Double Cross [2] Read Online Free PDF

truth is that he wears it to protecthis head from bumps that might precipitate a vein star episode. In rare cases, a sharp bump on the head can aggravate the condition, or even cause a vein to rupture if it’s already bulging. Though I share his paranoia, hats were never a permutation I had. It’s a bit extreme, no doubt, but I’m hardly in a position to judge. It’s a great compliment that he’s willing to remove it to facilitate our secret dates, because I know how he hates to go without some head protection. Probably he still sleeps with it on, or at least he did last summer. We haven’t slept together, in any sense of the word, since then. Our do-over isn’t up to that point yet.
    He looks up, as though he feels me coming, and smiles. I smile back, and walk a little faster. He could wear the most ridiculous glasses in the world and they wouldn’t detract from the dark elegance of his features, the kissable arc of his curved nose, the dark wavy hair that brushes his shoulders, or his nobility and goodness. He’s the only real hero I’ve ever known.
    Soon I’m in his arms, laughing, locked in a kiss. For a second I forget we’re still not on solid ground yet.
    He draws back. “Hello.”
    “Hi,” I whisper.
    He presses his lips to my forehead, seeming a bit somber suddenly. He’s heard about Rickie. I sigh, breathing in the scent of his neck.
    He snakes his hands under my coat, pushes it back off my bare shoulders. “Oh,” he says.
    I still have my pretty silver cocktail dress on. Overdressed. His bodyguard, Covian, won’t approve. Covian doesn’t like us to be noticeable when we’re sneaking around.
    Otto kisses my cheek. “My lady in silver.”
    I smile, enjoying his whiskery goodness on my cheek. Back when my hair was dyed blonde, I would’ve neverworn silver. But it works for a brunette. My real hair color.
    “Ah. It would seem that Covian wants us to sit.”
    “I don’t even see him,” I say as we settle in. Same side.
    “Three tables over,” Otto says without looking.
    I glance casually through the fern fronds and spot Covian, Otto’s bodyguard, staring sternly, juice in hand. He’s one of the few black men in here. His angular cheekbones are set so high, they seem to squish his eyes upward, and his short hair clings to his head in small, defined curls that look almost carved. He wears a beige khaki shirt. Beige is his favorite color, he told me once. I tease him about it whenever I can. I mean, beige?
    Covian’s a highcap, of course. A precog, which means he can sense things before they happen,
like ocean waves from the future
, he says. He lets his perception flood out all around him.
    “So you heard,” I say.
    Otto nods gravely. “They say Rickie will be okay, but …”
    “You’ll figure it out. You’ll catch them.”
    A crease forms between Otto’s heavy brows. His long silence tells me he’s not so sure he’ll catch them. He says, “People are staying in. It’s happening all over again.”
    “Not like before.”
    “Just wait. Snipers have a way of emptying streets.” He sighs heavily. “If the citizens knew it was only us highcaps being targeted, they wouldn’t be so fearful. I wish I could tell them,
People, don’t hide. If you aren’t a highcap, you have nothing to fear.
”
    I tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “All you’d do is destroy your credibility. It would be like announcing that only Martians are being targeted.”
    “A lot more people accept our existence now. I’ve heard as high as forty-five percent.”
    “If you go out there and start talking about highcaps, you’ll just give the citizenry a new fear.
Guess what, Midcitians—the good news is, the Dorks aren’t targeting you. The bad news is, all those rumors about highcaps in your midst having freaky powers? They’re true.”
    “Sometimes I wonder if it would change things if I stepped forward and announced that I myself am a highcap. Would it help citizens to see that we aren’t