“What are you doing?” Adam says to me. “Don’t go near him.”
I stare at his hand on my arm. Look up to meet his gaze.
Adam doesn’t budge.
“Let go of me,” I say to him.
His face clears all of a sudden, like he’s startled, somehow. He looks down at his hand; releases me without a word.
I put as much space between us as I can, the whole time scanning the room for Kenji. His sharp black eyes meet mine immediately and he raises one eyebrow; his head is cocked to the side, the twitch of his lips telling me the next move is mine and I’d better make it count. I part my way through my friends until I’m standing in front of Warner, facing my friends and their guns and hoping they won’t fire at me instead.
I make an effort to sound calm. “Please,” I say. “Don’t shoot him.”
“And why the hell not?” Ian demands, his grip tightening around his gun.
“Juliette, love,” Warner says, leaning into my ear. His voice is still loud enough for everyone to hear. “I do appreciate you defending me, but really, I’m quite able to handle the situation.”
“It’s eight against one,” I say to him, forgetting my fear in the temptation to roll my eyes. “They’ve all got guns pointed at your face. I’m pretty sure you need my interference.”
I hear him laugh behind me, just once, just before every gun in the room is yanked out of every hand and thrown up against the ceiling. I spin around in shock, catching a glimpse of the astonishment on every face behind me.
“Why do you always hesitate?” Warner asks, shaking his head as he glances around the room. “Shoot if you want to shoot. Don’t waste my time with theatrics.”
“How the hell did you do that?” Ian demands.
Warner says nothing. He tugs off his gloves carefully, pulling at each finger before slipping them off his hands.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “They already know.”
Warner looks up. Raises an eyebrow at me. Smiles a little. “Do they really?”
“Yes. I told them.”
Warner’s smile changes into something almost self-mocking as he turns away, his eyes laughing as he contemplates the ceiling. Finally he nods at Castle, who’s staring at the commotion with a vaguely displeased expression. “I borrowed,” Warner says to Ian, “from present company.”
“Hot damn,” Ian breathes.
“What do you want?” Lily asks, fists clenched, standing in a far corner of the room.
“Nothing from you,” Warner says to her. “I’m here to pick up Juliette. I have no wish to disturb your . . . slumber party,” he says, looking around at the pillows and blankets piled on the living room floor.
Adam goes rigid with alarm. “What are you talking about? She’s not going anywhere with you.”
Warner scratches the back of his head. “Do you never get exhausted being so wholly unbearable? You have as much charisma as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.”
I hear an abrupt wheezing noise and turn toward the sound.
Kenji has a hand pressed to his mouth, desperately trying to suppress a smile. He’s shaking his head, holding up a hand in apology. And then he breaks, laughing out loud, snorting as he tries to muffle the sound. “I’m sorry,” he says, pressing his lips together, shaking his head again. “This is not a funny moment. It’s not. I’m not laughing.”
Adam looks like he might punch Kenji in the face.
“So you don’t want to kill us?” Winston says. “Because if you’re not going to kill us, you should probably get the hell out of here before we kill you first.”
“No,” Warner says calmly. “I am not going to kill you. And though I wouldn’t mind disposing of these two”—he nods at Adam and Kenji—“the idea is little more than exhausting to me now. I am no longer interested in your sad, pathetic lives. I am only here to accompany and transport Juliette safely home. She and I have urgent matters to attend to.”
“No,” I hear James say suddenly. He clambers to his feet, stares Warner straight in the eye. “This is her home now. You can’t take her away. I don’t want anyone to hurt her.”
Warner’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. He seems genuinely startled, as though he’s only now noticing the ten-year-old. Warner and James have never actually met before; neither one of them knows they’re brothers.
I look at Kenji. He looks back.
This is a big moment.
Warner studies James’s face with rapt fascination. He bends down on one knee, meets James at eye level. “And who are you?” he asks.
Everyone in the room is silent, watching.
James blinks steadily and doesn’t answer right away. He finally shoves his hands into his pockets and stares at the floor. “I’m James. Adam’s brother. Who are you?”
Warner tilts his head a little. “No one of consequence,” he says. He tries to smile. “But it’s very nice to meet you, James. I’m pleased to see your concern for Juliette’s safety. You should know, however, that I have no intention of hurting her. It’s just that she’s made me a promise, and I intend to see it through.”
“What kind of promise?” James asks.
“Yeah, what kind of promise?” Kenji cuts in, his voice loud—and angry—all of sudden.
I look up, look around. Everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to answer. Adam’s eyes are wide with horror and disbelief.
I meet Warner’s gaze. “I’m not leaving,” I tell him. “I never promised I would stay on base with you.”
He frowns. “You’d rather stay here?” he asks. “Why?”
“I need my friends,” I tell him. “And they need me. Besides, we’re all going to have to work together, so we may as well get started now. And I don’t want to have to be smuggled in and out of base,” I add. “You can just meet me here.”
“Whoa—wait—what do you mean we can all work together?” Ian interrupts. “And why are you inviting him to come back here? What the hell are you guys talking about?”
“What kind of promise did you make him, Juliette?” Adam’s voice is loud and accusing.
I turn toward the group of them. Me, standing beside Warner, facing Adam’s angry eyes along with the confused, soon-to-be-angry faces of my friends.
Oh how strange all of this has become in such a short period of time.