Nightingale Read Online Free Page B

silently.
    She shrugs. I don’t know.
    I believe her. Whenever Kyra lies, a faint pink tint colors her chest and neck. Right now, she looks normal.
    I sigh. If Kyra doesn’t know, who else can I ask? Not Annalise or my two male guards. A healer wouldn’t dare. The servants never come in my room without Mother being here. Not that they’d know anyway.
    Kyra’s wristlet pings and the color drains from her face. Unlike my other guards, she doesn’t have a microchip embedded behind her ear for incoming private pings since she’s technically not a States person yet.
    “What?” I ask.
    She jumps to her feet. “I have to go.”
    Before I can ask why, she’s gone.
     
    #
     
    “We’ll be transporting. I’ll show you where to land, so that you don’t alarm any humans in the building.” Mid-morning light casts harsh shadows across Annalise’s face, highlighting her razor sharp cheekbones. She’s the first person I’ve seen since Kyra left last night, and despite myself, a little flutter of relief tickles my gut.
    “I can’t transport on my own.”
    Annalise rolls her eyes. “Yes, you can. You just have to try.” She slips back into her typical brisk business-manner. She checks her wristlet. “It’s important people see you enter or leave your office every day. The public cameras must capture you walking between locations at least twice a day. And you must never transport in the presence of humans. Do you understand?”
    She’s treating me like a child. “Yes,” I say sullenly.
    “Good. Are you ready?”
    I sling my satchel over my arm and, despite the million bouncy balls sitting in my stomach, follow her into the hallway and down the stairs.
    At the bottom of the staircase, Dawson leans against the banister while Oliver stands a few paces away. The two men stare at each other with intense concentration. Without warning, Dawson lunges forward and the air around him crackles. Energy ricochets through the grand foyer and I grab onto the railing to support myself.
    “What are you doing?” I yell out in horror.
    The two men swing their attention around to me, and Oliver lifts his hand and smiles in greeting. “Good morning, Lark.”
    “Morning, Miss Lark,” Dawson mumbles as he steps away from the staircase. “Oliver asked for a demonstration of a defensive technique I’ve been working on.”
    The two of them stand at attention, waiting for Annalise’s direction. Side-by-side, they couldn’t look more different. Dawson has to be at least fifty and appears somewhat professor-like with his antique, wire-rimmed glasses and stiff, tweed jacket. Oliver, on the other hand, can’t be much older than my brother Callum, about twenty-two. But unlike Callum, Oliver looks friendly. Maybe it’s the wide smile he’s trying to hide or the way he hangs his head as he scrapes the toe of his shoe over the squeaky floorboard, but he reminds me a little of Beck.
    My lips twitch into a half-smile.
    “Enough of that,” Annalise orders. “Malin’s home is no place for your idiotic feats of strength.” Neither man answers. Like Mother, Annalise has a way of making people obey her. I wonder if she has the power of persuasion also. “Dawson, you’ll transport first, followed by myself and Lark. Oliver, you’ll bring up the rear.”
    She touches the feed behind her ear and listens for a moment, nodding her head in response to a question I can’t hear. Dawson and Oliver do the same.
    “Where’s Kyra?” I ask. Annalise holds up a finger to hush me. When she’s done listening to whatever is on her feed, she says, “Kyra will join us at the State building.”
    It doesn’t sound ominous, but the tone of her voice sends shivers down my spine. Did I get Kyra in trouble with my questions about Beck?
    “Don’t worry about Kyra, Miss Lark,” Dawson says, anticipating my feelings. “You need to focus on transporting.”
    He disappears before me without spinning. He simple blinks out. I’ve never seen that