white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3)

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white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3) Page 6

by Sara Baysinger


  I sigh and massage my temples. What would Forest do? He was always such a good advisor. Both to Titus and me. But he’s not here. His father isn’t really one to help. I don’t trust the other politicians. Krin will have a good answer when I call for her, but Thomas wants a solution now.

  “Contact Nashville,” I say.

  “Nashville? They told Titus only to contact them under certain emergencies.”

  “Is this not an emergency? They can give us food for our tigers until we figure out what to do. I’m sure they have more excess meat than they know what to do with, being the giant country they are.”

  “We can feed criminals to the tigers now. It’s win-win, Chief.”

  “Contact Nashville, tell them we need meat, and ask them what they want us to trade for it.”

  “Titus would never—”

  “Titus isn’t chief, is he?”

  Silence.

  “I’ll contact Nashville.”

  I sigh. “Thanks, Turner. Let me know what they say as soon as you find out.”

  “Of course.”

  I shut my phoneband off. So much for finding peace in my room. I left the tense atmosphere of one Turner to listen to the complaints of another.

  Now what to do about the prisoners, most of whom are likely innocent. Those who aren’t probably committed a misdemeanor such as stealing food to keep their families fed. And then there are the rebels, who clearly don’t trust me, even though their leader, Walker, does.

  Walker. He might just have the answers I’m looking for. I type in my phoneband and wait for him to answer.

  “Aurora.” His warm voice immediately sets my nerves at ease.

  “Meet me at the office in thirty minutes. I need to talk to you.”

  “Of course.”

  I hang up, then call Krin and tell her the same thing. Before heading out, I look in the mirror. My eyes are still red and puffy from crying. I grab some make-up and try to cover it up, then throw my hair into a bun. Once I look decent enough for the capitol building, I step out of my room and the Defenders immediately take their places by my side, as always, waiting for orders.

  We step outside, walk down the walkway to the whitewashed building. The capitol building always brought a measure of certainty to my life. Even though I lived in the chief’s mansion, I would stare at the capitol building through the cameras hooked up in my room. I knew that was where Titus resided, leading the country. And after I was released, when Forest was training me to be a politician, we spent so many hours together in the capitol building.

  But Titus used me. Forest is dead. Everyone in that building hates me, and I’m not sure I deserve to work there. I step into the building, mount the marble stairs, and keep my chin high in case any doubters are watching. The building is open. Too open. From my place in the center of the first floor, I can see almost every door from here to the third floor branching off into private rooms. The balconies of the second floor overlook the first floor, and the balconies of the third floor overlook the second floor. A few politicians on the third floor stand in a circle outside the door. Sanchez sees me, mumbles something to the others and they all look at me. Some of them nod. Others glare. They wouldn’t dare insult me or challenge my authority. Not after Titus said so many great things about me. But it’s obvious that none of them approve of my leadership.

  I don’t have the politician’s support.

  I don’t have the Resurgence support.

  What on earth was I thinking, taking the throne to rule people who want nothing to do with me? I feel like a dictator.

  I feel dirtier than Titus.

  A Defender opens my office door and I step inside, grateful to be rid of the stares of the others. He closes the door behind me and, save for my bodyguards, I’m alone. They take their places by the door, and I cross the room, sit down at my desk. Cast a glance at the Defenders. I feel guilty having them serve me under compulsion. But, the truth is, I’m terrified of giving them the antitoxin. Like everyone else who will realize what sort of life they’ve been living with no freedom, they might want to overthrow me. I have enough people wanting to overthrow me as it is.

  My phoneband illuminates. Without thinking, I answer. “Yes?”

  “Nashville wants to speak to you directly,” Turner’s voice says.

  I smother a groan. “Go ahead and put them on.” Maybe they can solve all my problems. They pretty much acted as Titus's mentors, always helping him out when Ky appeared to be sinking. Hope seizes me, and I sit up straighter, anticipate the voice on the other line.

  “Aurora Whitcomb?” The voice says. A male’s voice. He sounds youthful and exuberant.

  “Speaking,” I say. “And who is this?”

  “Prometheus. King of Nashville.”

  King. Perfect.

  “Turner notified me of your problem. Seems karma doesn’t sit well with you. You take your brother’s place, and now you’re paying for it.”

  Dread ices over my hope. “Titus stepped down and offered me the place as chief.”

  “Listen. It’s not my job to meddle in your affairs,” Prometheus says. “So let me offer one solution to your current problem. Your tigers are starving, and you don’t know what to do with your prisoners, is that correct?”

  “Um, not…entirely.”

  “Ship both criminals and tigers to Nashville. We’ll take them off your hands.”

  That’s unexpected. Clearly Thomas relayed extra information without my consent. Not knowing what to do with my prisoners? I plan to give them all a just trial, and then probably return most of them home, since their crimes were most likely out of either honor to the Resurgence or desperation.

  “You can have the tigers.” I cringe a little, fully aware that the Patricians will be pissed about losing their precious mascots. “But I’m keeping the prisoners.”

  A hollow laugh on the other line. “Fine. We could use some black tigers. Those are the one thing we’ve always wanted that Titus refused to hand over.”

  Wait, what? I didn’t realize the tigers were that valuable.

  A strange boldness fills me. “Well, you’re not getting them for free,” I say, forcing the authority into my voice. “What do you have to trade for them?”

  A laugh of disbelief on the other line. “You just said you needed to get rid of them.”

  I lean back in my chair. “I do. I just wanted to offer them to you in a trade before resorting to killing them.” I hold my breath, hoping he buys the lie. No way I can kill the tigers without being completely overthrown.

  “What do you want for them?” His voice is terse, annoyed.

  “Whatever was in your regular trade with Titus. Food. Alcohol. Coffee. But I also want extra clothes and blankets added.”

  “You demand a lot.”

  “Do you want your tigers? I possess a document listed with everything you provided for Titus in your monthly trades.” Complete lie. “Tell me how many tigers you want, and I’ll expect that many months’ worth of trade in return.”

  Silence. “You’ve got a lot of nerve contacting me with such demands.”

  “Is it a deal?” My heart is pounding, but I somehow keep the calm authority in my voice.

  “Fine. We want six tigers. You’ll get six months’ worth of trading goods in return.”

  My heart skips a beat. Perfect.

  “My men will be waiting across the river at dawn tomorrow,” he continues. “By the burned bridge of Frankfort. Ship the tigers across on your ferry. But, Aurora? Until Titus is returned to full leadership, don’t expect anything else from us. All trading from here on out stops now.”

  A click and he’s gone. Thank God. I don’t think I want to work with them anyway. Only problem is, they provided much of our exotic foods and all of our technology. I’ve got the next six months covered, but six months goes fast out here in the real world. Which means food is going to be even more of a problem than I anticipated. Especially once the
antitoxin is released. How am I going to feed hundreds of thousands with a twenty mile square garden?

  The excitement at my small victory ebbs as the reality of the future sets in. Leaning forward, I press the heels of my hands on my eyes and resist the urge to just step down and call it quits, when a knock sounds at the door. I nod at the Defenders and they open it. Jonah Walker steps in, Krin behind him. Walker is wearing his usual combat boots, jeans, and black coat, even though it’s springy Frankfort weather outside. He tips his fedora in greeting, then takes his seat across from my desk. Krin is dressed in black slacks and a politician’s vest over a pressed white shirt, ever the professional gear. I look down at my ragged jeans and red T-shirt. I’m definitely not dressed as a chief. No wonder those politicians gave me the dirty look on my way in.

  “It still feels strange walking around Frankfort in the open,” Walker says, then glances at the Defenders. “And with a Defender guarding me instead of trying to pump me full of lead.”

  His easygoingness brings a smile to my face.

  “How are you doing, Aurora?” Krin asks. “It sounds like you’ve been having a rough morning.”

  I remember the angry message I sent her earlier about Rain, and I shrink a little. But she only looks at me with open concern and love. So much love, as though I were her daughter. No. I’ll never take her only living son from her. I’ll die before bestowing that kind of pain onto Krin.

  “So what’s the problem, Aurora?” Walker asks.

  “I think asking what’s not the problem might be the better question.”

  He cracks a smile. “Okay, what’s not the problem?”

  “Nothing. EVERYTHING is a problem!” I stand, suddenly exasperated. “And I can’t talk to Titus about it, because he’s so arrogant. He’s enjoying watching me struggle a little too much. He told me this would happen. He told me being chief would crush me.”

  “He told you this to weaken you, Aurora.” Krin reaches across the desk and grips my hands. “You need to take everything Titus ever told you and put it in the lies compartment of your brain. Stand tall. Take courage. The entire world is against you, and you haven’t broken yet.”

  I don’t tell her how close I was to breaking minutes ago.

  “Any politicians willing to help you?” Walker asks.

  “Apart from Krin? Not really.” I sigh and sink back into my chair. “They’re obedient. They answer direct questions. But, like Titus, they aren’t willing to dole out information that might help me succeed. Apparently Titus had them all believing he was a great leader, and they’re disappointed he stepped down. They don’t really want to help unless Titus is at least a part of Congress. But, let’s face it, if that happens, I might as well never have taken the leadership role.”

  Walker nods. He leans back in his chair and strokes his beard, thinking.

  “You need someone who’s on your side,” Walker says, quietly. “Who also knows everything about the politics this country is run on.” He looks at Krin and offers a sorry smile. “And who is also loved by the people.”

  Well, that strikes Krin out.

  “What about Rain?” Walker asks.

  Krin laughs out loud.

  I choke back a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He stares at me, deadpan, and shakes his head.

  “Rain just tried to kill me.”

  This brings a chuckle out of Walker. “No doubt, he’ll try to do it again, then.”

  “That’s oddly not comforting.”

  Krin leans forward in her chair. “Why don’t you let Walker talk to Rain?” She looks at Walker. “Isn’t he like…a son to you?” One doesn’t have to be a therapist to know those last four words were hard for her to choke out. “Maybe—maybe you could talk some sense into him. God knows he won’t listen to me. I already tried.”

  Walker lifts his brows and turns to me. “I might be able to…dissuade him from killing you. Can’t promise that I can wash out his burning hatred toward you, though.”

  “I don’t think a thousand water cannons can wash away his hatred.”

  “In the meantime,” Krin says, looking at me, “why don’t you tell us what your top five problems are.”

  I chew my lip. How can I narrow everything down to five problems? “Okay. Um. I canceled the executions.”

  Walker’s eyes light with approval. “Aurora. That’s—that’s great. When the rest of the Resurgence finds out, they’ll immediately warm up to you.”

  “Well, because I canceled them, the tigers have no food. I guess Titus didn’t store up meat for them. Their main diet was starving prisoners, and now I’m taking that from them.”

  “Let them starve,” Krin says.

  “The Patricians would sooner see me burn.”

  She offers a sad smile. “Right. The Patricians. They always did value the beasts’ lives above those of innocent humans.”

  “Yep. But, I found a solution to the tigers. Nashville is taking some of them, and in return is offering six months’ worth of trading goods. Trouble is, if I don’t return Titus to leadership, Nashville is stopping all future trade. Which means we’ll be stretching our food banks once this six months is up.”

  They both wince.

  “I think what we’ll get from that trade can stretch enough to feed the whole country for a couple months, and since the Proletariats are already pretty much starving, it won’t be a huge change for them until we find another way to get food. However, the Patricians are going to be pissed about losing food.” I blow out a breath. “And they’re the ones who have the power to take me down.”

  “Yes,” Walker says. “But only because they’re the ones conscious of their circumstances.” He runs his hand across the back of his neck. “Aurora, you have to release the antitoxin. Now. You do this, and you’ll have the entire country on your side, including the Resurgence. All the Resurgence wants is for you to prove you’re on their side by freeing everyone from compulsion. This was our mission from the beginning. You do that, and you have the rest of them backing you up, willing to help out in any way possible.”

  I look down.

  “What’s holding you back, niece?”

  I swallow hard, pick at my cuticles, stare out the window at the sun-bathed Frankfort. “They’re going to kill me.”

  “Who?”

  “The politicians,” I whisper. “If not them, then everyone else in Ky. They’re going to want blood for all the years of their lives they lost.”

  His eyes snap with understanding. “If the Proletariats want blood,” he says slowly, “give it to them. Get whatever information you need from Titus, then hand him over to the country.”

  Not a bad idea.

  “The Patricians would not approve,” I say.

  “The Patricians make up one percent of the population,” Krin presses.

  “They have power.”

  “You have your Defenders, who will, no doubt, be on your side once you straighten their minds out. Plus, you have access to the armory.”

  I look at my hands, at the cuticle on my thumb that’s been picked until it bleeds. “War is sure to break out.”

  “Then let it.”

  My eyes snap to Walker’s. He shrugs, not taking anything back. “I always knew there would have to be some sort of battle, some sort of war in order to restore peace. I don’t like it any more than you, but you have two very different groups on your hands, and if they’re going to learn to coexist, then there’s going to have to be a little bit of bloodshed. But with all the Proletariats and Defenders on your side, plus any compassionate Patricians that might be out there, the odds are in your favor. Besides,” he leans back. “You’re not starting a war. If the Patricians want to fight, they’re starting their own war.”

  I sigh. “I don’t want any war, no matter who starts it. The Patricians are one percent, like you said. It shouldn’t take that long to show them I’m on their side. I just need a little more time to clear the
air. I just need to prove to them that I’m their friend.” Just like Titus and Ember were able to do.

  “Aurora.” Krin’s soothing voice brings my head up. “Your father taught you that the Patricians were power, and when he died, Titus ingrained it into your head, telling you to always make them your priority. As much as I tried to show you a different way to live, Titus's reasoning to please the Patricians made more sense, maybe because it’s what worked for so long. But what you forget is, your own mother turned her back on the Patricians. Your mother risked her life to get out of Frankfort. She took Ember so she could raise an Alpha Blood outside the capitol walls. She would have taken you too, if you were healthy. I promise you that. She left you behind for your own good.”

  I nod, remembering the story Walker told me and Ember the night before Titus’s attack. About how I was a sick infant and had to stay behind with the life support. Mother couldn’t wait another day to leave, because the night she left was the one night Father was out of the country. If she’d waited, she would have been stuck in Frankfort.

  She took Ember so Ember could one day return and take over the country. But now Ember’s dead. I wouldn’t say she failed. If she failed, I would still be stuck in my room, unknown and unnoticed. Titus would still be ruler. Ember succeeded. She gave her life so the people of Ky could be free.

  “Aurora,” Krin says. “Do you remember how you felt the first time Titus released you from confinement?”

  How could I ever forget? I remember when he told me I would no longer be locked up. I remember the impossible weight being lifted off my shoulders. I remember stepping out of the mansion for the first time in my life, the sun warming my skin and the trees waving in greeting. I didn’t care who I was supposed to be, how I was supposed to act to fool the people. I was free.

  A tears slips down my cheek and Krin brushes it away. “Now imagine all the people of Ky feeling that same way.”

  That sentence opens up a door of impossibilities in my mind. What am I waiting for? How could I possibly even think about pleasing the Patricians when Mother and Ember both gave their lives for the sake of the Proletariats?

 

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