by Dylan Steel
“That’s not true.”
“Of course, it is,” he said firmly. He put a finger beneath her chin, tipping her face toward him. Her stomach swirled with a flurry of emotions that she couldn’t identify.
“You’re the reason we risked exposing the journals to heat—why they no longer appear blank. You’re the one who thought to combine the relics. And,” he added, shooting her a look that ignited something inside her, “you’re the one who discovered most of the relics that we have today, not the least of which you kept hidden on your own.”
Hearing her contributions listed like that gave her a bit of hope—both that the Lawless were making progress and that she was actually helping. That was pretty high praise coming from the benefactor who’d been running the Lawless rebellion for years. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning.
But her momentary elation was brought crashing back down as she replayed his last words. She shifted her weight and looked away. They still had a problem.
“Most,” she said, swallowing hard. “We don’t have all the relics.”
His jaw hardened. “I’m aware.” Coldness seeped into his voice, and he pulled away from Sage, pacing to the other side of the room.
“If he knows I want it, I don’t doubt he’ll suspect my motives.”
“If he knows what it is,” Sage pointed out hopefully.
He looked at her blankly. “He knows. You knew when you saw it.”
“Only because I’d seen it before in the Archives,” she admitted. “I just didn’t know for sure what it was at the time.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Weston leaned against the wall. His free hand clenched into a fist at his side as he stared into space thoughtfully. “It’s part of his collection, and nothing I would offer him would entice him to relinquish it.”
“Except maybe me,” Sage said under her breath.
Weston’s gaze was full of fire as it snapped in her direction. “Don’t joke about that.”
“I wasn’t—but I really hope you have a better idea,” she added quickly, dropping her eyes so she couldn’t see the mixture of disapproval and rebuke on his face—and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a hint of fear.
He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly. Sage watched him carefully. It looked like he was trying to calm himself before speaking again.
His eyes fluttered open suddenly and locked on hers, making her heart pound a bit faster.
“Grayson won’t give it up. And I am unwilling to give him so much as a hint of what we’re doing.” His shoulders slumped in resignation as he looked at her. “We’ll have to steal it. Replace it with a fake. That’s the only way to ensure he remains in the dark.”
“Isn’t that…” Sage swallowed, taking a tentative step closer as she lowered her voice. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
His eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Can you think of another way to acquire it and protect our secret?”
She shook her head slowly. That wasn’t a denial.
“What will he do if he catches us?”
Weston winced. He refused to meet her eyes now. “I’ll have a forgery made as soon as possible. You can keep working on deciphering the journals with the relics we do have in the meantime. With our Quorum preparations, it shouldn’t be hard to come up with a reason to meet with him.”
Knots twisted painfully in her stomach. He wasn’t answering her question.
“Weston?” She set a hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to her. “What will he do to us?”
“Not us.” Sadness filled his eyes as he looked at her. “You.”
She pulled her hand back immediately as though she’d been burned. “What?”
“I might not be able to protect you if we do this—and we have to do this.” He exhaled slowly. “If I’m at his estate, there’s no reason I wouldn’t be with him. I won’t be able to get away. The switch would have to be your doing.”
“Me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why not someone else?” Anyone else?
“You’re my pair. Who else would I have accompanying me?” There was an unspoken plea for understanding in his voice. “I can’t do this on my own. I can find a reason to see him at his manor, and I can request that the meeting be held in private, but I cannot make the switch in front of him.” He hesitated. “I promised to protect you. I won’t force you to do this, but I honestly don’t see another option.”
Neither did she.
Sage licked her lips, hating that the plan made sense. Hating that she had to risk Grayson’s wrath when he already seemed to distrust her.
“Ok,” she breathed, “I’ll do it.”
His lips formed a hard line as he nodded once in acknowledgment.
“And if I got caught?” She barely managed to squeak out the words.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Don’t.”
10. COINCIDENCE
Sage drew her hair back into a ponytail, pulling it tight. It was simple, but it would suffice for a day spent poring over journals, copying whatever letters the gems highlighted.
It wasn’t like she needed to look fancy. She probably wouldn’t see anyone other than Eliza all day, and even that would just be if she was thoughtful enough to bring her meals. Weston’s schedule had become impossible to keep track of lately with all the Quorum training requirements on top of his usual responsibilities, so she didn’t expect to see him. Probably. Not that she cared, she reminded herself.
Rolling her eyes at her own indecisive emotions, she tossed a final glance at the mirror, then headed toward the door.
As she reached for the handle, the door flew open on its own—or what she thought was on its own. She staggered back as Weston stormed straight past her into the room.
“Um, sure, come in,” she said sarcastically, ignoring the way her stomach had lurched when he’d brushed past her.
Weston didn’t say anything—didn’t even look at her—just started pacing back and forth in front of her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, dropping the indignant act when she noticed the expression on his face.
“Do you feel like sparring?” He didn’t stop pacing as he spoke. “I could use the practice.”
Her brows bunched together. “What’s—”
“Sage.”
Her name sounded in his throat as a warning. He stopped in front of her, fire behind his eyes as he looked at her.
“Yeah. Ok.” She licked her lips and walked over to the couch without another word. Quickly tugging off her shoes, she stood and faced him.
“Ready,” she said, fighting back the nerves tumbling in her stomach.
Nodding, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it over the nearest chair as he kicked off his own shoes. It took more effort than she cared to admit to keep her eyes fixed on his, not dipping her gaze to his toned chest.
He circled Sage with a look of hunger on his face that unsettled her. She swallowed hard, keeping her hands up as she waited for him to make the first move.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Weston’s heel flew toward her head. She ducked quickly, shooting forward with her arm outstretched, confident she’d connect. She didn’t.
Instead, he caught her arm and twisted, sending her flying through the air, landing hard on her back. Oxygen rushed from her lungs, and she gasped for air. His forearm landed heavy against her throat for just a moment, long enough for them to both know he’d won with little effort.
Drawing back, he gave her a second to catch her breath, then offered her his hand. She looked at it uncertainly before taking it.
“Again,” he said gutturally, popping her back onto her feet.
Rubbing her throat, Sage took another deep breath before nodding. Had he been going easy on her before? It seemed impossible, but he was even better than she remembered.
He didn’t give her long to think about it, though. His fists were already flying toward her, and it was all she could do to deflect and dodge the blows as they came one after another.
&n
bsp; There wasn’t time to think—to form a strategy to counter his attack. She was somewhat aware she was letting herself be herded back, but she didn’t realize how far he’d advanced until her legs knocked against something hard. Wincing as she felt herself being thrown off balance, she fell backward.
Fortunately, she landed on the end of her bed and not one of the hard wooden tables scattered around the room. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she prepared to push herself off the bed and go on the offensive.
Weston paused in front of her. His cool blue eyes roamed slowly over her body, assessing. He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You’re off today,” he said, a note of irritation in his voice.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows and glared at him.
“I wasn’t planning to spar.”
“You should always be prepared for a fight.”
Her eyebrow quirked up. “Maybe so, but I’m not the only one who’s a little off today.”
He stiffened.
“Weston,” she said, softening her tone as she got to her feet, “what’s wrong?”
Staring back at her in silence, he finally ripped his gaze from hers, obviously still unwilling to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. Turning, he reached for his shirt. Sage sucked in a sharp breath when she saw his back. It was covered in scars, still fresh enough to be pink, not yet whitened from time.
Without thinking, she reached out, tracing her fingers along the knots and lines on his back, his shoulders. He reached back, covering her hand with his, stopping her exploration.
“What happened?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer, but he released her hand and turned around, brow furrowed.
She looked back up at him, puzzled. Then, her eyes widened with realization. “The roof—the explosion.”
At the hospitality suite, he’d stepped in front of her, shielding her from the blast. Of course, he would have been hit—would have scars from that. Why had she never considered that before?
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t…”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said stonily as he shrugged on his shirt. “You weren’t the one behind it. And as it turned out, I didn’t make a very good shield.”
A phantom pain raced up her leg where she’d been hit by part of the destroyed building. She wiggled her toes to shake the feeling and frowned. “You’re not seriously blaming yourself for that.”
“I was supposed to protect you, and I didn’t.” He looked away, jaw taut. “Of course I blame myself.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “Someone was trying to kill you. I’m just glad we both made it out of there alive.”
“It was too close,” he growled, flicking his eyes to hers. She froze.
“I don’t blame you,” she said quietly.
“Not for that, but what about everything else?”
“What else?” She blinked in confusion.
His lips curled. “You can’t tell me you’re not upset about being drafted back into a cause that could kill you after you walked away willingly once before. Offering yourself up to myself and Grayson on the hope that you can steal something precious from him and not get caught?”
“Stop it,” she snapped. Chills pricked along the back of her neck. “I don’t know what is going on, but this isn’t like you.”
“You presume to tell me what to do?” He closed the distance between them abruptly, grabbing her arms. She flinched. “Should I take you with me everywhere I go? Tell everyone my pair has become my advisor? Give everyone another reason to question my authority? My competence?”
“Weston, stop.” Her voice only wavered a little, but it sounded steadier than she expected, and she was grateful it didn’t betray just how fast her heart was pounding. “Let me go.”
He looked down at her arms, seeming to notice for the first time that he was holding her so tightly. His eyes filled with shame as he dropped his hands and took a step back.
“The remaining members of the Quorum aren’t faring well,” he said, not meeting her eyes.
“What?” Her brows gathered at the sudden change in topic.
“Two of them are sick. Very suddenly,” he added wryly. “And another has been in a terrible accident—he was thrown from his trailer when it went off its path. It was overturned, and one of the horses got loose and—” He stopped when he saw the horrified look on Sage’s face.
Clearing his throat, he continued a little more tactfully, “The doctors have done all they can, but the accident was horrific. I don’t expect him to live more than a few days. And even if he did manage to survive, he would never be the same. He’s no longer capable of serving on the Quorum, which means another seat has just opened up.”
Sage felt numb. “So Mr. Gaztok decided not to wait.”
Weston’s mouth flattened soberly. “He thinks their current states should be kept a secret from the citizens for now. To prevent a panic.” He laughed. “And who can argue with the man? There’s only one other member of the Quorum left in any sort of shape to disagree, and even given her seniority, one woman can’t overrule his decisions.”
“Ok…” She bit her lip, searching for some way that this news might not be so horrible. “But nothing’s final yet…”
“He’s killing the members of the Quorum and replacing them with his allies. And I am not one of them. I will not sit on the Quorum, but I will be found out.”
“Maybe not, but there’s still a little time to—”
“Don’t you get it, Sage? I can’t protect you.”
For the first time, she thought she saw true fear flash behind his eyes. She stared back at him silently. She’d survived the Institution and Eprah without his help for years. She didn’t need him to protect her, but the way he sounded when he said it wrenched at her heart, leaving it raw.
“You don’t have to. That’s not your job.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s my oath.”
“That’s a stupid reason to care,” she spat. She was trembling, but she wasn’t sure if it was from fear or frustration.
“That’s not the only reason.” He clenched his fists and looked away. Her belly tumbled unexpectedly at his admission. “But your family has done so much for the Lawless. I owe them my best effort at protecting you.”
She sucked in a ragged breath. It felt like he’d just punched a hole in her chest. Had she really misread his meaning so poorly?
Cheeks burning, she looked away. “If his only allies are Kai and Grayson, why would he go after three of the Quorum members at once? That’s more than he could replace right away,” she said, brow furrowing as she focused on Eprah’s problem instead of her own. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Weston slid his gaze toward her. “I’ve wondered about that too. His moves aren’t entirely predictable as of late.”
“Yeah, I think the Quorum would agree with that.” The corner of her mouth twitched into a wry grin. “I don’t think they realized he was going to start appointing their successors quite so soon—or that they’d already become necessary.”
“No,” he murmured thoughtfully. His eyes glazed over. Sage’s heart twisted in pain at his expression—it bore the weight of a thousand other burdens that he was keeping all to himself.
“Ok, so we need to figure out what’s going to happen next.” She crossed her arms, shifting her weight as she tried to draw his attention back to the present. There had to be something she could do to help. “Then, we can make a plan. Figure out how to get ahead of this.”
“That’s not the only thing that concerns me.” Weston frowned, clearly still stuck on Mr. Gaztok’s unexpected political moves. “He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to replace the injured members.”
“Ok.” Sage nodded. “That’s not too much of a surprise. None of you have been preparing for that long, so it’s not like you’re ready to jump into the role…”
His lips puckered like he wanted to say somethin
g more but chose not to.
“So…” she prompted, “which one of the replacements would they choose first?”
“I think Mr. Gaztok is making all the decisions at this point—not the only healthy Quorum member remaining. If she stays that way,” he added ruefully. Rubbing his temples, he slumped into the chair.
“It could be Kai or Grayson,” she suggested.
“It will be Grayson first,” he said without hesitation.
“You don’t know that for—”
“Gaztok and Grayson—not Kai—tried to kill me. It will be Grayson.”
Resentment bubbled under Sage’s skin. Kai didn’t even keep track of all the people he’d killed. He could be just as much a threat to Weston as Grayson was. “How do you know?”
“Know?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. How do you know it wasn’t Kai trying to kill you too?”
Weston waved a hand dismissively. “It wasn’t. Kai has no quarrel with me.”
She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “Maybe not yet, but if you’re direct competition for a seat on the Quorum, I doubt he’d just sit back and let things happen by chance.”
“I agree completely. But Kai wasn’t a candidate for the Quorum until a few weeks ago. He couldn’t have been behind the attack.”
“Yes, he could,” she argued. “Kai’s been Mr. Gaztok’s right hand man for years. If he had any idea of what was going to happen—or, rox, if he was part of Nicholas Pruitt’s death—he could’ve known he’d be nominated soon and that you were the likely competition.” Her lips bunched together with distaste.
“Possible, but doubtful.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a product of the Institution, Sage. He might be an intelligent young man, but he doesn’t have the advantage of a benefactor’s upbringing. The strategy you’re suggesting he’s employing goes far beyond what he was trained for.”
Her shoulders tensed. Why wasn’t he listening to her? “He’s trained with Mr. Gaztok for years now,” she said, barely controlling her anger. “I think that trumps anything the Institution taught him—and he was smart enough to wind up with him in the first place.”