“Oh, but you did. You did arrest me. Eventually.”
Conn looked away. He nodded, and when he spoke, his tone was empty and official. “Tell the Society that you were burned when the IBI arrested you, and that you were imprisoned for at least two weeks. Then they’ll think that time healed your burns. You got these”—he pointed at the small cuts etched around my wrists—“when you escaped.”
He put another pair of firecuffs on me (yes, again!), swearing that they weren’t turned on; they were for show, so that the entire IBI force didn’t freak out at the sight of a free Shade strolling its halls. Then he led me through the IBI labyrinth until we reached an underground garage. He uncuffed me, unlocked a car with tinted windows, and then we were inside the car, up and out onto the street, driving along the lake.
“Where are we going?” I asked. A heavy fog cloaked the city, and all I could see was the road and the lake and the white sky.
“North. Closer to where the Society lives. Or that’s what we think, anyway.”
He outlined his master plan to get me inside Society headquarters. It seemed hopeless and dumb. I didn’t care. At least I’d be free.
“It’s quiet,” I interrupted.
“It’s Sunday. The streets are often empty on Sundays.”
“No, the car. The car is quiet.”
His face lit up. “That’s because it runs on internal magnetic energy. You really should have that technology in the Alter. It causes less wear on the transmission, there’s no messy oil…”
“Do you honestly think I care? I just found out I’m not human. I’ve got a few more things to care about than the transmission of a magnetic car.”
He shut up.
I gazed out the window at the lake and the boats rocking by the piers, their masts fuzzy in the fog, as if they were being slowly erased. The sky was heavy with weather. I felt like the giant cloud sagging over the city—full, full almost to bursting, because even though the last thing I wanted to do was chat with Conn, I also was dying to spill out a thousand questions.
I settled for the one that seemed most important. “Fitzgerald said you presented evidence that convinced her I didn’t know I was a Shade. What evidence?”
Conn took an exit and turned onto a small road. “From the beginning, you—you were complicated.”
“Complicated.”
“Mysterious. Shades don’t exist in the Alter, and one has never been seen on surveillance of the portals. You looked happy. Happy with a human.” He shook his head. “Impossible. And the name you signed wasn’t fake. We traced it to Lakebrook High within seconds. I thought you were taunting the IBI. Showing us how powerless humans are, how we couldn’t stop you from doing whatever you were there to do, even if we could easily track you down.” He paused. “But there is another interpretation: that you had nothing to hide.”
“And that convinced Fitzgerald.” I raised my brows. “An interpretation?”
“There’s also the way you reacted when I arrested you. The arrest … I didn’t—it didn’t go as planned. You broke your chains. I never thought you would do that. No rational Shade would—unless she didn’t know what firecuffs were.”
“Maybe I knew, and gambled. I could have bet that the cuffs were set to a low flame. Or maybe I wanted to go out in a kamikaze blaze of glory.”
The car slowed. “We considered those possibilities.”
“Then what proof did you have? I’m a monster. Why would Fitzgerald even think about letting me loose?”
Conn stopped the car. “It was your file.”
“My file?” I had the strong suspicion that I was going to have to kill him.
“Your DCFS file. I showed it to her.”
Psychological and medical evaluations. Report cards. IQ scores. Complaints from foster parents … even I didn’t know everything that was in my file. “You stole it,” I finally choked out. I felt as if Conn had seen me in nothing but my oldest, ugliest underwear. “When?” I demanded.
His hands fell from the steering wheel. “After we cut class and you told me about how your fingers had disappeared while you were drawing.”
“Why did you do that? Why?”
“I was confused.” He kept staring at the windshield. The weak light traced his profile, his crooked nose. He rubbed his eyes, and I found myself wondering when he had last slept. Then I wiped that thought from my mind. “It was obvious that you had no idea what happened,” he continued. “You seemed so innocent. I’m trained to look for deceit, Darcy, but when I met you I had to rethink everything. It was possible that my training meant nothing and that you could lie without the tics and tells humans have, but then why would a Shade share anything about her past with me? Why would you welcome my friendship? Or seem to. Why would you—?”
He stopped right there, and it was a good thing that he did. The memory of our kiss paced between us like a dangerous animal. Neither of us wanted to touch it.
Conn leaned back in his seat and winced. I had forgotten about his ribs. He stared out the windshield and didn’t speak.
When he finally did, his voice was crisp. “Don’t deviate from the plan. Remember that the most insidious thing about Shades is that they can be anywhere, anytime, unseen. They may already know you’re working for the IBI. Even if they don’t, they might come to suspect you.” He handed me a backpack. “Good luck. I’ll see you on Tuesday at 3:23 p.m., at the corner of Michigan Avenue and Van Buren Street.”
We’ll see about that, I thought. I opened the car door.
“There’s something else,” he said.
I looked at him. I didn’t know how much more “else” I could take.
“A photograph,” he said. “Of a little girl. I found it in the IBI database, before I left for the Alter. There’s no definite match, but she looks like you.”
“All Shades look alike. That’s what Fitzgerald said.”
He shook his head. “They have the same coloring, but there are differences. Believe me. She looks like you.”
“Then give it to me.” When he didn’t respond, I raised my voice. “Conn, I want that photograph.”
“I know you do. I’ll bring it with me to our meeting.”
For a moment, I held the door handle, shocked at how easily he had manipulated me. Again. That photograph was bait. Now I needed to see him again. I got out of the car, slammed the door shut, and walked away.