black tiger (Black Tiger Series Book 1)

by Sara Baysinger

I’ve been told that over and over by Rain and Forest and LeighAnn. I’ve been given the Black Tiger Test. But I feel like I’m just now fully understanding it. And everything makes so much more sense now. I always wondered why the kids at school were so easy to get along with. Why they always did exactly what I said. Why, when they bullied Leaf, I was able to just step in and stop it. Because I was never big and intimidating. The bullies could have shoved me into a puddle, no problem. And I always assumed it was because my mom was taken away. I thought they felt sorry for me, and so left me alone. I had no idea that, the whole time, I was just controlling their minds. It’s kind of disappointing, really. Because all this time I thought people actually liked me. But they were only heeding to their Proletariat blood.

  “I suspected it for a while,” Rain says. “Even before your test.”

  “How long?”

  “Since I loaded you on the bus that first day. I told you to be quiet, and just like the little annoying thing that you are, you kept talking. Asking questions. And I knew immediately you were not the average Proletariat.”

  “Wait. So, you’re telling me you knew I was Patrician, and yet you would have just let me die on the Rebels Circle? And what about the Black Tiger Test?” I cross my arms defensively. “You just stood there when the tiger charged toward me.”

  Rain shakes his head. “You’re too smart. I knew you would have figured it out.”

  “And if I didn’t?”

  He shrugs and offers a mocking grin. “Would’ve been a shame to lose you.”

  He would’ve just watched. He would’ve watched the tiger shred me to pieces. He would have watched, and documented, and left the room without a second thought. I shouldn’t be surprised by his crass words, but they strike a familiar rage inside of me, hot lava boiling up and consuming my core until my fists clench, and I shove him against the wall and stalk back to the hotel.

  “Ember, wait.”

  I pick up my pace. I hear his footsteps behind me, racing to catch up. I think of Julius pouncing behind me and briefly wonder if Rain will tell his “kitten” to kill me now, and I break into a full sprint.

  I hate myself for trusting Rain, even for a second. I hate that I just wasted an entire afternoon with him. Rain is Rain. There isn’t a grain of mercy in him. Whatever I thought I saw, whatever compassion I thought he might have, is non-existent. Rain’s heart is a black coal that pumps ash into his veins and cinders into his arrogant head.

  I’m breathless by the time I arrive at the hotel, and I slow to a trot, nearly colliding into someone stepping out of the doorway.

  I step back, almost apologize, but my words freeze on my tongue.

  Forest. The older brother. The responsible brother. The untrustworthy politician with whom I feel incredibly safe.

  “Miss Carter, what on earth are you doing?”

  “I—I’m running from—” I look back, but Rain is gone. Vanished in the mere seconds it took for me to run ahead of him. He didn’t even come after me. I turn back around and bite back my annoyance. Why should I care that he disappeared? He’s Rain.

  “Running from whom?” Forest asks, his eyes filling with worry.

  “Nothing. Just getting back from the library.”

  He looks at my books, then at me, and his gaze darkens. “Were you with the rebels, Ember?” His voice is dangerously low. “Please. Tell me the truth.”

  “No, I swear. I was at the library. With Rain.” I lift my books as proof. “See?”

  He closes his eyes for the briefest moment, then his eyebrows crease. “What were you doing there?”

  “Just looking for something to get me through the next few days until the cupola opens again.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  Awkward silence. I wish—I wish I could speak to Forest the way we did before. Back at The Tap, when he was a builder and I was a farmer’s daughter. When he smiled and laughed and didn’t have the pressures of real life creasing his brow. Back when I thought I could trust him.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Shouldn’t you be with Olivia?” Her name comes out like a curse.

  “I came to check on you. I noticed you left the picnic early, and I was worried about you.”

  My chest caves in. But why should I feel guilty? Why do I need approval from Forest to do anything?

  “The picnic was boring.” I shrug. “Rain showed me around the city instead.”

  “I see.” He casts a look of disdain down the street. “Didn’t realize you were flaunting your time with him.” He looks down, and I notice his hands fiddling with a folded piece of paper. A note? “Well. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He smiles, almost regretfully, and shoves the paper into his pocket.

  “See you tomorrow,” I mumble. I swallow my utter disappointment and push the hotel doors open, desperate to escape the wild, confusing emotions I always feel around Forest Turner.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  I can’t stop thinking about the map. It’s past midnight. Dark. I should be sleeping, but the map is all I can think about. Because if I could figure out how to get to Louisville, then what are the chances of being able to leave the Community Garden to get there? I mean, what if, somehow, we—Dad, Elijah, and I—really could live off the grid? Grow our own food, make our own clothes, and not worry about Defenders coming after us?

  Because nothing about the Proletariat lifestyle is okay. And I can’t just pretend like it’s okay. Not after everything Rain and Judah told me. Not after everything I’ve seen here in Frankfort. And now—knowing that the Proletariats aren’t even working by their own free will, that they’re actually literally brainwashed into laboring hours and hours and starving half-to-death for it—I’m more disgusted by the government of Ky than even Dad ever was.

  Which makes me wonder…is Dad a Patrician? Did I get my blood from him? Because, unlike most brainwashed people, he never supported the chief. And if Dad is Patrician, why didn’t he tell me? And why is he working as a lowly farmer instead of a politician?

  All these questions tumble around in my head until it hurts, and no matter how tightly I close my eyes or how many apples I count in my head, I can’t seem to think about anything else. So I switch on my bedside lamp and file through the books Rain gave me. The red hymnal sits at the top of the pile—old, worn, and unassuming. Reading old music doesn’t really sound too appealing right now, so I set it aside and look at the other books. I read the inside jackets first, trying to decide which looks more interesting. Ironic that they all have to do with escaping reality to go to a new, imaginary world. Neverland? Oz? Narnia? Ridiculous. And yet…appealing. I could get lost in these easily.

  I flip open Peter Pan and begin reading, but I can’t focus. Reality is pressing down on me on every side. Constricting. Confining. Completely overbearing and demanding that I make a decision any decision some decision just make a decision right now or I’ll never leave you alone.

  What decision? I wonder.

  You know what decision, is what reality says.

  Or is it reality? That presence tugs at me again. At my heart and my brain. And I let down my walls, let the pull tug just a little harder and allow thoughts to file through my mind. And I’m thinking thinking thinking I’m trying to decide, should I side with my dad and the Resurgence and everything that is rebellious against Ky? Or should I play a pawn in this game we call life, suck up to Titus, and eventually—hopefully— return home, unharmed, unscathed…and stuck in my old career?

  One decision will kill me.

  The other will kill my soul.

  I rise and walk to the window. Unlike the Community Garden, which would be cloaked in darkness at this hour, Frankfort thrums with life. Lights speck the sidewalks. Loud music filters through the streets, red lanterns dot the trees, and late-night guests revel in the glory of the annual Christmas celebrations.

  I rub the sleep out of my eyes, so incredibly grateful that I’m not required to attend the late-night parties. But then I wonder. What would it f
eel like to sense the joy these carefree Patricians feel? To experience the freedom, the lack of worry about work tomorrow or what the chief will do if they refuse their careers? But how could I join them? How could I ever pretend like the rest of the country isn’t on the brink of starvation while I indulge in refreshments and drinks? It would go against everything that was right.

  How many people know the rest of the county is on the brink of starvation? I don’t know which would make me angrier. If they’re so sheltered that they don’t know the injustices going on in the rest of the world? Or if they do know and do absolutely nothing about it? Both options make my chest tighten until it’s suddenly too hard to breathe, and I need air. I need to get out of this stuffy room and breathe some real air, so I pull on my robe and head for the door. LeighAnn told me about this hotel, how the roof is like a balcony overlooking the city.

  When I step out of the room, I’m greeted by the two Defenders scheduled to keep an eye on me like a pair of guard dogs.

  “I’m going to the roof,” I say simply. And they follow me up.

  Cool air blasts into my face when I open the door. My hair whips around my face. I pull the robe tighter around my shoulders and walk to the edge of the roof, glad that the Defenders stay by the door, allowing me some space.

  Frankfort is a beautiful nightmare. Lights speck the city like stars. An acoustic melody drifts up from the streets below––upbeat music that defies the warring, angry emotions inside of me.

  “Lovely, isn’t it?”

  My heart leaps into my throat, and I spin around to find Forest walking toward me. Even in the shadows, his golden hair almost glows, his presence ignites warmth, and everything inside me melts at the sight of him.

  “What are you doing here?” I pull my robe tighter around my shoulders. I don’t know why, but I always feel exposed around him.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he says.

  Another gush of wind washes over me, and I wipe loose strands of hair out of my face. “I, um, couldn’t sleep.”

  “Neither could I.” He steps up beside me at the railing. “I felt bad for leaving so abruptly earlier and decided to come apologize.” He chuckles self-mockingly. “I was approaching your doorway, then decided against it, but just before stepping onto the elevator, I saw you leave your room to come up here.” He stares at me and seems to look into my very soul. “I saw you,” he whispers. “And I knew I had to speak to you.”

  And my heart’s suddenly beating three beats too fast because Forest is here, and Olivia’s not around to claim her prey, and Rain’s not around to ruin the very intimate occasion, and I suddenly wish this night would last forever.

  He tears his gaze from mine, breaking my trance, and looks below at the party happening in the park.

  “Look at them,” he says. “These are the most prosperous people in the empire. The smartest, the richest.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “The most powerful.”

  “Do they know?” I ask. “Do they know how the rest of Ky lives?”

  He looks at me, guarded, and shakes his head. “I didn’t know. Not until I was in Titus’s inner circle. And then it wasn’t so much a problem as just an unavoidable way of life. That’s how he saw it, anyway. But I wasn’t satisfied with that answer. I was actually…appalled that people lived on the brink of starvation. Our people. People we were entrusted by our ancestors to take care of. That’s why I went undercover at The Tap. But the Community Garden isn’t the first place I surveyed undercover. I wanted to know how the citizens of Ky were faring. I wanted to see for myself how bad it was, and I wanted to know if there was a reason Titus didn’t make finding a solution a priority.”

  “And…what did you decide?”

  He closes his mouth. Swallows hard. Looks back at the people below. “That it is a problem. A very big problem. And we need a solution.”

  My heart pounds because this is the first time I’ve ever heard Forest talk like this, like Ky needed to be fixed, like maybe the chief really isn’t so perfect.

  “I’ve been trying to push it higher on Titus’s priority list,” Forest says. “He wants me to find a good solution. A manageable solution. Funny thing is, he keeps me working on so many other things in the country, things I consider less important, that I don’t have time to work on a solution.”

  “Maybe the only solution is overthrowing the chief.” I meant that as a joke, but the look in Forest’s eyes tells me there’s absolutely nothing funny about what I just said.

  “Chief Whitcomb isn’t bad, Ember. He just doesn’t have his priorities straight. Come on. A part of you wants to believe there’s good in Ky, in Titus.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  He straightens. “Because the night we met at The Tap, when you were talking about your conspiracies, you didn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. You were only quoting what you’d heard. But deep inside, I think you wanted to believe Ky was a good country.”

  I’m taken aback by his perceptiveness. The fact that Forest remembers so much of what I said that night in The Tap.

  “Tell me, Ember.” And he’s suddenly standing so close. His knuckles brush my cheek as he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I have to grip the ledge to keep my knees from giving out. “If you were chief,” he says. “How would you fix Ky?"

  “What—what kind of question is that?” I breathe. “I’ll never have that kind of power.”

  “But if you did.” He drops his hand. “Come on, now. Forget about the walls keeping you locked up. No cameras are watching us up here. Dream big. What would you do?”

  “Um.” I look below, stare at the lights of the city as though I could find the answers there. “Well, I would stop brainwashing people on Career Day.”

  I peek back at him, wondering what his reaction will be to my knowing this information or if he’ll deny it because maybe Rain made the whole thing up. But to my utter disappointment, Forest doesn’t seem the least bit surprised.

  He just nods and says, “Okay. So people aren’t compelled to obey the law.”

  There it is. The truth. Rain was being honest the whole time.

  “So,” Forest says. “If people aren’t forced into obeying the law, there will be law-breakers. Crime will rise at an unspeakable rate. Then what, Miss Carter? Burn them all on the Rebels Circle? We would lose half our citizens.”

  I shake my head. “I would stop executions altogether.”

  “And how would you bring about justice? If people aren’t afraid, they will do anything. There would be no peace.”

  He’s right, of course. “I suppose I would do things the old fashioned way and create a prison of sorts. But I would give them a just trial. That's something I didn’t have at first.”

  “Okay, so you would stop the Compelled Training. You would take away the executions. What else?”

  I look back at the city, allowing my mind to stretch and think about things a commoner never dares think of. “I would let people choose their careers.”

  He laughs softly like I’m some ignorant child. “If you let people choose what they do, there would be an imbalance. No one wants to be a waitress or a custodian when they could be actors and singers and artists.”

  His questions make me realize how little I know. “You’re not being fair.”

  “No?”

  “No. We farmers only go to school until eighth grade, then we’re sent to work with our parents until Career Day. You politicians, on the other hand, have gone to the best schools in the empire for twelve years. You are much more educated in the matter of politics than I am. I’m sure you could provide a reasonable answer. Am I right?”

  His brows lift in acknowledgement as he returns his attention to the city. “Good point well made, as always, Miss Carter.”

  “Maybe that’s one thing I would change,” I add, thinking of Elijah. “I would allow equal opportunity for education. Everyone goes to school the same amount of time; everyone has equal chance at the career
they would want. I mean, isn’t that how this country was run before?”

  He nods. “Sounds reasonable. You surprise me, Miss Carter. You’re persuasive in your arguments. You would make an excellent politician, you know that?”

  And the breath is knocked out of me because— “I’ve never even considered it. It’s easier to talk to you than other people.”

  “Listen, I know I haven’t been completely open with you in the past.” Forest’s voice is barely audible above the sound of the wind. “But you can trust me. You can tell me anything, and I won’t repeat it.”

  Right now, in the darkness, alone in the cold with his warm, gentle hand enveloping mine and his voice a warm caress to my ears, I want to trust him. I do. But then the smirking dark eyes of Olivia Doss flash through my mind. Olivia, his soon-to-be wife. And then I think about how he works directly with Titus, and all my trust takes five steps back.

  “What’s wrong, Ember?”

  The way he says my name in that husky voice makes my walls break down further, but I build them back up, forcing each breath that he takes away from me back into my lungs.

  “Does Olivia know you’re here?” I avoid his gaze. I hate sounding like a jealous school girl, but maybe that’s what I am. Yes. That’s exactly what I am.

  He drops my hand, his jaw tightening. “Is that it then? Everything is going to come down to her?”

  “Well—yes—I mean.” Oh, rot. Why did I have to bring up Olivia? “It’s kind of a big deal that you’re engaged to the woman who put me in this mess."

  His eyes darken. “Don’t blame Olivia for your mistakes. She had nothing to do with you attacking the Defender.”

  “No…but…she drafted Leaf into the Line of Defenders. The one place he didn’t want to go.”

  Forest chokes out a humorless laugh. “She was only there to announce it. There’s nothing she could have done to change his career.”

  “You changed mine.”

  “That was a drastic step I took. And besides, why should she have changed Leaf’s career and not someone else’s? This is exactly why you Proletariats are given your careers. Because we assign you where you’re needed so there’s no unbalance in the system.”