Disobedience

by Kaitlyn Andersen

  At his chuckle, her hands fist in the blankets beneath her. She feels his hot breath in her ear.

  “I’ve been very patient, dove, but I’m afraid I’ve plumb run out. It’s long past time for you to show me what you’re capable of, don’t you think?”

  Finn can no longer hold back a whine of fear. The knife moves lower, stopping at her sternum. He flicks his wrist, and it slices deep. She screams, her voice cracking from the force of it.

  “You can stop this, child,” he whispers. “All you have to do is show me what you are.”

  He is still busy cutting when Finn hears a click. She opens her eyes and looks up. Sophie is standing behind the chancellor, pointing his own gun at his back. Tears are streaming down her face and her hands are shaking.

  He turns and growls at her.

  “What do you think you’re doing, you little bitch?”

  She sobs and looks at Finn with wild eyes.

  Finn sits still, too shocked to move. Sophie doesn’t notice that the chancellor is stalking toward her. She is crying too hard and doesn’t seem to be able to make the gun fire. The chancellor’s spine is rigid, and Finn can see he is beyond angry. Sophie will suffer for this interruption. When he reaches her, she breaks down, dropping the gun and falling to her knees.

  His roar fills the room and snaps Finn out of her stupor. He throws Sophie against the wall, his hand gripping her throat tightly.

  “You will pay for that.”

  Sophie can’t breathe. Her face is turning purple. At the sight, anger unlike any she’s ever known fills Finn, and she gets up from the bed. He doesn’t notice her creep over and pick up the gun. He doesn’t see her pointing it at him. It’s so heavy her arms shake just trying to hold it up.

  “Leave her alone.”

  He turns and bares his teeth at her in a cold smile, bringing Sophie in front of him. She is gasping for air, reaching out for Finn, but he holds her tight.

  “That’s right, dove. If you want someone to stop, you have to make them. Show me what you are.”

  He moves toward her slowly, Sophie still in front of him. All she can do is take small steps backward to maintain her distance.

  “P—please stop. Don’t come any closer.”

  He doesn’t listen, just watches Finn like the predator he is as he stalks closer and closer still. Sophie is crying out her name, and Finn can’t stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. She doesn’t know what to do. He’s getting too close. She takes another big step back, hitting the bed and losing her balance. Her finger slips on the trigger.

  There is a deafening crack, and Finn is thrown backward. She lays in stunned silence for a moment. Then she sits up, her eyes searching to find Sophie’s. When she does, she can see they are dull and glassy. She is staring into nothingness, a red stain blooming on the front of her pink dress. The chancellor’s brow is raised, but no anger flushes his face. He lets out a surprised chuckle. Finn barely hears him over the pounding in her ears.

  “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

  He drops Sophie on the floor. She hits with a thud, unmoving. Finn’s throat feels dry, and she is having trouble getting air.

  No, she can’t be dead. Finn didn’t kill her . . . she didn’t!

  “Sophie! Sophie, wake up!”

  There is a high-pitched wailing filling the room. After a moment, when her throat starts to burn, Finn realizes the sound is coming from her.

  Sophie doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. No breaths enter or leave her gaping mouth.

  He kicks her body with the toe of a black boot.

  “It’s a shame. I paid good money for her. Oh well, there’s always more where she came from.”

  His eyes are gleaming, and he’s walking toward her, hands reaching out to touch her. The room spins. Her body is starting to tingle all over, like maybe this is all just a dream. Her legs feel like they’re going to give out, but she can’t let them. He’s still coming.

  Finn raises the gun again and aims it at his chest. He stops and raises his hands in supplication. She doesn’t think, just pulls the trigger. The force has her stumbling backward again. When she lifts her gaze, he is on his knees, clutching his bleeding chest. For the first time in two cycles, Finn sees fear in his eyes.

  Finn takes in the scene before her with a silent scream, allowing one last look at Sophie’s lifeless body. Her only friend is dead. She killed her. She is a monster, just like him. She chokes back a sob and drops the gun. Then she runs through the open cell door.

  Finn bolted upright in bed. Sweat dripped from her brow and her chest rose and fell with heavy pants.

  No matter how far or how fast she fled, she couldn’t outrun the memories of that night.

  The sound of quiet whimpering pulled Finn from her thoughts and she turned, searching for the source of the sound. It took her a moment before she realized the desperate cries were coming from Enyo.

  She recognized the agonized sounds for what they were.

  The Sirian was in the throes of a nightmare.

  “Enyo,” Finn whispered, hoping to wake her as gently as possible.

  Enyo’s whimpers became sobs of distress, but still she did not wake. Moving quickly, Finn got out of bed, turned the lights to a low dim, and crouched next to the sleeping Sirian’s side.

  “Enyo, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

  When she still didn’t wake, Finn looked at her own hands helplessly; she’d removed her gloves before falling asleep.

  Not having to worry about my powers would sure come in handy right now, she thought darkly.

  Taking care not to touch the Sirian’s fur, Finn grasped the nightshirt covering her shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.

  “Come on, Enyo. It’s time to wake up.”

  Enyo’s answer was a gut-wrenching scream that came from deep within her belly and echoed throughout the room around them. All at once, the Sirian shot up, her claws extending as she grabbed Finn’s bare forearms before she could move away.

  Finn’s last word before everything around her faded to black was a harshly muttered, “Shit.”

  It is dark.

  Finn does her best to tamp down on the panic rising in her chest, but she is unsuccessful.

  The walls of Independence have faded around them, morphing into the jagged, hard crags of a cave. Looking around, Finn can see that it is a whole system of caves, spanning out before her. Mounted torches illuminate wide tunnels extending north, south, east, and west.

  She turns to find Enyo seated upon a straw mat on the hard floor of the cave. A small fire burns brightly beside her. She is young, maybe fourteen, and while her eyes still carry the hard gleam of a warrior, they lack the cold, emotionless glint that has been present since she and Finn first met.

  A giant, full-blooded Sirian female stands over her, regarding Enyo with pride.

  “You have done well, my daughter. The tribe views you as a mighty and worthy N’Goza, as they should.”

  At the praise, Enyo’s mouth curves in a soft smile she tries to hide.

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  “Do not thank me yet, child. You are a formidable hybrid, and now that the tribe knows your worth, their expectations will be high and their hearts less forgiving of shortfalls.”

  “I will not let them down, Mother,” Enyo promises with a fervent whisper.

  The older Sirian nods her head once in acknowledgement before turning and making her way down one of the cave’s many tunnels. Enyo’s gaze follows her mother’s retreating form before she allows herself to settle next to the fire. Her determined whisper reaches Finn a moment later.

  “I will not let them down.”

  Suddenly, the caves around them disappear and Finn is standing on a rocky cliff as three Reliance hover pods circle overhead. The wind whips her hair around her face, the force of its shrill whistle filling her ears like a siren. It takes a moment for her to get her bearings enough to locate Enyo.

  The Sirian hybrid has been collar
ed. Several Reliance soldiers hold her by the arms and legs. She kicks, hisses, and fights for freedom, but to no avail.

  “Kunyamen!” She yells into the wind, her eyes focused intently on something behind Finn. Finn turns and follows her line of sight to a Sirian soldier watching the struggle unfold, his brown lips twisted in a sneer.

  “Not so special now, are you, little mutt,” he growls.

  Enyo shrieks, an equal mix of rage and terror, but the wind swallows the sound. One of the soldiers makes a closed fist, the movement charging the stunner glove on his right hand. Lights above his knuckles—from index to pinky—begin to glow and with a twitch of his fingers, he sends a blast straight into Enyo’s chest.

  Her body goes limp, the pods descend, and the soldiers drag her inside the nearest one.

  Finn’s eyes snapped open and a scream she barely managed to contain clung to the inside of her throat. She looked down to find Enyo had released her, leaving a semicircle of claw marks leaking blood from her forearm. Glancing around the room, she found the female in the corner, her knees tucked up to her chest, multihued hair cascading down her shoulders, and her arms wrapped around her shins.

  The sight made Finn’s chest ache. How many nights had she spent alone in the exact same position?

  Too many to count.

  Before she could go to the Sirian, the doors to the room hissed open and Finn looked up to see Conrad’s tense body filling the doorway. He had on a tank top and a pair of shorts. His dreads fell down around his shoulders, sticking up in places and looking adorably mussed from sleep.

  She went to him immediately, hoping to prevent his presence from upsetting Enyo further. When she reached him, his concerned glowing eyes landed on her injured arm.

  “You’re hurt,” he said, as his angry gaze flashed over to Enyo.

  “I’m fine, Conrad,” she breathed. She ushered him quickly through the doorway and out into the hall. “Enyo just had a bad dream.”

  The hard expression on his face softened infinitesimally as understanding replaced the anger in his blue eyes. Their glow dimmed, and he took a deep breath before releasing it.

  “I heard screaming,” he murmured. “I thought it was you.”

  Lines of worry etched his brow and tightened the muscles of his jaw. She inched closer into him, her body moving of its own accord.

  “It wasn’t me.” Finn released a humorless laugh. “Not this time anyway.”

  He frowned and looked over her head back into the bedroom.

  “Is she okay?”

  “She will be.” Finn followed his stare. “I just need some time with her.”

  His eyes found hers again, drinking in the sight of her with an intensity she couldn’t quite define. Again, her mind conjured up images of touching him; a gentle caress of her skin against his that wouldn’t send her careening down a path of dark memories. Gooseflesh spread over her arms and chest in response and her heart began to race.

  After a moment, Conrad’s stare fell back down to the blood still dripping freely from her arm and seemed to get stuck there.

  “At least let me send Isis to tend to your arm.”

  “All right,” Finn whispered her agreement. “Just give us some time alone first.”

  Conrad’s mouth twitched in a tight smile.

  “Convincing you to do things is much easier than it used to be.”

  At his jest, Finn rolled her eyes and muttered, “Will you get out of here already?”

  Conrad’s eyes warmed as their glow once again began to wash over her.

  “Good night, Hellion.”

  “Good night, Conrad.”

  With that, he turned and strode down the hallway. Finn watched him until he was out of sight before heading back inside her room, ignoring the flutter of emotion cascading through her.

  With some trepidation, she made her way over to where Enyo still sat on the floor, huddled in a ball. Slowly, Finn took a seat on the ground next to her and leaned back against the wall.

  Eventually, Enyo raised her head and met Finn’s stare. Finn’s stomach clenched at the unmasked pain she saw in the Sirian’s eyes.

  “Something happened when we touched,” Enyo breathed, her voice raw from screaming.

  Finn stretched her legs out in front of her, crossed her feet at the ankles, and eyed her hands warily like they might belong to someone else.

  “Sorry about that,” she told Enyo. “I’m still trying to figure these abilities out.”

  Belatedly, the Sirian seemed to notice Finn’s bloody arm. Her body tensed and the muscles in her face tightened. “I hurt you.”

  Her tawny eyes began to shine as she gritted her fangs in frustration.

  Finn rushed to reassure her.

  “I’m fine. Isis will heal me later. No harm done.”

  At Finn’s encouraging nod, Enyo’s body relaxed a fraction. Letting go of her knees, she mirrored Finn’s posture and stretched her legs out before her.

  “It will not happen again, N’Goza.”

  Finn raised her brows and offered Enyo a sardonic half smile.

  “Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

  A few more beats of silence passed before Enyo broke it.

  “They came at night,” she muttered, her eyes drilling holes into the floor. “They crept their way through our tunnels like they had been there a million times before and slaughtered my people while they slept.”

  Finn swallowed hard. Enyo needed her to be strong, but damn if her hands didn’t shake from the effort of holding in the storm of emotions the hybrid’s story evoked.

  “You were betrayed by another Sirian?” Finn asked, remembering the soldier and his menacing smile.

  Enyo studied her through the corner of her eye before answering. “You saw that?”

  At Finn’s nod, she continued, her face pensive. “My people are proud. We do not care for or about the Reliance and their Arcturians. Since the unionization, we have kept to ourselves, building our cities underground within the northern caves of Siri, Tesla, and Gliese where the Reliance could never find us.” Enyo brought her knees back up, letting her elbows rest across their peaks. “It is a rare occurrence, but warriors who lack honor or possess weak wills bring shame to the tribe. They are banished, never to return to their people or families.”

  Finn worried her bottom lip at the revelation. It seemed as though the Sirians placed as much importance on honor as the Khaleerians did. There was so much she didn’t know about the Sirians; so much the rest of the worlds had gotten wrong.

  Did this ignorance extend to other alien races as well?

  “More often than not,” Enyo continued, “the exiles seek out the Reliance. Joining their army is the closest thing to a tribe many of them will ever find, but none before have ever betrayed our locations or way of life to the Reliance . . . until that kunyamen, Argo.”

  “What happened?” The question fell from Finn’s lips before she could stop herself.

  “Argo was my mother’s child and my half brother. She bore him to our chieftain years before I was born. He was ordinary; neither too strong nor too weak to really stand out. For the son of a chieftain, such mediocrity is considered disgraceful. It made him mean and jealous of those stronger than him. There were times when his cruelty nearly got him banished, but it wasn’t until he expressed his desire to venture out into the worlds away from our people that the moment finally came. Sirians believe we gain our strength from the earth. It is why we do not like flying. The closer we are to the ground, the greater our power. When the chieftain learned of his desire and could not dissuade him from it, he was cast out, free to follow his whims in exchange for exile from his tribe.” Enyo swallowed hard, her face darkening in anger. “It was only a matter of months before he betrayed our people to the Reliance and sold me into slavery.”

  She’d been handed over by her own brother. Finn knew firsthand the kind of mark such a betrayal left behind in its wake. She hoped wherever the traitorous Sirian was now, he was suffering.


  “I’m so sorry, Enyo.”

  “It is over now,” Enyo huffed, refusing to meet Finn’s gaze. “You touched me and saw my memories. That is a powerful gift, N’Goza.”

  Finn noted the abrupt subject change, but she didn’t force the issue. Instead, she exhaled a breath and muttered, “I don’t know if I’d call it a gift.”

  Enyo finally allowed herself to look at Finn. Her eyes were shining and the hope Finn glimpsed there hit her hard like a punch to the stomach.

  “Still, is there a way you could use it to erase my memories of that night?”

  Finn’s breath caught in her lungs and refused to release.

  “I’m sorry, Enyo. I don’t know how to do that.”

  “Then, it is not impossible?” the Sirian persisted.

  “I don’t know,” Finn answered quietly.

  The conversation died with her admission.

  Ten minutes later, when Isis had arrived to tend to her wounds, Finn was still thinking about Enyo’s question. Even if she couldn’t erase the warrior’s memories, what if there was a way to use her gifts to help the Sirian? What if Finn could learn to control her abilities and use them for good?

  She loathed the idea of working with Iliana, but perhaps time with her sister was a necessary evil if it meant she could have the power to help Enyo and others like her. As Conrad had already pointed out, Finn’s stubborn nature was no longer a luxury she could afford.

  She groaned as the weight of her decision settled deep within the confines of her chest.

  THIRTEEN

  “Focus, AJ.”

  Finn reached out a gloved hand to pull the boy up from the crumpled heap she’d just left him in.

  That morning, she’d awoken feeling stronger and more level-headed than she had in recent memory. Now that she had a plan, control over her abilities was becoming more of an eventuality than an abstract idea. Calm had settled over her, chasing away the remaining dregs of anxiety.

  As promised, that morning AJ had been eagerly waiting for her outside her door.