Nightingale (The Sensitives) Part 7

The memory of my first solo-transport feels more distant than just a few hours ago. "I don't know. It was hard the first time."

"Try and if it doesn't work, you can piggyback with me."

I lick my lips and draw a deep breath. I may be inebriated, but I don't want to look like an idiot in front of my friends. "Don't laugh," I say to the group.

Maz holds up his hands. "Never."

Kyra shows me a picture on her wristlet. "This is the alley on Haight. I'll meet you there."

She blinks out, leaving Maz, Ryker, and I behind.

A plan forms slowly in my mind. Maybe we don't have to go anywhere at all. Maybe I can send Maz ahead and Ryker and I can talk alone for a few minutes? "Maz?" I say. "You next?"

He shakes his head. "I'm going last. Why don't you and Ryker go at the same time? Just in case something happens?"

My legs shake. "Okay." I don't move.

"Are you ready?" Ryker asks.

"Yes." Not really. If I can't do this on the first try, then what? Will Kyra have to come back to get me? How mortifying.

I picture the alley in my mind and step forward. To my surprise, everything goes black. My toe hits the ground and I wobble to gain my balance.

Next to me, Kyra shuffles her feet. "Not bad. But next time, try not to land so close. Personal s.p.a.ce and all."

"Sorry."

Maz and Ryker step out from the shadows. Even though he saw her minutes ago, Maz lifts Kyra so her feet dangle off the ground and kisses her on the lips. I turn my head. Open affection disturbs me. It feels wrong.

Ryker fidgets with the sleeves of his coat and walks closer to me. "Do you think they'll always be so nauseating?"

I laugh. "Probably."

"When I get my mate, I promise we'll never act like that." He jabs his thumb in Maz and Kyra's direction.

I pause and double check his wristlet. It's blue, not orange like a Singleton. "You don't have a mate?" By this time, everyone should be sorted out and paired off.

"When I switched houses, all the Dark witches had already been paired off." He shrugs. "Not that I mind. If Lena wasn't human, I'd want to be with her."

Well. Ryker is full of surprises today, isn't he? "You...loved her?" I say the word slowly. It's not something that rolls naturally off my tongue.

"I guess. I like her more than any other girl. I think about her all the time. But it doesn't matter. She's not for me." He tilts his head back and stares at the sky. "Besides, she's bound to someone else. Last week. Kyra told me."

Part of me wants to tell him that's why he should have followed the rules and not formed an attachment to her, but he sounds...sad. Ryker actually liked Lena. And he'll never be allowed to be with her because she's human.

"Laaark," Kyra singsongs. "Let's go."

I glance at Ryker. There are a million questions I want to fire at him about Beck and Lena. But with Kyra and Maz here, it isn't the time. There's a reason he waited until we were alone to say what he did.

We step out onto a bustling street. I'm not entirely sure where we are, having never ventured outside of the allowed areas.

People, who I think are mostly humans, pack the street. Music floats around us as Maz guides us toward the venue. The closer we get, the thicker the crowd grows.

Suddenly, worry nibbles at me. "What if someone recognizes me?"

Ryker and Maz exchange knowing glances before they burst out laughing.

"What?" I demand.

"We're counting on you to scare the h.e.l.l out of them to keep them quiet," Maz says. "Give them that b.i.t.c.hy look of yours. The one you threw at those diplomats on the train."

My mouth drops open. "What?" Apparently, I'm stuck on that word.

Kyra pats my hand. "No Dark witch will dare snitch on you. Not with the rumors floating around about your abilities. As for humans, Malin has little contact with them."

Great. So I terrify everyone.

But as we walk down the street, four across and wearing formalwear, I begin to think maybe it isn't such a bad problem after all. Most people do a double take and upon recognizing me, scurry away. Excitement builds in my chest. Maybe being famous isn't so bad after all.

Kyra stays at my side, quiet. She holds her finger against her wristlet and her eyes scan the crowd. Of course. She's in guard mode. We may be sneaking out, but if something happens to me...

"What's there?" I ask, pointing up the block to the where people stand at least six deep.

"Looks like a daily display of Sensitives," Ryker says. We've stopped before a slightly run down building.

My heart plummets at the mention of Sensitives. "It doesn't look the same as on the wallscreen."

Ryker shakes his head. "Do you think the State would broadcast this?" He motions to the crowded street around us. "I bet most of the ones we see are staged."

Even though he's probably right, my eyes grow wide. Am I the only person in the entire society who isn't cynical about the State?

Kyra and Maz slink through the blacked out front door of the building and I follow them. Music pulses through the confined, dark s.p.a.ce.

"Are they...like us?" I yell into my wristlet. I have no word for non-witch. Human doesn't sound right, since we're all human. Plus, I'm still not convinced our wristlets aren't being tracked or listened to.

Ryker's eyes glow slightly under the black lights. "Who?"

"The people being sentenced out there."

He gives me a funny look. "I don't know. Probably not. Most look like normal people."

I take a step back toward the door but Kyra holds her wristlet to her mouth. "Let it go, Lark."

But how can I? Those innocent people are accused of crimes and will be condemned to hard labor and lives away from their families. It's wrong.

And yet I know Kyra's right. The people want to see that the State is strong on this issue. It's the only way to protect the witches. Or is it? Everyone has told me the best way to stay safe is to hide in plain sight, but is it the truth?

The concert goers gyrate around me and sweaty bodies b.u.mp into me without an apology. I dodge swinging arms and force my way through the dimly lit club. The hem of my dress drags on the ground, and I lift it so no one steps on it.

It's not the most pleasant place, but for once, I'm anonymous. A wide grin stretches across my face. Never in my whole life have I been in public and not had people pay attention to me.

It's...odd.

A cheer rises from the crowd as a woman, wearing not much more than her orange wristlet and three strategically placed pieces of fabric, struts across the stage. Her shorn hair is so short that if I couldn't see the curve of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, I'd believe her to be a man. She throws something and the audience goes wild. The more they scream, the more feral she looks.

I hold my wristlet to my mouth and beam to Ryker's feed. "What is this place?

He places his wristlet to his ear before speaking into it. The words blast out of my wristlet. "It's an off-grid club. Our wristlets only work over the local feed. They scramble the State's signals."

Off-grid club? Scrambled feeds? I had no idea such things were even possible.

"Won't the Listeners get suspicious?" I ask.

I can't hear him laugh, but his eyes crinkle and he grins. "Not when they're paid off, they won't."

Jaw meets floor.

Music that sounds like trains colliding pours from every wristlet around us. I cover my ears to block the noise, but Kyra, Maz, and Ryker bob their heads to some unheard rhythm.

It's positively awful.

"Have a drink," a woman, no a man, in an yellow ruffled dress says as he hands me a tall gla.s.s. "It's called 'Power to the People' and we made it special for the show tonight."

Before I can ask him what's in it, he saunters away, handing out drinks to the next group.

Kyra darts out her hand and takes the gla.s.s from me. "Where did you get this?" she demands.

I point in the direction of the odd man, but he's been swallowed by the crowd. She sniffs it and shakes her head. "I have no idea what's in it."

"Try it," Ryker says. "It's not like anyone here knew Lark was coming or can really see her in this light. I doubt it's poisonous."

"They saw us come in." Kyra flashes him a look of disgust. "You try it."

Never one to back down from a challenge, Ryker takes the gla.s.s and begins to chug. The three of us watch him.

Ryker wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's fine. Just some rum and fizzy soda." He hands it back to me. "Try it."

I look to Kyra for approval. She shrugs, so I take a small sip. It tastes sweeter than champagne, but not sickly sweet. I take another sip before pa.s.sing it back to Ryker.

He sets the gla.s.s on a nearby table and grabs my hand. "C'mon, Lark. Let's dance.." As he spins me, I lose my balance and knock into the man next to me.

"Careful, now," the man says. A flash of red wristlet from beneath the edge of his s.h.i.+rtsleeve catches my attention and I jump back as he yanks at his sleeve.

Once I would have screamed for security. I would have let fear overwhelm me. I would have hated him. Now, all I see is a poor man, forced to live on the fringe of society all so that we witches can perpetuate a charade.

I glance at my friends but they're too busy ogling the barely dressed performer gyrating on the stage to notice the man and me.

When I look at him again, our eyes lock and I can't turn away. His skin is leathery brown, but he can't be much older than me. Maybe twenty-two, at the most. His cheeks have a gaunt, underfed look and his chapped lips are parted in surprise, as if he recognizes me. He looks like a Sensitive: mangy, dirty, wild.

And I look like Lark Greene. The privileged daughter of the woman who branded him Sensitive.

I am everything he should hate.

9.

The man doesn't break eye contact with me. His lips pucker and he raises an eyebrow. The noise in the club can't drown out the ten haunting notes as they pa.s.s his lips.

The Alouette.

The song of the Splinter group.

The man's lips twitch into a taunting smile.

Adrenaline rushes through my body, heightening my senses. Everywhere I look, flashes of red wristlets glow in the darkened room.

How could we-no, how could my friends be so stupid as to come here? They had to have known the clientele of the club. I should have known better.

Magic burns in my heart, begging to be released. It presses against my chest and I rock back on my feet.

I can't lash out here.

I can't- A ball of fire explodes near the stage. For a second, the crowd stands in stunned silence, but not me. My entire body trembles as another wave of magic builds inside me.

"Kyra," I scream. All three of my friends pivot toward me. Ryker, who is closest to me, throws his arms around my body, s.h.i.+elding me.

"Are you okay?" he says.

Kyra shoves between us. "Did you do that?"

I nod. "I don't know. There was a man. A Sensitive. He whistled the Alouette. And...and I couldn't stop it."

The crowd has now gone into panic mode, pus.h.i.+ng and shoving their way toward the exits. Black, acrid smoke fills the area around the stage.

"We have to get out of here." Kyra scans the crowd. "Ryker, stay right next to Lark. Do not leave her side. Do you understand?"