“I’m fine,” she spat, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, something more than just the fact that he was here.
“I thought they found you.” His words were low. He reached forward to take her arm, but caught himself and aborted the motion halfway through. “We need to go.”
Claire didn’t move.
“Now,” Nix said, his voice rough, every muscle in his body tensed as his eyes scanned the crowd.
Claire wanted to fight him, to keep herself from getting sucked back under the force of this thing between them. He was a Nobody. She was a Nobody. That didn’t have to mean anything. It didn’t mean anything—but for the first time, she took in his appearance, the look in his eyes.
If there was one thing Claire knew like the back of her own hand, it was the edge of the abyss, and Nix was wearing darkness like sunscreen. SPF 70, slathered thick. He held a stack of folders in one hand, his knuckles white with the force of his grip.
He was bleeding.
She lifted her left hand to his shoulder. Unlike him, she didn’t pull back. And once her skin touched his—she didn’t want to.
Either Ione had been bluffing and The Society didn’t know where Claire was, or Nix had beat them here. Her fingertips grazed the wound on his shoulder. He sucked in a breath.
“You’re hurt,” Claire said.
“So are you.”
There were scratches on her arms and legs, and she held a knife in a death grip in her right hand.
“We need to get out of here,” Nix said. He turned to leave, walking away from her touch. She didn’t follow.
Ione’s words echoed in his mind. She’ll never love you. You are what you are.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Claire’s voice shook, but she may as well have carved the words into his chest with her knife.
“They’re looking for you,” he said, lowly. “They’ll hurt you.”
“They won’t find me,” Claire countered. “Isn’t that what you said? We’re unnoticeable? Two Nobodies can have a fight on a street in a strange town, and people will just brush on by.”
Nix had forgotten that they weren’t alone, that there was anyone else on this sidewalk but her. His gaze darted from one person to the next: assessing them, looking for a tell that any of them were more than what they seemed.
“Claire—”
She took a step forward, until the two of them were dangerously close. “You left me.”
“I had to go back.”
Nix hadn’t meant to tell her where he’d gone. He didn’t want to explain the files in his hands, didn’t want her to see firsthand evidence of the things that he’d done.
You are what you are. A killer.
“Back to The Society?” The anger drained out of Claire’s voice. Her face softened, and silently, Nix begged her not to look at him that way. Like she could fix him.
She’ll never understand. How could she?
“I went to the institute,” he said. “The building where I—”
Nix couldn’t say grew up, and he couldn’t say lived. He’d never felt as inhuman as he did in that moment, trying to explain his life to Claire.
“—where they kept me.” Nix could feel the memories hovering at the edge of his mind, and he prayed they’d stay there. He didn’t want Claire to see him like that. He didn’t want to risk the chance that, caught up in the throes of a flashback, he might lose control and hurt her.
“The institute is The Society’s headquarters.” Nix concentrated on facts over feelings, keeping the past at bay. “From the outside, it looks like a mansion, but the inside is state-of-the-art. There are laboratories dedicated to studying energy and metaphysical abnormalities. Libraries for keeping The Society’s histories. Training facilities for Sensors, so the ones who’ve been inducted into The Society can learn to use their powers.”
Training centers for Nobodies, so they can learn to kill.
“And you went back.” Claire was stuck on that one point, and Nix wondered where she’d thought he’d gone when she woke up that morning and he wasn’t there. “Why would you go back there?”
Nix’s gaze went involuntarily to the folders in his hand.
“What are those?” Claire asked.
Nix wasn’t used to masking his thoughts. Clearly, he needed to be more careful around her.
“I mean, obviously, those are folders, but what’s in them?”
You are what you are.
You’re a killer.
“It’s none of your business, Claire.” Nix gritted his teeth, his words sharp as fangs. “It doesn’t matter why I went back. It doesn’t matter what’s in these folders. All that matters is that The Society is still looking for you. You need to go back to the cabin.”
“I already told you that I’m not going anywhere with you. Not until you explain.”
Nix reached for her, and this time, he allowed himself to complete the action. His hand closed lightly over her arm. “I can’t protect you here.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be protected.” Her voice was softer now. He had to lean forward to hear it.
Shouldn’t lean forward.
“I need,” he said, the words sticking in his throat. “I need you to be safe. It’s not safe here. Please, Claire.”
“Tell me what’s in the folders, and I’ll go with you.”
She asked for the one thing he didn’t want to give her. He let go of her arm.
“You want to know what’s in these folders?” It was either tell her or touch her—and he couldn’t let himself travel back down that road. “I stole the files from Ione, the current head of The Society. They detail the people I killed. The Nulls.”
A week ago, he wouldn’t have referred to Nulls as people. But now—
“Do I have a folder?” Claire’s question cut off that train of thought.
“Ione gave me a dossier before she sent me after you, but it didn’t say anything about why The Society wants you dead. It just said that you were dangerous.”
Claire’s gaze traveled back down to the folders in his hand. “But you think there might be answers in there.”
She read him too easily, too well.
“I’m the one they want to kill,” Claire said. “I have a right to know.”
Nix wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. She had a right to know—what he was capable of, what he was.