Dark Horizons (The Red Sector Chronicles)

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Dark Horizons (The Red Sector Chronicles) Page 3

by Krystle Jones


  “Don’t worry,” Paris said, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil, since I had my back to her. “As head doctor, I have top level security clearance. I’ll go down there and procure a fresh sample.”

  Mutely, I nodded, the action feeling very tense and robotic because my mind was still wrapped around finding out my brother was alive.

  Even greater was the prospect of not having Aden in my life by the end of the week. Since when had I grown to care so much about him?

  A man’s voice came on over the intercom, paging Paris. “I must go,” she said, casting one more worried glance at Aden before walking toward the door. “Stay here and try not to screw anything up,” she added wryly, though there wasn’t as much venom behind it.

  I blinked, giving her a small smile back. Ever since I met her, Paris and I hated each other, and now it was as if Aden’s endangered health had made us allies. It was funny how a crisis had that effect on people.

  Paris was almost to the door when two lines of soldiers marched in. With an indignant look on her face, she was forced to step back or be trampled as they surrounded the room and aimed their guns right at us.

  I immediately crouched into a defensive position, ready to strike at the first available chance.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Paris demanded.

  Heavy footfalls approached, and we both looked up as Rook walked in, his expression hard as stone.

  Rook had been friends with my brother and I back in our “human” lives. He was a tank, with dark skin, dreads, and rolling muscles. He was also a complete teddy bear. At first, I thought his stony expression was for show until he said, “As decreed by the supreme chancellor, General Frost, you, Dr. Paris De Lange, Sergeant McAllister, and Captain Knight, are under arrest for treason against the empire.”

  CHAPTER 3

  I blinked. “What?”

  The soldiers shifted uneasily. Red laser beams crisscrossed the air as they honed in on me. I should have been worried about the increasing number of red dots on my chest, but all I could think of was that they wanted to take Aden away.

  The calm façade never left Rook’s face. His eyes were perfectly emotionless as he addressed me. “You are to come with us immediately. The Council requests your presence.”

  “Screw the Council,” I growled, feeling my fangs elongate at the prospect of bloodshed. I moved in front of the bed, blocking Aden from view. “You’re not taking him anywhere.”

  The soldiers glanced at each other; some of them were even growling, their fingers rattling against their triggers, itching to pull them.

  “Stop it!” Paris screamed at me, her hands in the air. “You’re going to get us all killed!”

  I saw my reflection in one of the men’s helmets. My eyes were glowing red. It felt like fire was running through my veins, as if my anger and passion had become lava. “You will not take him,” I snarled, my voice morphing into something not quite animal or human.

  “Sloane.”

  My gaze jerked to the side, wild and feral, as Rook stepped forward. “We mean you no harm. But if you try to deter us, we will have no choice but to fight back – by any means necessary.”

  It was there, in his eyes; a flicker of doubt and…

  Fear.

  That sent me hurtling back into my human self. My fangs retracted and I let out a deep, shaky breath. A wave of cold dizziness washed through me, but when I started to sway, I gritted my teeth and grounded myself. The last thing I needed to do was appear weak.

  It was barely noticeable, but Rook’s shoulders slackened a fraction. He motioned with a jerk of his head, and the guards closed in on me, approaching with caution like they would a rabid dog.

  Reining in my instinct to fight back, I let them take me by the arms, and pull me forward and out the door. I glanced back over my shoulder, seeing them cuffing Aden as they yanked him out of bed. I growled. “Be careful with him!” I shouted as they shoved me out into the hallway, followed by a disgruntled Paris. Her beautiful eyes flared, and she looked even more pissed than usual.

  The fighter in me screamed to take these guys down, grab Aden, and bolt, but with so many of them, I knew we’d never make it to the exit. Rook would have us cornered before I had a chance to drag Aden very far, not to mention in his state, he would only slow us down.

  With no other options left, I steeled my resolve and let them escort us away to face the Council.

  ***

  Somehow, I had forgotten how ominous the Council building looked.

  It rose all the way to the domed ceiling, the largest structure in the Syndicate’s underground base. I swallowed hard, seeing my reflection in the black glass as the guards led me up to the doors, punched in some more codes, and pushed me inside once the door had slid open.

  The interior was arranged like a big maze, with doors and hallways no one would even see until they were upon them. Black was kind of a theme with the Council; everything, from the walls to the ceiling and floors, was black. The little white lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling provided the only contrast, barely providing enough light to see. The place seemed to suck away all light – and hope – one might have, which I had a feeling was the desired effect.

  They had jerked Paris’s and Aden’s masks off, saying “Frost would want to see our sunny faces.” After winding through the halls for what seemed like a small eternity, we paused before a set of polished black doors. Rook stepped in front of us, giving two loud knocks. I took the chance to sneak a peek at Aden and Paris. Paris’s jaw was clenched, and her eyes were firmly fixed forward, while Aden –

  I stopped breathing.

  He was slumped forward, his skin completely broken out in sweat. His shirt clung to his chest, revealing the outline of muscles beneath. Normally, I would have preferred that look on a hot guy, but the fact he appeared that way because he was gravely ill carved out a hollow feeling inside my chest. He was trying hard to keep his face composed. I could tell because the clue to how he was really feeling was in his eyes; they had a pinched look to them, suggesting all he wanted to do was scream.

  Heart sinking to my stomach, I snapped my gaze back around as the doors swung open and an explosion of sound slammed into me.

  My eyes widened slightly as they marched us inside. I scanned the large, circular room, watching in amazement as the twelve members of the Council, all sitting on their high chairs, argued fervently with one another. Most of them had on masks and looked like they too had just come straight from the New Year’s Eve gala, which I had opted not to attend. I suddenly felt very out of place in my dark jeans, deep purple sweater, and black Chucks.

  For the most part, none of the council members even seemed to realize we were there, except for two familiar faces.

  The first was a welcome sight. Mrs. Knight was in the middle of a conversation, the only person who didn’t look like she was on the verge of spontaneously combusting with anger, when her eyes flickered up and caught mine. Aden’s mom kind of resembled a younger Martha Stewart, with fair hair the same shade as her son’s and a pretty, kind face. Her eyes brightened, like she was smiling at me, though I couldn’t see her mouth because of the mask. She paled when her eyes landed on her son.

  Guilt punched me hard in the gut. If Aden hadn’t been trying to rescue me, he might not be in this position in the first place. The fact I needed rescuing at all still didn’t set well with me. I mentally kept replaying the time when Orion’s men had busted into Aden’s apartment to get me; I could have tried harder, fought harder, done anything to keep us out of the mess we now found ourselves in.

  A woman pointedly cleared her throat, interrupting my brooding, and my eyes landed on a slender female whose gaze could freeze over hell.

  My eyes narrowed into a glare, and I pressed my lips together to keep from hissing.

  General Frost looked down on me from her middle seat, with all the affection of one looking at a cockroach she was about to crush. She was one of three council members, I noted, who were n
ot wearing masks. Her silver hair was swept up in a tight bun, giving her wrinkled face a “pulled” look. She wore the same jacket and skirt combination all the women on the base had to wear, only hers was made from gold silk. It was the exact same outfit I’d seen on her when we first met, and I wondered if she owned any other items of clothing. A diamond forget-me-not was pinned to her lapel, the “Mark of the Creator,” or the symbol of the first vampire king. It was also the same shape of the birthmark on my collarbone, right above my heart. Orion had one, too, at the same place on his body.

  The first time Frost and I met, it hadn’t been pleasant. With my identity as a vampire hunter revealed, she had tortured me in an effort to pull information out of me, since she was convinced I had infiltrated their base to try to kill them. Aden had managed to convince her not to execute me, and so I had become her prisoner, of sorts.

  The feeling of being chained and prodded by Scarlet Steel sent a bolt of fear through me. But I kept my expression guarded, not wanting Frost to see me as weak. She would only use the opportunity to pounce on me.

  Immediately, the noise in the room died down and everyone finally looked at us, as if just noticing they were not alone. I tried to keep my face from flushing as the council members eyed us up and down, the soldiers lining us up side by side. Paris stood in the middle. I wanted to be closer to Aden in case I needed to help him, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

  “Sloane McAllister.”

  My attention snapped forward at the cold voice addressing me. Frost’s words carried throughout the room, seeming to bring the temperature down a couple degrees. “Paris De Lange and Aden Knight.” She purred the last name. Aden had been her right hand man. They weren’t friends; she was proud of him in the way a master was proud of a prized hunting dog. “There is substantial evidence that the three of you were conspiring against the emperor and thus, against the well-being of this empire. Do you deny it?”

  Paris was the first to speak up. “Well-being?” she spat in disbelief. “General Frost, whether you’re aware of it or not, Nero was planning to wipe out the empire with a genetically enhanced super-virus. I’d hardly call that having the empire’s best interests at heart.”

  “Lies!” Frost shouted, slamming her fist down on the podium. “No evidence has been found to suggest such a thing. To make such a ridiculous assumption, Dr. De Lange, is treason.”

  Paris’s eyes turned icy as Frost hissed her name, but she made no move to argue.

  “If I had it my way,” Frost continued haughtily, “I’d have you all executed on the spot.”

  My eyes widened, and I heard Paris suck in a tight breath.

  “But,” Frost said, biting off the word like it killed her to say it, “the Council is not in full agreement with that decision, and as our rules dictate, you will be held prisoner until we can set a trial date to determine your fates.”

  I hoped my expression seethed hatred. Hell, I was half hoping Frost’s hair would catch on fire if I glared at her hard enough, but that would have been wishing for too much. It was all I could do to keep from pouncing on that old hag right then and there. Rook stiffened, and I could sense him watching me from the corner of his eyes. Slowly, he moved his finger behind the trigger, raising his gun slightly.

  “Until further notice, you are all hereby declared enemies of the empire.” Frost’s silver eyes narrowed. Once before, I might have chilled or maybe even cowered a little under her stare, but not today. I shot a glare as hot as hers was cold right back at her, and smirked when her mouth twitched, threatening to roll up into a sneer.

  “Captain Rook,” she hissed.

  I blinked, whipping my head around to stare at Rook. He caught my eyes, a sheepish look on his face. “Captain?” I mouthed, but he immediately looked away, composing his face into hard stone once more.

  “You will escort these criminals to our prison ward, where they are to be held until further notice. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rook clipped, saluting her before starting to walk toward us.

  There was a horrible gurgling sound to my right. Aden had begun coughing again, and something about watching him suffer made whatever dam was holding my anger back snap.

  Raising my head, I said, “I don’t have time for this crap! Aden needs help now!”

  The words were barely out of my mouth before pain erupted at the back of my skull, making sparks fly before my eyes. As I stumbled forward, someone kicked me hard behind my knees and I went down, flinging my arms out to catch myself. It didn’t matter. My wrists were jerked behind me as a pair of cuffs was painfully tightened around them, leaving my cheek to smack onto the cold, glossy floor.

  Paris heaved one of her “what an idiot” sighs, underscored by a now seething Aden as he tried to break free of his captors.

  “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her,” he spat, his voice contorted with rage. I had forgotten how scary he could be when he was in what I dubbed “killer mode.” His angelic face had become that of a demon, with glowing red eyes and long canines that could rip a man’s throat out in less than a heartbeat.

  When I made to get up, someone firmly planted a boot on my face. I could feel the treads digging into my cheek, reeking of dirt and worn out leather.

  Frost had risen out of her chair, as had Mrs. Knight, who seemed to be begging her son with her eyes not to do anything rash. “Well,” Frost snapped, “if they’re going to give you this much trouble early on, I wonder if you’re truly ready for the position, Captain Rook.”

  “My apologies, General,” he said, bowing his head slightly as if shamed. “It won’t happen again. We will use Scarlet Steel if necessary to restrain them.”

  I blanched, remembering the feeling of the red metal eating away my flesh merely by touching it. It was an experience I had no desire to relive any time soon.

  “Let us hope you are not as grave a disappointment as your predecessor,” she said evenly, snapping her gaze briefly to Aden before flicking her hand. “Now get them out of my sight. The Council has many… disagreements to work through.”

  Two guys hauled me up so quickly that my head spun. The council members turned away, and the guards promptly began leading us toward the doors.

  “Wait!” I cried.

  Frost closed her eyes, a severe scowl clouding her features. “What is it?” she snapped.

  The guards halted, looking at Rook for guidance. He searched my eyes, finally nodding once, and they turned me back around. They gripped my arms so tight I thought I would lose circulation, a warning to behave myself.

  “We have proof,” I said.

  Frost started to roll her eyes, then caught herself. “Proof of what?”

  “That Ori – um – Nero was planning on wiping out the vampires with a super-virus.”

  She sighed, exasperated, and leaned forward so her elbows were resting on the podium. “There is no such evidence,” she said, staring down at the podium while rubbing her temples.

  “Then I suppose Angel’s body doesn’t count as proof?”

  Astonishment flashed over Rook’s face, and I immediately regretted being so brash. He and Angel had sort of been dating before Orion used her as an experiment to test the virus out on. Rook wasn’t there, and I felt bad he had to find out this way.

  Frost gave me a long, irritated stare before speaking. “Sergeant McAllister, there was no body. Only a chair, some rope – which you undoubtedly hoped to restrain our emperor with – and the gun you or Captain Knight used to shoot him in your shoddy assassination attempt.”

  That statement was so full of bullshit that my brain took a few extra seconds to process it. “Excuse me?”

  “Sloane,” Paris growled under her breath, but I ignored her. “Of course there was a body there,” I went on. “How could you miss it? She was covered in…” The shock of what Frost’s words meant slowly sank in, making my skin break out in goose bumps as dread sank in my stomach like a lead weight. “You’re covering it up to make it look like
we’re the villains and not Nero.”

  Frost didn’t have to say anything. The cold, guarded look in her eyes as she squeezed her lips shut, trying to suppress a triumphant smile, said everything.

  I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Paris’s face was grim, and Aden stood nearby, a stony look in his eyes.

  My gaze rested on a golden plaque I hadn’t noticed before, hanging directly on Frost’s podium. A saying was engraved on it: “Protect the emperor; protect the empire.”

  I stared at it, my mind working around those words. The memory of the enraged citizens outside – Nero’s people – came back to me in stark clarity. They obviously loved Nero. If that was just a small dose of the vampire population, how would the rest of them react to finding out their emperor – the man who had given them a home and an identity to be proud of – had been shot?

  Once a few seconds of tense silence had passed, Frost said, “Get them out of my sight.”

  “Stop.”

  Every head swiveled to Mrs. Knight, who now stood. “I’d like to barter for the placement of my son.”

  I thought Frost’s head was going to explode. “If you’re wanting to take him home, you can forget about it.”

  “Not home,” she said, her soft voice strong, “but here, upstairs in the medical wing, where they can monitor his health.”

  Several of the council members who were clearly on Frost’s side of having us executed murmured their disagreement, but Mrs. Knight went on. “He can remain cuffed even.” It was harder for her to say that. “But virus or not, clearly there is something wrong with him.” She turned, sweeping the room with her gaze. “I’m begging you as a mother, not as a Council member. Please, allow me this one solace.” “Since you’re thinking about killing my son” her tone seemed to say, but she kept her mouth shut after that.

  Her request seemed to work. Several of the men and women who looked on the verge of arguing with her before gazed at her with understanding. Maybe they had kids of their own.

 

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