. All deliberate adjustments. “I don’t fucking love you. I never fucking loved you. I would fucking sacrifice you in a moment if it meant saving any members of my family.”

Those measured words — rephrased but voiced for the second time — ache through me.

They’re also clearly a lie.

I’m not certain which parts are false, but am presuming it’s the mention of not loving me in the past.

I’m also not certain why Reck needs to make his position so clear. “I heard you the first time,” I say quietly. “And I know.”

“You know?” he mocks. “The great and terrible Conduit knows all.”

“I know.” I look at him steadily. “That you’re about to sacrifice me.”

“I said I wouldn’t hurt you. I’m tired of fucking repeating it.”

“That’s not the same thing, though,” I say. “Not in your mind.”

“Don’t pretend to know me.”

“The great and terrible Conduit knows all.”

“Fuck you,” he sneers.

The road twists ahead of us, cutting toward the foot of the mountains.

I look out the side window, to where the clouds have dissipated over the arid plains.

A congregation of vultures circle in the near distance, wings splayed and coasting on the wind.

The universe tugs at me, almost half-heartedly.

As if it knows the decision has already been made.

“So that’s what you did,” I say, running my thumb across the blank screen of my phone. I should text Rought, even if Coda has already reached out. That’s … proper, right? To reach out to my … lover before —

“What?”

“You didn’t kill me,” I say. “But you did sacrifice me to save Rought and Reck.”

“Zaya …” His voice cracks. The utterance of my name is packed with barely concealed pain.

“I understand,” I say before he can cover his reaction. Or explain it. “I would never expect to matter to anyone, and certainly not more than your brothers. Previously soul bonded or not. ”

The SUV navigates a final turn. The mountains fill the horizon dead ahead of us now, snow still covering their craggy peaks. But a flattened vista spreads out to the right.

In a deliberately cleared area just off the road, a single squat concrete outpost is set to the side of a paved lot.

The crumbling pavement is overgrown with dead weeds at the edges.

The steel front door of the outpost is barred, with a fluorescent-yellow emergency phone hanging to the right.

No windows. A satellite dish is secured to the roof.

Presumably, an emergency kit and rations, as well as temporary shelter, can be found within as long as the phone works, the satellite connects, or a ranger is on-site.

For the sake of whoever might otherwise be here, I hope the outpost is remotely monitored, with no rangers around. Because Bellamy stands next to an older sedan in the lot. Her athame is in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

No sign of the Authority agents or their vehicle.

I have no doubt they’re here, though.

Presh and Deville are pressed together in the back seat of Bellamy’s vehicle.

Reck veers off the road, almost rolling the SUV. Then he brings us to an abrupt stop a few meters away from Bellamy.

I lay my hand on the door handle. The universe gives me one final tug. Then that energy slips away, leaving me to my choices. Muta curls around my arm but doesn’t revert to his bracelet form.

“Zaya,” Reck says again, gaze riveted to Bellamy but his attention on me.

Ignoring him, I step out of the SUV.