Six looked at him. "I did not."
The women got out of the car. Slow and easy, as graceful as wolves. Taller than Six, though just as lean. Hard eyes, thin mouths, street clothes that were plain and cheap.
"Ying," Six said to the woman on the left, who had a thin scar tracing the edge of her lip. She glanced right, to her companion, the prettier of the two. "Xiu."
"Six," they said in unison, and she could not help but feel a thread of unease pass through her heart. It startled her, that emotion; she could not understand it, not when she had known these women almost her entire life.
Six found herself edging in front of Joseph. "How did you find me?"
Xiu stopped. "Luck."
"Accident," Ying added.
"Of course, now that we've found you—" Xiu said.
"—we have some questions," Ying finished.
No, Six protested silently. Not yet. Time is running out.
But she said nothing, and listened to Joseph sigh.
* * *
Chapter 4
Joseph had never thought much about what it would mean to spend time in a Chinese prison, but now that he was actually in one, he really did not know what all the fuss was about. The cell might not be all that clean, but there was a toilet and a bed—albeit, without a mattress—and while the naked springs were rather tough on his spine, at least he was there alone and not in any danger of becoming a poor man's version of some Brokeback bitch. Although a drink would be nice.
He also wanted to see Six. He worried about her. It surprised him, just how much he worried. Out on the street, at the moment of their separation, he had felt inside her a terrible uncertainty. A lack of faith—not in him, but in the people she worked with. She was afraid of losing something, something no one else would understand, and that uneasiness had filled him, as well—though for a different reason entirely. He had, after all, been the one associating with a known terrorist flunky. That, and they had confiscated a very long dagger which no doubt carried the trace DNA of quite a few individuals. Which, frankly, meant that he might as well assume the firing squad position and start thinking about all the people his vital organs were going to save.
The lights had been turned off in his cell. There were no bars, just walls and a door inlaid with a narrow strip of wire-encased glass. Joseph did not mind the darkness. He lay on his springs with his hands behind his head, eyes closed, and searched the surrounding area with his mind. He found very little of interest. Mostly a keen desire to be home, with family; the occasional bout of despair; lust; in the other prisoners, ungodly fear and resignation.
He looked for Six. He thought about her eyes as he searched, the darkness of them, the hard warmth that had finally, at the end, begun to soften when she looked at him. He thought a smile might be next. Just one smile. He wanted to see that very badly.
This is not the time to be thinking about a woman you can never have. Six is not for you. Even if you want her to be.
But Joseph found her. He caught a hint of her spirit and pulled himself along the line of her heart. He tried to see through her eyes, but could not. Her mind was strong. He settled for listening to the edge of her thoughts, and sensed a defensive posture, anger and worry.
He could not help himself; he whispered her name. He did not expect her to notice his presence, but once again, her ability to perceive his mental voice surprised him. He felt her stillness, and then, quietly: I hear you.
Relief filled him. Are you okay?
I will be fine. You?
Still alive. No one has come to question me.
Soon, she said. I am being… reprimanded… for not bringing you in more quickly. They think it is suspicious.
What have you told them?
Only what I think they will believe. Which is very little. I
have tried not to implicate you in anything. Nor do they know who you are. Your lack of identification, or fingerprints in any file, has disconcerted them.
You know my name.
I pretended not to know.
That surprised him. Thank you. Can I ask why?
Six did not answer, but he picked up the tendril of a thought; one word: Believe.
Joseph heard footsteps clicking down the hall, and he split his focus, trying to identify who was coming and why. He discovered Xiu on the end of his thoughts, though it was hard to get a read on her mind. Like Six, her thoughts were slippery, hard to listen to for anything more than the most basic emotional impressions. In this case, determination, satisfaction, a hint of eagerness.
Great. He was about to get his ass handed to him.
Xiu is coming, he told Six. Any advice?
Xiu? She sounded genuinely surprised. She never handles prisoner questioning. She does not have the temper for it.
What do you mean, she doesn't have the temper for it? Six—