Beyond Innocence

by Kit Rocha

  Her tone invited no argument, so Lili didn't bother. Convincing Gia to let her take this risk to begin with had been victory enough. Reminding her of that fact might get Lili shuffled back to the sectors and locked in a closet while Gia risked her own life by blackmailing her way through the Council—an outcome Jared was equally unlikely to care for.

  So Lili distracted her. "What do you know about Markovic?"

  "Not much." Gia smudged the eyeliner with the edge of her finger. "He doesn't seem to sin, which is a pity and a waste, as I've heard he's young enough to be plenty virile. Do you know who Cerys is?"

  "The leader of Sector Two?"

  "Mmm. She specializes in whores who are also spies." Gia's lips compressed. "I've heard she's made no less than three attempts at him, and with girls from Rose House. She wouldn't keep trying if she wasn't sure she knew what he wanted."

  "I don't understand. Rose House?"

  "Yes. Sweet girls. Very biddable, very submissive." Gia released Lili's chin and stroked her cheek. "You've got fire in your eyes and steel in your spine. Do you remember how to bend?"

  She'd never forget. But it wasn't her life now, a claustrophobic role keeping her small and stretching into forever. It was an act, a mask she could slip on when necessary and leave behind when work was done. "I know how to appeal to men like him."

  "Good girl." Gia stroked her cheek again as the car eased to a stop, then smoothed a strand of her hair back into place. "I shouldn't go in with you. I'm recognizable. Some might say memorable."

  How could she be anything else? She was bold and vivid, a personality so strong she shone. Lili, on the other hand, knew how to vanish into her surroundings. "It's all right. I can do this."

  "I know you can."

  Lili clung to that vote of confidence when she stepped from the car. The sidewalk was pristine, but that wasn't the part that stole her breath. Some of the buildings in Sector Five were considered tall for the sectors—five or six stories, with a few that might climb to ten or higher. Intellectually, she'd always known the buildings in Eden must be massive to be visible above the walls from so far away.

  But knowing was different from seeing. She understood the term skyscraper now, because the Council was headquartered in a building that seemed to climb up into the clouds, with floor after floor of glass windows reflecting the sunlight. She couldn't even see the top without tilting her head back, which she refused to do. Staring open-mouthed was hardly conducive with blending into the background.

  Clenching her fur coat, she stiffened her spine and mounted the endless stone steps. Men in suits and women in coats as elaborate as her own jostled by, a sea of humanity coming and going and living casually amidst dizzying glamour, as if oblivious to the stark, brutal lives that ended too soon, just because someone had been born on the wrong side of a wall.

  Lex was right. You couldn't come inside and not have it change you. But instead of yearning or heartbreak, Lili's shock crystallized into purpose.

  These bastards had everything. They weren't allowed to take Jared, too.

  Purpose helped her keep her expression calm and deferential as she inquired after her destination. Purpose helped her hide her discomfort at being directed into a tiny metal box that proved to be something she'd heard about only in pre-Flare stories—an elevator, which whisked her upwards so quickly it left her stomach behind somewhere on the second floor.

  Purpose let her gather the memory of a hundred supplications around her like armor as she waited in an antechamber for Nikolas Markovic to agree to see her. Purpose, and the memory of Jared's face the last time she'd seen him—so hurt, so lost, so sure Lili would toss him aside, because he wasn't worth fighting for.

  She'd fight for him. She'd crawl for him. Whichever one it took.

  "Miss Fleming?" The man's voice held a curiosity too benign to be recognition. Maybe there were a dozen Flemings in this city, or a hundred, or maybe the idea that the daughter of a murdered sector leader would be sitting primly outside his office was too absurd for consideration.

  But Lili recognized him. From years ago—the very first year of her marriage, in fact, when she'd been fifteen and more likely to be hidden away, out of sight of the more important visitors from Eden. She'd had to prove her capabilities first, her knack for invisibility and her commitment to silence.

  She'd seen dozens of almost important men from Eden in that first year. Most were a blur. Markovic was only memorable because of the tight disapproval in his eyes when she'd been presented to him. A terrified girl married to a cruel man—undoubtedly just one of a thousand unpleasant things he'd faced on his climb to power. It was no wonder he didn't remember her. He was the one who was unique.

  He gave a damn. Maybe enough of one to make this work.

  Rising, Lili kept Gia's words in mind and kept her gaze low and her voice soft. "Please, sir. If you could spare a few minutes. It's important."

  Wordlessly, he held open his office door and gestured her inside. The room was neatly furnished, tasteful but understated. Money spent, but not wasted. The most amazing part was the view from the window. Now she knew how high up she was—and how far she had to fall.

  Warning prickled over the back of her neck, some instinct that made her turn as the door clicked shut behind her.

  The friendly curiosity and polite lack of recognition were gone. Nikolas Markovic stared at her with the sort of suspicion she imagined had kept him alive in these lofty but vicious political circles.

  "So." He folded his arms over his chest, an aggressive stance that emphasized his size—and the fact that he was blocking the only way out of the room. "Mac Fleming's daughter has come to Eden. Or are you here as Logan Beckett's widow?"

  Because those had always been her options, the definitions of her existence—daughter to a horrible man, wife to a worse one. That cloak of sweet obedience she'd wrapped herself in no longer felt like armor. It was smothering her, choking her. And it was a lie.

  So she set aside her false submission and met Markovic's eyes squarely. Honestly. There was mistrust there, sharp enough to cut. Perversely, it soothed her. His dislike for her father and husband made him more trustworthy.

  His dislike for her? That was the part she'd have to change. "I'm here as proof."

  He raised one eyebrow, not quite mocking but close. "Of?"

  "How Dallas O'Kane repays favors."

  His face clouded over, and he turned abruptly, already reaching for the door. "If he thinks he can buy me with a woman—"

  She knew what she had to do. Knew in her gut, even if it was contrary to everything Gia had told her, because Gia only knew how to seduce the corrupt. The only thing that could touch Markovic was the truth he wanted to hear—that he wasn't alone in his fight for a better world.

  Striding back to his side, she slapped her hand against the door, as if she had the strength in her body to stop him if he tried to open it. "I'm not a daughter or a widow or a bribe. I'm a person. And if you can't speak to me like one, then you're no better than my dead father or my dead husband."

  Markovic flinched. Actually flinched, and stepped back with a look in his eyes she recognized well enough. He was thinking about those words—daughter and wife—and imagining her as a person forced to endure their reality.

  His pity was hardly welcome, but it was useful.

  "You're right," he said finally, inclining his head. "My apologies."

  Satisfied, she dropped her hand as her brain did battle with her gut. The smart thing was to take this slowly, to talk circles around the point until she found the right approach.

  Her gut told her to press her advantage. He was off balance. He was a man who prided himself on being Good and Just, and he'd been caught being anything but. He felt bad, and he wanted to prove himself.

  And every heartbeat was a moment Jared could be suffering.

  Lili listened to her gut. "Jared went missing from behind his bar just before dawn."

  She watched for a reaction, and wasn't surpr
ised when he didn't give her one. She knew from his previous smiles that he could hide his true feelings. From his words now, she learned that he was clever. "And Dallas O'Kane repays favors."

  "Yes," she agreed simply. "When my husband broke faith with Dallas O'Kane, I stood before the other sector leaders and told them the truth of who Logan Beckett was. In return, the O'Kanes took me in."

  "And that's why you think you're proof." Markovic shook his head. "Not to sound dismissive, but to a man with O'Kane's resources, feeding and housing one girl is hardly an act of supreme generosity."

  "It's more generosity than thousands of girls growing up in the sectors will ever see." She could feel every heartbeat in her clenched fist, but she forced her voice to chilly calm. "I was a burden. I was numb with grief and loaded up with drugs. They could have left me like that, but they didn't just feed and house me. They got me clean and helped me build a life."

  "Forgive me, Miss Fleming, but that sounds like a fairy tale."

  The words were so familiar, she couldn't help it. She felt her lips curve, even more when he looked perplexed at her smile. "I know. But they're not too good to be true, Mr. Markovic. They have plenty of vices you'd find appalling. But a man in your position could do worse than having Dallas O'Kane owe him a favor."

  Markovic huffed. "A man in my position could die for having Dallas O'Kane owe him a favor."

  True enough. And whatever else the man standing before her was, he wasn't suicidally reckless. Which was why he needed an offer too tempting to refuse. Not just a favor and the promise of an alliance beyond the walls, but a triumph that could secure his position in the heart of Eden.

  He needed a victory—and Lili hoped someday, Jared would forgive her for giving him one. "Not if you're their new hero."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Minutes had bled into hours, until time no longer existed. All that was left was agony, and Jared clung to his suffering to keep from slipping into blackness.

  Ashwin's voice came for the first time in hours, or days, still even and bland. "At a certain point, pain overrides the efficacy of even our best drugs. A man who needs the agony to stop will accept any truth that grants him relief."

  "He isn't screaming yet." The counselor. "Stabilize him for the next round."

  The woman's face swam into view, and cool hands touched Jared's cheeks and forehead. Not an angel—the thought bubbled up along with something suspiciously like a laugh—but a demon, despite the regret dulling her eyes.

  —you wind up in a little room in Eden where there are no windows and no cameras—

  He'd seen that haunted look before. When Dylan had warned him about the city's methods of torture, Jared had assumed that he'd been on the receiving end of it.

  —you'll wish all they'd done was set you on fire—

  Splintered bones, sliced skin. Blows and kicks hard enough to rupture organs. Dylan hadn't suffered through them, he'd suffered along with them, repairing the damage so that more could be inflicted.

  "No wonder he hates himself," Jared mumbled, though only half the words came out sounding like words at all.

  "Counselor." Ashwin's voice was sharper this time. "You're taking risks with a potentially valuable asset. Until we've assessed the depth and breadth of his strategic knowledge of the sectors, I would request you show restraint."

  "And I would suggest you back off, Malhotra. I have my orders."

  "If you feel confident the orders will hold up under internal investigation."

  "Don't threaten me." The man lowered his voice. "Peterson doesn't care what he knows or doesn't know. He wants this guy gone. If you have a problem with that, take it up with him."

  Well, no wonder it had been such a piss-poor interrogation. It wasn't about information or suspicion at all, just vindictive payback. The thought cheered Jared up—when he was dead, no one else would be at risk, and Peterson would go on with his life, satisfied with his retribution.

  A perfect ending—with a few exceptions.

  Dallas and Lex would feel guilty, as if they'd sent him to this fate after all, because they'd never know it had been set into motion years ago. Ace would be crushed, but he had Cruz and Rachel to get him through it. Poor Gia would have to go it alone, as always.

  And Lili—

  Pain twisted in his chest, breathtaking in its intensity, worse than any of the boots or blades sinking into his skin. The way they'd left things would hurt, maybe someday even more than his loss. Grief was something you could work through, but regret lived forever, tormenting you with everything you might have done differently.

  "I'm sorry." He had to say it out loud, put it out into the world, one way or another.

  "For what?" Ashwin again. He captured Jared's gaze and held it, an intensity in his dark eyes that hadn't been there before. "Choose your final words carefully. I can't offer mercy, but you still have a chance at peace."

  So many layers of meaning. For a heartbeat, it felt like more than an admonition to a dying man. It felt heavy, like a message.

  Or a chance to send one.

  There was only one thing that mattered now. "I love you," Jared whispered. "It's not your fault."

  The doctor caught her breath. "He's delirious. There's nothing more I can do."

  "Fine." Metal brushed leather, followed by the unmistakable click of a gun safety being thumbed off. "Anyone who'd like to step out—"

  "Anyone who doesn't want to face charges of treason should absolutely step out." Nikolas Markovic stepped through the door, flanked by burly, silent soldiers with the same nondescript, insignia-free uniforms Ashwin wore.

  Special Tasks soldiers. And they had their weapons trained on the counselor, who looked nothing if not confused. "I'm here on Council orders. This man is a suspected sector spy."

  "No, this man is a confirmed spy." Markovic stepped forward, looming over the counselor. "My spy. And your idiocy has almost cost us the single most precious weapon we have against sector corruption."

  Jared had to give it to the man—he recovered quickly. "My mistake. I should have confirmed my orders. He held up under interrogation, if that's any consolation."

  "I would expect nothing less." Markovic glanced at the doctor. "Take her to a holding cell. Lieutenant Malhotra will debrief her once we've handled this situation."

  Turning pale, the doctor scurried for the door, and one of the soldiers followed her out into the hallway as Markovic turned back to the counselor. "I trust you understand the delicacy of this, and how swiftly the Council will move to contain it. This man is within weeks of full infiltration into O'Kane's organization. If anything were to interrupt his progress…"

  "I understand, sir. No more interference."

  "Perhaps this isn't a complete loss. Lieutenant?" Markovic nodded toward Jared, and Ashwin stepped forward and drew a switchblade. In another moment, Jared's wrists were free. "Mr. Capello, while I apologize for this unpleasantness, I trust you have the wits to use it to your advantage. A car is waiting to return you to the sectors. Once there, perhaps your injuries will allow you to gain O'Kane's trust. Full membership would make you an invaluable Council asset."

  Whatever game he was playing, Jared wasn't about to question it. He climbed to his feet, surprised and grateful that his legs would still hold him. "Don't worry, Markovic. I can make anything look good."

  Markovic smiled easily at him. "I have every confidence. Lieutenant, the car is waiting for him in the east alley. Discretion is of the utmost importance."

  Ashwin wrapped a firm hand around Jared's arm and guided him out the door. Quickly, silently. And by the time they turned the third brightly lit corner, away from the interrogation room, Jared worked up the nerve to say it. "I don't understand."

  "What don't you understand?"

  "Dallas wasn't supposed to come for me. That was the deal."

  Ashwin hurried his steps, forcing Jared to move as fast as his legs could carry him. "Sometimes deals change. Like your deal with Markovic."

  H
e had one now, whether he liked it or not. "What will he want?"

  "I don't know." Ashwin shoved open the exit, revealing an alley wreathed in shadows. "Get the hell out of this city, and you might live long enough to find out."

  A car with tinted windows sat idling a few feet away—exactly the kind of car Gia used when she needed to travel inside the city walls.

  Jared's heart wrenched, and he dragged open the back door, already growling as he climbed in. "Giovanna, what the fuck—" He cut off as he found himself face-to-face with Lili.

  "Close the door," she said hoarsely, her hands already sliding over his stained shirt. "Oh God, Gia, he's covered in blood."

  Gia rapped sharply on the tinted glass dividing them from the driver, and the car rolled forward before Jared managed to shut his door. "He walked here under his own steam, darling, and has enough energy to chide me. I think he'll be all right."

  Jared stared at Lili. He was going to kill Dallas—stone fucking dead. "He wasn't supposed to send anyone," he choked out. "And he sent you?"

  "No one sent me." She caught his chin in gentle fingers, her thumb the softest glide along his jaw. "They never would have asked, but they didn't have to. You were mine to save, not theirs."

  "So you went to Markovic?"

  "I went to Markovic," she agreed. "I convinced him Dallas O'Kane repays his debts, and I told him how to save you. If you want to be furious with someone, be furious with me, because I took away your choice. Now you have to become an O'Kane. A public one."

  He was furious, all right—furious and relieved, grateful and mad as hell that she would risk this, risk anything, for him. He'd been ready. He'd made his peace with his fate, only to have that peace snatched out from under him in a confusing whirlwind of subterfuge and secret deals.

  It was too much to process. Even trying left him dizzy, lightheaded, so Jared did the only thing he could do. The manly thing.