Secret of Betrayal: Book Two of The Destroyer Trilogy (31 page)

“You’re too good for the Guardians, too moral.
I’ve dealt with them my whole life. As soon as Milo’s mom told us about them, I
knew they would use Sihirs against me if they could. The only thing that’s held
them back so far is that they’re as scared of them as we are. It’s the only
reason the Guardians didn’t kill all the Ciphers as soon as they found out who
I was,” I say.

I feel bad that I never really tried to prepare
Braden for what might happen. I honestly thought he knew more than he
pretended, but didn’t want to admit he was a part of those kinds of dark
secrets. It isn’t a topic I enjoy discussing, but I need to now.

“I know the only reason they still don’t kill
all the Ciphers is because you have to sacrifice another human in order to kill
a Sihir, and being able to send them after someone in particular is very
unreliable. I think the only reason it worked on me was because Saia and I were
already pretty close. She knew my spirit, and even as a Sihir she could have
tracked me down right away. Without being able to do that on a regular basis,
they have to sacrifice innocent victims. They have no problem doing it, but
finding the right one to sacrifice probably isn’t easy.”

Braden sits down next to me. I can feel the hurt
he’s experiencing as well. It eats away at me and I know it must be ten times
worse for him. Knowing that the group you once dedicated your life to
is
misguided in their tactics is something completely
different from finding out they are willingly murdering not only their
prisoners but innocent victims as well.

“That’s not true,” he says. His pain suddenly
starts to recede and is replaced by confusion.

“What’s not true?”

He pulls away enough to really look at me. “You
didn’t have to sacrifice anyone to kill Saia’s Sihir. You destroyed her spirit.
That’s not supposed to be possible, not a spirit like that, not one that isn’t
connected to a body. You shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“I almost didn’t, remember?” I look down at my
shoes. Talking about Saia and thinking about how close I came to dying today
steals what’s left of my strength and resistance. My head drops against his
shoulder and I soak up the peace being this close to him brings me. “Braden, if
you hadn’t been there, I probably would have been dead, too.”

Braden slips his arm around my shoulder. “I may
have exaggerated a little when I said that. I definitely protected you from
getting hurt when I shielded you, but you probably would have survived without
it. My shield isn’t that powerful. You’re so much stronger than I realize most
of the time. If you could pull your spirit out and hold in it the physical
world—something no one else has ever been able to do before—and do what you did
to the Sihir, you could have survived the blast.”

“Still,” I say, not all that comfortable with
this topic, “it’s not like I want to try it again just to see if you’re right.”

“No, never again,” Braden demands, “but it makes
me wonder what else you can do. How many other impossible things can Libby
Sparks accomplish?”

His words strike a sensitive nerve in me. I turn
to his embrace and bury my face in his jacket as I remember what my dad
attempted to do. Performing a Serqet is supposed to be impossible, too. No one
has ever been able to steal another person’s talents. Would my dad have been
the first if I hadn’t interrupted him? If he had, would it have been because of
his power or mine? The memory of the horrible pain I went through the night he
died makes me hope I will never find the answer.

“Braden,” I ask, “
what
do you really know about me?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, even though I think
he knows.

I pull away and look him straight in the eye.
“You’re a Guardian, Braden. You said you knew about my destiny. The Guardians
have to have some kind of idea about what I’m going to do if they plan on
stopping me. What have you been told about me?”

Braden’s whole body takes on a nervous posture.
He looks away. “This isn’t something I can talk about with you right now.”

“I thought you said I could trust you.”

“You can, Libby,” he says as he looks at me
again.

“Then tell me what you know. Why would you want
to keep it from me? You get mad at me when I put myself at risk like I did
today, but you’re doing the same thing by hiding what you know.” I don’t want
to attack him for this, but I’m not willing to wait anymore.

Looking down, he pretends to be interested in
the thread count of his jeans. He doesn’t look up when he says, “I can’t tell
you, Libby. I want to, but I
can’t
.”

The emphasis he puts on the last word is a hint,
something to remind me of what I already know. “You swore a Guardian promise,
didn’t you?”

“The Guardians don’t demand your Oath, but they do
demand this. The first day I was recruited, they laid everything out and said I
wouldn’t be accepted unless I promised not to reveal anything I had just heard
to anyone outside the Guardians,” he says.

“Does anyone ever refuse?” I ask.

“If they do, I doubt they leave that room
alive.”

I shudder at the thought of young men and women
being slaughtered simply because they don’t want to be responsible for such
heavy secrets. “How much do you know, Braden?”

“Not everything, but enough to matter, I think. And
some conjecture, for what it’s worth. It’s going to take another impossible
feat to get me to tell you any of it, though.”

Impossible feat, huh?
My mother said those exact same words to me once. I had completely forgotten
about that, it was so long ago. My lips turn up in a smile, making Braden frown
even deeper. I’m not sure it will work. The two tactics aren’t exactly the
same, but I think they might be similar enough to warrant an attempt. My mom
used her Naturalism to trap my foot inside her marble floor a few months ago.
That led to my breaking my ankle, but I’ve learned her trick, and many others
like it, and will be ready to use it against my enemies when they come after
me. Now she has given me another tidbit I can use without her even knowing she’s
done so. If Hell freezes over and I actually find myself speaking to her again,
I’ll have to thank her. If this actually works, that is.

Braden is starting to get concerned. I brush off
his worry and say, “Come inside with me. I want to try something.”

He follows me slowly. “Is this going to be
anything like what you did today?”

“No.” I hope not. Nothing bad happened the first
time I did this. I open my door and let Braden in. He stands in the middle of
the room unsure of what to do.

I really wish I had a couch. I’m stuck directing
him to the bed. Kicking off my shoes, I sit on the rumpled comforter and wait
for him to join me. Even without looking up, I can feel him step back from the
bed. He’d be more than happy to join me here for other reasons. His reluctance
right now really annoys me. It’s been too long of a day.

“What? Now you don’t trust me?” I demand.

“I’m just … concerned.”

“Because of today?
Braden, I’m not going to hurt you.” I’ll stop if there’s any hint of harming
him. It should work.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Braden
says, “Not just because of today. I’ve seen you do some amazing things. I know
you’re powerful. I also know that you don’t always understand what you’re doing
with that power.”

“That’s hardly fair. Just because I struggle
with Spiritualism doesn’t mean I’m as flaky with my other talents. I’ve spent
years practicing this stuff. Sure, I don’t know everything, but there are
things I do know very well.” Granted, I’ve only ever done this once before, but
I really need to know what he knows.

It actually hurts a little to see him doubt me.
I was desperate today. I had to do what I did. I want to find out his secrets,
but not at the price of hurting him. At one time that would have been worth the
risk, but not anymore. Finally, Braden sits down on the bed across from me.
“What do you want to do?”

“Did you know that Concealers can bind someone
to the truth?” I ask. Braden raises one eyebrow in question. “It’s not quite
the same as what Guardians do when they promise on their emblem, but it’s
similar. The strength of the binding depends on the Concealers’ power. It can
fade after a while if it’s not strong enough, or if the Concealer wants it to
go away. Reporters use it a lot to get the information they want out of sources,
although I don’t think any of them would actually admit it.”

“I know the reporters were on your tail for a
while, but …”

I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t the reporters I
learned this from. It was my mom. She tried to bind me to tell her the truth
once. I can’t even remember what I’d done, but I refused to speak to her after
she put the binding on. She sent me to my room, which was a huge mistake. All
she did was
give
me time to figure out how to get rid
of the binding.”

“And I’m guessing you did?” Braden asks.

“Of course,” I say. I can’t help laughing at the
memory. “After I dissolved her binding, I came back down and said I was ready
to tell her what happened. I lied, but she believed every word.”

“How old were you?”

“Nine.”

Braden shakes his head. I’ve never met an adult
who’s actually admitted knowing how to wiggle out from under a Concealers’
binding. I don’t know whether I’m the only person capable of doing it or not,
but I’d guess I was the only nine-year-old who could.

The feel of Braden’s hands slipping into mine
makes me slightly woozy with my defenses as frail as they already are. Or maybe
I just don’t want to resist him as badly as I once did. I refuse to figure out
which one it is. “Well,” he says, making me refocus, “at least you’ve done
something similar to this before. That makes me feel better.”

“Gee, thanks.”

At least he’s willing to let me try. I had to
work to convince Milo to let me try performing a second Inquest on him too.
Getting rid of my mom’s attempt at controlling me required a heavy dose of my
own Concealment talent. I had to locate the binding locked around the memory of
what I was being questioned about and systematically tear it down. Concealment
is all about finding and revealing. My mom tried to use hers to find out the
truth behind what I was telling her, but I used it to find the restriction she
had put on me and restore the true balance in my mind. I don’t see why I can’t
do something similar with Braden.

Tapping my Perception and Concealment both, I
take a deep breath and begin by placing my hands on either side of Braden’s
face. Concealment works with Perception’s ability to connect with the mind and
helps me search for the barrier keeping Braden from telling me his secrets. The
fact that every inch of Braden’s being feels intimately familiar to me makes
finding the barrier quite easy. Lodged deep in the memory center of his mind is
the information I desperately need.

“How are you doing, Braden?” I ask quietly. My
voice sounds distant and willowy. So does his.

“I feel fine. Did you find the promise?”

“Yes.” That was the easy part. The next step
isn’t going to be so simple. Already I can sense the differences in this and
what my mother did to me. Hers was put there by force, dependent on her
maintaining the compulsion. Braden made his promise voluntarily. The strength
of the barrier lies within him. Unfortunately, his simply deciding he no longer
wants to keep the promise won’t lessen the barrier. The commitment he had when
he made the promise is irrevocable.

“Braden, I’m going to try to get around the
promise now. If you start to feel any kind of pain, if anything doesn’t feel
right, let me know right away, okay? No macho heroics on this. I don’t want to
hurt you.”

“Macho heroics?” he laughs. “Who do you think
you’re talking to, Lance or Milo?”

My smile almost breaks into a laugh. “Whatever.
All you Guardians are the same.
Fast cars, big egos, hero
complexes.
I know the type.”

“Fast cars, definitely.
I don’t know about the other two.”

“Ha. Be quiet. You’re making me lose my focus.”
Really, I just don’t want to admit that he’s right. Yes, he is adamant that we
should be together, but I don’t think that has much to do with ego. And even if
he does have a hero complex, I’m frequently in need of a hero. And he makes a
yummy hero. Memories of Braden without his shirt on send shivers down my spine.

“Are you cold?” Braden asks.

The image of his sculpted body and sinuous
movements flies out of my mind. “Nope,” I say quickly.

Back to work.

Concealment helped me find the promise, but I
can tell right away it won’t do anything to break this kind of barrier. Now
it’s mainly up to Perception. I attack it as I would a lie, searching it for
distortions and abnormalities. Knowing truth from lies has become second nature
to me. It’s been a while since I’ve had to work this hard, though. The minutes
draw on for quite a while before I finally find what I’m looking for. The
barrier is wrapped around the memory—not physically, of course, but tangible
enough that I can sense it. Furthest from the outer surface there is a dimple,
a weakness. With a lie, I would simply start unraveling from that point. I know
at once that the same tactic won’t work here. Lies feel more like webs spun
over the truth. This feels like a solid encasing, like a glass bubble.

My only chance is to get in through the weak
spot. Thinning my Perception as much as possible, I start to probe. Braden
shows no reaction at first. Only when I feel my talent finally pierce the
surface does he
flinch
. I barely scratched the
promise. There’s still a ways to go before I’ll reach the memory. I push a
little harder. Braden squirms, but it’s barely noticeable this time. He doesn’t
ask me to stop, so I keep going. Bit by bit, I wriggle my way through the
barrier. Every other thought and sensation falls away as I spend all my effort
to break through. When I finally push past the promise, my body shudders in
relief. Immediately, I am swallowed up by a rush of images and emotions.