The Girl Who Dared to Think by Bella Forrest (best novels of all time TXT) 📗

Roark folded his arms over his chest as I ranted at him, his gaze turning angry and then distant as I talked. I finished my speech and waited for him to respond.

He nodded and returned my gaze, his expression speculative. “I have to say that you do impress me, Liana. Your argument was fairly flawless. Let’s hope this girl is as good as you claim with machines. We could really use a Cog, but, surprisingly, they are the one department with the highest job satisfaction. Go figure.”

I smiled and allowed myself a moment of relief. He was going to let Zoe join us—which meant I was going to get my friend back. “Zoe is even better with machines than I said. When can I bring her here?”

“I imagine you’ll want to do it as soon as possible, so let’s say tomorrow.”

“She normally has a shift in the morning, so I’ll bring her by early in the afternoon,” I said, quivering with excitement and starting a plan in my head about what I’d say to get her down here. I knew I still had to figure out what to do with Eric—no way Zoe was going to let us leave him behind when we finally left—but for now, she was my main concern. I’d figure out how to bring Eric in later. If he started to drop, then I’d bring it up, but hopefully we’d all be long gone before that ever happened.

“Good.” Roark turned back to his work, this time lifting two test tubes filled with colored liquid—one blue and one a bright green—and pouring them into a beaker. “So I assume after this, you’ll be ending your recruitment runs with Grey.”

I looked up at him sharply, my eyebrows pulling tight together as I frowned. “No. Why would you think that?”

He shrugged. “Well, you got what you wanted: medication for your friend. You don’t have any obligation to us, and if anything, we are in your debt. So I just assumed you would—”

“You really do not get me, Roark,” I said, too tired to be incensed. “I like helping Grey. It’s the first useful thing I’ve done in my life. We might be at a fifty percent success rate right now, but I don’t care. I want to help, and I have no intention of going anywhere. Also, don’t be surprised if Zoe wants to help as well.”

A warmth washed over his features that made my stomach do a flip, and I realized that he was both relieved and pleased to hear me say that. I suddenly realized that he didn’t like feeling isolated any more than I did, and that I had more in common with Roark and Grey than I did with my own family. Here, I felt wanted, needed, and appreciated. I belonged with these misfits, just like they belonged with me. Somehow, we’d found each other, and that made us all feel a little bit safer, and a little less alone. I needed it just as much as Grey and Roark did.

I opened my mouth to say something, then suddenly heard a rustling behind me. I saw Roark’s eyes go hard and flat, directed just over my shoulder, and he stood even as I began to turn.

“Liana,” said an all-too-familiar voice.

In the doorway, Gerome was brushing a bit of dust from the shoulder of his crimson uniform, his eyes sweeping over the little lab, lingering briefly on Roark, and then longer on Grey. He shook his head, expression cold and distant.

“Gerome,” I managed, my eyes on my mentor, taking in his cold eyes and rigid stance. “What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here? Am I late for our shift?” I wasn’t—it was only four.

“To hell with that,” Roark snarled. “You’re in my home, Knight.”

“The Knights go where there is a threat to the Tower, and no door can stop them,” Gerome responded smoothly, his eyes returning to me. “What are you doing here?”

I hesitated, and then hoisted my chin up. “Citizen Farmless was assaulted by a three today, and suffered burns. I came here to help him file a report.”

“Would this be Silvan Wash?”

Blinking in confusion, I looked away for a second, and then looked back up at him as a piece of the puzzle fell into place.

He’d been the one following me.

Gerome’s face might as well have been carved from stone as he stared at me. “Why are you here?” he repeated.

I stuck to the lie. “If you know his name, that means they found him and got him to the Medica. Citizen Farmless was telling me he acted in self-defense.”

“You’re taking the word of a four?”

I placed a hand on my hip. “Citizen Farmless is a nine, Gerome. His experience changed him, for the better.”

To emphasize my point, Grey weakly held up his wrist, and I realized that at some point he had woken up and figured out what was going on. Gerome hardly seemed to notice. He was still staring at the bottles of pills on the walls. “Changed for the better,” he repeated softly. “Blessed by Scipio. Is that really what is happening here?”

I frowned. Gerome had never doubted a person’s rank, not once, but the way he was talking was making my gut scream that he knew. It was impossible—he couldn’t hear through walls or doors, and I doubted he’d been able to hear us clearly while following at a discreet distance. Unless...

My eyes darted around, pausing when I saw the black plastic box at his side. A tensor: a high-tech listening device that read vibrations through the walls and translated them into noise. The equipment was dear to the department, and only the Knight Commanders were permitted use. As a Knight Commander, he was trusted enough to have one in his possession, and he had used it to listen in on us. Had been using it for a while, if I had to guess.

Gerome shifted his weight to one side, uniform creaking, and placed his