He gave me a dismissive incline of the head, a half-shrug. “Like I know any other way.”
I felt the tension bleed out of me in a half-laugh. I closed the distance to him in two steps and threw my arms around his neck and pulled close, taking care not to knock him off balance. For metas, with our super strength, this is a very real concern. I felt him reciprocate, his strong arms crossing my back, and I let out a little laugh that was halfway between a choked cry and a sob of joy. “I’m so glad to see you, Scott.”
“It’s only been a couple weeks,” he said as we pulled back from each other.
“I know,” I said, “but it feels like ... months.”
He nodded. “It’s been a long couple of weeks. Since ...” His face fell. “Since Kat. Since the Directorate.” He looked around. “Looks like it could be a lot longer. What false charge did they drum up to bring you in on?”
I felt my excitement at seeing him fade. “Murder.” He seemed to freeze, stuck in place, trying to control his surprise. “Clary, Parks, Kappler, Bastian.” I forced a fake smile. “So ... they didn’t have to do much making up in that department.”
“Geez,” he almost whispered and looked around his small cell. “Okay, wow. Well, that’s, um ...” He rested a hand on my shoulder and for some reason I felt great reassurance from it. “I take it they broke the news to you that you wouldn’t be seeing a lawyer anytime soon?”
I smiled. “I don’t think we’re gonna need one.”
He almost did a double take at me then did a slow nod of understanding. “You’re here because you cut a deal.”
“I’m here because they offered me a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card.”
He let a low sigh then jammed his hands in the pockets of his navy pullover, which was tight on his muscular frame. “There’s no such thing as a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card.”
I gave him a wan smile. “What, you’ve never played Monopoly?”
“You know what I mean, Sienna,” he said, and I could tell he was cross, getting more irritable by the moment. “They want something in exchange.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “but it’s something I was gonna do anyway, so I’m fine with the exchange rate on this one.”
He gave me a wary glance. “Really? You think the U.S. government is just going to let you skate on four murders because you run some errands for them?”
I let my head drift sideways as I looked up, pondering it. “When the errand involves beating Century to save the whole human race, I think it might justify my price.”
He frowned. “What’s Century?”
I felt myself pause, as if the gears in my head had seized up. How could he not know? “They’re the ones who are trying to wipe out metakind. Didn’t we talk about this last time we met?”
“I was drunk, right?” His face contorted into disbelief. “‘Metakind’? That’s a thing now? And Century? Really? That’s their name?” He forced a tight smile that showed me all his even, shiny front teeth. “Whatever. After that—assuming you pull it off, you think the government is just going to let you walk free?”
“What are my alternatives, Scott?” I said, letting a little bit of my exasperation show through. He could be such a difficult horse’s ass sometimes, and I wasn’t in the mood for having this discussion, especially since I was fully aware that now that they had their hooks in me, I might not ever pry them out again. “Spend the rest of my life in jail, waiting for Sovereign and his Gang of One Hundred to wipe us all out to the last meta?” I shrugged. “Wait for an opening to stage a jailbreak, then try and stop Century while simultaneously on the run?”
He sighed, a low, loud one. “Jailbreak then a flight to Bora Bora, I’d say.”
“That’s really helpful.”
He shrugged his arms expansively, and I caught a hint from his expression of just how in over our heads he thought we were. “I don’t know anything about this Century group—”
“They wiped out Omega,” I said. “Wiped them out to such a degree that I ended up in charge of what’s left.”
“What?” His face was scrunched, like he was trying to sort through what I’d just said. “You mean there’s nothing left of them, right?”
“No ...” I said.
Scott frowned. “You? In charge of them? Like ... were you elected or something?”
“By the survivors, yeah,” I said. “Not much group cohesion left. Janus and Kat are basically the only ones left alive from old Omega.” Scott’s lips puckered at the mention of Kat’s name. “Anyway, these guys, Century—run all you want, they will eventually find you, even in Bora Bora.” I bowed my head. “We’re being offered a chance to use our training to stop this threat. For me, it’s a chance to start over.” I felt a twinge of something—guilt, I was almost certain. “A clean slate.”