Wordless by AdriAnne Strickland Page A

truck—unsuccessfully, by the looks of it, with only one hand and foot at her disposal. I grabbed her before she could fall, lifting her the rest of the way down. She leaned unsteadily into me, which would have been nice if it didn’t make me look shady. At least her messy hair was shadowing her face and her gory hand was tucked behind her back.
    Chantelle raised her thin, penciled-in eyebrows. “She doesn’t look too good. She on something? Tav, I never thought you were one to take advantage—”
    “No!” I said quickly. “I, uh, found her on my morning route … in an alley. She’s hurt, see, but she didn’t want to go to a hospital. It’s, you know, a touchy situation, I think. I didn’t know where else to take her, since Drey didn’t want her at the garage.”
    Chantelle brightened. “Well, honey, you’ve brought her to the right place. I can see why Drey wouldn’t want to get mixed up in anything, but here, we’re all mixed up!” She patted Khaya’s arm. “There’s a cot in our little ‘office’ over there—no business ever done on it, of course, only napping. You’re more than welcome to it for as long as you like, and a cup of coffee. We’ll get you feeling better.”
    “Gods, thanks, Chantelle,” I said, while Khaya nodded weakly, keeping her head down.
    “ It’s nothing, sweetheart. I’ll go put some hot water on.” The clicking of her heels rebounded underneath the stone bridge as she strode away.
    “Perfect,” I whispered, guiding Khaya over to the wall to use as support. She could only hop on one foot. “You can stay here for a little bit. I need to go—”
    Her good hand tightened on my arm as she watched Chantelle’s retreating figure. “Don’t leave me here. I can’t stay—I need to leave the city!”
    “First, I need to take back the truck. Then we can figure out—”
    “You can’t go back to the Athenaeum,” she said, interrupting me again. “It’s too dangerous.”
    “No,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “It’s dangerous if I keep the truck. They’ll know I’m involved with all of this if I steal it! Maybe you don’t have to work, but I still need my job.” She shook her head but I ignored her. “You’ll be safe here. Later, we can figure out a way to get you out of the city, if that’s what you really want. Drey might know a way—”
    “You have to leave, too.”
    I felt like she’d slapped me. “What?” I asked, staring at her.
    Khaya didn’t have her usual aloof look as she sagged against the wall. Her eyes were wide, as if she was almost afraid to break the bad news. “You have to leave or they’ll kill you. They’ll find out you did this. There are cameras everywhere in the Athenaeum—too many to monitor constantly, but it’s only a matter of time before they locate the footage they need to identify you … if they haven’t already.”
    Of course they would have more cameras than the one at the alley gate. And how could I forget that Dr. Swanson was already watching me, suspecting me of a crime I hadn’t yet committed? Actually, I hadn’t forgotten. I’d been vigorously trying to forget.
    “They’ll come after you,” she added in a low voice. “Hunt you down, even in your home.”
    Home. The garage. Drey. The facts locked together in my head like nuts and bolts, constructing a thought that was pretty unpleasant.
    “Drey,” I said out loud.
    “I need … I don’t think I can do this on my own,” Khaya said, squeezing my arm tighter. “I’ve never been so weak. Whenever I accelerate the usual biological process to heal a living thing, it exhausts the one being healed. I’m exhausted. I’ve never been hurt this badly.”
    “Drey,” I said again.
    “Tavin, listen to me.” Not only did she say my name for the first time, she shook me. “Even if you won’t do it to save your own life, you have to help me get out of here. You don’t know how important it is for me to—”
    But I was gone before she could finish,