ashen city (Black Tiger Series Book 2)

by Sara Baysinger

  I close my eyes, try to shut her face out of my mind, but sleep is elusive now. Besides, I’m going to die in the next few hours, anyway, so why waste my time on sleep? I’ll be sleeping for an eternity after tomorrow, unless Rain can magically make me innocent again.

  I choke out a pathetic laugh at the prospect.

  Inhaling another breath of the stuffy air, I study the others through the dim light. I’ve learned from the whispers that everyone is a rebel of some sort in these specific cells. Most have spoken against the government or attacked a Defender. Only one man is straight from the Resurgence. Two others are affiliated with but not actually a part of the Resurgence.

  Like Leaf and his parents.

  So much for equality. So much for a utopian government. The very first Chief of Ky, Chief Quentin, may have started Ky with good intentions over a hundred years ago, but Titus’s—my—father ruined everything, and Titus followed in his footsteps.

  And I’m scared. Heart poundingly terrified. I wish I’d never come back. I should’ve left. I should’ve headed for the ashen city, found the Resurgence, and recruited their help to find Dad and Elijah. Instead, I counted on my own nonexistent cleverness.

  Stupid girl.

  The claw of hunger scrapes the inside of my stomach. I place my arms over it to silence the awful sound. Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the rough concrete. I feel like my death tomorrow can’t come soon enough. Because I’m already dead. My heart already stopped beating. My lungs don’t really want to breathe. They expand and deflate involuntarily. And I’m numb. So incredibly numb. I close my eyes, and my brain collapses, every single thought crumbling to piles of broken bricks. Until. Every. Thought. Is. Gone.

  And then a child’s voice breaks the silence. My eyes open. Through the dim blue light, I see a small girl in the cell across from mine. She’s wrapped in the arms of her weeping mother, singing in the purest voice. My heart breaks. What is a girl as young as she doing in a place like this?

  The melody of her song washes over me, cleaning my spirit, taking away my distress. She sings the same song over and over again, the song called “The Keeper’s Lullaby.” The song Mcallister told me to sing tonight. I frown, then listen more closely to the words. Because this is the song Mom used to sing to me and Elijah during thunderstorms.

  Follow me, little one, to land of ashes

  Where death has its hold so it seems

  Where rivers flow free and the water washes

  back the control of the supremes

  Caverns run deep by the northern line

  When you follow the emerald eyes

  Hidden beneath a blanket of vines

  Is a place where our only hope lies

  Did Mcallister want me to remember these words only to be tormented by memories of my mother? More importantly, does he know it has to do with the Resurgence? At least…I think it does. I put the pieces together when I was lying in my hotel room one night.

  Emerald eyes means Jonah Walker, the Resurgence leader. The one who broke into my hotel room and got me into serious trouble. He’s one of the many reasons Titus hates me. What is it with green-eyed people? Titus. Walker. So far, they’ve been nothing but trouble.

  Land of ashes can only mean the ashen city, also known as Louisville, also known as the ghost town of Ky, a place completely abandoned where the last of the plagued died out.

  Wrapping my hands around my bare arms, I curl up and lay back down, allowing the girl’s voice to wipe away my bitterness. Her voice is calming, waves and waves of peace rolling into my spirit, washing away my fear until it dissolves into nothingness.

  Death.

  Death isn’t what scares me. It’s more the way I’ll die that terrifies me. Will it be quick or slow? How painful will Titus make it?

  But the afterlife…I’ve seen what it looks like, and there’s nothing scary about it. Not really. My spirit craves it—this paradise. This eternity filled with laughter and smiling eyes and familiar faces. I lean my head back and smile.

  Death can’t come quick enough.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Ember Carter, come to the gate.”

  I lift my head from my knees to find Mcallister standing at the panel, his arms locked behind his back. “Whitcomb wishes to see you,” he says.

  “Why?” I say, my voice weak. “So he can kill me himself?” It must be that time.

  No answer. Mcallister makes the shield go down and nods for me to follow. When we step outside, I have to block my eyes against the blinding sunlight. The fake weather warms my bones from the prison cold.

  When we arrive at the capitol building, Mcallister leads me through a series of halls, revealing his badge at every door we go through. I don’t know why Titus wants to see me. I guess to condemn me to my face. Maybe he wants to be the one to kill me, make sure I actually die this time.

  My heart is a beating drum by the time we enter the capitol building. I approach one of the benches outside the chief’s office, but I hardly have time to sit down before a Defender comes out the doors.

  “He’s ready for you.”

  Wow. So eager. My hands trembling, I lift my chin, force any emotion out of my eyes, and remind myself that Titus has already decided to have me executed, so it doesn’t really matter how much I piss him off right now.

  I’ll give him everything I’ve got.

  My fists clench at my sides as we step into the office. The doors close behind us, sending a chilling echo through the room. Titus is sitting at his desk, a warm smile easing on his flawless face. His hair is combed to one side, his black vest fitted over a pressed white shirt. His green eyes are sharp, missing nothing, and when he stands, I note the gun in his belt.

  “Miss Carter, how nice to see you.” Titus grins in obvious pleasure.

  “Wish I could say the same.”

  Titus nods at Mcallister. “You may release her. Not like she’s going anywhere.”

  Mcallister’s hand drops from my arm, and I quickly scan the room for an escape. But Titus was right. I’m not going anywhere. Not with six Defenders standing along the wall. This meeting is achingly familiar. Similar to the last one we had when he killed Leaf. Is he planning on redoing the whole scene, using my dad and brother this time? My stomach hollows at the thought.

  Titus steps around his desk and walks toward me. I keep my gaze straight ahead, refusing to allow him one glimpse into my emotions.

  “You don’t look so good,” he says. “Dark circles under your eyes. You’re wearing the ugliest clothes I’ve ever seen. And your hair is a terrible mess.”

  “One night in your unforgiving prison will do that to people.”

  “I bet you’re hungry, since I haven’t granted the list of requests you’d made. Would you like me to fetch you some food?”

  I look at him in surprise. “So I can die with a full belly?” I release a shocked laugh. “No thanks. I’ll die before I accept anything from you.”

  “Spoken like a true rebel.” He clucks his tongue, crosses his arm, and leans his hip against his desk. “Speaking of rebels, I heard about your family.”

  “Of course you did. You’re the one who murdered them.”

  His brows shoot up, then he rubs his chin with neat, manicured fingers. “We are quick with our assumptions, aren’t we?”

  Assumptions? Hope fights its way into my chest.

  “Are you going to deny it?” I dare to whisper.

  “Depends. Are you going to tell the whole country what I did if I don’t deny it?”

  My body goes cold then hot. “So you did do it.”

  “I didn’t say that I did or that I didn’t. I only said I wouldn’t deny it.”

  I’m so confused now. But then, Titus has always been good at playing mind games. “What—what do you want with me?”

  He gives a hallow laugh. “What do I want with you? You came to me, little sister.”

  I bristle. “Don’t call me ‘little sister.’”

  “Ah. But that’s wha
t you are. Tell me, did you miss me that badly?”

  “I—I want my dad and brother back. And I want you to rebuild our home and our orchard.”

  He barks out a laugh. “Such demands from a lowly Proletariat.”

  “I’m your sister.”

  “Ah, not so quick to dismiss that title now, are you?”

  I grit my teeth.

  “Now tell me,” he says, “why on earth I would fulfill the demands of a traitor?”

  Traitor? This again? “I thought you believed I was innocent.”

  “Because of some video where Rain edited out Jonah Walker breaking into your hotel? Do I look stupid to you?” He straightens, stares at me, his green eyes holding a dangerous warning. “Did you think I wouldn’t know that Walker and his band of rebels were on standby while you were being burned? That they were aching to wreak havoc on Frankfort if I actually let you die?”

  I stare at him in shock. “The Resurgence was here while you burned me?”

  “They were here, and you know it. The only way to keep Walker off my back was to let you live. I’m not dumb, Ember. And it’s a terrible offense for you to treat me like I am.”

  “I-I don’t think you’re dumb at all. It’s just—if you think I’m working with them, why wouldn’t you just arrest me? Why confiscate my family—”

  “Because this is how I work, Miss Carter,” he snaps, cutting me off. “I like to kill every family member of those associated with traitors.”

  And I have my answer. He did burn the orchard. He did take my family.

  “You pull my strings,” he says. “I pull yours. You’re not innocent, Ember. Not in the least. Neither is your father. Neither is your brother. And neither is Forest, as a matter of fact.”

  A chill races up my spine. “Forest has been working for you, though.”

  “If only that were true.” He brushes a flake of imaginary lint off his vest. “I told him to bring you back only days after you’d left. He refused.”

  He did? “Why did you want so badly for me to come back?”

  “Why on earth would I trust another Alpha running around loose in my country? You have the power to control Defenders. You could have so easily created an army to rise against me.”

  I hadn’t really thought of that. But he’s right. I totally could have walked right into the Defender barracks of the Community Garden and taken lead of an army. I curse my foolishness. Why, why, why didn’t that cross my mind?

  “So instead of sending a messenger directly to me, asking me to return, you tried to manipulate Forest, and then you dramatically burned my orchard. Classy.”

  His lips quirk up. “It was never your orchard, Ember. It’s always been mine.”

  I roll my eyes, not caring one whit how much I piss him off right now.

  “You also took my family,” I continue, my bitterness threatening to choke me. “So tell me, what do you want with me, Titus? What can I do to get you off my family’s back?”

  He grins. “Die,” he says. “I want you to die.”

  His words hardly shock me. “Well, that’s obvious. You’ve wanted me dead since my first death sentence, before you even knew I was your sister.”

  “Oh, I knew you were my sister. I knew since the first day I laid eyes on you in the prison arena.”

  He knew? How the rot did he know? He couldn’t have found out until my blood test, when that guy at the desk made the call.

  “It was fun,” Titus says, crossing his arms, “watching you struggle through Frankfort trying to make friends and failing miserably. It was entertaining, studying you while you refused time and time again to have anything to do with Walker and the Resurgence. But I’m afraid I’m done playing these games. I’m a very busy man, dear Ember. I have picnics to host and Patricians to please, and you’ve honestly failed at providing any more entertainment. I’m also tired of the Resurgence consistently causing trouble in Frankfort. But I’m afraid that if I kill you, I won’t hear the end of it from the Resurgence.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean.” He narrows his eyes. “They want you to work for them. They want to take me down and make you chieftess. Please don’t pretend like you didn’t know this.”

  I haven’t really thought about it, but it all makes sense. Judah said in prison that they were looking for Titus’s long-lost sister, who happens to be me. Jonah Walker entered my hotel room trying to recruit me. So yeah. I guess I would have found out eventually, but I hadn’t come to the full conclusion.

  Until now.

  “So…what do you want, then?” I ask.

  Titus looks at me, smiles a little, gestures with his hand. “I won’t kill you, if you agree to the proposition I’m about to make.”

  That’s surprising.

  “I want to hire you as a politician. This is actually Forest’s idea, as you probably know. I thought it absurd at first. A commoner running this country as a politician? Out of the question. But, you are my sister, and you do share my Alpha Blood. And I could probably find some good use for you. And if we work together, it would get the Resurgence off my back. In fact, if you and I make a truce, they might just come out of hiding and stop these ridiculous uprisings.”

  “So you want me to work for you? As, like, a politician?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “What about my dad and brother?”

  “They will be safely returned to the orchard to resume their work. I’ll have the house rebuilt and trees replanted, and they will live happily ever after, indulging in all the luxuries you lavished upon them in your document. Food. Blankets. Elijah will be able to choose his career, and your father will receive medication for his arthritis.”

  “And what would I have to do?”

  “Move here to Frankfort. You’ll have to live under constant surveillance since you have worked with the Resurgence in the past, but if you’re as innocent as you claim, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Except it is. Who wants to be constantly monitored?

  “And will I have a voice?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Will I have a say in how to run things?”

  His lips thin out and he crosses his arms. “Like what?”

  “I want you to stop treating the Proletariats like slaves.”

  He barks out a laugh. “Slaves? Seriously? They’re not treated like slaves. Slavery is different from ignorance.”

  I step forward, a strange courage filling me. “If I join you, I want the starvation to end. I want every Proletariat to receive the antitoxin, and I want their workload lightened.”

  He stares at me. And laughs again, but this one’s filled with genuine shock. “Give an antitoxin to all the Proletariats? Now why on earth would I do that?” Another laugh of disbelief, like I suggested we build an empire on the moon. “My dear sister. We are living like kings and queens inside the cupola. The Proletariats don’t even know they’re suffering. I mean, if they were aware of their circumstances, I could sympathize. But they aren’t. They aren’t aware that they’re overworked and starving. They have no idea! They’re perfectly content living their pathetic, robotic little lives. They love me. So why change that? Why do you want to make them miserable?”

  “They’re already miserable by the mere fact that they can’t even think for themselves.”

  He laughs softly and shakes his head. Then a sadness fills his eyes, as if he feels sorry for me. “God gave us power, Ember, and we are to use that power. Why would I throw that away by distributing the antitoxin?”

  It’s surprising to hear Titus, of all people, mention God, when his grandfather is the one who banned all religion. But his idea of God is completely skewed.

  “God did not give you this power,” I say. “It was man made. And I doubt God would want you to use your power like this, even if he did give it to you. You’ve taken your responsibility and twisted it. What you’re doing is wrong, and you know it. You need to give the citizens the freedom of choic
e. You need to give them the ability to live and think for themselves—”

  “Which would be an excellent doorway to more uprisings.” He chuckles, shaking his head, and walks back around to the other side of his desk. “I’m sorry, Ember. I thought we could work together, perhaps see eye to eye, but apparently I was wrong. You sympathize with brainless nobodies, and I can’t have that. I can’t have a weak sympathizer on my team of strong politicians. I can’t have you working with me and risk you tearing down the government your own father and grandfather worked so hard to build.” He nods at Mcallister, and Mcallister has his hand wrapped tightly around my upper arm in an instant. “So I guess I’m going to have to dispose of you now.”

  Oh rot. What a twisted turn of events.

  “Wait,” I say. “What about my family?”

  He shrugs. “Because of you, I’ll have to have them killed.”

  “No! You can’t—”

  “I can do whatever I want.” His eyes snap to mine. “I’m the chief. I’m your ruler. I’m the government. Everything in Ky is mine to do with as I wish. Your family is mine. The orchard is mine. The Community Garden is mine. And all of Ky, the entire population. Under. My. Thumb.” His lips quirk up. “Mine.”

  “You’re awfully selfish, Titus.” I look pointedly at him, fighting down the urge to strangle him. “Didn’t your mother teach you to share? Oh wait, she ran off because she couldn’t stand the sight of you.”

  His gaze hardens, his smile fading into a thin, tight line. “Careful, Ember. Your quick death at gunpoint in the next hour is an act of mercy on my part. But I can make your circumstances worse. Captain Mcallister is trained in many areas, including torturous interrogation. He will kill you so slowly you’ll wish you were burned with your family.”

  My heart stops. “So…they were burned?” My chest tightens. “You…already killed them?” It’s suddenly too hard to breathe.