The Founders

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The Founders Page 11

by Dylan Steel


  For a few minutes, nothing happened. Sage’s leg started to go numb beneath her, and she shifted her weight, releasing a tingling rush as she wiggled her toes. She gritted her teeth and adjusted the device in front of her eyes again, ignoring the unpleasant feeling in her leg as best she could.

  Then, a figure stepped out from the far right side of the woods. She watched as he strolled straight into the center of the moonlit clearing, pausing in plain view.

  Dred. Her hand instinctively shot to Weston’s, gripping it so tightly that she barely noticed the reassuring squeeze he returned. What was the Rogue doing here?

  Sage didn’t have to wonder for long. Another figure stepped out of the tree line from the opposite side of the clearing. His face wasn’t turned toward them at first, but when he shot a few furtive glances around the clearing before stepping toward the center, she sucked in a breath. It was the Dignitary of the Peace.

  And he didn’t look happy to be there.

  The Dignitary stormed to the center of the clearing where the Rogue stood. “You’re the trazk who’s been leaving me messages? Who are you?” he demanded.

  Sage’s jaw dropped. Not only could she see them clearly, but she could hear them as clearly as if she were standing right beside them. Her fingers unconsciously drifted to touch the device at the back of her ear.

  “My name doesn’t matter.” Dred pushed up his sleeves and held up both his wrists, showing they were bare.

  “A Rogue?” the dignitary hissed. He spun on his heel. “I don’t deal with Rogues.”

  “You’ll deal with me,” Dred said in a low voice filled with a warning, stopping the dignitary before he took another step to leave. “Unless you want the Quorum and your subordinates to know how you spend your time off.” He held his hand up, revealing a small disc.

  “You’re bluffing. That could be anything.” The dignitary held his head high, but watching through the lenses, Sage could see a glint of worry flash in his eyes.

  “Anything? Really? Well, that’s interesting…” Dred’s amused tone suddenly lowered, switching to something much more serious. “But it’s not just anything, is it? Or you wouldn’t be here.”

  The dignitary narrowed his eyes at the Rogue.

  Dred took a step closer, pulling another circular device from his pocket. He hovered the disc over its center. “I’d be happy to prove it.”

  Sage felt the lenses being pulled from her face before she realized what was happening. She shot Weston a dirty look and held out her hand so that he would return the device, but he just shook his head, sadness tinging his expression.

  No, he mouthed.

  Tossing a final glare at him, she squinted through the canopy of darkness, trying to make out what was happening on her own, but without the lenses the two men were merely tiny, unrecognizable figures from this distance. Light flickered above Dred’s hand for a moment, but Sage couldn’t see whatever was playing from the disc. From the sounds of it, though… She shuddered. Maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t able to see what was going on.

  “Enough,” the dignitary growled. “I believe you.”

  “Good.”

  The light flickered off, and Weston handed Sage back the lenses. She pressed them to her face in time to see the hatred on the Dignitary’s face as he stared at his blackmailer.

  “Is that the only copy?”

  “You know it’s not. I’m not stupid.”

  “With what you’re trying to pull right now, that’s debatable.” The Dignitary’s lips twitched. “What do you want?”

  “Unfettered, untraceable access to the central communications systems for the city.”

  Sage’s eyes widened. That’s why they were here—what this was all about. She popped the device off her nose just long enough to steal a sideways glance at her benefactor, but his attention was glued to the events unfolding in the clearing. Facing forward again, she put the lenses back on.

  “You’re insane.” The Dignitary laughed. “There’s no way I can give you that.”

  “Of course you can. Do you think I would waste my time with the wrong person?” Annoyance crept into Dred’s tone. “You’re in charge of communications’ security.”

  The Dignitary took a step closer, growling. “Which is exactly why I can’t do it. They’d have more than my title. They’d have my head.”

  “Oh, I doubt that very much, Dignitary,” Dred said, completely unconcerned by how close he was standing. “You must be a clever man to have made it to your position. I’m sure you can come up with a plausible explanation for a breach in security.”

  “You’re asking for something impossible,” he snapped.

  “This isn’t a negotiation.” Dred looked almost bored. “You will provide access, or this disc will be distributed to all interested parties. And you will do so within the next eighteen hours.”

  “Eighteen ho—you’re insane!”

  “No, Dignitary. I’m simply on a schedule. And that schedule won’t change no matter how much time you waste standing here trying to argue with me over it. You have my terms.”

  Murderous rage flashed behind the Dignitary’s eyes.

  “I’ll be in touch soon. And I’ll require your answer when I do.” Dred turned and walked away, leaving the Dignitary behind in the clearing, fuming alone.

  The Dignitary didn’t wait long before heading back into the trees, leaving a trail of expletives behind him as his footsteps faded into the forest.

  Sage peeled off her lenses again, rolling to the side so she could face Weston. He listened to the woods for a few more moments before relaxing, then mirrored her movements. She locked eyes with him, shifting back a little uncertainly.

  “That’s what was on the disc. That day we were in his office. You knew what was there, and you copied it,” she said softly.

  Pursing his lips, he gave a slight nod.

  “So what now?”

  He let out a slow breath before answering. “Now, we wait eighteen hours.”

  “And what if he doesn’t give us access?”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. “He’ll give us access.”

  14. PUBLIC

  Whatever was on the blackmail disc must’ve been bad. Really bad.

  The Dignitary didn’t even hesitate when Dred contacted him again—or at least, that’s what Weston told Sage. He turned over all the access codes and protocols as well as a handful of options of where to broadcast a message from—places that would be undetectable by their systems.

  That’s why they were going into the city today. And why they were sneaking in using the underground tunnels instead of entering through the main gates. And why Weston looked nothing like his normal, refined self. Today, his eyes were lined with kohl, and cuffs graced his ear and brow. He’d spent a couple days letting his usual scruff grow into an unkempt beard, and instead of a tailored suit, he was wearing a bulky coat that served as much for warmth in the fading winter as it did for the tech that lined its inner pockets.

  “Aren’t you worried we’re gonna get caught?” Sage asked for the hundredth time.

  Weston flicked his gaze back over his shoulder. He paused and turned around to face her fully, his eyebrows bunching together as he lifted her hood over her head. “Not as long as you remember to keep that up.”

  “Didn’t think it mattered yet,” she mumbled, tugging her hood forward around her ears. Besides, the hood seemed like overkill. No one could possibly recognize her under the thick layer of makeup she was wearing. A few skilled strokes of the brush, and her face didn’t even look like its normal shape anymore.

  “Better to be prepared a little early than to be caught unaware.” He adjusted his own hat over his face, casting a shadow over his subtly disguised features. He took off again, not waiting for her to follow.

  The tunnels were almost exactly the same as she remembered—cold, damp, dim, and definitely creepy—which was probably why she kept slipping her hood back down. Having it up cut off her peripheral vision, making her f
eel far more vulnerable than she liked.

  Sage slipped on a patch of wet stone, nearly turning her ankle. Her nose wrinkled as she hurried to catch up.

  “Remind me again why we couldn’t just ask the Rogues to do this too?” She winced. She hadn’t meant to sound so whiny.

  “You know why.” He kept his voice low and pressed forward without slowing. “Most Rogues don’t have many tech skills—or at least not your tech skills. If the Dignitary left out any details, deliberately or otherwise…” His eyes flicked back to her, gauging her reaction. “We need someone there who can work through any surprises that might arise.”

  She rolled her eyes, stepping wide around a puddle. “And I just happened to be the only tech you knew?”

  “The only one available on such short notice, or I obviously would’ve gone with someone else,” he said, a note of teasing in his voice.

  “Hey!” She closed the gap between them quickly so she could swat him on the arm. “You need me.”

  “That’s debatable.” The corner of his lip twitched upward.

  “Oh, please. Just admit it. You. Need. Me,” she said, punctuating each word with a poke.

  He grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her before she could jab him again. “I do,” he said seriously, his blue eyes piercing hers with his gaze. “And I’m glad you’re doing this with me.”

  Her stomach tumbled rebelliously. “Well, good,” she said, grateful she managed to keep her voice steady. Her eyes slipped down to his hand which was still clasped around her wrist, then flicked back to his face. “Because I’m sure it would’ve been awfully suspicious to pull someone out of their job so they could go hack the entire communication network.”

  His lips twitched for a moment before he released her and continued forward again. “Especially if everyone else knew why they were being pulled from their job.”

  “Obviously,” she said, scrambling to catch up.

  “But of course, no one would—” Weston stopped abruptly.

  “What is it?” she whispered, trying to shove down a rising sense of panic.

  He held up a hand, listening. His brow furrowed as he stared down the length of darkness in front of them. He tilted his head, then clapped a hand over her mouth, pushing her back against the wall. Sage’s eyes widened, following his gaze down the tunnel. She still couldn’t see anything.

  Putting a finger to her lips, he lowered his other hand to her waist and dipped his mouth to her neck. Her eyes widened in surprise. She stiffened and balled her hands against his chest, starting to push him away.

  “Sage, please,” he said softly, a trace of desperation in his voice.

  She froze, unsure what to do—unsure why Weston was suddenly acting like this. Sure, he was attractive, and maybe she’d even developed feelings for him, but this was too sudden, too unexpected, too—

  Every argument flew from her mind as soon as she felt his breath rolling over her skin, enveloping her in warmth. Her eyes fluttered closed as butterflies danced in her stomach. For a moment as he brushed his lips against her throat, nothing else mattered. In the back of her mind, she knew she was supposed to be quiet, but it didn’t seem important anymore—not when he was doing that. Without thinking, she let out a soft moan and tangled her fingers in his shirt, pressing closer to him. He let out a low growl, digging his fingers into her waist.

  A familiar jolt raced through her body, shattering the moment. She jerked back, unable to stop her head from thudding against the wall.

  “Ow!” Wincing, she grabbed the back of her skull.

  Weston flinched at the same time. His fingers flexed, gravitating toward his bracelet for an instant before he stopped himself.

  Sorry, he mouthed, meeting her eyes.

  Sage’s brows dipped in confusion. He was sorry? Because he’d kissed her? Because she’d lost a Chance? But had she really just lost a Chance? They were alone down here, and Weston hadn’t stripped it—he’d been too busy holding onto her and…

  She swallowed, trying to clear her mind. If anything—it looked like Weston had just had a Chance stripped too. But then who—

  “What are you two doing down here?” A man’s voice echoed toward them.

  Weston spun around to face the other man. He stayed close to Sage, keeping her behind himself.

  “W-we didn’t mean any harm,” Weston stammered.

  Sage barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping. She’d never heard Weston come across as anything other than confident, especially to citizens beneath his station—which was pretty much everyone in Eprah. The truth crashed into her hard, stealing the breath from her lungs.

  It’s all an act.

  The closeness, the affection—and now Weston’s feigned uncertainty—it was all for the benefit of these strangers. Just another part of their disguise.

  She shrank back, crimson staining her cheeks at the realization. It was foolish of her to think he actually cared about her like that.

  “Why are you down here?” The man demanded again.

  “We were just… her pair doesn’t know we…” Weston’s gaze skittered up and down the tunnel as he licked his lips. “It’s private here.”

  “Don’t have a death wish, eh?” The man’s lips curled into a sneer. “Then the tunnels are the last place you should be. They’re restricted to appropriately registered workers. And I’m assuming you don’t have the right creds to be here.”

  “Please, sir. We can be on our way. You don’t have to—”

  “Aw, give ‘em a break, Z. They’re not hurting anything.” A second man’s voice echoed close by. Sage peeked out over Weston’s shoulder and saw two uniformed men carrying a limp body between them. Beautification workers. Her stomach roiled.

  “W-we’re not,” Weston said. “And we’ll leave now.” He grabbed Sage’s hand and took a tentative step forward.

  The first man narrowed his eyes, clearly deliberating whether to let them loose or teach them a lesson that they could take with them to their graves. Sage’s blood ran cold at the conflicting desires scrawled across his face.

  “I don’t wanna carry any extras today, Z,” the second man growled.

  “Fine,” the first man snapped back at him. He turned his attention back to Weston, switching his gaze between him and Sage. “See to it that you don’t use these tunnels again.” He squeezed his bracelet, stripping another Chance from each of them for emphasis.

  Sage’s hands curled at her sides as electricity jolted through her body, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “Yes, sir.” Weston tugged Sage forward until they were almost running away from the Beautification workers. “Thank you, sir.”

  Grumbled obscenities echoed down the tunnel after them, but they didn’t slow down until the men’s voices faded in the distance. Even once they could no longer hear the men behind them, neither of them spoke for several minutes—not until they were certain they were alone again.

  Tossing a final glance over her shoulder, Sage let out a slow breath, allowing the tension to drain from her shoulders.

  “Why didn’t you just…” She stopped herself, frowning at the morbid question she’d been about to ask.

  Weston released his hold on her, rubbing his fingers along the sides of his bracelet as they rounded the corner. “Strip all their Chances?” He threw her a sideways glance as she nodded, ashamed of how quickly the solution had seemed acceptable.

  “It’s a last resort,” he said calmly. “Their deaths would look too suspicious, and the last thing we need is someone combing through all the surveillance records down here right before we commit treason.”

  “But did you have to kiss me?” she asked sharply. She winced. That hadn’t come out in nearly the even tone that she’d hoped it would.

  He hesitated, shooting her an uncertain look that quickly morphed into one of indifference. “I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said a little coldly. “Perhaps the next time we’re nearly caught, I’ll have time to come up with a better idea.”

&
nbsp; Sage wrinkled her brow at his sudden iciness, but she didn’t get a chance to say anything else before they turned another corner. Weston stopped abruptly and reached toward the top of the tunnel, scraping his hands against the ceiling until a short ladder dropped down. He paused, putting a hand on one of the rungs.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” she said softly.

  Following at his heels, she blinked in the daylight when her head popped up out of the tunnel. She scrambled out of the hole, squinting as she looked around. Based on the lack of crowds and piles of junk, she knew they were in an alley somewhere, but the city was huge. She didn’t recognize it.

  Gravel scraped the ground behind her, and she spun around defensively, hands in the air, then gasped.

  “You.”

  A woman with dark, curly hair stood in front of them, hands on her hips as she stared Sage down. It was the same woman who’d given them a place to rest and helped them escape through the tunnels a few months ago after the hospitality suite was attacked.

  “Yes, me, sweetheart.” She rolled her eyes. “Glad to see you can walk again. And that you finally chose the right side.”

  “The right—”

  “She means Lawless,” Weston explained brusquely, pulling a handful of tech from his jacket pockets.

  Sage frowned at the woman. “You’re Lawless?”

  She snorted. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. It’s Clarette.” She stuck out her hand.

  Sage took it reluctantly. “Sage. But you—”

  “We don’t have time for introductions. She’s our lookout.” Weston swept a hand over the portable tech table he’d just set up.

  Sage snapped her mouth closed. Something she’d said was obviously bothering him, but this wasn’t the time to talk about it.

  “I need you to watch everything I do. Make sure the Dignitary gave us what we needed.”

  “Right.”

  Clarette kept her hands loose at her side, ready to fight as she took up a post in front of them, blocking them from view while she watched the edges of a pile of trash obscuring the alley entrance. Sage only hesitated a moment before stepping beside Weston, watching as he seamlessly initiated the sequence the Dignitary had given them.

 

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