As he leans over to pull the covers around her, she comes alive.
“Close the door,” she whispers.
“No way.”
Opening her eyes and looking up at him, she quickly spots a pink lipstick smudge on his lips. “So how did she taste?”
He’s about to deny all knowledge when she reaches up and wipes the lipstick away with her thumb.
“That’s why I don’t wear lipstick,” she taunts him. “You have no idea who I’ve been kissing.”
Quickly checking to make sure that none of the other guests are even remotely close to Ella’s bedroom door, he plants a kiss on her.
“I’ll come back later to say goodnight, okay? Try to sleep.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Inadequate Losers
Later that night, Ella is asleep in bed with her back to the door. She barely stirs as it opens and quietly closes, and when a body slides onto the bed behind her, she doesn’t even flinch.
She assumes it’s Alex.
When the man’s hands begin to wander beneath the covers, she moans quietly.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away.”
“I knew you were a horny little bitch.”
Ella’s eyes spring open, and she becomes rigid with disgust and anger.
It’s not Alex.
It’s that prejudiced asshole who called her a dyke.
As his hand begins to travel south, she spins around to face him and shoves him off the bed. She kicks him in the groin and pushes on his chest, and he falls back. On his way down, he knocks against the bedside table and sends a lamp crashing to the floor.
Out in the living room, conversation grinds to a halt at the sound of smashing ceramic and a heavy thump.
Together, Maydevine and Alex rush to find out what’s going on. Maydevine swings open the door to Ella’s bedroom and finds her on the floor in a tank top and undies, kneeling on Grinstead’s chest, her hunting knife pressed against his throat.
Neither Maydevine nor Alex needs to hear an explanation.
In unison: “Sonofabitch!”
The two men hesitate for a moment, not sure which one of them should go to Ella and which one should dole out the punishment to Grinstead.
As it happens, Ella ends up making that choice for them: she looks up at Alex.
He’s the one she wants.
Responding to that, Alex strides into the room and lifts her off Grinstead. As soon as Grinstead’s free, Maydevine has him by the collar of his shirt and he’s dragging him across the floor. When the shirt tears, Maydevine leans over him, grabs him by the jaw, and drags him out by his teeth instead.
Seconds later, various noises can be heard from the street outside:
Yelling.
Human flesh hitting concrete.
A Hunter Division boot hitting ribs.
Grinstead’s getting a good beating, and that satisfies Alex somewhat. Ella’s barely paying attention, though. She’s pressing a hand against her chest, her breathing labored.
“Are you okay?” Alex squeezes her thigh.
She nods. “I twisted funny when I leapt off the bed, that’s all.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No.” She forces herself to stand. “Let’s just get this mess cleared up.”
Leaving the door open so as not to draw any suspicion from the rest of the guests, Alex gets down on the floor with Ella and helps her to pick the shattered pieces of the lamp up off the floor and toss them into the waste basket.
He waits for her to start talking to him about what just happened, but she doesn’t offer anything up. He can’t tell if she’s hurt, distressed, or angry, and he doesn’t know what to say to her. He’s certain that almost any other girl would seek comfort, but Ella’s not like most girls. She did have a knife to the guy’s throat, after all.
Eventually, he has to ask: “Did he … ?”
Ella shakes her head. “He tried, but no.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
“My back was to the door. I … I thought he was you.”
“It’s okay, El. You did nothing wrong.”
“He touched my tits, Alex. It was gross.” She accidentally pricks her finger with a shard of ceramic and admires the tiny bubble of blood that appears. “I should’ve cut his dick off.”
Alex smiles. That kind of attitude is exactly what he expected from her. The next thing she says, however, throws him for a loop.
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
At first, he thinks she wants sex.
He’s about to object, but Ella sets him straight.
“No, not like that,” she assures him. “I just want you to lie with me until I fall asleep. Will you?”
She doesn’t realize Maydevine is standing in the doorway.
He has to clear his throat to get their attention.
“I sent everyone home.” He turns to Alex. “Stay with her. You can let yourself out.” He looks back at Ella. “Goodnight, Old Bean.”
There’s a hint of sadness in his face. If this were any other night, he’d kiss her head and wish her good dreams.
But not tonight.
He’s not the man she needs, and he’s going to have to get used to that. He leaves with a heavy sigh, leaving the door slightly ajar to throw some light from the hallway into the room.
In a beam of that light, Ella disposes of the last piece of the broken lamp and climbs into bed. She tucks herself up in the sheets and makes room for Alex to lie beside her.
Staying on top of the covers, he lies down and puts his arm around her as she rolls up to his chest and snuggles against him.
“I can’t wait till every night ends like this,” she mumbles.
“What? With attempted rape?” Alex frowns.
“No!” Ella slaps his chest lightly. “Like this: you and me in bed together.”
Alex’s chest feels tight.
She’s expecting to marry him after graduation.
“Are you going to press charges against Grinstead?” he deflects.
“Meh. What good would it do? There’s nothing the Police Division can do to him that Maydevine won’t already do.” She yawns. “He’ll be stuck in the third line forever. Perhaps even the fourth line. He’ll certainly never be a Commander.”
She’s got a point.
Maydevine will make his life a living hell.
“Now why the topic dodge?” she asks. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”
Alex sighs.
She needs to know.
“I would give anything to be able to make you my wife.” He kisses the top of her head. “I hope you know that. I knew from the first time we kissed that I belonged with you.”
“Why do I sense a but coming?”
“I’m at your father’s mercy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I told him I couldn’t bear the thought of these next five months. I told him I was prepared to hand in my resignation so that we could be together properly.”
“And?”
“He wouldn’t let me.”
“He can’t stop you.”
“He wants me in the Hunter Division alongside you.”
“You’re a Commander. We—”
“I won’t be. I’ve agreed to take a voluntary demotion as soon as I’m released for duty. As Hunters of equal rank, there’ll be nothing to prohibit us from having a sexual relationship.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“We won’t be allowed to marry.”
“Why the hell not?” She’s wide awake now.
“According to Sentinel District law, Hunters aren’t allowed to marry one another.”
“For what possible reason?”
“Breeding. If a male Hunter is monogamously tied to another Hunter, it’s impossible for him to procreate because of the mandatory birth control law that governs all females in the Division.”
“So why not abolish the birth control law? I don’t get it.”
“They don’t want to risk sending a pregnant Hunter into the field. Can you imagine that? She gets hit in the stomach, she miscarries, and wham—there’s a lawsuit. It’d never work. It’s either keep the birth control law, or prohibit women from entering the Division altogether, and not even Omega is that archaic.”
“But if I’m in the Division, we won’t be able to have children anyway. Whether you’re a Hunter or not, it won’t make any difference. The law is flawed.”
“The law exists simply to encourage males to seek mates outside the Division. If you—or any other woman—is devoted to the Division, there’s nothing they can do about it. But they’ll damn well do everything within their power to make sure that the men of the Division are still able to satisfy the needs of the city’s breeding program.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“That’s the world we live in.” He tilts her face to look at him. “When you make Commander, I’ll transfer and I’ll be free to marry you. Until then, there’s nothing stopping us from living together as husband and wife, even if the city won’t recognize it.”
He kisses her.
Before either one of them gets carried away, he pulls back. “I should go.”
“I’m not asleep yet.”
“Nor do I think you ever will be. Not with me here. I’m a distraction.” Another kiss. “If you need me, call me. You know I’ll always answer.”
As he turns to leave, some of her deeper insecurity manages to escape.
“Why does it seem as though people always have it out for me?”
He turns back in the doorway.
“People aren’t all against you, Silver.”
“Sure they are. First it was Jax and Tipper, then that bullshit with Celia happened, then McKean got a few shots in, and now this rapist guy. Why are people always trying to hurt me?”
He comes back into the room and kneels beside her bed. “Do you know what all of those people have in common?”
“Hatred?”
“Jealousy.” He tucks her hair behind her ear. “They don’t hate you. If anything, they hate themselves for being inadequate losers. Besides, this is the start of a brand new year.” He takes up her hand and kisses her fingers. “Let’s put all that bullshit behind us and look forward to the future. Okay? It all gets better from here.”
“I hope so.” She leans forward and kisses him. “Happy New Year.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Treason
There’s a firm, agitated knock on the door to Celia’s apartment.
She opens it to find Veva standing in the hallway, looking frosty and miserable. She’s wearing a black, faux cashmere coat over the conservative suit of a first grade teacher who’s secretly an absolute vixen in bed.
When Celia opens the door, Veva, her expression taut and sour, pulls manila envelope out of her purse and hands it over.
“Don’t ever call on me again.”
Celia smiles. “I won’t have to, Ms. Valentine. You’ll be calling me.”
Veva doesn’t wait to be dismissed.
She storms briskly down the hallway, wanting to get as far away from here as possible. She wants to pretend that this never happened, and she definitely doesn’t want to get caught leaving Celia’s apartment—she feels like a criminal.
In contrast, Celia is unashamedly pleased with herself. She saunters back into her living room with the envelope clutched in her hand like a prize.
McKean is lounging on her couch in his underwear, smoking a cigarette. “Did she bring it?”
Celia slices open the envelope with her thumbnail and pulls out a transparent sheet with Ella’s fingerprints on it.
Perfect.
“We’re one step closer.” She admires the prints.
“How did you know she’d do it?”
“Because there are two things on this planet that she loves more than General Maydevine: her children.”
“You threatened her?”
“I nudged her in the right direction.” Celia sets the prints down on the coffee table and sidesteps around an RPG-7 launcher that’s lying in the middle of the floor. “Now for the next step.”
McKean finishes his cigarette. “Which is?”
Celia runs her fingers over the serial number engraved onto the side of the RPG. “We need to make a small alteration.”
She fumbles for another piece of paper on the coffee table and shows it to him. It’s a copy of the armory’s unresolved report from the RPG that was lost last year by Ella, serial number and all.
“Who’s gonna help you with the custom design work?” McKean scratches at his crotch. “It’s illegal to alter government property.”
“It’s illegal to steal it, too. How did you get it out of the armory?”
“My little sister’s an Intern there. In exchange for a bottle of illegal booze and some weed for her baby daddy, she’ll give me access to whatever I want, whenever I want it.”
“That’s good to know.”
Celia strokes her hand back and forth along the shaft of the RPG, slightly stirring McKean. As he watches her, a small tent begins to form in his boxer shorts.
She’s oblivious.
“The next thing I’m going to do is make contact with a known associate of the People’s Front. He’s going to alter the serial number for me.”
“Lemme guess: you’re going to nudge him in the right direction.”
“No. I’m going to threaten him.” She smirks at McKean. “I have enough incriminating photographic evidence to have him banished, if not enforced. He’ll do it.”
“And then?” McKean runs his hand against his semi-erect dick. “How soon can we finish this?”
“Patience, lover.” Celia slides onto his lap. “We’ve only just begun.”
“But soon you’ll have everything you need. Why wait?”
“I know you’re eager.” She presses down against him. “I know you find it hard to control yourself when you want something, but you have to trust me: it’s too soon. We need to wait until after she graduates.”
“Why?”
“Because my plan relies on her being discharged from the Hunter Division—that’ll deprive her of legal counsel. As it stands, Maydevine has too much sway over the Academy. Even if we did succeed in getting her kicked out, he’d find a way to reinstate her. For god’s sake, if he was able to save the career of a talentless little reprobate like Jacqueline Pryor, he’d find a way to do the same for his own daughter.”
She reaches between her legs and begins to massage him. “Besides, I need time to fabricate a longstanding relationship between Ella and the People’s Front. I need to forge letters, and take a few compromising photographs. I need to turn her into a terrorist.”
McKean leans back on the couch, his anatomy beginning to throb.
“We’re playing the long game here, Mickey,” Celia reminds him. “It might take weeks, or months, or years, but it must be played carefully and played well because we’ll only get one shot at it.”
“Then we set her up for treason?”
“Mm-hmm.” She kisses him. “We mustn’t be impatient.”
“Who’s going to fire the RPG?”
“You are.”
He stops her from jerking him. “I’m not firing an RPG at the Governor.”
“You’re not actually going to hit him. You’ll be wearing one of the Academy Cadet bracelets—it’ll screw up your own tag signal—and the RPG will be covered in Ella’s fingerprints. You won’t be suspected of anything, I promise.” She kisses him again and resumes her wrist action. “And in the meantime, you’re a Hunter and I need someone in the Division to spy on her for me. It’s only a matter of time before she’ll do something worthy of being discharged for.”
“And if my name comes up?” He begins to pant. “What if they link me back to you?”
“Lie.”
He’s getting close to sexual climax, and he’s starting to ooze all over Celia’s fingers.
“Are you sur
e this will work?” His eyes roll back in his head.
“Ella will be enforced,” she promises him. “And my exposé on the story is bound to get me recognition. The enforcement of the Hunter General’s daughter will be the biggest news this city’s ever seen, and after all is said and done, you’ll be looking at the new Editor in Chief of the Amaranthe News and Times.”
Much to Celia’s satisfaction, he finishes at the first mention of Ella’s enforcement. Already, the thought of her death is entwined with the sensation of utmost pleasure.
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER Ø
An Exordium
The Sentinel District
Amaranthe, 2342 CE
– Eleven-and-a-Half Years Later
In a fancy Sentinel District restaurant, Maydevine feels Veva’s foot brush against him beneath the table.
Old habits die hard.
Even at forty-six years old, she’s still just as exquisite to look at as she was a decade or two ago. She’s the same dress size, she routinely dyes her hair to keep the encroaching gray at bay, and the lines on her face are barely noticeable. At least, Maydevine thinks so. He becomes caught up in the beauty of her eyes and smile each and every time he looks at her.
Maydevine himself is in his late fifties. The gray in his hair makes him look distinguished, and although he may not be as spry as he was in his younger years, he still rigorously maintains his physique.
Looking at him across the table, Veva is practically giddy with anticipation. Her children are almost old enough to live independently. Lidia is about to turn seventeen, recently graduated from the Police Division Academy, and has her eyes set on a boy—Ella’s castoff, Luka Kinsella. Liana is nearly fifteen, and is about to follow in her sister’s footsteps, except that she’ll be graduating as a bomb technician.
As for Maydevine’s child, Ella—now known as Silver—she’s all grown up and barely spends any time at the house. Now would be a perfect time for him to make a bid to renew his formal relationship with Veva.
He hadn’t wanted to help her raise her children, and she’d accepted that. It had been her choice to venture into motherhood alone, but she’d never given up the hope that, one day, he might return to her.
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