The Gender Game 5: The Gender Fall(44)

I decided to test my theory. I took another sip of my soup, and then looked at Owen. He’d been strangely quiet since I arrived. “So, Dr. Tierney’s here. Does that mean…”

“That we heroically flew to The Green, managed to convince the Liberators that Desmond is pure evil, and then got them to lend us equipment, their doctor, and a few men? All while you were lazing about and taking a nap?” I smiled at Owen’s joke, fighting back a laugh as he struck a heroic pose and then flipped imaginary hair over his shoulder. It was infectious, and even Amber and Thomas laughed. Viggo shot him an incredulous look, and I let out a soft chuckle at his obvious annoyance.

“That was a mouthful,” I said, “but that’s awesome. How did you manage to convince them?”

Amber’s voice was soft and filled with reverence and a touch of awe as she answered, “We showed them your tape.”

“Oh.” Right. Dr. Tierney had told me that. Once again, I was struck with discomfort, which deepened as I saw the looks of appreciation that seemed to be radiating off of everyone as they looked at me. Even Thomas had a touch of it, which was saying something, because I didn’t think the man was capable of hero worship—besides his admiration of Owen, of course.

I cleared my throat and took another sip of broth, my eyes darting to Viggo. His hands were balled into fists now, and I could see the disapproval in his face. It was evidence, but not very damning. I needed to push harder to confirm my suspicions.

“So,” I asked, “what lies is Elena spinning to contain the mess at the palace? Do you have any ticker tapes I could read later?”

Thomas leaned forward, his chair squeaking slightly as he moved. “Well, the tickers went down after the explosion, and honestly, I don’t think they are coming back.”

I frowned and looked around. “So we’re flying blind?”

“No, not exactly,” replied Owen. “Ms. Dale sent Jeff to the city to try to figure out how Elena is spreading news. She figured if Elena wanted to maintain control over the people, she had to be getting the news out somehow. Otherwise there would’ve been chaos and rioting in the streets, and he said it was actually pretty orderly out there.”

I nodded as I sipped at my soup, but paid careful attention to Viggo. His expression was downright thunderous, and I masked my smile, knowing he was close to detonating. It was what I was waiting for, honestly—if he didn’t, well, then I would know my hypothesis was wrong, and he wasn’t being overprotective of me.

I was confident I wasn’t wrong, however. I continued, “So, what did Jeff find? Was Ms. Dale right?”

Thomas nodded emphatically, his lips pulling back in a smile. “Yes, she was. Elena is getting her information out through public forums at sporting arenas and parks all over the city. In fact, one of them is the stadium where Mr. Croft once fought, which presents a unique opportunity to—”

He was cut off by Viggo’s low growl. “I think this all might be a bit too much excitement for Violet to be handling right now,” he said tersely.

Thomas came to a stuttering halt in his news report, and I watched as everyone looked at Viggo. Tension in the room formed suddenly, like a rubber band being stretched, and I felt it threatening to snap.

But I maintained an air of confidence, as though Viggo’s outburst hadn’t fazed me in the slightest. I took another sip of the soup and then put my spoon down, the broth finished. I picked up a napkin and took my time wiping my mouth with it, before turning to Viggo.

“That’s very considerate of you, Viggo, but I’m feeling much better now, and I would like to be involved in whatever’s going on. I may be injured, but I am not incapable of helping.”

Then I leaned back and waited.





16





Viggo





Everyone was stone quiet as Violet made her little declaration. I could tell they were waiting for my response, but, for the moment… I didn’t have one.

Of course I was happy to see her up and moving again. It had filled my heart with joy to see her standing on her two own feet. Not to mention my relief to see her talking lucidly, without the persistent confusion followed by horrible panic. She was conscious, active, and appeared to be on the mend.

She was also being stubborn, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to wind up hurting herself more instead of healing. I drummed my fingers on the arm of my chair and realized the conversation was starting to pick up again, noting the soft whispers Owen and Violet were exchanging.

That exchange irritated me even more. Owen should have known better than to let her go on with this. He had been at the palace with me. He had seen her hurt and bleeding! She didn’t need to be talking strategy—she needed to be in her bed, resting, even if I had to carry her there. I couldn’t help but savor such a tempting thought. In fact…