“Are you ready yet?” Rain calls impatiently from outside my door.
I grit my teeth. “Not yet.” My fingers fiddle with the button halfway up my back. My hand cramps up and I have to take a break. I bite my tongue. There’s only one thing I can do, even though my conscience is screaming at me not to do it.
“Rain,” I call in a flat voice.
“Yep?”
“I need…help.”
He doesn’t miss a beat before he opens the door and strides in. “What’s the problem? We’re late.”
“I can’t button up this ridiculous dress.” Peeking up at him, I feel heat rise into my neck and settle in my cheeks. “Can you help me?”
His eyes light with a hint of humor and he smirks. “Of course.”
I turn to face the window, listening to his footsteps cross the floor behind me. His hands are warm as he gently combs my hair to one side and lays it over my shoulder. His fingers graze my neck and an electric current pulses through my bloodstream. Then he slowly buttons up the dress. I feel his breath on my neck, smell the peppermint, and a strange warmth floods through me, pooling in the pit of my stomach. I let out a soft breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
When he snaps the top button, he takes both of my shoulders in his hands and turns me to face him. And I suddenly can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t determine why I feel so vulnerable around him.
And then he tips my chin up until our eyes meet. For a moment I’m lost there, in the gray mystery of his eyes. I never realized how deep his eyes were, how they look more like gray storm clouds specked with silver. And he’s searching my eyes, and he steps closer until his peppermint breath tickles my nose and butterflies take flight in my stomach. Emotions that were once disgust and hatred have somehow evolved to something else, something I don’t understand. Something I loathe to admit.
And the energy is charged between us.
“You look beautiful, Rainbow Eyes.” The way he looks at me makes me almost believe him. But then his lips quirk up into a mocking smile and he says, “Like a Patrician, even.” And the moment shared between us completely vanishes. “Are you going to put on make-up?” He picks up a light white sweater and helps me shrug it on.
“I don’t want to wear make-up.”
“Good. Because we’re already late.”
The Defenders are still outside when we exit the room. Rain looks at them and says, “I can take her from here. I’ll deliver her back to you safe and sound after the picnic.” He leads me down the hall to the elevator.
“You have a lot of confidence speaking to the Defenders like that.”
“My father is one of the highest politicians in Ky. My brother is in Titus’s inner circle. And I’ve been offered the position as a Captain of Defenders.” He looks down at me and smirks. “I guess you could say my confidence derives from the authority given to me by my station.”
A jeep is waiting for us outside.
“Isn’t the park just down the street?” I ask.
“Two blocks down.”
“Can we walk?”
He looks at me like I suggested crossing the line into White Plague Territory. But then he shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”
After telling the driver what we’re doing, I link my arm through Rain’s, and we’re off again.
“So do you accept my apology?” Rain asks. “For taking you to the club?”
The reminder of the club irritates me. “You could earn your forgiveness a lot sooner if you answer some questions for me.”
“What kind of questions?”
I look up at him. “What’s the history?”
“History? Of Ky?”
“Holy Crawford, no. I’ve had Ky history beat into my head at school. I mean the Patrician history. Why is it such a big deal that I’m Patrician? And you mentioned something about an antitoxin.”
“Oh, rot.” He throws his head back in defeat and groans. “I should have known this was your way of trapping me. No cameras around, so you think I’ll answer your questions.” He looks at me and narrows his eyes. “Sneaky girl. Fine. Now, where to start….”
We cross the road. One more block left. I slow my pace to give him more time to talk.
He must notice, because his lips disappear entirely in obvious irritation. “All right. Fine. Basically, over a hundred years ago, when the White Plague was spreading way out of control, twelve of the best scientists in the country got together and came up with some sort of cure. Well, not really a cure. An antitoxin to save themselves from the White Plague.”
“Wait,” I say, stopping. “So, the government doesn’t have resources to give medicine to the Proletariats, but they have an antitoxin?”
Rain stares at me. “Yes.” His jaw clenches. He resumes walking, and all I can do is walk beside him and absorb all this information he’s cramming into my head. “After the scientists created the antitoxin, they gathered up what was left of the healthy population and corralled them into Ky, then blocked off the White Plagued by blowing up all the bridges that crossed the Three Rivers.”
“The plagued couldn’t swim?”
“No. Too weak, their brain cells too far gone. The scientists also selected twelve politicians and one leader, Quentin Whitcomb, Titus’s great grandfather, to help run the country.”
I remember the statue I saw in the Capitol Building with the name Quentin Whitcomb engraved at the base.
“To keep the politicians safe,” Rain continues, “They offered them and their families the antitoxin as well. But since the rest of the city was considered safe from the White Plague, they chose not to distribute the antitoxin to anyone else except those who could afford it.”
“Why not give it to everyone? Wouldn’t it be a good idea to take precautions?”
“Because it’s very expensive to make, little apple picker, and they certainly didn’t have the resources back then, when the entire country fell to its ruins. Now it’s pointless to distribute to everyone, because, well, we’ve all been safe from the plague the past hundred years.”
“But they still give it to the rich people?”
“Mm. No. The antitoxin sort of becomes a part of your blood. You can pass it on to your children through your genes.”
“Oh. So…Patrician isn’t so much as a title of the rich, as it is a marking of the antitoxin in your blood.”
“Exactly.”
“So, do they still have an antitoxin stored up somewhere? Or do they make it on demand? I mean, it seems like they should have a whole lab full of vials in case another outbreak occurs.”
“Now you’re thinking like a politician.” He grins. “But honestly, I have no idea if they have some stored up. You see, I’m not a politician, and don’t have access to that information.”
“Does Forest know?”
“You should ask him. Though I doubt he’ll tell you. That sort of information is classified, and one could get in trouble for sharing it.”
So, the politicians keep some things even from the rest of the Patricians. Interesting. I guess I thought they were all a part of the same loop.
I have a dozen more questions about the antitoxin, but we’ve arrived at the park, and listening ears are everywhere. As we cross the street, I catch a glimpse of something racing in our direction. Something big and dark with variegated stripes and I realize it’s a black tiger.
And it’s leaping straight toward us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I freeze. My heart forgets how to beat, then begins pounding twice as fast. I might be having another nightmare but I’m not sure, so I tighten my grip on Rain’s arm. He looks down at me, then back ahead, and steps in front of me, as though to protect me. The tiger slows to a stop right in front of him. Rain squats down on one knee and scratches the beast behind the ears like it’s some sort of kitten.
An older butler comes jogging behind the tiger. “Sorry, sir. I tried to tie him on the leash, but he was too fast when he saw you arrive.”
“It’s fine, Je
ff. I can take him from here.” Rain looks back at me. “I would like to introduce you to Julius.”
“J-Julius?” I place my hand on my heart, trying to calm the wild thump.
Rain grins and moves aside, revealing the black tiger wearing a gold collar. “Go ahead and pet him. He won’t bite.” He winks. “He especially warms up to beautiful Patricians.”
Breathe. Remember to breathe. But don’t take a step near the beast. “D-do you just take it everywhere with you so you can see who’s Patrician and who’s not?” I hate that my voice cracks.
He stands. “I saved him. His back leg was chopped off by one of the prisoners three years ago.”
I glance at the tiger. Sure enough––only three legs. Good. Maybe I’ll have a chance to outrun him if he ever decides to attack me.
“They were going to put him down,” Rain says. “But, I didn’t see a reason for him to go. It’s not like he did anything wrong.”
“Except kill people.”
He looks at me, his gaze hardening. “Criminals. He followed orders. The same way Defenders follow orders.”
“The way they followed orders to kill Leaf.”
Rain closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, I think––I think––I catch a glimpse of empathy.
“Forget it,” he says. “Julius is nothing like a Defender.” He turns abruptly and merges into the crowd, Julius at his heels. I hurry to catch up and link my arm through his, careful to keep a distance between myself and the tiger.
We’re stepping onto more dangerous territory now. My heart throbs in my fingertips at being surrounded by hundreds of Patricians. Defenders gird the perimeter of the park, so I’m guessing the spies are still in town. Can’t put Chief Whitcomb in any sort of danger.
Guests immediately notice us.
“Rain,” one girl says as she approaches, smiling wide enough to show all her perfect, white teeth. She’s not one of the girls I saw last night. How many girls does Rain have? She stands close enough that I can smell her intoxicating perfumes. “We were beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.” Her voice is soft and sultry.
“Me? Miss a picnic?” Rain flashes his hallmark grin. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He slips his flask out of his back pocket, screws off the lid, and takes a deep drink.
The girl looks at me, almost like an afterthought. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m not as welcomed into Frankfort as Rain suggested.
“Oh, Miss Carter.” Her icy fingers touch my forearm. “How nice that you could come. We’re all excited to learn how you, a mere farmer, are actually one of us.”
One of us. I force a sweet smile. “It’s not official yet. Honestly, I was hoping to return to the Community Garden today, but, alas, I’m not allowed.”
“Why on earth would you want to go back there when we offer so much here?” she asks.
“Because my family is there. Why wouldn’t I go back?
Unfortunately the chief—“
Rain squeezes my arm in a painful grasp and I wince. Heaven forbid I make the chief look mean. And I certainly can’t mention the Resurgence.
“I mean, the roads are closed now, due to the massive celebrations.”
“Oh.” She smiles again, but her smile is too perfect, like she’s trying hard to look like a picture. “Well I, for one, am glad the roads are blocked. We’ve still a month of celebrations to fill up on, and the New Year Parade is the biggest occasion of all. You simply can’t miss the parade.”
“And I shan’t.” I mimic her Patrician accent.
“By the way, we all heard about how you stood up for that girl last night.” Now her smile fades a little, and I might be seeing things, but a flicker of concern flashes in her eyes. “That was awfully kind of you to do that.”
And I’m speechless. Because if it’s such a nice thing to do, why isn’t everyone doing it? Why do girls like Cherry just stand by and watch and…laugh?
Rain tugs on my arm. I offer a slight curtsy to the girl, and we’re off.
“Look at you,” Rain mutters. “Making a positive difference in Frankfort in just a few days. The people are really beginning to admire you.”
“Then maybe you should let me speak my mind. I could really open up their eyes to what kind of jackal is leading their country.”
Rain shakes his head. “Helping a statue? That’s heroic. But you’ve got to watch what you say about the chief. These people have no sense of privacy. They’re bound to repeat whatever you say to them, and whatever is repeated will most likely reach Titus’s ears.”
“Yes, sir,” I say sarcastically. “So what am I supposed to talk about?”
“Oh, there are plenty of things us Patricians like to talk about.” He takes another drink from his flask. “The weather, the food, each other’s clothes, and finally, how great our chief is.”
I roll my eyes at his self-mocking statement. At least Rain isn’t afraid to make fun of his culture. Forest would defend it to the death. Rain leads me down the trail, winding into a cluster of trees. We pass an alcove where two people are making out. Or as Rain would say, indulging. Everything about the tavern last night comes colliding back, and I suddenly feel sick to my stomach.
“Miss Carter.”
I look up. Forest steps in front of us, Olivia’s arm linked through his.
“Forest,” I say.
“I thought you went home.” His features are serious, his mouth as straight as his nose.
“You were right.” I shrug. “Frankfort’s been shut down.”
“Yes.” He nods. “I’m deeply sorry about that. Well, we are glad you’re staying. It’s only right that you experience the full excitement of the Christmas celebrations.”
“Oh, Forest, don’t push the poor girl.” Olivia smiles apologetically to me, though I know there’s absolutely nothing genuine in her Patrician smile. “She must be going through a lot of culture shock. What, transitioning from the life of a pauper to one of a Patrician and all.” She looks at Forest with mock empathy. “I heard they don’t get to enjoy the occasional party where she comes from. It’s all work, work, work and no play for the farmers.”
“We’re not allowed the luxury of picnics and balls,” I snap. Rain’s fingers dig into my arm again. Another warning to keep silent, but I ignore him. “We might not have smooth vodka or pet tigers, but I can assure you, Congresswoman Doss, we have parties of our own. They’re just more casual.”
Forest frowns, then clears his throat “To each his own, eh, ladies?”
Leaning up, I whisper in Rain’s ear, “And they’re a hell of a lot more fun.”
This earns me a chuckle from Rain. The crease between Forest’s eyebrows deepens, as does Olivia’s scowl.
“Miss Carter,” Forest says. “May I have a word with you? In private?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I stare at him. Forest wants to speak to me in private? What could he possibly want to say that he doesn’t want Rain or his precious Olivia to hear? Olivia must be thinking the same thing, because she shoots him a look. He seems completely unaware while he waits for my answer.
I clear my throat. “Um, of course.”
He releases Olivia’s hand and extends his elbow for me to take. Slipping my arm through his, I cast Olivia a wicked smile, just because I can, then walk beside him, wondering why I suddenly feel like a child who has been caught eating too many apples.
“I can’t help but notice how you’re warming up to my brother,” he says.
“I—I’m not warming up to him. I hate Rain.”
“Is that why you can’t seem to keep your eyes off him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear?”
“Sweet nothings?”
“Just now.”
I cough back a snort. So that got to Forest. Good.
“I wasn’t whispering ‘sweet nothings.’” I slip my arm from his. “And what does it matter to you what happens between me and Rain? You have your own little fiancée to worry about.” What right ha
s he to be jealous?
Forest leads me into an alcove, and I’m infinitely grateful for the privacy. “I fear for you. Rain…he’s not exactly on Titus’s good side.”
“Wow. We actually have something in common, since Titus thinks I’m some sort of rebel.”
“You don’t understand. My little brother doesn’t agree with the government. And he’s careless and destructive and—” He lets out a hard sigh, looks at the ground, rakes his hand through his hair. “He could easily get you into trouble.”
So Forest does have a little bit of concern for me. The thought is touching. But why does he care?
And I’m intrigued by the fact that Rain doesn’t agree with the government, when he was the one patronizing the rebels at the prison. These brothers are two walking contradictions.
I place my hand over Forest’s. He flinches, then wraps his fingers around mine.
“Don’t worry about me, Forest.” I ignore the way my heart pounds. “I can take care of myself. If anything, I’ll probably be the one to get Rain into trouble if Titus keeps stopping me from going home.”
“You can’t think like that. Titus has absolutely nothing against you. He’s only trying to protect his country from reckless rebels. I believe you’re innocent, but Titus needs…a little more convincing.”
“How can you defend him? How can you possibly defend that pig?”
His eyes widen and he drops my hand like it’s a cold fish. But I don’t care.
“You saw the injustices in the Community Garden,” I say. “You saw the starving children, the work-worn parents. Surely you know the rest of the country is on the brink of starvation while you Patricians live in luxury.” I stare at him. “Right? Please tell me you know how completely unfair the government is.”
He blinks. The shock ebbs out of his eyes, replaced with a deep sorrow. “Yes,” he whispers, then swallows hard. “Yes. There are a great many flaws in our system. But they cannot be fixed with a snap of a finger. It needs to be revised, not replaced, which is what the Resurgence wants to do. They want to replace our leader. That will only lead to chaos and more suffering. But I can assure you, Ember, that, as Titus’s advisor, I carry a lot of influence. In time, I know I can help improve the system. If I want to see changes made, I have to stay on his good side, which means no talking behind his back. No insults to his character. No bitterness for his decisions.” He offers a gentle smile. “And you, little Ember, would do well to follow suit.”
black tiger (Black Tiger Series Book 1) Page 22