Page 50 of Truth or Lie

TWENTY-TWO

Leona

THE FOLLOWING DAY broughtKam’s release from the hospital, along with the news reports I’d insisted we avoid overnight.

SUSPECTED TERRORIST ATTACK KILLS 23—DOZENS INJURED.

CHEMICAL WEAPON ATTACK DISRUPTS SUMMIT ON ALPHOMIC RIGHTS.

VIOLENCE HITS ALPHOMIC CONFERENCE—AGAIN. DISTURBING PATTERN EMERGES.

On the hotel room television, a BBC chat show nattered in the background as a man and a woman, both with smart suits and cut-glass vowels, lobbed speculation back and forth.

“At some point, Nigel, we have to start asking why these people are so intent on convincing us they’re not a threat, when this kind of violence seems to surround them constantly.”

“Now, Josie—that hardly seems fair when most of the victims in this attack were alphas and omegas. Yes, it’s true that several betas also died during the panic inside the auditorium, but analysts are saying those deaths were in the nature of collateral damage—they weren’t the real targets.”

“And how much ‘collateral damage’ are we as betas going to be expected to take, while this endless debate rages on and on, Nigel? I don’t see how we can be expected to...”

I tuned out the infuriating circular argument. Except for Kam, none of us had gotten much in the way of sleep over the course of the last day. Nikolayev and his network of Eastern European cronies were taking point when it came to the media, but sooner or later I’d be expected to release some kind of statement. The amount of makeup required to make me presentable for the camera was going to monumental, as was the self-control I’d need in order to produce anything more nuanced than the same stream of profanity-laced vitriol I’d unleashed on Levi Fairbanks.

At the time, he’d brushed me off with the practiced air of someone who got yelled at a lot in public venues. The thing was, I still felt like something had been off with him yesterday. It had been percolating away in the back of my mind as I dozed at Kam’s bedside in the hospital, and also today, as we readied for a meeting with Beckett in what I desperately hoped was a secure hotel room.

When he arrived, it was with the air of a hunting dog on the scent of prey.

“There’s news,” he said without preamble. “It’s significant.”

“Let me guess.” I couldn’t keep the sour note from my voice. “The summit has been put on hold indefinitely due to ongoing security concerns.”

“Rather the opposite,” Beckett replied. “Fairbanks has been lobbying the other leaders not to leave Luxembourg yet. He’s also requested a private meeting with you and Kostya.”

I stared at him for a long moment. “Excuse me?”

“You heard right. Tonight at seven p.m., his hotel, no press.” Beckett raised an eyebrow. “I would strongly suggest agreeing.”

“Well,” Kam said. “That’s certainly... unexpected.”

“Maybe you finally got his attention,” Jax said wryly.

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