False Hearts (False Hearts #1)

We’re silent as the hovercar takes us to my apartment. Not the safe house. My real, actual apartment, where I haven’t been since they asked me to become my sister. My fingers trace my features. My nose is back to its usual shape, my cheekbones a little lower, my cheeks a little fuller. My hair is still short, but it’s curly again and no longer blue. Even my old face in the mirror doesn’t look familiar anymore.

I look out the window at San Francisco. It’s foggy today, making everything look soft and dreamy. The algae tinges the gray with green. It reminds me of the world in Ensi’s head, and I look away.

Nazarin helps me up to the flat. He seems to have recovered much quicker than I have, though he wasn’t shot in the chest, so I suppose that makes sense.

I collapse on my sofa. It feels like I haven’t been here in so long. A different person has come home than the one who left. It’s going to take a long time for me to make sense of what happened in my head. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to fully trust my own mind again.

“Give me some SynthGin, will you? It’s in the cupboard to the left of the fridge.”

He dutifully pours two glasses and comes to sit next to me on the sofa.

“Fill me in,” I say.

Nazarin’s voice is soothing. I take a long gulp of gin and close my eyes, listening. Ensi’s body is still alive, but he’s brain-dead. The government plans to put his body into stasis all the same. The Ratel has crumbled somewhat at the loss of its King and Queen. The government is breaking up the rest.

“They’ll find Verve,” I say.

“Yes, though Sudice is arguing that Veli Carrera began his research in their labs, and is trying to patent it. We’ve one saving grace, though: they’re not exactly sure how to re-create it. It seems only Ensi knew the recipe.”

“How?”

“It’s what the drop was. Mana-ma grew a mushroom at the Hearth. I expect it’s the same ingredient she used to dose you before Meditation. She processed it as much as she could there, and Ensi personally put the final touches on it once it arrived in the city.”

I sigh. “It’s only a matter of time before they figure out how it works.” I’m not sure if I’m talking about Sudice or the government. Does it make a difference? “Have we really helped anything?” If Verve goes to market, the violent after-urges removed, it remains a way to make people more tractable.

“It won’t be that easy for them. Someone might have leaked a medical report detailing the true effects of Verve to the entire city.”

“Kim?”

He only smiles in response.

So things are not fixed. It is not a happily ever after. We can hope the Ratel stays scattered, and there’s a glimmer of hope that Verve won’t be released to the city from another’s hands. A glimmer of hope. That’s all.

“I suppose that’s enough for now,” I manage. “What’s next for you, then, now that your undercover op is finished?”

“I’ve asked for a leave of absence.”

I manage a smile. “A well-deserved break.”

He sighs. “I don’t know if I want to go back.”

I understand. At the moment, I can’t imagine going back to engineering. I feel too shattered to be a functioning cog in society.

I drain my glass and look down at the bandages beneath the collar of my shirt.

“I haven’t seen the full extent of the damage yet,” I say.

I begin to unbutton my shirt. Nazarin stands up. “Do you want me to go?”

“No. Stay.”

I slide the dress off of my shoulders. I suck in a breath, looking at the fractal marks from being struck by phantom lightning in the dream world. The red has already faded to white, stark against the brown of my skin. It shouldn’t be there, but it is. My mind thought it was hit by lightning, and the body obliged.

“They can erase it,” Nazarin says.

“I don’t want them to.” It’s beautiful, in its own way. And it’ll always remind me that I was strong when I needed to be.

He stands again, moving closer. He raises a finger, hovers it over my skin. I meet his eyes and his fingers rest, lightly, on the fractal marks. He traces the swirling branches of the scars.

“It’s like trees. Or blood vessels. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I don’t reply. His touch makes me feel grounded and alive. It cuts through the dregs of the pain medicine. My whole body tingles.

I start to unwind the bandages across my chest. I’m afraid to see what’s underneath. The last of the bandages fall away. Nazarin and I both look down. Between my bare breasts is a new scar, just to the left of the one that bisects me from collarbone to navel. It’s healed cleanly. It looks a little like a star.

Nazarin presses the scar gently with his fingertip. “Will you keep this, too?”

“Yes.”

I look up at him. His eyes are soft.

I want to ask him, but I’m not sure how. “Is Tila—?”

“No. Only you.”

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