Blood, Love and Lies

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Blood, Love and Lies Page 22

by Brooke Sivendra


  Abi saw the girl return carrying a woven basket. She stopped at the guards’ desk, and one of them ran his fingers through her hair. His hands continued down her chest, between her breasts, stopping at her navel. The girl didn’t flinch, and Abi knew it wasn’t the first time he’d touched her.

  Help me, and I’ll take you with me, Abi silently prayed.

  The guard leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She turned to him with a smile and nodded.

  “Go along and make her pretty,” he said with a chuckle.

  She nodded submissively and then walked toward Abi.

  She didn’t look at Abi when she returned, but only opened the cell door and closed it behind her.

  “Please. Please, help me,” Abi begged.

  “I prepare you now,” she said, clearly and much louder than she’d been talking before.

  Abi began to shake. This couldn’t be happening. She was not a gift, not for Lamberi.

  “Please,” Abi begged as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I will take you with me. I will take you home, or to Santina. Anywhere you want.”

  “Shh,” the girl said as she pulled out a silk slip from her basket.

  It took Abi a moment to see the pistol and knife which had been hidden beneath the silk slip. The guard hadn’t searched her, Abi realized.

  The girl grabbed the knife and cut the rope, freeing Abi’s feet. She did the same for her hands, and what had been an ember of hope flamed to life in Abi’s chest.

  “Put on,” the girl said, passing her the slip. Abi stood slowly, stretching out her body. She would need to run soon, and she wasn’t sure how fast she could in this state.

  She turned away from the girl, removed her bra and pulled the slip on. It fell to her knees, and the lace insert on the necklace dipped to her waist. It didn’t leave much for Lamberi’s imagination.

  Abi turned back to the girl who held the pistol in her hands. “I carry gun,” she said. “Nowhere for you to hide it.”

  She was right—this slip would hide nothing. It didn’t even hide her breasts.

  “Thank you,” Abi said, her lip trembling. She drew in another shaky breath.

  “Hurry up. Lamberi is waiting,” the guard boomed from the end of the hallway.

  “We walk to guards. I shoot, then out window. Need chair. We run,” the girl said.

  “I’ll call you Lenna,” Abi said with wet eyes. “It means ‘lion strength.’ Brave and strong, like a lion,” Abi whispered.

  Lenna looked like she was going to break down. Abi knew it was a risk to take her, but what choice did she have? If she left her here, the men would kill her, or worse. Lamberi would take her to punish her, and Abi couldn’t let that happen.

  The girl stood and Abi noted her hands were shaking when she picked up the basket. She put the pistol in and laid Abi’s bra over it.

  “Thank you,” Abi whispered.

  “For Night Angel,” she said.

  Abi let the girl lead. She walked behind her, lagging, playing the part of a woman who wasn’t ready to be passed into the hands of Lamberi.

  Abi was shaking but she didn’t know if it was the cold or her fear. Likely both. She kept moving forward. They reached the guards, and Lenna put her basket on the table.

  “She is ready,” Lenna said.

  Abi’s pulse spiked. What was happening? What was Lenna doing? Maybe this had been part of Lamberi’s play, she thought desperately, her eyes going wide with fear.

  The guard moved toward Abi, and it was only when she saw Lenna’s eyes dart to the right—to the window—that Abi knew she was still going to help her.

  The guard reached for the thin silk strap on her bare shoulder, but his hand never reached her.

  A bullet hit him from behind and blood sprayed over Abi’s face. She stifled her scream and ran for the window. Lenna was behind her, dragging a chair.

  Abi helped Lenna through the window and was halfway through when a guard came running in. He pulled his pistol as Abi dropped out the window, landing on the roof below.

  Lenna grabbed her hand and they ran. It was dark, but Abi knew where they were by all the lights: downtown in the heart of the Adani capital city. The rooftops were sheets of old metal, and Abi winced as she ran, her pulse thumping in her ears. The metal tinged beside her, and she knew they were shooting.

  “Jump!” Lenna said as they came to the edge of the building. They leapt into the air, crash landing on the neighboring building. The city was so heavily populated that the buildings formed an almost unbroken, sprawling chain.

  Abi heard footsteps behind them, but she didn’t dare look over her shoulder. She knew one foot was bleeding—she’d likely stepped on a nail or something—but she continued on. Lenna was beside her and they jumped onto the next building, but Lenna fell through the old sheets, landing on the ground inside the building. “No!” Abi screamed, skidding to a halt. Lenna didn’t move.

  Abi looked over her shoulder. Three guards were running toward her, but she couldn’t leave Lenna. She couldn’t leave the one person who had been brave enough to risk her own life to save her.

  Abi jumped into the hole Lenna had created; a jarring bolt of pain shot through her leg and she winced. She looked up to see Lenna aiming her pistol at an old man. He had his hands in the air, surrendering.

  “Don’t shoot!” Abi said quickly. “Don’t hurt him.”

  She grabbed Lenna’s arm and ran into the alleyway, sprinting forward. Abi didn’t know where they were going, but she knew they had to put some distance between themselves and the guards.

  The glass window next to her head shattered, and Abi ran faster.

  She held Lenna’s hand and darted across a road into the next alley.

  Her pulse was beating in her ears and her foot was slippery—she knew it was bleeding. She ignored the pain and pushed harder. They ran past a group of men who started yelling after them.

  Abi knew she had to get back on the rooftops. They were attracting too much attention, and it was slower going on the ground. She saw a two-story home ahead and they ran to the door, banging her fist. When the door opened, Lenna pointed the gun and the woman backed away, screaming.

  “Go! Rooftop!” Abi said. They ran up the stairs, climbed through a window and then dropped onto the neighboring roof.

  Abi screamed as she realized too late she’d misjudged the distance. Her back caught on the roof’s edge, taking her skin with it and knocking the air from her lungs.

  “Hurry,” Lenna said, taking her arm.

  Abi swallowed hard. She thought of Lamberi and her future, and she started running. Her feet were bleeding; her ankle felt heavy and unstable, and she was sure she’d mildly sprained it. Blood was dripping from her wrists and her slip felt wet on her back.

  But she ran forward, because the darkness was her only hope.

  “Big jump,” Lenna said, and Abi gasped as she saw the gap between the buildings. But it was too late to stop—she’d skid right off the edge of the building.

  Abi jumped, flying through the air.

  She hit the rooftop and rolled. The fall knocked the air from her lungs and she fought to breathe.

  Get up.

  Get up and run.

  Rachel

  Motion in Rachel’s peripheral vision caught her attention. She peered up to the rooftops, but it was too dark to see.

  “Jesse,” Rachel said under her breath, but he was already looking up to the rooftops.

  Rachel’s team had received the coordinates, and they’d met up with Jesse to strategize a rescue—now they were about to move in.

  “She’s gone!” she heard through the communication device. Jesse had managed to plant a device on one of the guards he knew worked with the captives. It had been a long shot, but it had worked.

  Rachel’s eyes darted back to the rooftop, and she got out of the car. Jesse was right by her side and they started running.

  If Rachel were trying to escape, she’d use the rooftops too.

  B
ut how the hell did Abi escape?

  Someone must’ve helped her, Rachel thought. That potentially complicated things, but first they had to find her.

  Beams of light crossed Rachel’s path, and she flattened her back to the building.

  If the guards were heading in this direction, she was on the right track. She held back, waiting for them to pass.

  “Hold,” Jesse whispered under his breath.

  When the guards were a few steps in front, Jesse lunged for the first one, snapping his head to the side. Rachel gasped at the snapping noise that came before the man went limp and dropped. Jesse grabbed a second one and slammed his head into the wall.

  “Go!” Jesse said and Rachel sprinted ahead, looking to the rooftops. She listened for footsteps, but couldn’t hear anything.

  Jesse ducked into the next alleyway and Rachel followed. She saw two men looking up, their heads angled ahead.

  Rachel kept running, dodging people and darting around cars and vans as she kept her eyes on the rooftops. She heard gunfire and knew they had to change tactics. Jesse clearly had similar thoughts. He passed Rachel two weapons, ascertaining earlier that she knew how to use them.

  “Run behind the guards and take down as many as you can. I’m going to cover from the ground,” Jesse said quickly. Rachel jumped onto the roof of a car and then up, grabbing the edge of the metal sheet before Jesse grabbed her and helped her up.

  Rachel turned, following the sound of the footsteps. She saw three guards ahead and fired three shots. She checked over her shoulder before sprinting in the direction the guards had been heading.

  Rachel surged ahead, leaping over to the next building. She landed in a crouch, and then started running again. She saw flashlights ahead, and they were all pointed in one direction.

  Rachel squealed as she slid, almost falling from the building. The old rooftop was in need of repair and not made for running on. She caught the edge of the building with one hand and swung her legs up, breathless as she climbed back onto the rooftop.

  Rachel lifted her gaze to see a guard running toward her.

  She fired before she didn’t have a chance, and with this many guards around, they wouldn’t know who was shooting who. The guard fell, but bullets hit the tin around her in reply. Rachel fired back at the guard, making sure he wouldn’t get up again.

  After a moment, Rachel got up and looked ahead.

  Where are you going, Abi?

  Rachel took a few steps back and then hurdled onto the next building. She continued to use the guards’ lights as a guide, sprinting toward them.

  She was breathing hard and her legs felt heavy, tired. Rachel squinted, looking at the cluster of lights again.

  The night market.

  She knew where Abi was heading.

  The wind was knocked from Rachel’s lungs and she hit the metal sheets, rolling. A pair of hands wrapped around her neck and Rachel, momentarily stunned, eventually found the strength to fight back. Her hands wailed, finding the face of the man who had taken her down.

  Rachel stuck her thumb into the man’s eye and he howled. Breathing hard, gasping for air, Rachel slammed her knee into the man’s chest and followed up with a bullet. Her lungs were burning and as she looked over the rooftop, noting all of the lights, she knew she wouldn’t survive for long. It was too busy, and she needed to get back on the ground where she could blend in.

  Rachel crawled to the edge of the rooftop, lowered herself down, and dropped to the ground. She scoped the lane and curious eyes stared back at her, but none belonged to a guard. Rachel charged forward, darting through the streets as she simultaneously glanced up to the rooftops. The city buzzed around her, but she ran through the middle like a ghost in the night.

  She heard a scream above and looked to the rooftop. She saw a guard standing with his weapon raised. Rachel raised her own weapon, but the guard fell before she had a chance to shoot. Rachel ran to the side of the street, trying to get a better view of the rooftop, but she couldn’t see who was up there.

  Rachel ran ahead, realizing she was much closer to the markets than she’d realized. She knew why Abi was heading there: it was easier to hide amongst a crowd.

  Movement in her peripheral vision—two figures leapt over the rooftop ahead. She knew by the slender frames they weren’t guards.

  Rachel ran faster, parting the crowds as she entered the market. She looked back to see the two women jump to the ground

  She surveyed the market; she needed to get to Abi, who was inside, and then get her out quickly. Looking at each of the stalls, she picked her targets.

  Guns fired, and the market-goers screamed. Chaos erupted, and Rachel lost sight of Abi. She moved to where she’d just been, but she was gone. People were scattering in all directions, and she felt like she was losing hope until she looked down and saw a bloody footprint. Rachel followed it, pushing the crowd aside, refusing to be carried away with it. A guard appeared beside Rachel, but she remained calm. She let the man move in front and then weighed her options.

  She pressed her pistol to the man’s back and pulled the trigger.

  More chaos erupted and the crowds scurried away, their hands covering their heads for protection—and as Rachel had hoped, the crowd thinned, allowing her to move faster.

  Her eyes bounced between the ground and the crowd, looking for uniformed men or familiar faces. Not all guards wore a uniform.

  Without warning, Rachel fell forward as two hands pushed her back. Panic surged in her chest and she expected a guard to pull her up or a civilian to trample her, but instead gentle, strong arms grabbed her. “I’m covering you. Don’t look back for me, keep following her,” Jesse said from behind her.

  Rachel gave a faint nod to indicate she’d heard him. She returned her gaze to the ground just in time to see the bloody footprints change course. Abi had darted in another direction—out of the crowd. They was so close; she refused to lose Abi now. Pushing ahead, she just barely saw Abi duck into the laneway.

  Looking at the street ahead, Rachel saw a small, unlit no exit sign. Unless Abi had climbed back onto the rooftop, she would have to come back this way. Rachel looked at the flat walls of the buildings, free of ornamental design, and decided she wouldn’t be able to climb them. Rachel hid behind one of the buildings—out of sight from the guards— and prayed she was right.

  Rachel looked at her watch. It couldn’t take Abi more than a few minutes to run the street and back. She held her breath, listening for the footsteps of the guards. She lifted her gaze to the rooftops but couldn’t see any movement.

  Then she heard two sets of footsteps. Bare feet. She listened as they grew louder. As Abi ran past the building, Rachel grabbed her, covering her mouth with her hands.

  Abi screamed, fighting wildly.

  “It’s me! It’s okay,” Rachel said. Abi recognized her voice immediately and ceased fighting. Her legs buckled beneath her as she gasped for air, sobbing tears of fear and exhaustion.

  Rachel was so focused on Abi that it took her a moment to realize a pistol was pointed at her forehead.

  Asher

  Asher sat at his mother’s bedside. He hadn’t left since she’d been brought in. Alistair was there too, sitting on the other side.

  Her skin was white, almost translucent, and her neck was heavily bandaged. Asher looked at the monitors, but there was no change.

  Queen Mother would be her new title.

  Tears welled in Asher’s eyes.

  King Martin was in the morgue, and he would soon be buried beside Noah.

  The Queen would not join them—not yet.

  Asher needed her, now more than ever.

  He looked to Alistair, his only other immediate family member. His brother’s face remained blank. Impassive and as unreadable as it had been since they’d arrived.

  Luke entered the room, and Asher eyed him. He trusted no one right now. No one. Not even Luke or Alistair.

  The doubt and distrust was suffocating. How could he lead San
tina when he didn’t even know who his friends were?

  Santina will fall, and we will take it.

  Would they try to kill Asher too? Or would they be happy to wait for him to fail?

  Asher squeezed his eyes shut.

  He refused to do this.

  He refused to be weak.

  He would be the man his father had believed in.

  There was so much to organize, but Asher didn’t want to hold the King’s funeral until his mother was awake and could attend, though the doctors had warned him that could be some time.

  So what was he supposed to do? Hold the funeral without his mother? What would happen if she awoke and realized she’d missed the funeral of her husband?

  Not if, Asher told himself. When.

  When she woke up.

  Asher looked to his brother. His calm manner continued to unnerve Asher.

  “I need to make a public statement,” Asher said. “I’m going to announce that a private funeral and burial will be held for the King. A public ceremony will be held for the public once the Queen awakes.”

  Alistair looked thoughtful. “I think that’s a good idea,” he said without looking at Asher.

  Asher studied his brother. What was Alistair thinking? He’d been composed since their father’s death and hadn’t once reached for a glass of liquor—that in itself was a red flag. The longer Asher stared at his brother, the more uneasy he felt. Maybe Alistair’s past actions hadn’t been self-sabotage; maybe it had been an act. Was it possible Alistair had been involved in the deaths of their family members? The attack couldn’t have taken place without inside information, and other than the security team, Alistair had been one of the few people who had known when his parents were leaving the palace and where they were going.

 

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