“Evidently, for some reason they believe the two of you are those girls, or can lead them to the girls, as I’ve already explained.”
“Then explain it again, Mr. Wyatt.” With her gaze locked on the eerie silver eyes of the director, she stared back at him confrontationally. “I’m sick of hearing about these two girls and all the reasons why all these ass**les think we can lead them to them. We don’t know them. We haven’t met them. And we sure as hell can’t help anyone find them. So tell me why the hell they keep coming after us?”
She’d had enough.
“If none of the above applies, Ms. Johnson, then I have no idea.”
“And you’re a liar,” she accused him roughly as she came to her feet, her gaze slipping to Wyatt’s wife, Rachel.
She noticed the other woman was not jumping instantly to her husband’s defense.
Let another woman call Stygian a liar and see how fast Liza could get up in their face.
Instead, Rachel Broen-Wyatt glanced at her husband with somber concern.
Wyatt’s brows arched with curious mockery. “And how would you know if I were lying?” he asked. “Unless you know something that you’re not revealing.”
Liza stared back at him, holding on to the sense of mist and memories that seemed determined to overtake her.
Not now. Not even a hint of self-doubt could be allowed to escape or every Breed here would be on her like a pack of wild animals.
“Stop with the games, Jonas.” It was Stygian, rather than her father, or Claire’s, who stepped from the side of the room.
Except Stygian.
He would stand between her and hell, she suddenly realized. A part of her could actually feel—feel him as though he were an integral part of her being—determined to protect her.
Liza felt his hand settle at the small of her back, a warm weight that pulled her back from the slight distance she’d managed to achieve without realizing it.
A distance she desperately needed right now. She had been deliberately receding from reality, hiding from the world or from whatever truths or knowledge she didn’t want to see until Stygian had come into her life. Now, she realized not just what a relief those retreats had been, but also how easy it would be to hide from any truth she might not want to accept. As well as the nightmares. Those hazy, terrifying dreams that had haunted her for so many years. The ones she never remembered, and hadn’t wanted to remember.
Had she always done this? Was it because she didn’t want it to be real? That she didn’t want to face what she was beginning to suspect was the truth?
“I don’t think I’m the one playing games.” Jonas sighed as the mockery eased from his expression, leaving a sort of weary acceptance. “And I don’t think your mate is either, Stygian. Whatever she knew has obviously either been stolen, or it’s a knowledge she’s unaware she even has.”
The look the director shot her father and Ray was telling. He believed they knew the truth, and Liza was certain they did.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Her father stepped forward, anger echoing in his tone even as Liza glimpsed a flash of guilt. “Do you think I wouldn’t know my own daughter? That I wouldn’t know if she had been replaced by another?” Heavy mockery filled his tone and marked his expression.
“Enough, Audi,” her mother protested as she laid a hand on his arm, her fingers trembling as she caught Liza’s gaze. “This is only upsetting Liza. Let’s see what we can do to help her, rather than upsetting her.”
The love she had always seen in her mother’s face was there. There was also all the love and acceptance she had always known. Her life, until now, had been charmed. Loving parents, an uneventful past, a good job.
She had everything but the husband, kids and white picket fence.
“Mr. Wyatt,” she said softly, never taking her gaze from her mother’s. “If I were who you and the Genetics Council wanted me to be, wouldn’t I know it?” She turned to the director, shaking her head at the solemn look on his face. “I wish I were Honor Roberts or Fawn Corrigan, and if I thought for a minute I could help your child, then I would. But I’ve grown tired of assuring you I’m not either of those girls, nor do I know them, know where they are, who they are, or what happened to them.”
Breathing in roughly, she turned to Stygian. “Could we go to whatever little box of a room he’s assigned us this time? It’s nearly midnight, I’m tired and I have to be at work in the morning.” She turned to Claire. “Claire, if you’re staying here at the hotel, then I’d like to talk to you at breakfast.”
“Claire won’t be staying,” Ray Martinez spoke up, his voice low and for the first time since they were teenagers, lacking any emotion when it came to her and Claire.
Liza turned to her friend slowly.
Claire’s head was down, her gaze hidden. Liza knew that look. She’d almost forgotten it. Seeing Claire so silent and still, her attention focused entirely on her hands, was a sight she hadn’t seen since before the accident.
For the briefest second, it wasn’t Claire she saw sitting there. The girl she saw was much younger, her hair several shades darker, her body just a bit stockier.
Blinking, the image receded, disappearing as quickly as the memories that tormented her.
“Mr. Martinez, your daughter will be safer here.” Command naturally hardened Jonas’s tone.
“She’s going with me.” Ray was at the point of belligerence.
Liza had to agree with Jonas for a change. If Gideon Cross was indeed in Window Rock and asking about her and Claire, then at least for the moment, the hotel was the safest place.
Liza turned to her father.
Her parents were silent, her father’s gaze apologetic while Ray and Maria Martinez stood stiff, unemotional.
“You could let her stay tonight,” she whispered to the Nation’s president. “Give the Breeds a chance to catch this Gideon Cross rather than giving him a chance to strike out at her.”
A heavy frown filled Ray’s expression then. “I didn’t ask for your advice.”
Liza knew that tone well. Ray was furious at the situation, and she feared that he would blame Claire, just as he did when she and Claire were children.
She turned back to her friend.
Claire was shaking her head, silently pleading with Liza not to begin a confrontation that would only result in additional trouble for her.