My mind must have shorted out for a bit, because the next thing I knew, Ryker was gripping my arm and leading me away. I snapped back to reality, jerking free. “I’m not leaving him.”
Ryker grabbed both my arms, giving me a solid shake. “Think, Lune. Don’t let this all be for nothing. Without the box of serum, he can’t enter the city. He’s safe. I know you want that. We don’t need him for the inside job. Everything he was planning on doing is something you can do.”
He dropped his hands, but his gaze remained steady. “If you want to see this mission through, then you’ll come with me right now. Bren was always going to be a casualty. This way, he won’t have to.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned, leaving me with yet another impossible decision. He held all the cards now, Bren’s backpack containing the serum firmly in his possession. As tempting as it was to knock him unconscious and handle the mission alone, I couldn’t. With Bren out of commission, I needed his help more than ever.
I glanced to where Bren lay hidden. This was his life’s mission. Leaving him behind was the ultimate betrayal. Would he ever forgive me?
At least he’ll be safe.
And I would rather have him angry with me for all of eternity than see him destroyed at Renold’s hands.
Pain. Pain filled every pore of my body as I followed after Ryker.
What I wouldn’t give to see Bren’s beautiful face one last time.
But I didn’t have the strength to say goodbye.
The first thing the gate guards did was search us.
Thoroughly.
I grimaced as hands brushed down my thighs. They took Ryker’s pack and mine, but when they tried to take the one containing the serum, Ryker gripped the thing with an ironclad fist.
“No one is to touch this,” he said with authority. “Supreme Elite Renold Tatum’s orders.”
The guards glared at him, but one spoke into his ear communicator to confirm the order. They ushered us forward without a word. It was a three mile hike to Tatum House where I assumed we were going. Two guards flanked us, hands on volt guns at their waists.
The silent tension grew.
A couple miles in, my palms began to sweat. I wiped them on my pants, glad that I wore a thin thermal shirt on this warm day. Still, a damp trail trickled down my back as well. I tugged the bear tooth free of my shirt and tightly fisted it. Bren had given the necklace back to me earlier today in case questions arose about our relationship. But now it didn’t matter.
Out of nowhere, my knees threatened to buckle as grief grabbed my heart and viciously yanked. I clutched at my chest, expecting to find a Bren-sized hole. “I left him.”
At my whispered words, Ryker shot me a look.
He’s mine and I left him. I left my soulmate.
“Keep it together,” Ryker muttered, sliding a glance to the guards.
I didn’t want to. I wanted to fall apart. I’d left my rock, my comfort, my safety behind. I might never see him again, and I hadn’t said goodbye.
When the house came into view, a new kind of misery writhed in my stomach.
Everything looked the same.
The trees, the gravel road, the expansive front lawn. Benny and Lennie, the two giant lion sculptures, still guarded the iron and glass front doors. I didn’t dare touch them, not when the guards were observing my every breath. Dobson, the house’s middle-aged butler, already had the doors open, stoic as ever. Normally we’d trade a few barbed comments, but not this time. Not when everything looked the same yet felt so different.
Or maybe it was me. I was different. Because when I’d entered Tatum City eleven years ago, everything felt big. But it wasn’t my world anymore. This was simply another set of walls to overcome. To break down.
Once inside the house, I took in the polished wood, marble, archways and chandelier with one swift glance. I wondered if Renold would keep us waiting. Draw out the suspense and misery—a favorite tactic of his. When Dobson stepped around me, I followed him into the bowels of the house I so deeply loathed. The Winter Garden’s exotic plants even failed to brighten the stifling space.
I had forgotten that I’d have to speak to the elitists darkening these halls. Nothing had changed for them, but I was a different person now with a wealth of knowledge. Keeping my true self hidden would be harder than ever.
When Dobson stopped just outside the banquet hall, I fought off a cringe. Lunch hour had passed, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t walking into a room full of elites. Just once, I wished to stride into the enormous space with its ridiculously long table, roaring triple fireplace, and soaring barrel-vaulted ceiling with a semblance of real confidence.
Today wasn’t that day.
Be brave. Be strong.
I am not weak, I inwardly chanted. It was the best I could do.
I straightened my spine. Tipped up my chin.
And stepped into the room.
A set of eyes immediately pierced mine. Only one, belonging to the sole occupant of the room. Seeing their icy familiarity was like ripping open an old scar. I bore the pain, drawing closer and closer to the man at the center of all my fears. To the monster who’d shredded my back and tortured my mind.
To the devil himself.
Sapphire rings flashed as Renold gestured for us to be seated. I didn’t hesitate, making for the seat of honor to his left. I could have sworn his white-blond eyebrows lifted in surprise as I smoothly pulled out the high-backed chair and settled myself on its blue velvet cushion. Ryker sat across from me on Renold’s right.
When he placed his long, elegant hands on the table, old habits drew my gaze to them, like a moth to flame. A very deadly flame.
A sliver of fear crawled up my throat. I quickly tore my eyes away only to meet Renold’s pale blue ones.
He smiled that secret smile of his, as if he knew every last dark corner of my mind. “Welcome home,” he said, his lightly accented voice smooth and cultured as always. He looked at my wrapped wrist, but his attention lingered the longest on the crescent moon tattoo I’d made sure to expose. “It would seem you’ve had quite the adventure.”
An open-ended statement. One that would receive an open-ended response.
“I have,” I replied neutrally. “We both have.”
His smile dipped a little. “But it was successful?” He turned his attention to Ryker, and I finally allowed myself to breathe.
“Yes, sir,” Ryker said, lifting the backpack off the floor. “With your permission?”
Renold nodded, watching closely as Ryker undid the zipper. If only there was a syringe prepared inside. If only Ryker plunged the needle into his uncle and pumped him full of memory-blocker serum. But all he did was carefully set the box on the table. As Renold pulled back the lid and peered inside, nausea swirled in my gut. What did it mean that he wasn’t keeping the serum a secret from us?
He swiftly closed the lid and waved Dobson over, who took the box with a bow and left the room.
And just like that, the serum was out of our grasp.
Razor-edged silence blanketed the room.
Then, “There’s a few vials missing and so is Mr. Bearon.” Renold steepled his fingers, leaning back in his chair. “Seems you two have a lot of explaining to do.”
Two hours.
Two hours of masking my inner turmoil, of talking about Bren as if he meant nothing to me, of painting him as a traitor.
I was seconds away from completely losing it.
At least I was finally free of my adoptive father’s penetrating gaze. Time would tell if Renold believed our stories, but for now, Ryker and I had the rest of the day to ourselves.
Exhaustion pulled at my limbs as I marched down the hall, but fury drove me forward. Feet away from my destination, a door whipped open. And there she was, Renold’s daughter. Rose took one look at my murderous expression and immediately snapped her mouth shut. Still, she flipped back her platinum blonde curls and sneered at my travel-worn clothing, telling me with her big brown eyes
how pathetic I looked.
I couldn’t care less what Rose Tatum thought of my appearance.
Our old feud was meaningless compared to everything I’d experienced the last few months. I knew now that her barbed words were nothing more than a little girl’s jealousy. That and she was wretchedly bored. I didn’t have the time or patience for such things. So when she threw back her shoulders and stepped into the hallway, ready to do her worst, I stormed past before she had the chance.
I heard her splutter in protest, but I was already through my bedroom door, cursing when Ryker strode in behind me without invitation. I wanted to slam the door and show them both my wrath, but Rose would no doubt tattle on me. I settled for firmly shutting it in her shocked face.
I turned on Ryker, hissing, “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Lower your voice,” he softly growled, jabbing a finger at the door.
“I don’t care.”
His brows lowered. “We need to work together on this, Lune.”
Together. Like Bren had wanted.
Tears sprung to my eyes. I jerked around, desperate for some privacy. The dam was bursting and I did not want Ryker to see. My old room came into focus, with its cheery yellow walls and bright peach furnishings. I sat on the canopied bed.
“Leave.” The command was pitifully small as my throat closed. I bent, fumbling with my boot laces. A tear slipped free, splatting onto the hardwood floor.
“Lune.”
No. No! He knew.
“Leave,” I snarled past quivering lips. Another tear joined the first.
A weight settled on the mattress beside me.
When he said, “I’m sorry,” my chest cracked wide open.
A choking noise left me. I tried to stop it, tried to clamp my lips tight, but it was no use. As the stuttering sobs built in volume, I felt Ryker’s arms around me. He shifted our positions until my mouth was pressed to his chest—to muffle the calls of distress. He held me there, slowly rocking me as I released my anguish.
My overwhelming guilt.
For leaving Bren.
The tether snapping into place was immediate, jerking me off the bed and through the house’s wall. I mentally soared west, over the barracks, past the lagoon and French Broad River, and to the densely-wooded part of Tatum City so few ventured into. A cage sprung into view. Arcus Point. I flew over it, heading straight toward a short cement structure.
Fear pinged through me, almost breaking my concentration.
I fought the urge to pull back, to disconnect from her before I was sucked inside that building.
But no, I had to. Had to know if she was okay. Especially now. Now that I knew she was inside a bunker filled with . . . with . . .
The tether yanked me past the steel door and I mentally screamed. Screamed all the way down, down, down through layers of concrete and shadowy corners filled with monsters. Waking nightmares. I saw cages. Things inside them. Mutated beasts. Magnawolves. Saber cats. Pacing, roaring, clawing to get out.
But there was something else too. Other things. Stars, no. No! There were humans. Locked in cages.
Bam!
I jerked to a halt and everything went dark. I panicked, struggling to see before a beast got me.
No, no, no. Focus. Focus!
Alarm flitted through my mind. “L-Lune? Is that you?”
I stilled at the sound of her sweet voice. Yes, Iris, it’s me. I’m back. I’m finally back.
I thought Tatum City hadn’t changed.
I was wrong.
There was a newfound tension, a wariness. Not the kind I’d known for eleven years, where the citizens fought to climb the ladder of success on the backs of their neighbors. No, this feeling of distrust was more palpable. Searching. Burning. Goals weren’t one-and-the-same anymore.
Asher had been right.
The people were scared but finally asking questions. Good thing too since I knew where the missing people were now. No wonder we hadn’t been able to find them all these years. So few had access to the bunker where the mutated beasts were kept, and no one in their right mind would try to break inside.
Whispers followed me down the halls, from the lips of elites and staff members alike. About my scars, Renold’s brutality, my three month absence, and what I must have endured. The former still made jabs, questioning my worthiness at earning an Elite Guardian title. But not all of them. Some were curious, even awed as I strode on by. As for the staff—the lesser of Tatum House—their expressions were all the same.
Hopeful.
Like they knew I’d returned to change their lives for the better.
Like I had the strength, the power to make a difference.
If they only knew how weak I felt.
My orders as the city’s Elite Guardian were simple. I was to oversee the other guards, making sure they did their jobs. But I was also supposed to survey the city and report back with any suspicious behavior. Renold especially wanted me to keep an eye on the villagers—which was to my advantage. They were exactly who I needed to see.
Ryker was to remain by my side at all times, still my Keeper. My shadow. And no doubt intended to keep me in check. He had loyally reported my activities to his uncle before our mission, and would continue to do so now. I could only hope that he was on our side and wouldn’t screw this whole thing up.
The moment I took a step outside the creepy house, I was filled with bone-deep relief. After not even a day of obsessively worrying over Bren and Iris, I was dying for a distraction. I promised myself that I’d personally contact Bren by nightfall. Jaxon said he was all right and wanted to speak to me, but I just . . . I needed a little more time. My emotions were still raw, and I couldn’t afford another meltdown.
The urge to throw my head back and soak up the sun’s early morning rays overcame me. But Ryker’s elbow nudged me forward. Ugh. Some things never changed.
“Did Renold mention anything about upholding his deal with you yet?” I asked him quietly as Trials trainees and stable hands openly gawked at us. I adjusted the dagger holster across my chest, the one thing from the outside I couldn’t bear to part with.
“Actually, yes,” he replied, his voice low and even as he chased away the curious looks with his usual glare. “Half an hour ago, I ran across him in the hall. He said the serum was almost ready. That’s all he said.”
Great. Mysterious as ever.
“And Iris?” he asked.
“He said she’s safe.” And I didn’t dare press him for details. The first thing he’d ever punished me for as a child was asking a question. I already knew she was alive—I had checked on her again this morning—but I still didn’t know what he was doing to her. She had tried to tell me, saying something about needles. Both times I’d contacted her though, she’d fallen asleep, her mind feeling sluggish. Drugged?
At least I knew where she was. Now I just had to find a way inside.
No problem.
Nervous anticipation kicked in when we rounded Tatum House and I caught sight of an achingly familiar two-story structure. My throat closed. Two of my favorite things were inside that building. At least, they should be. Asher was alive, the last I knew. But he’d been snooping around a lot lately, spreading rumors and asking questions. He knew the price. Knew that people disappeared for less. But he’d done it anyway, for me.
Stars, if anything happened to him because of me, I wouldn’t survive it.
Fingers of fear suddenly clutched at my chest and I broke into a jog, needing to see him more than anything in the world. My only human friend for a decade—my best friend—had to be all right.
I was aware of Ryker hissing at me to slow down, but there was no way. I barreled inside the stables, my boots clapping against cement. When the familiar scents of charger sweat and raw meat struck my nose, I skidded to a stop. Ryker cursed, barely avoiding a bodily collision. Dust motes floated in the air, flashing in the morning light. I blinked past them, searching, searching . . .
“Thinking
about me?” a voice said from behind. A voice I had grown up with and heard change from a boy’s squeaky alto to a man’s smooth tenor. I stiffened, not because he was at my back—the vulnerable part of me I never left exposed—but because it took all of my willpower not to whirl around and throw myself into his arms, then sob my heart out.
Ryker mumbled something and brushed past, heading for his charger’s stall. I remained where I was. One false move and I would lose it, right here where the occupants of the stable could see. So much for avoiding a meltdown.
Asher cleared his throat. I peeked over my shoulder to catch him tip his chin at the second floor loft. Stable hands sometimes slept up there, but it should be empty this time of day. I made for a ladder, assuming he would take another.
At the top, the space was packed with piled-up crates, and I couldn’t see him. But then he was there, his tall, lanky form sliding into view. He approached me slowly, as if I was a skittish animal—the same thing he’d done countless times before, always mindful of my moods.
The Ridge believed he was an Empath.
Could he hear my thoughts? Did he know about his abilities but kept them a secret like I had?
I still hadn’t moved. I could only stare as the dust motes cleared, giving me the perfect view of his boyishly handsome face. He looked the same, with ash-blond hair that stood up every which-way and sky blue eyes that crinkled at the corners.
He smiled.
And there were those deep dimples that I’d missed so much.
My nose scrunched up as the burn started. There was no stopping them. Tears were definitely coming. And fast. As the first one filled my eye, his arms opened. An invitation. One that I didn’t hesitate to accept.
I stumbled forward and all but fell into his embrace, pressing my mouth to his shoulder as a hiccup left me. His frayed, hay-scented collar was quickly soaked with my tears. His arms were solid, work-worn hands steady as they rubbed my lower back. I let him comfort me in the stillness, listening to the muted animal and human sounds from below.
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