The Survivors: Point of Origin (book 2)

Cold Heart/Warm Heart pt. 3

"Genealogical research," I smiled. Also close enough to the truth, I thought. I liked this. I liked that we were telling him things that weren't incriminating. It was warming him up by the second.

"Weird, but okay," he shrugged.

This whole time, Parker had been staring at Cole in a really odd way, something all three of us noticed and were trying to ignore for very different reasons. But suddenly, her eyes refocused, shook her head, and quickly—too quickly—she stood up.

We stared at her in confusion.

"I have to go," she said abruptly, and before we could ask any questions, she was headed for the lobby.

"You think she's okay?" Cole asked.

"Going to find out," Mark said, on his feet and behind her now. The way we were sitting, Cole was facing me and the rest of the bar, while I was facing the open doorway of the bar and into the lobby. I watched Parker get into an elevator and Mark catch it just in time to get in as well. A second later, Parker got out of it and headed for the streets of Manhattan, Mark on her heels. I caught Mark's eye. You stay, he said—pushing words outside his mental barrier the same way Everett did—and so I did.

"It's pretty unfortunate that you didn't get to go home," I said.

"I told you the day I met you that the city is wearing on me," he said. "I love the life I've made for myself. I'm proud of my accomplishments. But what am I doing here? So far from anyone I love."

"You want to go back?" I asked.

"It's not that. I just hate that I have to compromise. Success or my family. Freedom or my job," I explained.

Freedom. My word. "Do you ever feel trapped?" I asked.

"Every day," he said coolly. I related.

I pulled a move from his book. I leaned in very close to his face, and without even blinking, I whispered, "Tell me, Cole, what do you want most out of life?"

You, he thought. But he gazed back, those sapphire-shine eyes penetrating me and breathed, "Mortality."

"Touché," I laughed. "Seems like I don't have the monopoly on evasion."

He shrugged, happily. "You think this Everett guy is the one for you?"

"Only time will tell," I said. I realized, three tenths of a second too late that, I should have said 'Yes' in this instance, even if it were completely false. (It wasn't completely false.)

Cole smiled mischievously at this, cocked his pretty-boy head to the side, and eased, "Then it's a good thing I have all the time in the world."

My phone lit up. Everett Winter in big writing popped up on the screen. Fourth time that night—but first time it had been in Cole's line of sight. "Man, he's got good timing."

I ignored the call and texted him back: With Mark & Parker. Place is loud. Call later?

"I realize what I should have asked," Cole said, his mood having dipped a bit. "I should have asked if he thinks he's the one for you."

"Unequivocally," I said, finishing the text.

It lit up again. From Everett: I just talked to Mark. Damn. Caught. I texted back, stalling: What did he say?

"So where's the discrepancy? Why does he think one thing and you think another?" Cole asked.

"He believes in destiny. Takes things as a given. Takes me as a given," I said, surprised to hear myself say the words out loud when I'd known all along that that's what I thought.