Unforgettable (Talented Saga #6) (36 page)

*Agents Lyons, Kelley, and
Kraft, report to the conference room of Walburton Manor.
IMMEDIATELY. The council is waiting.*

The comm wasn’t too bad, in and of
itself—she’d refrained from profanity, after all. The all caps,
though, spoke volumes. Even more ominous were those last four
words: The council is waiting. And not in the ‘hey, let’s have a
friendly chat’ sense. Including the other night, I’d only faced the
entire UNITED council a few times. They were an imposing bunch, and
only convened as a group when something serious was
happening.

Given both the magnitude and
sensitivity of this mission, it made sense that certain members of
the council would want to be debriefed about the actual events on
Andrew’s Rock. But the entire council?

Shit
.

My only hope was that between Talia’s
innate ability to weasel her way out of sticky situations,
Frederick’s diplomacy and bargaining skills, and Victoria’s love
for me, we might be able to walk away from this with only a stiff
reprimand.

And hell was just a tropical location
with throngs of bikini-clad Talia clones, eager to serve me fruity
drinks.

“
REALLY?
IS THE
foot tapping necessary? It’s
worse than water torture,” I groaned.

Chaz, the incessant foot-tapper,
paused to spare me the briefest of glances, and then resumed his
annoying habit.

“
Block him out, Tals. He’s
just trying to get under your skin,”
Erik
sent.

“
Well, it’s
working.”

Frederick, Erik, and I were crammed
together on a red lacquered bench outside the conference room in
Walburton Manor, awaiting our turn with the council.
Babysitters-turned-prison-guards, Chaz and Viktor were stationed at
either end of the hallway, both men fully-armed and hyper-alert.
Their rigid postures and twitchy trigger fingers suggested they
were anticipating an escape attempt at any moment. The steel cuffs
dangling from Chaz’s belt taunted me with the promise that, soon,
they’d be encircling my wrists like shiny new bracelets.

“
Stop, Tals. You don’t know
what’s going to happen in there. They might just want to talk to
us. You know, hear our side of the story. And once they do, they’ll
understand why you did what you did.”

Erik placed a comforting hand on my
denim-clad thigh and squeezed.

Disregarding Victoria’s mandate to
report directly to the conference room, I had gone upstairs and
traded the torn and stained teal gown for faded jeans and a sky
blue t-shirt. Comfort was key when being berated by a mob of angry
councilmembers, after all.

The detour also provided an excuse for
my tardiness, should Victoria ask. When, in reality, the main
reason I was late had little to do with my wardrobe.

“
That’s assuming the
council is up for listening to our side of the story,”
I sent back.
“I’m not so
sure they will be. Not after they’re done with Catherine,
anyway.”

In my absence, the council decided to
first interrogate Catherine Canary alone about the events that had
taken place at Andrew’s Rock. This didn’t bode well in my
opinion—Catherine had not agreed with my actions at the time, and
it was unlikely she changed her tune in the interim. Odds were that
she was sealing my fate with the council while I twiddled my thumbs
on a hard, wooden bench with the Chinese symbols for hope and
destiny mocking me from beneath my butt.

To make matters worse—if that was even
possible—Catherine was present when Kenly made a beautiful speech
about hunting down the Poachers and when I, subsequently, promised
not to stop her. For a strictly-by-the-book agent like Catherine
that promise was tantamount to treason. The Created were supposed
to be contained, not caught, armed, and rereleased into the world
to wreak more havoc. In providing Kenly and her friends—James,
Riley, Willa, and Honora—with weapons, clothing, food, and all the
globes left in Frederick’s wallet, I’d done just that. This act of
defiance was the real reason I was late to my reprimand
party.

Thankfully Catherine left before I
handed Kenly the provisions she and the others would need for their
upcoming mission.

I knew the risk I was taking for my
former mentee. But Kenly deserved revenge. She deserved the
opportunity to look her tormentors in the eye and show them that
they had not won, that she was not beaten. She deserved vengeance
for herself and every other Talent who’d been harmed by the
Poachers’ black market trade. Otherwise, Kenly would never fully
recover from her ordeal at Andrew’s Rock.

My only regret about letting Kenly go
was that I could not join her.

Well, that, and the fact
Erik was not happy about the arrangement. It was a point of
contention between us. He thought the risk was too great. That
Kenly was too unstable to be trusted on her own. My
argument—that
we
were Created, and doing just fine without constant
supervision—was met with an exasperated eye roll.

“
We
are
under constant supervision,
Tals,” he’d said. “Or did the tracking devices in our communicators
fool you? Or maybe you bought Victoria’s story about relocating us
to Eden for our own protection. Oh, wait, I know what it is—the
routine medical checkups to gauge our sanity. Those really indicate
a lack of supervision.”

Because we were both under a great
deal of stress and our collective emotions were more colorful than
a double rainbow, I’d ignored Erik’s sarcasm and didn’t take the
bait. I was too exhausted to bicker over something that was already
done. I’d also left him out of the loop when Kenly and I made her
getaway plans. Although, that was more for the sake of plausible
deniability on his part, than worry he might object further. When
the other agents realized that Kenly and her friends were missing,
I wanted Erik to honestly be able to say he knew nothing about
it.

The door to the conference room
opened. My head shot up. Catherine exited, her expression devoid of
emotion.

“
Your turn,” she said
flatly.

Curious about what all she’d told the
council, I was on the verge of invading Catherine’s thoughts when
Erik filled my head with a last minute pep-talk.

“
You know the drill, Tals.
We’ve both been in trouble before, this is nothing
new
.
Please, for
the sake of everything you value, remember to think before you
speak. Answer only the question asked, don’t say any more than you
have to. Be respectful and polite. Use proper titles, the council
loves that. If you start to lose your cool, count to ten and think
calm thoughts. Do not let your temper show. Better yet, don’t talk
if you can avoid it. Let Frederick or me answer for the
group.”

“
Your confidence in me is
inspiring,”
I snapped, my tone harsher
than intended.

“
I’m just trying to help,
Tals,”
Erik soothed.
“I’ve seen the gruel they feed the prisoners on Vault. That
stuff makes the kelp burgers on Eden look like fine dining. And
don’t get me started on those containment smocks.”
He shuddered.
“The
fabric is overly starched. It’ll give you a rash in places you
definitely don’t want a rash.”

I spared him a glance so he could
fully appreciate my eye-roll. Erik’s ability to crack a joke, no
matter how inappropriate the situation, was just one of the many
things I loved about him. But for some reason his flippant comments
annoyed me just then.

My lectures from the peanut gallery
weren’t finished with that, though. Apparently Frederick shared
Erik’s concerns about my inability to practice humility. Strongly
enough that he felt the need to say something.

“
This isn’t TOXIC, Talia,”
he stated flatly, speaking in a low tone.

As if I needed that particular
reminder.

“
UNITED is big on rules and
has a very low tolerance for those who break them,” Frederick
continued. “They see things in black and white. You have lived your
whole life in a gray area. Hell, you
are
a gray area as far as the
council is concerned. More than a few members voted against you
becoming an agent, simply because you are Created. For them it’s
straightforward: You are Created and the Created belong in
containment. End of story. Those same people are just looking for
an excuse to lock you away. Don’t give it to them.”

I swallowed over the lump in my
throat. Frederick’s warnings struck a chord that Erik’s had
not.

This isn’t TOXIC,
Talia.

Evidently, I did need that reminder.
Or, more accurately, that explanation. Like Erik said, the hot seat
was nothing new for me. That was very true. During my tenure with
TOXIC, I was in trouble more often than not. But what Frederick
said was true, too. I had lived my whole life in a gray area. Rules
and protocols were more like strongly advised suggestions, meant
for others who were not me. Whenever I crossed a line, Mac was
there to redraw the boundaries. Consequence was an abstract idea
for which I never learned the true definition. For the first time
in my life, I was about to see how the other half lived. Suddenly,
I was not simply dreading this meeting, I was terrified to walk
through the door.

“
I didn’t mean to scare
you, Talia,” Frederick added in a gentler tone, sensing my mounting
fear. “I just want you to understand that this isn’t a game here. I
do think everything is going to work out in the end.”

His smile was nowhere near as
reassuring as he intended, and only succeeded in making my head
spin with all the possible outcomes.

Smoothing his wrinkled tuxedo
pants—he’d discarded the jacket and bowtie but still wore the white
dress shirt, black pants, and shiny shoes—Frederick squared his
shoulders and muttered to himself, “Time to face the
music.”

Catherine was still lingering by
conference room door, shuffling nervously from one high heel to the
other. She stepped aside to allow Frederick to pass by.

Erik reached for my hand. I let him
thread his fingers through mine, drawing much needed strength for
his touch.

“
We’re in this
together,”
he sent.
“Always together.”

Just as I was about to enter the room,
Catherine’s hand on my arm stopped me.

I met her gaze and raised my eyebrows
questioningly.

“
I’m sorry, Talia. I…I
didn’t…I’m sorry. I just want you to know that.”

With those solemn words, Catherine
turned and all but ran down the hallway.

As my fear grew even more potent, I
looked up into Erik’s turbulent turquoise eyes. All traces of his
earlier good humor were gone.

“
Ominous,”
I sent.

Unable to disagree, Erik simply
squeezed my hand and led me into the conference room.

Frederick was already seated to the
left of the head chair at the table. On the wallscreen, the UNITED
council was assembled around their own long, oval conference table,
with Victoria in the power seat. The majority of the members were
holographic, their physical bodies located somewhere besides the
Oceanic, Victoria’s current location.

Accepting my cue from a pointed glance
at the middle chair from Frederick, I took my place at the head of
our table. Erik sat on my right.

Behind us, a soft click signaled the
door shutting. I felt, rather than saw, the un-dynamic duo, Chaz
and Viktor, as they took up positions along the back wall. Under
the table, Erik rested his hand on my leg. The contact was
inappropriate, given the solemnity of the proceedings, but at that
moment I cared more about the warmth and reassurance his touch
provided than professionalism.

“
This is a disciplinary
hearing,” Victoria announced. “Thank you to my fellow
councilmembers for coming on such short notice.” She turned her
attention on the three of us sitting in her country home. “Agents
Lyons, Kraft, and Kelley, do you all know why you were called
here?” Victoria asked, her tone flat and gold eyes
expressionless.