The Conspiracy of Us (The Conspiracy of Us 1)

They said intense situations could bring people closer than knowing each other for years. I suddenly understood what that meant.

Everything felt sharper, stronger, more intense, too clear, like it had after Prada. Like almost dying made me realize how very alive I was. Right now, I was so alive, it hurt. The tears took a minute to stop after our laughter died out.

I leaned my head back against the rough stone wall and looked up. My favorite constellation hung low in the sky above the Istanbul skyline. Its real name was the Pleiades, but I always called it the tiny dipper, because it looked like the mini version of the Big and Little Dippers.

The myths said the Pleiades were seven sisters, daughters of Zeus. Orion loved them all, but Zeus wouldn’t let a lowly hunter have them, so he made his daughters into stars. They said Orion loved them so much, he still followed them across the sky every night, and sure enough, the constellation Orion hung in the sky, not far from the tiny dipper. They looked lower on the horizon than they did at home, but they were still there.

I’d always loved the stars, and the tiny dipper in particular, because no matter where I was, no matter where we moved, it was always the same. The last time I’d seen it was in Lakehaven, about a week ago. Or maybe a lifetime.

Jack took a deep breath beside me.

“How do you think they found us?” he said just as I said, “What’s your star wish?”

“What?” he said.

“What?” I said. “Sorry. Yeah. I have no idea how they found us.”

Jack was quiet for a second, and when I glanced over at him, he was looking at the sky, too. “What’s a star wish?” he said. A garage door down the block ground open and a white car drove out, its headlights blinding me for a second as it went by.

I was about to say we should get back to the clue, but Jack was still looking up at the stars. “Someone I knew used to say your star wish is the thing you want the most in the world,” I said. “The one thing you always wish. On stars, on birthday candles, when the clock says 11:11.”

He tilted his head like a question.

“You don’t have one?” I said. I pushed off the wall, the uneven brick cool under my hands.

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes still on the sky.

I crossed my own arms. “I don’t have one either,” I whispered.

“Why?” he said after a second.

“Because it’s worse to wish for something that’s never going to happen and be disappointed than to never wish for anything at all,” I said, studying my chipped toenail polish.

“Is that why you said no to prom?”

I looked up sharply. His eyes went wide like he was just as surprised to have said it as I was to have heard it. “I mean,” he said. “I didn’t mean—never mind. Sorry.”

He pushed off the wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “So, your—um. How are you doing? I never asked if you’re feeling okay after everything? Learning about all this in one day, and Fitz, and the Prada mess . . .”

I couldn’t help but smile at his rambling. And wonder.

“I’m fine—” I started to say automatically. But I wasn’t. As much as I said I was “fine,” I almost never meant it. I was such a liar.

“No,” I said. “I’m not fine. It sucks.” God, that was freeing. “I come here thinking I have family, then I almost get killed, find out I’m going to be used for some insane ritual thing, and someone who matters more than most of my actual family is kidnapped. It’s been a pretty crappy day, actually.” I bit my lip. “So no, I’m not fine.”

The word echoed in the quiet night air. I stalked down the street. Don’t care. Don’t want. Don’t get attached. I’m fine.

Jack caught up with me. Without a word, he held out his hand. I stopped and stared at it.

I wasn’t longing for anything, I’d told Stellan, and it was true, in a way. But maybe that was exactly what I was missing. Letting myself ache for something, even if I wasn’t guaranteed a happy ending. It wasn’t like I’d never wanted things, but I’d always tried to hold it back. I’d always forced myself to remember what a bad idea it was.

But I couldn’t keep doing that. I did care. I did want. I wanted to save Mr. Emerson. I wanted to hear my mom’s voice. I wanted Jack to say we again. To be part of a “we” at all. To meet my father, my family, even though I knew I shouldn’t want that. Just like I shouldn’t be noticing the flush on Jack’s cheeks, and shouldn’t be remembering how much safer I felt on that ledge when his arms were around me. All the wanting was rushing over me in a wave.

I grabbed my locket and twisted it. The little picture inside of me and my mom, just us, alone always. We were fine. It was fine. I punctuated the word with a yank on the necklace—and felt a snap.

The necklace came off in my hand, the delicate clasp twisted and broken.

I stared at the pretty gold filigree. It had been around my neck almost my whole life. I felt so light all of a sudden. I stuffed the necklace into my bag and took Jack’s hand.

Toska. Wanting something you might not even understand. How was it that other languages could express things so much better than ours? And how had Stellan, of all people, seen that about me when I didn’t even know it about myself?

Jack walked next to me, his hand wrapped solidly around mine, until my breathing calmed. Pretty soon we were out of the quiet residential area and onto a bigger road with dried gum splotches all over the sidewalk and storefront after barred storefront. A rat scurried across the road in the orange glow of a streetlamp. I cleared my throat and wiped my eyes with my free hand. I hadn’t even realized they were wet. “I wonder how the Order found us. They didn’t get close enough to plant a tracker.”

“I was wondering the same thing,” he said. “Maybe our phones somehow? I thought they’d have to know our numbers, but there’s lots of tech out there.”

“That’s not good. Does that mean we should get rid of them?” Now our linked hands swinging between us felt awkward. I used the excuse of getting my phone out of my bag to extract mine.

Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket, too. “Probably, since they could be tracking us right now.”

I shot a paranoid glance over my shoulder, but there was nothing but the occasional car speeding by, taking advantage of the sparse early morning traffic. We stopped at a tall office building with a fountain running along its front wall.