Awake (Book 3)

Twenty

A conversation. With her. Words. Was I supposed to speak?

            My brain was scrambled and unable to string together coherent thoughts.

            Still on my knees, trying not to heave, I stared with wide eyes at this aged woman, unsure where to even begin. An explanation. She should start there, maybe. Or offer some solidity to my vague, grainy memories.

            "Sit down, Ellie," she suggested, gesturing to the couch. Some man at the door started toward me, but August vaulted off the couch and beat him to it. I resisted at first but soon relented, allowing him to pull me up and over to the seat. My eyes refused to look anywhere else but at the woman. My spine stiffened, ramrod straight, infinitely uncomfortable, and the worst sick feeling permeated through me.

            "You look well, Ellie," she continued, walking forward. "Besides the stab wound, of course, which I must apologize for. I did not configure any Bounty Hunters crashing the party."

            She did not configure . . .

            Set-up.

            Anger boiled my blood.

            It was all a freaking set-up.

            "The event was your idea?" I croaked, disbelief marring my words, and probably my face, too. "You-you planned for me to show up?"

            The woman gazed toward me with indifferent eyes, unfeeling, perfectly neutral in every way. And it was horrible. Empathy was a crucial ingredient in this situation, and she seemed to possess none.

            "You are here; we have you. That is all that matters."

            "That's not all that matters. I was stabbed. I could have died. You set me up, and I don't evenknowwho you are."

            "Elizabeth Green," she voiced, hands clasped tightly behind her back. "Call me Liz."

            Call me Liz. Like we were friends; old buddies. Like we were close.

            My entire body began caving in on itself again, like it tended to do when under massive amounts of abrupt stress. My abdomen clenched, eliciting fiery pain from the wound site. My jaw and knees and elbows locked. My fists shook violently. Everything switched to total lockdown; pure survival mode.

            Liz failed to understand what was happening to me, but August had a better idea.

            "Don't talk to her for a minute," he said to Liz, while his large hand covered my own and he got to work trying to pry it open. "Talk to me."

            She seemed confused and uncomfortable with this, but nodded anyway. Must have been on a short timetable. "Very well. I was ordered to collect Ellie in light of recent, pressing events. She is to be given full clearance."

            August managed to unfurl my fist, slipping his fingers through the cracks between mine, and I held on with a bone-cracking grip. "I receive full clearance in any situation that involves my participation. I know every little detail and can read any case file that arises. In other situations its complete allowance of whatever techniques I need to use to ascertain appropriate information. What kind of full clearance are you talking about, here?"

            My heartbeat slowed, body gradually relaxing. I squeezed August's hand in silent thanks, but didn't let go. "The truth," Liz replied. "The untainted, uncorrupted truth."