Unchosen

by Katharyn Blair

  Next to him, Geramond does the same. I didn’t realize how huge that man was, back in the red room. But he’s almost twice Seth’s size.

  With one seamless movement, Seth eases over the railing, facing the water. He spans the three-foot gap between the suspended platform and the catwalk with one jump. The platform creaks and sways at the weight.

  “You know the rules!” Monte yells as Geramond leaps across the gap. Seth almost loses his footing at the jolting weight, spinning as Geramond chuckles, the chains rattling as he steps closer to the center of the platform. “First blood wins. I don’t care how much or from where.”

  I freeze as realization sets in. They’re going to fight.

  Geramond is built like a tank—his arms seem like they’re bigger than my entire body. Seth circles the edge of the platform, the light pouring up from beneath the waves making strange patterns on his torso. He moves like a soldier—shoulders back, fists loose and ready. His muscled chest and abs are both peppered with bruises and scabs. He has strange, uneven tan lines, probably from his time on the water. They face each other. Geramond grins, and Seth tips his chin down, readying himself.

  Monte lets out a whoop, and the fight starts.

  My breath catches in my throat as Geramond roars and charges Seth. Seth is quicker, ducking a right hook and rolling over the metal.

  “Shit,” Lucia breathes as Rielle spins, bringing her hand to her mouth as she leans back against the railing. It’s just started, and she already can’t bear it. I don’t know what his plans are for me or the others from the Devil’s Bid, but I was wrong about them once. I have too much blood on my hands—I don’t want any more.

  “Take me to Monte,” I say, turning to Rielle. “Just offer me. I’m special—you heard Maddox.”

  The crowd cheers as Seth lands a kick in the center of Geramond’s gut, but it barely fazes him. He backhands Seth, sending him sprawling. Seth rubs his palm over his nose. No blood. He’s still in the fight, and the crowd goes wild.

  Geramond picks Seth up by one hand, lifting him high before spinning to throw him to the platform. Seth maneuvers quickly, getting out of his grasp—but just barely. I get what Lucia and Rielle are seeing now. Geramond isn’t playing just to win. He’s playing to make Seth pay for humiliating him.

  He’s playing to kill.

  “Seth isn’t going to walk away from this,” I whisper, and Lucia’s eyes snap to mine. There’s defiance there, but not enough to come up with an argument. She knows I’m right. “Whatever you were getting for me, it can’t be worth your captain’s life.”

  I look down, my eyes traveling along the catwalk before falling on the ships docked at the far end of the settlement. The Ichorbow’s purple flags snap in the cold wind.

  “He’s the captain,” Lucia grinds out.

  I look over at the pit. Geramond has Seth pinned.

  “Not if he’s dead,” I reply. “But I have an idea. A new one.”

  Lucia’s eyes dart to Rielle’s—a decision.

  “Speak very quickly,” Rielle says.

  Chapter 16

  WE SLIP BACK THROUGH THE GLASS ROOM, NOW empty, and then through the now-empty tavern, Rielle and Lucia running beside me.

  My plan is bonkers, and they know it. But it isn’t crazier than standing there and watching their friend die. And maybe, if I can save his life, they will consider letting me go.

  Maybe.

  We spill into the night, the fog thick around us.

  The Ichorbow is the first ship in the port. “There,” I say, moving toward the ramp.

  “I don’t think so, baby,” Lucia says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll do it. You’re staying with Rielle.” Before I can argue, she’s taken off toward the ramp, disappearing from sight as the fog swallows her whole.

  I hear three grunts, then three splashes as whoever was guarding the deck is thrown into the water.

  “She’s good,” I whisper incredulously, more to myself than anyone else.

  “You have no idea,” Rielle agrees from beside me.

  Moments later, Lucia runs back down the ramp—the grenade launcher in her hand.

  “Far side. There’s a speeder tucked on the edge. I’ll grab it and meet you at the eastern edge.”

  Lucia shakes her head. “No. Too far. We can take this one,” she says, motioning to the ship next to the Ichorbow. It’s beautiful—a small, cream-colored yacht. My eyes fall to the purple lettering on the side. Lucia and Rielle walk toward it.

  Glimpse of Paradise.

  Something in me tilts, and nausea creeps through my gut. Vanessa’s words echo in the back of my mind.

  Glimpse to the water and you’ll see fire.

  I can’t shake the chill that goes down my spine. “No,” I say firmly. They both turn at the sound of my voice. “Not this one.”

  Lucia rolls her eyes and keeps walking, but Rielle stops, her curious gaze fixed on my resolute expression.

  “Why?” she asks softly.

  “Because. Something bad is going to happen to it,” I say, almost automatically. I have no proof of it—no way to substantiate this beyond the strange whisper in my chest that tells me we need to stay away from it.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Lucia hisses, and Rielle holds her hand up.

  “We’ll take something different, Lucia. The one at the end,” Rielle answers. Lucia doesn’t argue, but lets out an irritated groan as she slips down the dock, the grenade launcher perched on her shoulder.

  Rielle and I run across the tavern, through the dark corridor.

  I stop as my eyes find the pit. Geramond has Seth pinned, his hands around his throat.

  I don’t know why the sight of it makes me rage. Seth belongs in this world, this underground place of traded lives and shadowy dealings. He asked for this fight.

  He’s planning on using me as a bargaining chip. I shouldn’t feel anything other than smug indifference at the sight of him turning purple.

  A wicked blast rips through the night. The crowd’s cheer dims as confusion settles over the catwalk, all eyes turning toward the dock. A second blast sounds.

  Rielle cups her hands over her mouth. “TORCH ENFORCERS! TORCH ENFORCERS AT THE DOCK!” she screams.

  Chaos erupts. People run, some jumping over the railing into the water while others shove through the door. Rielle pulls me to her, tucking me close to her body behind the door as the panicked crowd pushes into the dark. I peer through the crack in the door, catching sight of the pit as Geramond lets Seth go. Monte strides across the catwalk on the opposite side, shouting orders to men manning the Gatling guns on top of the tin roofs.

  Geramond is shouting orders, too, but to his men on the catwalk, motioning toward the ship. Seth hauls himself up to his knees, coughing as Geramond looks over his shoulder. With one look to make sure Monte isn’t there to see, he kicks Seth once in the stomach, sending him sprawling. A cry rips from my throat at the sight, my hands flying to the door, even though the crowd rushing inside on the opposite side keeps Rielle and me pinned against the wall.

  Seth tries to stand but can’t get his feet. Come on, I urge. He shoves himself up, staggering to the railing, but I don’t get to see if he makes it, because Rielle pulls me behind her.

  I think we’re headed out toward the pit, but she leads me deeper into the dark.

  My stomach tightens. Maybe, despite what I’ve just done to help, they will still be content throwing me into the hull of another ship and pocketing whatever profit they can.

  Rielle pulls open a door, motioning to the ladder inside. It disappears into the dark below, and I hesitate.

  “What’s down there?” I ask. Water. Ocean. Death.

  The only thing worse than being underwater? Being underwater in a metal box.

  My throat clenches at the thought, my mind zeroing in on the panic until everything around me fades into a dull roar.

  But Geramond’s shouts of rage pull me back to the moment, as does Rielle’s insistent touch on m
y back.

  “Go,” she says.

  And it’s not an order. It’s not even angry. It’s a plea. Despite the show she put on in the glass room, she’s as scared for him as I am. I leap to the ladder, speeding down into the darkness. She follows, pulling the steel door shut above us. With a clang, we’re locked below.

  Chapter 17

  MY BOOTS HIT THE FLOOR, THOUGH I CAN’T SEE IT in the darkness. The air is damp and stale, and it’s everything I have in me to not let the panic wring the air out of my lungs. I can hear the shouts and roars sounding above us—the chaos that’s reigning in the Jawbone. Rielle jumps off next to me and lets out the same soft birdlike sound that she did earlier.

  It’s silent for a moment, and then the same sound—a response—echoes from across the room.

  There’s a hiss, and Rielle lights a match next to me. A soft glow lights up the room.

  Though it’s not as much a room as it is a janitor’s closet. Across from us, no more than three feet away, is Thomas. I don’t know how he got there—but I’m learning that Thomas has a gift of appearing and disappearing that I will never understand. Rielle steps closer, and the light catches Seth as he leans against the wall, his hand cupped over his ribs.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Rielle cries, stepping closer. She gingerly lifts Seth’s shirt, and even in the low light I can see the dark bruises blooming on his side.

  “I was thinking adrenaline would make up for a fifty-pound difference in muscle mass. I was mistaken,” Seth grits out. I stand back, the pads of my fingers splayed against the metal wall as I take in the sight of his face—it’s swollen and split. The flesh over his left eye looks like overripe fruit, and he spits a stream of blood into the shadows.

  “Where’s Lucia?” Thomas whispers, and as though he timed it, another blast ripples through the night.

  “She’ll meet us on the starboard side,” Rielle says. “The others?”

  “Already on Desmond’s ship,” Thomas replies. “Seth was right. They weren’t thinking as much about the other passengers once she walked into the room. Perfect distraction.”

  I open my mouth to ask what the hell they are talking about, but another round of shouts and feet pounding above us quiets me.

  “You could have gotten yourself killed,” Rielle seethes, lowering Seth’s shirt more roughly than she needs to.

  “But I didn’t. I take it this half-cocked plan was Lucia’s idea?” he asks.

  Rielle looks over her shoulder at me, and Seth follows her gaze, meeting my eyes for half a second before the match dies. Darkness swallows us again before another breath of orange light blooms in Rielle’s hand. I didn’t think he’d be grateful, but I am surprised by the anger simmering in his eyes.

  “You let her talk you into practically destroying this place?” he asks, his voice low.

  Rielle moves to answer, but I cut her off. “I’m not about to let Runners decide my fate.”

  “Stop calling us Runners,” Thomas snaps. His eyes flash at me. The contrast of the Xanthous irises against his dark eyebrows is striking.

  Seth pushes himself up, wincing as he balances.

  “In a moment, there will be two knocks on the other side of this wall. It’s a pressurized sublevel loading dock. A woman named Katrina will take you to a ship. It’s captained by one of our contacts, Desmond, and chartered for Mexico. There’s a Curseclean safe house there.”

  “Safe house?” I ask. The word doesn’t compute.

  Seth cocks an eyebrow. “Safe house. We’re not Runners. We’re . . . the opposite.”

  I shake my head. That makes no sense. There is no good out on the water. The ocean is bloody. The worst of humanity. There isn’t any hope this side of the Torch anymore. I watch the sputtering light die in Seth’s yellow eyes, then reignite as Rielle lights yet another.

  “How do I know you’re not lying?” I ask, even though there’s something in my gut that tells me he’s not.

  You don’t know what you’re talking about, Thomas had said the first night on the Ichorbow.

  “Why wouldn’t you just tell me that?” I bark, stopping as I look up, praying no one heard me.

  “Because,” Seth counters quietly. “We can’t risk anyone finding out. We don’t tell people where they are until they get there. In case the ship is overtaken and things don’t go as planned.”

  I swallow. It makes sense, but I think of how scared I’ve been for the past day. How I was sure I was about to be handed over and killed. I don’t know if my knees are shaking from relief or rage.

  “You can’t just do that to people,” I bite out as another match dies. I stop as a thought hits me.

  Mexico.

  I can’t go south. I need to get to the Blood Market. North. I need to get to Dean.

  “I can’t,” I say.

  Seth cocks his head. “Can’t what?”

  “I can’t go south.”

  “Yes, you can. You will,” he counters, stepping closer. He takes a match from Rielle and lights his own.

  I shake my head. “Take me with you.”

  Seth smirks, and it spreads across his face. I haven’t seen him smile yet, and it takes me by surprise. He laughs. Softly at first, and then in earnest. He puts a fist to his closed mouth.

  I cross my arms, irritation sparking in my chest as Seth exhales slowly.

  “That was a good one. Really.”

  “I’m not kidding,” I clarify. I don’t have much time. That knock will sound any second. My mind spins, grasping for anything.

  Seth looms over me, his eyes meeting mine as he raises a finger. “First of all? You’re Curseclean. That basically means you’re dead if you stay out here long enough. Second? I seem to remember you freezing up and sinking like a stone barely twelve hours ago. I can’t afford that kind of liability on my ship.”

  I look to Rielle and Thomas. I don’t expect them to vouch for me at all. But the pity I find there is familiar.

  It’s the same look Harlow and Dean gave me that night. It’s the look you’d give a bird with clipped wings that thought it could fly.

  The spark of rage burns brighter, a wildfire of anger seeping across my chest. “Okay, wiseass. But ten minutes ago, I stopped you from becoming nothing but a smear on the pit floor. And I saw the coordinates when Monte handed you the paper. You can’t afford to send me away.”

  All traces of humor slip from Seth’s face. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he glares at me.

  “You’re headed north. And you’re going to take me with you,” I finish.

  “That wasn’t for you to see.” He glowers.

  “But I did see them. Now what are you going to do?”

  Seth’s calculating, his bright eyes searching my face as the two soft knocks sound on the other side of the metal door.

  “You’re going to go with them. You’re going to forget what you saw. You’re going to go live safely in Mexico and never mention me or my crew to anyone. Do you understand?” He says it quietly, so quietly that I can’t tell if it’s a reassurance or a threat.

  “I can’t go south,” I say, not bothering to hide the desperate plea in my voice.

  “Why?” Seth asks. It’s direct. His eyes search mine, unblinking. A challenge.

  I blink, faltering as the words don’t come. He rips his eyes from mine and stalks to the door.

  I can’t go south. Dean will die if I go south.

  Seth reaches for the handle, and the words fly from my throat before I can talk myself out of it.

  “I’m the Chosen One.”

  Seth goes still as the words fill the space between us. Rielle sits up, and Thomas puts his hand on her arm.

  Seth looks over his shoulder. “What did you just say?” he asks.

  The knocks sound again, more impatient this time.

  “I’m the Chosen One. I know where Anne’s Heart is, and I have to get to it. Before anyone else does.”

  Seth pivots, facing me fully. “That’s a sick joke,” he says, his v
oice as low and dangerous as I’ve ever heard it.

  “It’s not a joke,” I say quickly. “You wanted to know why Maddox had me in her hull? Why she said I was special? That’s why.”

  More knocks. Seth ignores them, his gaze fixed on mine, and I can see his mind racing, weighing his options.

  If I played this wrong, if they aren’t the people I’m hoping they are, then they’ll take me straight to the Vessels. Or if I played it wrong and they’re smarter than they look, they’ll avoid this shitshow altogether.

  But if he is who he says he is—the kind of person who would fight to keep people out of Geramond’s clutches, the kind of person who would chance a raid on the Devil’s Bid just to free Curseclean, then maybe he cares.

  Maybe he’s the kind of person dumb enough to hope.

  Knock. Knock.

  “I need to go north. I need to get to the Heart so I can end this. You can take me there.”

  “Where is the Heart?” he asks.

  “You think I’d still be alive if I trusted anyone with that information?” I retort.

  He narrows his eyes, and I know I have him there. He didn’t trust me enough to tell me he wasn’t a Runner. I would be a fool to trust someone, especially someone I just met, with that kind of knowledge.

  The lie is acrid on my tongue, and it only tastes worse as Seth steps closer to me, blinking as he cocks his jaw to the side.

  “You didn’t say anything,” he starts, though it’s not an accusation. It’s him putting it all together.

  Weaving the lie I’m spooling out between us.

  “Would you? If you were me?” I ask.

  Seth moves then, wrenching open the door. I can’t hear what he says in those few muffled seconds, but when he closes the door and looks at me, there’s an expression of resolution on his face.

  He doesn’t say I’m coming with them. There’s no grand proclamation. The shadows headed south slink from the doorway and disappear, and then we’re alone.