“No.”
My brow furrowed.
“You’re going to take the shot.” He said it with such finality that I sputtered nonsensically. He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Just trust me.”
Just trust me. Trust me. Trust. Trust. Trust.
“A secret for a secret?” Now was not the time for truth-telling, but I had to know something. This could be my last opportunity to ask. “Secret: I’m afraid. Every day, all the time. Especially right now. Your turn. What are you?” Because he wasn’t a normal human. He couldn’t be. Not when he did the things he could do.
His breathing intensified. He sounded afraid, too. But this wouldn’t work if we couldn’t trust each other. Finally, he whispered so low, I strained to catch the words, “I am many things. A Sensor, for one. It’s how I . . . it’s how I found you all those years ago. Why the Recruiter Clan used me. The world is changing, Lune, and we are changing with it. Whether we want to or not.”
My brain scrambled to make sense of what he had just revealed. I could tell that it was just a tiny corner of the puzzle but, in this moment, it was enough. Even though I didn’t know how to trust, I did it anyway. I grasped the offered bow and arrows. “You better be real.”
“I’m real. I’m right here.”
The monster huffed, and my pulse roared. It was stirring awake. In a flurry of movement, I kneeled, Bren directly behind me. My arms trembled as they pulled back the string. Quaked when the draw-weight was too much. I hissed in fear and frustration. The beast was rising. I wasn’t strong enough. Bren wrapped his fingers around mine and lent me the strength I lacked.
I let him.
“Stronger together,” he whispered, the words warming my scalp. When the bowstring was sufficiently drawn, he slowly released my fingers.
I would never forget this moment, when two supposed enemies became strong allies. When my kidnapper did everything in his power to set me free. So, when the raging bear charged, I didn’t waver. I didn’t run. I didn’t hesitate.
I faced my fear and destroyed it.
My fate would be decided today.
I hadn’t won the Arcus Point Trial, but I hadn’t lost either. And the not knowing—the teetering on the edge of a precipice, helpless to stop the inevitable tip one way or the other—was excruciating.
But one thing was for certain. I was now an elite, regardless of my wants. I had risked becoming what I hated most for the chance to earn what I desired most. They gave me my old room back, not a single trinket of Rose’s to be found in the airy, circular space. I’d always loved this room, despite what it represented. The walls and furniture were palest peach and yellow—not blue, like the dress I now wore. More than anything, I hoped this day would be the last I’d ever have to wear royal blue again.
The material was heavy, as I was expected to stand outside for the Winner’s Ceremony. I was going there next, as soon as my new hairdresser finished securing the elaborate braid she had pinned to the crown of my head. “Were Kara and Arlyn not feeling well today?” I asked her reflection in the mirror.
Her eyes flicked to mine, widening like a doe trapped in a hunter’s crosshairs. “I—I don’t know, my lady.”
I frowned. Usually the staff kept close tabs on each other—it was necessary for their survival. One must never keep an elite waiting. Something was wrong. But, as I studied the woman’s trembling hands and downcast expression, I decided not to push. I’d been the cause of enough pain this week; I wouldn’t cause further harm.
It took me twice as long to navigate the hallways and winding stairs, a pronounced limp slowing my progress, courtesy of the monster. The very much dead monster. My finest hour. I hadn’t frozen. I’d done it. My lips twitched into a faint smile.
Dobson opened the front door for me, and maybe it was just my imagination, but his face seemed less grouchy when I thanked him. Huh. I guess winning a few Trials was the way to earn respect around here. Yesterday’s rain made for a wet, bitterly cold morning. Upon exiting the heated house, a plume of fog curled from my mouth. I placed a fur wrap on my shoulders, and a shudder went through my body as the fur tickled my neck. I’d had enough animal fur brushing my skin to last me a lifetime. By sheer willpower, I managed to not chuck the thing down the steps.
I knew hundreds, if not thousands, of eyes were now focused on me as I gingerly descended the handful of limestone stairs. I hobbled toward a tall podium erected in the center of the massive front lawn where the majority of Tatum City’s population now congregated. I locked my gaze onto the structure. The fixed object was now my lifeline as I navigated an ocean of sharks. I’d never seen an actual shark before, but the stories my mum had told me of the high seas were vivid. Even now, I could imagine the smooth, undulating bodies circling closer, closer. Scenting me, sampling me.
Yes. The city’s populace were sharks. Maybe not all, but jealousy and desperation changed and dehumanized people. They would strike at the first sign of weakness, tearing others down so they could rise instead.
My gait evened, and I bit the inside of my cheek as my ankle and calf throbbed. You’re not out of the water yet. Push past the pain. Show no weakness. I slipped into the first row of bodies, then another. And that’s when the whispers started.
“Attention whore.”
“She doesn’t deserve Title of Choice.”
“She’s weak.”
“Killer.”
That last one punched a hole through my chest. Maybe all the whisperings were true, but that one . . . that one would haunt me for eternity. My eyes betrayed me then. They let go of the lifeline and plunged into the fray, searching for that last voice. And they found its owner. The woman was an older version of Catanna. Her mother? And clinging to her threadbare clothes was a little boy and girl. Her siblings.
Instantly, my throat closed. My eyes burned hotly and my chin wobbled. “I’m . . . I’m so sorry.” The woman’s expression didn’t change. But I didn’t blame her. My apology wouldn’t bring her daughter back, or better her way of life. I had condemned this mother and her two young children to a life of wanting but never getting. Unless she forced her remaining offspring to sign Trial contracts. And even then . . .
It was too much. I was floundering under the weight of so much hate and envy. The sharks were swarming, taking bites out of me, hungry for more.
A warm presence brushed my back, and then banded an arm around me, just under my collarbone. I knew without looking who it was, by the way he moved, in the way he felt, and by how he held me.
“Looks like you need saving again,” his deep voice rumbled in my ear, and I sighed.
For once, I didn’t have a snarky reply on the tip of my tongue. Because he was absolutely right: I needed saving. And right now, here amid so many unfriendly faces, I needed him more than ever. I leaned into his touch, soaking up his offered strength and protection. And I didn’t feel weak. I felt like I could face the sharks and come out the other side, whole and alive.
Together, we made it to the foot of the podium where the other Trial winners anxiously awaited their fates. They didn’t get to choose their new titles—Renold and his pack of advisers did. Bren and I were the only anomalies. Who would get Title of Choice? What title would Bren choose, if given the honor? A swarm of bees found their way into my stomach. The not knowing. It was eating me up inside.
Renold finally joined the throng. Rather, he strolled down a red carpet that magically appeared, then took to the stage during riotous applause. I didn’t clap, and neither did Bren. The strike of a loud gong quieted the noise. Renold raised his hands.
“Citizens of Tatum City, welcome to the Winner’s Ceremony! Those who strive for excellence will be rewarded. So, without further ado, let us present the winners with their new titles!”
My world narrowed to him, the decider of my future. His mouth moved and, one by one, winners were allotted their new titles. But I didn’t hear a word he said. Not even when he announced Ryker’s title. Then Renold looked down at
me, his lips forming my adopted name, and the blood rushing in my ears drained from my face. Maybe even my entire body. If not for Bren’s support, I might have fainted, proving to everyone just how weak the Princess of the the Trials really was.
Renold called another name, Bren’s, and his fingers curled over mine, urging me onward. I could do this. Whatever the outcome, I could do this. I am not weak. We climbed the platform steps together. The people below were a rainbow sea, eyes winking, bodies rippling. I fixated on my guardian’s mouth, and watched with mounting horror as the corners tipped up. He had an ace up his sleeve and was about to play it.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you a story about the two fine young people standing up here. Brendan Bearon, our newest resident, and my adopted daughter, Lune Tatum, both wanted the same thing: to win all three Trials and earn Title of Choice. But here’s the tragedy. They tied. And a tie does not equal a win.” Several gasps sounded from the crowd, and Renold lifted a hand. “Hear me out. There can only be one winner per Trial segment, as stated in the contracts, so I’ve come up with a solution.”
My heartbeat was out of control. I might very well die of a stroke before knowing who won.
“Here’s another piece of the story,” Renold was saying. “Mr. Bearon couldn’t bear to fight against my daughter in the Trials, so I amended his contract. That is, until I discovered they were breaking the contract rules.” Like a light being switch on, the crowd became a mob, hissing and booing. The evil man before me allowed their anger, encouraging it with his silence. Bren’s fingers tightened around mine. They were shaking. A flare of worry ignited in my gut.
Eventually, the jeers quieted enough for Renold to continue his public persecution. “I understand your anger, citizens. The rules must never be broken. They are what unite us; they keep the peace. As punishment—and dare I say it was lenient—they fought in the Arcus Point Trial together. But they once again broke the rules, not fighting against each other, but fighting together. You all saw it on camera. And so, you will all bear witness as I announce my solution to this problem. There will be a winner, but only one; and since they both killed three beasts, the one who shot the most arrows wins. And that would be Brendan, who buried all fourteen of his arrows into those beasts.”
I died.
My soul left my body, too broken to hold me together a moment longer. The stage buzzed with the energy of the people, but I couldn’t see faces—I saw black holes yawning wide, eager to swallow me whole. Renold was talking again. I didn’t want to hear it. He would twist the tragic tale into a victory by knighting the outsider and ushering his daughter back into the elite fold. My life was over. And yet, his words slowly filtered into my mind and took root there.
“But here is where our story takes an unexpected turn. When I initially amended Mr. Bearon’s contract out of the kindness of my heart, he willingly forfeited his right to our most coveted title. So, my people, once again we must conclude another year of Elite Trials without anyone having earned Title of Choice.” Several more gasps. A vein ticked under my right eye. “But before you go back to your lives, sad for these two star-crossed lovers, I’ve decided to bestow upon them both a title I came up with myself. They are the best of us—strong, brave, loyal—and so they will protect us with their lives. I present to you Tatum City’s very first Elite Guardians!”
The world was an undulating wave. I didn’t wave back. I felt my blood freeze. If it weren’t for Bren’s fingers twined with mine, my stiff body would have stayed on that platform where it would eventually collapse, or perhaps float away into nothing. I didn’t care. I couldn’t feel. I was done being hurt.
A block of ice took the place of my heart.
Two weeks later, Bren disappeared.
I had pushed him away after the Winner’s Ceremony, not able to cope with the final loss of my freedom. I knew he just wanted to comfort me, but I also knew a part of me blamed him for everything. “Trust me,” he had said. This was what came of trust: a lifetime of servitude to a city that hated me. And so, a great wall formed between us, taller than any previous ones.
“It’s going to be okay, little bird,” he had said after the ceremony and wrapped his arms around me, even as several elites and villagers looked on. “Just wait and see.”
For a moment, I had leaned into the embrace, unable to stop myself. But I made myself pull away and say, “If you think I’m okay with this, then you don’t know me at all.”
That was the first time I had rebuffed him. It would become one of many.
What an idiot I was for allowing someone to distract me from what mattered most. Stupid for letting Bren wrap himself around my heart. And now I was paying the price for that mistake. The image of my mum was but a faint flicker while the image of Bren was larger than ever, now that I worried. Worried that Renold had done something to him.
I was given a chance to recover from my many injuries before starting my new job as an Elite Guardian. I didn’t even know what the position entailed. For two weeks, I had filled my days with Iris and Asher and Freedom, trying my best to ignore Bren, and now I had a gut-wrenching feeling that my new duties were going to be harder than anything I’d done before.
Renold would make sure of it.
So, when a knock sounded on my bedroom door two days after Bren’s disappearance, I was prepared for the worst. What I didn’t expect was Ryker. I leaned on the door jamb, arms crossed. “Are you here to clean my room? I don’t think the title of maid suits you. I can put in a good word with Renold if you’d like, see if he’ll reassign you out of the kindness of his heart.”
He stared down at me with those two-toned irises and didn’t bat an eyelash. Ugh. He was no fun. “Supreme Elite Tatum sent me to escort you. Said you’d know where to find him.”
And with those words the numbness ripped away. The emotions, the feelings . . . I hurt all over. “Then let’s get this hide-and-seek game over with so you can get back to your cleaning duties.” I had meant for my voice to sound flippant, but it was reed thin. Panic set in with a vengeance.
As I made my way into the bowels of the house, with my enemy before me and an unknown at my back, I couldn’t help but compare my present with my past. The past me would have been scared to be called down here, no doubt for punishment. The meetings had only affected me though. I could handle what he did to me, mentally and physically. But the present me was more than scared. I was petrified. Not for myself, but for the people Renold wanted me to protect. Deep down, I believed Renold was grooming me to become something horrendous. To become what I feared most.
A monster.
Like him.
My fingers pushed open the door before I was ready. And there he was, the greatest monster of them all. I would have rather faced the raging mutant bear in that moment than the soft-spoken, meticulously dressed man standing in the middle of the room. He looked straight through me. “As always, thank you for your service, Mr. Jones. Your loyalty will be rewarded. Wait at the end of the hallway, if you please. You know what your duties are after that. Oh, and say hello to your father for me.”
“Yes, sir.” Ryker shut the door, sealing me inside with my fate.
The keeper of my destiny finally slid his eyes to mine. He stared hard, unwavering, unblinking. My eyes burned under the scrutiny, but I didn’t dare show weakness by breaking contact. Then his face broke into a huge smile. I wanted to run. I wanted to run so badly.
His mouth opened. “Do you know why I value loyalty more than anything else?”
I stiffened. Renold hardly ever offered up information. You don’t give up your secrets for free. I slowly shook my head. “No, sir.”
“Because this city was built on it. Without loyalty, everything I’ve planned—everything my father and his father had planned—would be destroyed. This city is special and, from the beginning, I knew you’d be an asset. You’re different; the Trials proved that. After thirty-four years of waiting, the Trials finally did what I created them for. They revealed wha
t a person is truly capable of. You don’t think like the rest. You think more. You feel more. You do more. You’re pure reaction, Lune. It’s incredible.”
He stirred, hands behind his back, circling me like he always did. I stared straight ahead, willing my muscles to stop trembling. “But you are impulsive and lack control. You’re like a wild animal that can’t be tamed. I see that now. No amount of beating will make you submit.” He stopped directly behind me, like he always did. His breath was hot on my neck as he said, “But I discovered another weakness of yours—a greater one. You care more. And that is why I made you an Elite Guardian. That is why you will do as I say with unfailing loyalty. I have a gift for you.”
A velvet blue box was nestled in his palm. It looked like a jewelry box one would give a loved one. But I knew better. Whatever was in that box would rock my world, and not in a good way. My hands noticeably shook as they accepted the box. As they slowly opened it. At the sight of what lay inside, my fingers spasmed, and the box slipped from my grasp. I watched, shocked senseless, as the contents bounced and rolled along the floor.
I couldn’t tear my eyes from the grisly objects. They looked like . . . human thumbs. A massive wave of nausea overtook my body; I couldn’t hold it back. Stumbling, I heaved up my breakfast into a corner, the wet splat almost undoing me yet again. My breathing was ragged as I straightened, wiping my mouth with as much dignity as I could muster.
“Whose . . . whose are they?”
“Your old seamstress and hairdresser, Kara and Arlyn. It’s all that remains of them. They betrayed me when they agreed to help you publicly flaunt your scars, your failures, at the Gala. You see, Lune, this is what happens when you double-cross me. I know now that beating you isn’t the way to your loyalty. But punishing the ones you care about? Judging by your reaction just now, I believe I’ve finally found a way to control the wild beast.”
Reactive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 1) Page 30