by A. A. Dark
Heat bubbled within at the mere thought of losing her. “Is that what the high leader is insinuating? That Everleigh will be handed a death sentence?”
The guard looked down. “He doesn’t say anything particular, but he hints as much.”
“What about the two of you?”
Realizing I wasn’t going anywhere until I got their opinion, the one who’d somehow put himself behind the man who just spoke, shrugged.
“I didn’t know her. Rumors are everywhere—who she was, what she did—I don’t know what to think about the situation. My training tells me she’s a traitor and I should obey whatever decision my high leader makes.”
“And you?”
The third man’s face was hard. He didn’t like my questioning, that was obvious.
“You want my opinion, Main Master? My real, honest opinion?”
“Absolutely. As honest as you can be.”
Two steps forward, and his brown eyes met mine head on. I wasn’t sure if he was friend or foe, but I knew one thing for sure: there was a power in him. A leader. The weight of my knife made itself known, but I put my focus on his, analyzing every little tick of his face.
“Whitlock has fallen. Masters come and go. They plot and scheme behind your back. Slaves rise up without fear of the consequences. It never used to be this way. You ran this place with a power few could imagine rivaling, and they wouldn’t have dared cross the Main Master. You were feared and admired by all, you just didn’t know how much. I wonder, this woman, this slave you love, when she returns, will she fix you, or will she be the end of the Main Master we pray will return for good?”
For seconds, I couldn’t speak. Each word weighed against my own self-assessment. Who was Bram Whitlock? Who was he before, and who was he now? Who would he become?
Tapping my finger on the arm of the chair, I let a smile begin to form.
“Thank you for that. Love can do many things to a person. Good. Bad. Both. Regardless, let me tell you what it’s done for me. Everleigh is the first person I have ever loved. When I say first, I mean that in every sense of the word. She’s the only one who has broken through my walls and made me feel. When I feel for something, I don’t do it lightly. Hence, the measures I’ve taken for this search. You can say, after all this time, my eyes are beginning to open. And it’s thanks to her. She has made me see what I’ve neglected to since my return. Whitlock is going through a transition, yes. I won’t deny that. I’ve let you all down, but that’s why I’m here talking to you now—something my father would have never done. West Harper wouldn’t have either. I care what this place will become. This is my home. This is your home. Whitlock is about to go through some major changes, and they’ll be for the better. What I need to know is, if your Main Master returns, the one you say was so admired…will you back me as my guard? Will I have your loyalty no matter my choice of status: single, with a slave, or married?”
The older man who’d spoke first looked toward the floor as his smile stretched across his face. “Damn straight you will.”
The last hesitated. “Whitlock with the real Bram Whitlock? Yes.”
“And you?”
The hard expression still remained as the youngest guard took me in. “I didn’t know the old you. I follow my high leader. As far as I know, he’s very supportive of you.”
“Me, but not my decisions. It’ll be something the two of us will have to discuss.” I stood, bowing my head, and held the stare of the first man who seemed enthusiastic about my decision to wed Everleigh. I knew he’d caught my hint. Makely.
Memorizing his name, I made my departure. The welcoming smile I had kept on my face melted as I stalked back toward the main hall. As much as my mind screamed to video Everleigh so I could see her, I focused more on what she wanted me to do. On what it meant to do what she wanted. Did that mean she was above me? Was she giving the orders and I was fulfilling them? I refused to believe that. She was rationality while I was lost. She was light in my darkness. She was greatness and reasoning. And yet, it didn’t escape me: her love would start a war.
Chapter 13
Aamir
Sleep came in mass shades of fresh blood and horrific violence. Everywhere I turned, someone new was coming after me. Weapons at the ready, frozen faces of inhumanity, raced in my direction. There was an emptiness in their wide eyes and open mouths. Crimson already splattered their cheeks, and I didn’t miss the hunger in their hunt. It left me frozen in my readied position. Maybe a part of me knew how real this dream could be. Perhaps it was a premonition of what was to come. At some point, I’d face the lions outside my cage. They were ready to eat me alive. My death was their antidote. My life…a release I still didn’t quite understand.
I lay in bed, drenched in the aftermath of my nightmare. The thump-thump in my chest hit hard. I felt sick, and it had nothing to do with the fact that I didn’t eat the food I had been brought hours ago.
“Hey. Nineteen.”
My voice came out hoarse. Had I been screaming in my sleep like I had at the end of my dream?
“Yeah. I’m here.”
A deep breath came out, and I felt myself relax. I wasn’t sure what I would do if Nineteen were suddenly gone. He was all I had. Never had I been close to anyone. It was always me and Layla, but I didn’t have her now. A part of me could feel myself latch to Nineteen because of it. I missed that closeness. I missed my twin. Just the thought brought tears to my eyes.
“You okay?”
I sniffled. “Yeah. Bad dream.”
“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. The moment that red light comes back on, we’ll meet up, and fuck them if they try to separate us. It’s not going to happen again.”
A tear trailed down the side of my face and I nodded, despite that he couldn’t see me.
“I’ve been thinking,” Nineteen continued, “when I was coming into your room the first time, all the action was really here in the middle. If we can get by that, we have a good shot of making it to that hall. When you go for a weapon, find the longest one you can. It’ll put them at a distance and maybe deter them.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can find.”
“Also…don’t hold back if someone comes after you. Don’t be afraid to kill. They’re not going to think twice about taking you out. There’s no room for hesitation.”
“I know.” My brow drew in as questions began to emerge. “I never asked how you got here. You said you shouldn’t be here. What did you do?”
Nineteen was quiet for so long, I almost wasn’t sure he’d heard me.
“I kept attacking the guards.”
“But you didn’t kill any?”
“Not any of those, no. But I have killed before.”
Surprise lit my face. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel about that. There was no telling this man’s past, but maybe it wasn’t what I assumed.
“Who did you kill?”
“It’s sort of complicated.”
When he didn’t elaborate, I stood and began to slowly pace. To push would have been wrong. Nineteen would tell me when he was ready. He wasn’t trying to find out more about me, and that was a good thing. I couldn’t stomach talking about Greece or the boat ride that followed. Or Layla. Especially not her.
Footsteps sounded in the distance followed by a squeaking I knew all too well. Food was coming. Lunch.
The guard took his time, and I waited until the knock sounded at my door. I opened the flap and took the tray, pausing at laughter. Lowering, I looked through the gap, nearly dropping my tray as I came face to face with a pair of round, light eyes.
“Boo.”
“What…who?” I squinted, not believing what I was seeing as the little girl took a step back. She had long red hair, braided to her waist. She was wearing the standard white gown, and it wasn’t much different in color than her pale skin. Full lips stayed in a big smile, disappearing only long enough for her to bite her bottom lip.
“I saw them bring you in. I li
ke you.”
Confused by her demeanor, it was almost impossible for me to talk.
“How did you get out there? They let you pass out the food?”
The appeal she had toward me disappeared. A pout registered for only a second before her face grew tight with anger.
“Did no one teach you manners? You’re supposed to ask my name.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. What is your name?”
“Forty-two,” she said, smiling again. “Yours?”
“Aamir.”
“Wrong.” The response came out loud and drawn out with aggravation. “Try again.”
“Aamir.”
“That person is dead. He doesn’t exist in here. Again.”
“Aamir. Only Aamir. Never a number.”
Big eyes blinked amid a stoic face.
“I see. A ghost lives amongst of then. I don’t like ghosts.”
“You don’t like me because I won’t tell you my number?”
“My daddy always said anyone who has to hide who they are has secrets. Secrets can kill, you know.”
“He’s Eleven.”
At Nineteen’s voice, my head whipped toward his cell angrily.
“He’s Eleven, and I’m Nineteen. We’re new here. Forgive him. He’s having a hard time adjusting to our new home. Say, Forty-two, would you mind moving over a little? I’d like to officially meet you, but I can’t see you from where you’re standing.”
The smile was back as she obeyed. Red braids swayed as her head cocked to the side and the smile grew.
“Nineteen. Interesting. How did you get your number?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re new…right?”
“Brand new.”
“Like I said, interesting. The count is only up to thirteen. Twenty-seven-thirteen. She was brought in this morning. Dark hair, almost golden eyes, with honey skin. A small woman, not much bigger than myself, although I hear she’s a few years older. How are you Nineteen if we’re only up two since Eleven’s admission?”
Silence.
“I have no idea. I don’t make the rules here.”
“No. No, you don’t,” she said, walking more in his direction. “I do. Let me see your number.”
The girl disappeared, and the air took on an eerie quiet.
“Just fascinating. You got ink, Nineteen, and it reads as you say.”
“Like I said, I don’t make the rules. All I know is I’m here.”
“How did that come about?”
“Fighting the guards,” I cut in. “Forty-two, you mentioned you make the rules. Is that right? I mean, you are out here passing out our food.”
Red hair appeared as she came back in my direction. “I said I’m in charge here. Do you doubt me, Eleven?”
My teeth clenched through the name, but I wasn’t about to argue with a child.
“No. I don’t. I’m just wondering, what are those red lights about? The killing. The chaos. What is the point of them?”
“Fun, of course.”
“Fun? Killing is fun for you?”
She sneered. “Hypocrite, I know why you’re here. You sound like Daddy. Daddy always said it wasn’t good to play with dead things. He wasn’t saying that anymore when we last had tea. He played the role of a very lovely guest. Do you want to know how many cups he made it through before the poison kicked in? I’ll give you a hint. The cum was still very much wet between my thighs when he began foaming at the mouth.”
I let go of the flap, dropping my tray as laughter exploded from the other side of the door. The cup resting on the top fell to the side, knocking off the plastic lid. Dark liquid I could only assume was tea spilling across the cement floor.
“See you around, Eleven.”
Squeaking sounded from the cart and I ran to the wall dividing me and Nineteen, pounding my fist against it. “Don’t drink the tea. Don’t drink the tea!”
“I heard. I won’t be eating the food either, thank you very much.”
A strangled sound left me, and I flattened my palm on my forehead as I made it to the bed to sit. Thoughts and fears spun an anxious cyclone in my mind. We had to get out of here. If I feared the red lights, I now had to be concerned over eating and drinking. Forty-two mentioned she was in charge. As crazy as it sounded, I couldn’t deny her status. After all, they’d let her free to deliver the trays. That had to mean something. But was I worrying over nothing? Was the torture extended past the physical into mental? There was no way to know unless I took a chance, which I couldn’t risk. It was death by red light or death from poisoning. I wasn’t sure which was worse. And the answer didn’t come as time ticked by. Hours. Surely night. Even then…nothing.
Sleep took me under enough for the nightmares to rip me awake. I fell back asleep, drifting in and out of lucid, murderous lullabies. I awoke unsure of where I was or if what I’d seen had been real. Reality was slipping. The craziness I had experienced in my cell was returning, and I wasn’t sure what it meant. Moans morphed between my sister and the little girl, neither of which I wanted in that way. My brain tried to say it was the trauma of knowing a girl so young had been subjected to such treatment and had turned out the way she was because of it. I didn’t know, nor did I want to. I just wished it would stop.
Growling roared from my stomach and I turned on my side, ignoring the hunger that was taking its toll. Nausea kept me awake enough to stay attuned to the surrounding noises, but the darkness from my closed eyes delivered scenes I couldn’t control.
Layla was laying with me. We always used to sleep together when we were young. Our parents couldn’t separate us, and didn’t even try after many failed attempts. I’d hold her, and peace would take over. So badly, I wanted to believe I was really holding her now. I wanted that sensation that everything was going to be alright. The desperation was so strong, I could have sworn the pressure of her back was molded to my chest. My arms would be wrapped around her and that subtle sweetness from the scent of her shampoo would make me feel as if everything were going to be okay.
“You worry too much.”
The words filtered through my mind so clearly, she could have really been on my bed for all I knew.
“I’m scared. Layla…I miss you. I promise…”
“You’re crying. Don’t cry, brother. I’m right here.”
“But you’re not.”
“Well, not yet, but I will be soon. You’re going to come get me, Aamir. We’ll see each other very soon.”
“I don’t know how. I’m trapped. I’m not sure I can get out of here.”
“You will. In five…four…three…two…
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Chapter 14
Scout 19
I wasn’t ready. Had I missed dinner? Was it the middle of the night? We never got a tray. Time was disorienting me, and the sudden red light was one I hadn’t expected. It was too soon after the first. When I pulled guard, they were almost always in the wee-hours of the morning, and usually at least three to four days apart.
Red flooded the walls around me, and my legs were moving so fast as I sprang from the bed, my shoulder crashed into the wall with jarring force. My balance was off, but it didn’t stop me from throwing myself into the crowded hallway. Before I could even take in the massacre going on before me, blood sprayed across my face and a man rolled along the side of me as he fell to the ground.
“Take it!”
Aamir’s voice boomed as he tossed me a studded club. He was holding something just as long. The morning star had a grip similar to the club, but at the end was a big metal ball with large pyramid-shaped spikes. I wanted to smile at how we’d lucked out, but I didn’t have time to do anything but prepare myself as I caught Forty-two’s finger pointing right at us. A group of men yelled out, and Aamir and I gave each other a look. There was no time for words. I bolted toward the end of the hall and he was just off to the side of me. Any time someone got close, neither of us hesitated to swing. But we didn’t stop. I ran with every ounce of sp
eed I possessed, relieved Aamir was just as fast.
“There! There’s the hall!”
The entrance got closer, and so did the men behind us. My pulse skyrocketed and only increased as we turned into the red-glowing hall. It was darker than the main one we’d just left. There was an unease with going into the space. Instinct told me not to go any farther, but the men behind us kept me running. Doors blurred by. I knew they were old cells not in use anymore, but Masters were known to stay in them if the White Room was their cup of tea.
“Ahhh!”
Weight crashed into me, and I stumbled, somehow keeping Aamir up as he still attempted to run. He was holding his side, but I saw nothing but blood as he kept his speed.
“You good?”
All he did was grimace and nod as the door ahead grew closer. My eyes kept going between where he was holding and the exit ahead. A slice of dark wetness stained his gown, growing by the second. My hand clamped his bicep, refusing to let go even with how awkward it was.
“You’re trapped! You have nowhere to go!”
Ignoring the voice and laugher that followed, I didn’t slow our pace, even as we came up on the door. I grabbed the knob, throwing my weight into what felt like a brick wall. Air seized in my chest and Eleven and I crumbled to the floor on top of each other. My mouth shot open and panic hit hard as I fought to find oxygen. It came in another form as pain webbed across my bicep and chest from the whip a man wielded. I inhaled with everything I had at the fire burning and tearing through my gown.