Free Cassiel Winters 1: Sky's End by Lesley Young Page B

But there wasn’t time, and I didn’t want you to think I was interfering either, as I know how headstrong you are,” he adds, half-smiling as he studies my face.
    He thinks I’m upset about the stupid poem. But I’m not mad at him for confusing me during the test.
    “Look,” I say, focusing on the point that really bothers me. “I never asked for your . . . protection. And while I appreciate your help getting me into ESE, for the record, I didn’t need it.”
    He raises his eyebrows at this, which I don’t appreciate.
    I carry on, pretending not to notice, using my hands to emphasize my points. “I would have done whatever it took to get into ESE. I sensed Daz was in trouble.”
    Did King just scoff at me?
    “So Marcus has you believing in his speculation. Has it occurred to either of you that this line of inquiry could put Daz in real danger if he’s in on an operation?”
    Uh, no, actually it hadn’t. But wait . . .
    “If Daz were on a mission, why would Command admit they misplaced him?”
    “To throw everyone’s scent off the trail!” he says, exasperated, rolling his eyes at my apparent naivety. “They said they believe there are spies on ESE. It makes sense to conceal his mission,” he adds.
    Wait, maybe that’s what King was doing in Daz’s report in my déjà vu . Maybe King was concealing his mission from internal spies.
    I stare at him, trying to deny the fact that if what he says is true, then there’s no way I can help Daz. But wait , going through with this mission might help him, right?
    “Why don’t you place your trust in me?” King says, suddenly reaching forward, grabbing my hand in his. I lose focus, as the warmth of his touch glides up my arm.
    “You cannot go through with this,” he adds, his head tilting to the side slightly, his eyes staring at me imploringly. “Don’t you see, this is the last thing Daz would want you to do?”
    He’s right about that. In fact, Daz would flip if he knew I’d joined ESE, especially given the whole woman auto-scanner business. The note signed D pops into my mind.
    Was it even real?
    King’s definitely real. I know that much. Should I listen to him?
    “But . . .” I’m torn. This mission may be crazy but I also know how serious it is. It would have to be if they’re relying on me. “What about the sift?”
    “Don’t worry about that,” he says, seeming relieved. “They can send in someone else more experienced. Easily. Besides, I am convinced this sift is nothing more than a ploy by a double-crossing escapee.”
    “Anyway,” he adds, brushing aside ESE with total confidence, “they will have to substitute you.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I have a plan for us to leave the station. And we have to go. Now.”
    My eyebrows shoot ceiling high. This explains the combat gear. Is he going to steal us out of ESE? He can’t be willing to risk his career to prevent me from doing this? Is this the most crazy, but totally thrilling, development ever?
    “Don’t you think you’re taking your promise to Daz, ah, a little far here?” I try to sound reluctant. “Besides, if I change my mind, I could just tell them I’m not going to do it.”
    “They will not just let you out of this! They are set on you, especially the Commandant. Our only chance is to leave. Now.”
    I think about Sato and Adm. O’Reilly. No . They probably wouldn’t just let me say no. I think about what King’s proposing. Oh, this is very serious.
    What kind of person am I? A runaway? “Then what am I supposed to do?” I ask, finishing a train of thought out loud. “Hide for the rest of my life to avoid an ESE fugitive penalty?”
    His dimples crease, even from such a slight, assured smile, and he surprises me when he grabs my other hand. They’re rough, warm, and strong. This proximity to him seems to coincide with a hum inside of me.
    Glancing up into his dark blue eyes, like a stormy sea at dusk lit by the moon , I’m totally confused by his actions, by