Chapter 326
As we walked, I tried to evaluate the situation. I had no intention to run—not yet. For the moment, at least in theory, I held the position of power. Miles was still curious—not only about what I could do, but what had already been done.
Miles was better armed Dorothy, desperate for a peek behind the emerald curtain.
Meanwhile, I played the wizard.
Like the wizard, I knew that what actually lay behind the curtain was a hard sell. On the surface level, the Nursery would resemble another form of organization involving a singular leader that Miles would be intimately familiar with. There was no denying the parallels. Distracting him with the specific usefulness of the situation, drawing his attention from the potential generalizations to the more direct and invaluable applications, was the only way this worked.
How this went–and by that, I mean how it all went down–depended almost entirely on how Miles' reacted once the curiosity was gone. His ability to stay objective.
Finger's crossed, I'd already blown that out of the water.
I'd instinctively paused at the fork in the hallway, weighing my options between the current floor and the garage's echoing stairwell. The familiar tension of the moment crawled across my skin—I'd been in this position annoyingly often.
"Keep moving." Miles' voice sliced through my deliberation, quiet but insistent, the threat as subtle as a knife against silk.
It was nothing new. This wasn't even the first instance I'd been held up at weapon-point in a parking garage by law enforcement. But unlike the previous situations, Miles didn't cajole, or shove, or push the front of the crossbow into my back. If anything, it was the opposite. I'd changed up my speed a little, alternating between lagging and picking up the pace. And Miles' stayed consistent in his spacing, positioning himself a fixed distance behind me and staying there. His finger rested on the trigger-guard rather than the trigger. And maybe the most concerning, he never looked worried.