Unknown 9 by Layton Green (e reader txt) 📗

felt to Andie like a mile, she saw the Rickshaw Obscura slow as it passed alongside her, and the door to the carriage hinged open.

New York City1977

A month after his return from Buenos Aires, Dr. Corwin shuffled down a Manhattan sidewalk, reprising his disguise from Cartagena: a filthy brown sweater, trousers with holes in the knees, and shoes whose bottoms flapped as he walked. He was hunched over, clutching a bottle of malt liquor in a brown paper bag, wearing a fake beard and matted dreadlocks, and suffering from a limp that was all too real.

Hidden in plain sight in his own city.

He shambled up Fifth Avenue and into Central Park, causing mothers to grip their children tighter when he crossed their path. Stumbling as if drunk, he cut straight through the grass and undergrowth before collapsing on a bench inside a peaceful grove of elms. The circle of massive trunks resembled the columns in a Greek temple.

Though nightfall was an hour away, the canopy of twisted limbs brought a premature darkness to the grove, as well as shielding it from view. Half an hour later, a female jogger wearing a green-and-white tracksuit and matching headband entered the ring of trees, dripping with sweat. Hands on her hips, she stopped to stretch, showing neither fear nor recognition when she glanced Dr. Corwin’s way.

He ached at the sight of her long bronze limbs and the lips always on the verge of a coy grin, slightly parted and knowing, the radiance of her full smile reserved for those rare private moments between the two of them. He longed to cup her face in his hands and kiss her, and shuddered at what he had to do.

“Don’t react, Ana,” he said. He was lying on his side on the bench, feigning sleep. “Keep stretching. You can talk, but keep your voice down.”

She froze. After a long moment, she moved closer and propped one leg next to him on the park bench, knee bent, stretching her hamstring. “What do you want?” she said coldly.

“I’m sorry. It was the only way.”

“The only way to do what? Break my heart? You won’t even return my calls.”

“The only way to save your life.”

Her stoic expression slipped a fraction. “What are you talking about?”

“I had to pretend I thought you’d betrayed me.”

“But why? Hans never asked me if you were going to Buenos Aires.”

“He could have. Even claiming you didn’t know looks suspicious from his standpoint. Why didn’t I tell you? Sooner or later, Hans was going to find out the truth. I couldn’t risk it any longer. I had to make him a believer and cut it off abruptly. You have to believe that.”

She was silent for a long time. “We could leave it all behind,” she said. “Run away together.”

“To where, Ana?” he said gently. “Where would we be safe?”

“Somewhere. We’re resourceful people. It’s not just about that, is it? You don’t want to leave. You’re choosing the Society over me.”

He knew there was some truth to her words. “It’s not that simple.”

“My God, I thought they were the fanatics.”

“I’m not a blind servant to the Society. It has flaws that need to be redressed, and I’m in a position to do that. I freely admit to putting my beliefs above both our lives and interests. But I can also say, Anastasia Kostos, that I love you.” He had never said those words to a woman, and it felt strange, like releasing a piece of his soul to her. “I love you like I’ve loved no other.”

A tear fell from her eye, making him feel guilty that he had chosen to confess at this time, in this way. Yet he couldn’t bear the thought of her going through life without knowing.

She wiped the tear away. “I can’t do it anymore, James. The Ascendants are on the wrong path. I know this now. My God, I’ve been so stupid.”

“Don’t,” he said gently. “We all make mistakes. We all can change.”

“Let me help. I’ve thought it over, and I’m ready to join you.”

“That makes me happier than you’ll ever know, but if you tried to join the Society, with your inside knowledge . . . the Ascendants would hunt you to the ends of the Earth.”

She dipped her head lower, and it took all of his willpower not to jump up and gather her in his arms. “Then what?” she said, in a near whisper.

“If you want to leave them, disappear. It’s the only way.”

“But we’d never see each other again,” she said. Her eyes slowly lifted to meet his. A look of infinite pain swept across her face, and he could tell in that instant that she loved him too. She looked as if she wanted to race out of the grove and never stop running, but instead she switched legs, stretching her other hamstring, and spoke in a strained but self-assured voice. “I’ll spy for you. For the Society.”

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I was going to suggest it before you went to . . . before I thought you’d left me.”

He shook his head. “If they caught you—”

“They’ll torture and kill me. Don’t say silly things. Both our lives will be at grave risk. They have been for years.”

It was his turn to whisper, not trusting his voice. “I can’t bear the thought of you in such danger.”

“You and I both know who will win this war if we don’t do something.”

Feeling as if he were trapped beneath a great weight, he allowed her to persuade him, and they agreed on a secure way to exchange information from afar.

“Even if we can never meet again,” she said softly, “we’ll be together in some way.”

When she left, Ana didn’t speak again or even look at him, but he saw the tears flowing down her cheeks. Another jogger passed through the grove, and Dr. Corwin buried his face in his hands, to hide his identity as well as his