The Breaking Light (Split City Book 1)

by Heather Hansen

  The door opened.

  Arden was strung tight. As if every nerve ending in her entire body began to sizzle. She held her breath.

  Dade stood in the center of the hoverdisk inside the quadralift, facing out with his head down. The guards flanked his sides. The only one paying attention was the hulking brute who followed Dade everywhere. His hand rested on the phaser at his hip, while he darted his gaze around the platform.

  Look up. Look up. Look up, she silently begged Dade.

  The door of the quadralift began to turn hazy as the plasma solidified starting at his feet, working its way up.

  She wanted to scream. Wanted to wave her hands or use any other means of gaining his attention. Yet she stayed silent and still, even as adrenaline thrummed, shaking her insides. Her foot tapped. Her fingers flexed over and over, drumming an incomprehensible beat.

  Come on, look.

  And then he lifted his head.

  Their eyes met. The electric charge that always arced between them sparked and burned, a live connection that jolted her.

  For a second, fear took control. He might not forgive her. Might not ever want to see her again.

  She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat, steeling herself for rejection.

  How else could star-crossed love end other than death and destruction?

  Arden reached up to pull down her hood. Letting her features be seen, both by him and by whoever happened to be monitoring the cameras. It felt powerful, like a declaration of intent.

  Dade’s face registered several emotions in quick succession: surprise, confusion, anger, resolution, hurt. It was the last that squeezed her stomach, made her heart ache as the doors solidified between them.

  Then she waited. Anxiety became a living thing inside her. Whispering doubt. But she stayed because she had faith in him, in them. He would come to her.

  When the doors opened once more, he was there. Alone. It was impressive how he managed that.

  She exhaled in relief, feeling as if she’d shed a huge weight. Whether or not she could explain what had happened in a way he could accept, maybe even forgive, remained to be seen.

  He walked out of the quadralift. She walked forward. Both watching the other as they took measured steps, to meet in the middle of the bridge connecting the two platforms.

  She wanted to reach for him. Touch him. Assure herself that something she cared for had survived when she felt as if everything else had been taken away. Yet he didn’t make any move for her, so she kept her hands to herself, pressed tightly to her side.

  “I only have a moment,” he said. “I stepped back into the quadralift before it closed. They’ll be here on the next hoverdisk.”

  She nodded in understanding. There wasn’t much time to convince him, then. She took a deep breath, ready to plead her case. But he spoke once more.

  “They’re looking for you.” He’d kept his voice low, yet didn’t lean into her as he’d always done before. That hurt. His distance knifed through her far worse than the pain in her shoulder. “I asked you to stop the vendetta against my family. And now look what’s happened.”

  “I know.”

  “They said you were the one who killed him.”

  She didn’t want it to go this way. Wanted to ease into the confession. Nevertheless, she had to be honest, even if it meant losing him. Arden took a deep breath, keeping eye contact. “I did,” she said clearly as she pulled herself up straight and waited for the fallout.

  A look of betrayal clouded his face.

  It nearly tore her in two, but the reaction was exactly as she’d expected. They didn’t have time for this, not if she wanted him to understand. “You knew the truth of it before you decided to speak with me.”

  “I’d hoped it was wrong.”

  There was nothing she could say to make Rylick’s death better. She offered, “I’m sorry.” And she meant it.

  Dade’s gaze strayed to her shoulder where the bulk of the bandage pushed out her cloak. “You were hit.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said, because she had her life. This would heal.

  “It doesn’t look like ‘nothing.’”

  Behind him, she could see the disk in the glass tube slowly descending, ticking away their time. “This isn’t what I want to speak about.”

  “What is it you wanted, if not to beg forgiveness for my cousin’s murder?” Dade asked, letting her feel the full brunt of his anger.

  “My cousin died as well,” Arden said softly.

  “You shouldn’t have been there. I warned you.” He was shaking now, his eyes narrow slits. “If you weren’t at the factory, none of this would have happened.”

  “You knew we were going to steal the VitD,” she accused, unsure why she was pushing it. “We had to.”

  Dade’s lips pressed together. He closed his eyes a long moment and then opened them. “There’s always another way.”

  “There’s not.” She poked herself in the chest. “I live in this world, Dade. It’s seedy and cruel, and horrible things happen. I didn’t make the rules. I just survive any way I can. And sometimes”—her voice broke—“we lose people.”

  “It’s not about the VitD. I steal it too,” he said. “It’s about your insatiable need to crush my family.”

  “Not my need.” But still, there was that push from Lasair. He was right that she felt anger, and she wanted to make everyone pay.

  “I sympathize that people are suffering. I’ve done what I can to help them,” Dade said. He looked even more furious now than before, and Arden knew she was losing ground. “But that does not mean I can accept your desire to hurt people. What have you done to help them? It seems to me that you’ve just accepted the way things are. You’re not looking for change.”

  She felt those words like a kick in the chest. They practically stopped her heart. Arden lashed out. “So I have to turn against my family? Is that what you’re saying?” She wanted to shake him. Make him listen to reason. “Don’t blame me because I’m doing what’s necessary. You may think stealing your family’s meds and giving them away makes you a better person than me, but it doesn’t. You had all the power to begin with.”

  Arden regretted the words the instant she said them. She knew he cared. And yet, she couldn’t force herself to take them back. She was every bit as caught up in this mess as he was.

  His reaction was unexpected. Instead of yelling at her, he frowned. Looked more distraught than she could ever remember anyone being. “Why are we fighting?”

  She paused. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you. I want you safe,” he said. “This thing between our families is not over.”

  Arden nodded. “I know.”

  “Many more people are going to die.” He grabbed her hands, holding them in his and squeezing them. “We need to find a way to stop this. I know Lasair is planning something, just like I know my father is. It’s up to us to end the war.”

  His words broke her heart. “I don’t know if we can.”

  Dade frowned.

  The quadralift was almost there. She could see the bottom of the hoverdisk. “We’re out of time.”

  “I know.” He pulled her close then, reeling her in with his hands. Then he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. His lips felt soft, just a flutter of a touch.

  He kissed her as if saying goodbye.

  Because she knew what goodbye felt like.

  Her heart broke. Shattered into pieces right there. He may have been holding her, but he felt far away. She broke his hold to grip his arms and press in. Pushing the kiss harder. If this was to be their last one, he would remember it.

  All of her anger and hurt came surging forward, all her loss and guilt. The unavoidable end of her relationship with Dade. Her feelings flowed from her in the way she touched him. She wanted him to understand her pain.

  Then he pulled away. He looked at her hard. “This is not the end.”

  She nodded, not believing him.

>   “Go.” He pushed her away.

  She looked behind him, realizing that their time was up. She could see the murky outline of the three guards. The hoverdisk, still translucent, was not quite low enough to make their faces visible.

  From the way they held their bodies, she could tell they had their phasers out. Arden needed to leave.

  He hadn’t forgiven her, and yet he was still pushing for this relationship. She was now more conflicted than before they talked.

  “Are we going to survive this?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  She turned around then and walked away, disappearing into the bustle of the city.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Arden had no idea where to go. It had been a few days since she’d spoken to Dade. She’d needed a little time to think and didn’t want to be around Niall or the gang. There was too much in her head that she needed to sort out. She’d used up all her non-Lasair hideouts. Niall would find her eventually even though she’d shut off the locator on her datapad. Arden still wasn’t ready to face him. But she knew she couldn’t put it off for much longer.

  She approached the church from the back. It was the last spot she’d figured Niall would look for her. When she’d thought of it, she almost didn’t use it because of Dade. Then had thought better of it. If Dade knew she needed a quiet place to think, he’d be the first person to offer up the church.

  The robed man who opened the door appeared to know who she was.

  “May the sun shine for all,” she said, offering him a slight bow, her palms pressed together.

  He didn’t speak as he ushered her into the church and led her to a sparsely furnished sitting room. She sat on the decayed couch, pulling her cloak closer around her. There was a fire, but it did little to quench the draft. Plus, she had a feeling that the cold seeped deeper into her body than the temperature. It was in her soul. From the moment she’d walked away from Dade, she hadn’t been able to stop shivering.

  Father Benedict arrived not long after. He didn’t look the least bit surprised to see her. “Welcome,” he said, standing just inside the sitting room door. Violet Death had eaten away at him since she’d last seen him, his color now gone and his skin taken over by open sores.

  “I need a place to stay,” Arden said awkwardly. “Not for long, just . . .” She fiddled with the hem of her cloak, figuring out what to say without lying. It didn’t feel right to lie to a priest, even if she didn’t belong to this religion.

  “You are welcome here, my child. Be at peace. God’s house is open to anyone who seeks shelter.” Father Benedict gestured for her to follow him. “Come, let us find you a room, though the comfort here is not found in materialistic offerings.”

  Arden exhaled a mirthless laugh. “It’s fine. I’m not used to comfort anyway.”

  He took her to a windowless room that reminded her of a prison cell. The walls were made from stone, and there was very little furniture: a small cot and a table with a stool.

  “As I said,” he turned to look at her, giving her a soft smile, “the comfort we offer within these walls is spiritual.”

  She pulled off her coat because it felt awkward not to, and it gave her something to do besides fidget. But she regretted it almost immediately when his gaze strayed to her shoulder.

  “When is the last time you had your bandage changed?”

  Arden looked at it. “I don’t know. A few days?”

  Father Benedict frowned. “I’ll be back shortly with a med kit and something to eat.”

  She wanted to tell him to save his medicine, to use it on himself. Though she knew that at that point he was as much as dead from his infection.

  Instead she said, “Thank you.”

  When Father Benedict left the room, the silence became oppressive. A single bulb shone a glazed light, which made the room appear smaller than it probably was. She’d slept in worse. Closing her eyes, she lay back on the cot and tried to reach a calm place. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been wrong when she’d spoken with Dade. Anger she’d expected. However, she’d been surprised at the distance she’d felt from him and the sadness in his final kiss.

  There was something she’d missed. It pricked at her consciousness like an irritating burr.

  Arden felt stuck in her life. How was she supposed to do as Dade asked and not target his family when she knew that it would hurt her own? It wasn’t fair to ask that of her. She didn’t know how to proceed. She didn’t have a plan, a direction. It wasn’t like her. Dade had mixed her all up.

  The realization that she felt defeated came as a surprise. Arden had never lost before. Never failed at anything she’d tried for. She had always been confident in her intuition. That ability had saved her life more than once. Second-guessing led to death in the most literal sense.

  Now that confidence was shaken.

  If she started to doubt herself, how could she trust that she’d be able to take on any challengers? If she went rogue, anyone could cut her down.

  There was a knock at the door before Father Benedict pushed it open. He carried a tray of food and set it on the small table next to the bed. Then he sat on the stool and withdrew a med kit.

  Arden sat up on the cot with her wounded shoulder facing him. As much as it hurt and as sore as she was, she perversely didn’t want to feel better. Being miserable kept her from breaking.

  Father Benedict unwound the soiled wrap, then checked the wound with deft movements. He pulled out the cleaning alcohol, dabbing at her raw skin. “It’s not infected.”

  Arden made a noise of assent. It was fortunate that her shoulder wouldn’t fester. But she couldn’t find the will to be thankful at the moment.

  “I’m going to use some quick-seal on this. It will hold the skin together enough so that I can use a thinner bandage.”

  Arden nodded. A smaller bandage would allow for better flexibility. It was as if he were aware that fighting was inevitable for her. If he knew that her actions might kill them all, maybe he wouldn’t be so helpful.

  She kept her face turned away so he couldn’t read her guilt.

  “Speak, my child,” he urged. “Let it out, or it will spread like poison.”

  Arden hesitated, her mouth falling open in surprise. Then she figured, Why not? He held Dade’s confidence. Anything she shared, he couldn’t prove. By the time he could use the information, it would be too late.

  “I’m in love with Dade.” Arden let the words settle in her gut as she said them aloud. She’d known she loved him, even though she had long denied it to herself. It was too soon to have those kinds of feelings. But apparently that didn’t matter.

  Sad that she’d never admitted as much to Dade.

  Father Benedict didn’t react. If anything, he seemed supportive. “You haven’t told him?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “I’ve found that all choices can be simple.” He smoothed his hand down the rewrapped shoulder, making sure the bandage was tight. “It’s living with the consequences of those decisions that makes life difficult.”

  “How do you know if you can live with the consequences?”

  “Ah, a question for the ages,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

  Arden frowned, causing Father Benedict to chuckle.

  “If you don’t speak with him, will you live with regret?” he asked.

  Probably, yet she didn’t say that. The situation she found herself in wasn’t one she felt was fixable. They were from different worlds. She had known forever that divide couldn’t be crossed. Even if she had let herself begin to foolishly hope.

  Father Benedict sat back now, finished with his doctoring. He began putting the med kit back together. “What is it you want, my child?”

  She thought through all the possible scenarios. Discarding the unlikely ones. Knowing that any good outcome would cost too much. “I don’t know.”

  Father Benedict patted her hand. “Then it seems to me you should spend your time here f
iguring that out.”

  “It doesn’t matter. My life was set before it began.”

  “Only those who are willing to fight to change their circumstances will be successful.” He turned away with a hacking cough. His slight frame bowed forward and shook. It wouldn’t be long now until he was bedridden.

  The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, just full.

  Father Benedict rose and walked to the door. “I shall let you consider your path. If you leave before I speak with you again, blessings to you.”

  “And to you, Father.”

  When the door shut, Arden lay back on the scratchy pillow. She ignored the meal he’d brought her, thinking over what Father Benedict had said. She knew he was right. And yet, what could she do about it? Dade had sounded resolute when they’d spoken.

  Still, she loved him. The thought struck her hard. She could see the truth with a clarity that she hadn’t been able to before, as if the blinders had been removed and the world suddenly looked different.

  Close on the heels of that realization, she also accepted that she’d commit to being with him no matter the sacrifice. She had to let her family go in order to create a life of her choosing. It sucked, but Arden knew she couldn’t save Niall or her parents. They’d made their decisions and would face the consequences. She could no longer carry the burden of that. The decision twisted her up inside, but it felt like the only way she could truly live.

  Her datapad blipped with an incoming message. She almost didn’t look at it but then figured she couldn’t ignore her life forever.

  Niall had somehow managed to break her firewall. Are you coming home? he asked. In his pings, he always seemed lucid. She knew better than to trust that.

  Her fingers hovered over the keyboard until she typed: Eventually.

  There was a pause. She fingered the side of the datapad, about to turn it off, when Niall’s next ping finally appeared.

  It’s time to stop crying about Colin and return home. Niall had always lacked empathy, and this time it cut her deeply.

  She would never stop mourning.

  Tomorrow. Mandatory, he typed. Blackout is a go.