“You want me to give you info for the Indy Tribe, so you can start milking support off of them?”
“Just give me their shoddy contact info and let them decide if they want to help.”
A pause. “Fine. But I’ll need my phoneband back. That’s where their phone number’s kept.”
“I can give you your phoneband just long enough to get the number.”
“You’re not gonna let me keep it?”
I release a hollow laugh. “After all your threats on my life, you think I’m going to give you access to contacting the Resurgence and the Indy Tribe, unsupervised? Yeah, no. Sorry, Rain, but you’re still my prisoner.” I open the bathroom door, my job done here. “You can finish your shower in private. Get dressed. There’s a ball tonight, and a certain someone is dying to see you. I’ll give you your phoneband then, and you can give me the number.” Before he can respond, I close the door.
When I step out of the room, I gesture a guard from down the hall. “Have two guards watch over Rain at all times, please.”
“Yes, chief.”
“Do not let him leave the mansion without my consent.”
“Of course.”
I step down the hall, glad I won’t have to witness Rain’s rage when he finds out he’ll still be monitored by guards.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AURORA
A warm yellow glow floods the ballroom when I step in. A long table loaded with fresh bread, exotic meats, and refined alcohol takes up both sides of the room, reminding me that we don’t have much of this good food stocked up. The music stops and everyone pauses their dancing to face me. Taking a deep breath, I descend the stairs.
Titus always made a grand entrance. I remember watching him on my screen from my bedroom. I remember the longing to be with him, to have my arm linked through his, not because I wanted to be next to him, but because I wanted to be recognized and known.
Now the people know me. At least, they know who I am. They bow as I pass by, and I wish I could be invisible, because the looks in their eyes reveal anything but admiration. They whisper among themselves. A couple of girls shoot me a glare. I smile at them anyway. Straighten my shoulders, keep my chin held high, hide the fear from my eyes, because any fear will give them the upper hand. And I keep myself together like this until I arrive at my throne. A flip of my hand and the music resumes. And so does the dancing.
Exhale.
A servant brings me a glass of white wine. I take a sip, then another, then drain the glass and set it down and grab another. I’m going to need as much alcohol as possible to get through tonight.
“You better slow down there, vixen.”
All muscles tense at the sound of Rain’s musical voice. I glance over to find him, newsboy cap perfectly crooked and bored smirk in place.
“You’re bouncing back to you old self, I see.”
His smirk vanishes, and a muscle works in his jaw. “I would bounce a lot faster if this party was half like those like Titus threw.” He sweeps his hand in the general direction of the ballroom. “Red and white wine only? No mixed drinks? No bourbon?”
“I have to ration the goodies out until we can find another country to trade with. Like your Indy Tribe.”
“They’re not my Indy Tribe any more than Nashville was yours. Mm-k?”
“We’ll see. Remind me to get your phoneband so you can contact your friends. Also, I’m going to make an announcement here, shortly.” I force the friendliest smile I can muster, but by the disgusted look on Rain’s face, I know he can see right through it. “I need you to stand by my side and at least pretend to support me. The people look up to you. Anything you say will get them on my side five times faster than anything I do or say.”
“There’s a reason for that,” he mumbles.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” He avoids my gaze, stares at the ballroom. “I’ll stand by your side.” Then he pins me with those gray eyes. “But please don’t make me say anything. I am done playing the two-faced jackal.” With that, he walks away, but doesn’t get far before Cherry links her arm through his and leads him straight to the drinks.
I smother a smirk and scan the ballroom. Azar Smith dances with a girl named Jasmine. Olivia Doss is dancing with Brendan. Walker is dancing with LeighAnn, and I can’t help but smile. They’ve known each other a while, I know that much. But what else is lurking beneath the surface between these two? Two people spin in front of them, interrupting my train of thought.
Rain and Cherry.
Ugh. Typical.
I wonder if Rain knows yet that Cherry was the one who begged me to let him come. He flirted with her plenty but pretty much ditched her when Ember made an appearance. Everyone knows that Ember is dead and I’m her twin, so Cherry must believe she has Rain all to herself.
But how does Rain feel about her? Only a month after Ember passed, could he already develop feelings for someone else? And why do I even care?
Heaving out a sigh, I scan the ballroom. Apart from those already here, none of the Resurgence came. I had Walker invite them via his phoneband, but apparently they still don’t trust me. Can’t blame them. The biggest achievement I’ve made since becoming chief was piss off the Patricians.
The song ends. A few people make their way to my throne and thank me for throwing the best party of the year, praise me for my taste in music and style, even though I had nothing to do with the arrangements of this party. And, besides, Rain already informed me how shoddy it was compared to Titus's feasts. But I force my practiced smile and nod, offer a few kind words in return, because I know it took a lot of guts for these people to approach me like this in front of the others who loathe me. Maybe Krin was right when she told me there are a few people in Frankfort who support my leadership. A new song begins to play. More dancing. No one asks me to dance, thank my lucky stars. To further dissuade anyone who might be considering it, I hunch forward and rest my chin in my fists, trying to appear as informal as possible.
Then I see Mcallister walking my way. He looks strikingly handsome, dressed in a fitted tuxedo. I’ve never noticed how attractive he is. I never noticed how focused his eyes are, how set his jaw is when he’s on a mission. I’m suddenly acutely aware of my own appearance. Sitting up straighter, I smooth out my dress and offer a more genuine smile.
He bows at the foot of the throne. “Your Highness.”
“Chief,” I correct. “Highness is a title fit for royalty.”
He looks up and offers a small smile. “Chief, then. Would you give me the honor of this dance?”
A breath of surprise escapes me. I almost refuse, but then, sitting here the past thirty minutes has been boring. “Of course.”
Stepping down from the throne, I take his hand and allow him to whisk me across the dance floor.
“Are you taking pity on me, Mcallister?”
“You did look awfully bored sitting on your throne. Alone.”
“I’ve spent nearly seventeen years of my life in solitude. Being surrounded by this many people without talking to them is the extent of the socialization I require.”
His lips pull up in a half-smile, and he turns me to face him. His hand is warm and strong in mine, reminding me of his job as Captain of Defenders, and how he acquired that title at such a young age because of his strength and agility and skill with a gun. His other hand curls around my lower back, offering security, and a chill runs through me.
I’ve known how to dance since I was young. Krin taught me all forms of noble etiquette. But she was my only dancing partner, apart from Titus, and Titus was not exactly a romantic partner, even if we did have a child together.
A child.
Gideon. Where is Gideon? Why won’t Titus just tell me where he is? Why does he have to be so difficult?
“Your mind is spinning faster than every dancer here, Aurora.”
I glance at Mcallister’s warm, black eyes. “It hasn’t really stopped sinc
e I became chief.”
“What thoughts keep you so distracted all the time?”
I offer a small shrug. “I’ve spent my life in a solitary room with absolutely no obligations or responsibilities hanging over my head. Now I’m surrounded by people and have a country to run. I guess I’m still adjusting.”
He nods and looks past me. “Yes. Leading a country is difficult, I imagine. Just running my own line of Defenders was a challenge.” He whirls me out, then pulls me back in. “If it’s too much, though, you could always shrink back out of existence and let Titus become chief again.”
I stop dancing. “Am I so bad that you want him back?”
He stares down at me, unfazed. “Do you ever consider making him chief again?”
Is this a test? I bark out a laugh of disbelief. “No. Absolutely not. I mean, being chief has its challenges, but never once has it crossed my mind to let him lead. He’s a terrible person.”
He laughs humorlessly and runs his hand through his cropped hair. “If you think he’s so terrible, then why are you keeping him alive?”
His words form a fist in my stomach. “Because he has something I want.”
“The whereabouts of your son.”
I nod.
He presses his lips together. Swallows. People are dancing around us, so he takes my elbow and gently guides me off the dance floor until we reach the drinks table. Then he turns to face me.
“You need to find that information soon, Aurora. Rain and Walker are getting restless. As am I. I know you think you have everything under control, but Titus is always one step ahead. When I saw him yesterday, he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about his imprisonment. Which means he has something planned.”
I nod and look down at my hands. Just one more problem to add to my overflowing plate. I’m all too familiar with Titus's ways. He confided his plans to me several times when I was his prisoner. He’s always been ahead of his enemies.
“Do you want me to…?” Mcallister stops speaking, then clears his throat. “Do you want me to…torture it…out of him?”
I look sharply at him. “You would enjoy that too much.”
He winces. “If we get footage of his torture, the Resurgence could witness it. It could be the first sign that you’re on their side. Plus, you could get the information you want about Gideon.”
I hadn’t really thought of using torture as a way to get the Resurgence to trust me. Titus wouldn’t actually have to die. Although I know he will never give up the information of Gideon until I offered something in exchange, like giving him his leadership back. And if I did that, he could lock me up again. He could take Gideon back again. It would all have been pointless.
But maybe torture is just the push he needs to realize that I don’t care for him as much as he would like to think and that his life is on the line. Before I know it, I find myself nodding. “Okay. Yeah.”
“Perfect. Tomorrow morning? First thing?”
I nod again.
“Good. I’ll arrange to have some Defenders present and to have a camera crew there, and of course Rain and Walker will be delighted.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll make the arrangements right now, then.”
“That’s fine, but I’m not sure you have the authority to do that. I mean, you kind of lost your Defenderhood when you left with the Resurgence, and we haven’t had you sworn in again.” I bite my lip. “I don’t need the politicians to have reason to hate me any more than they already do.”
A hardness fills his eyes. “Yes. Well. I suppose you are the only one who could officially swear me back in, right? I mean, there’s like a whole process where you’re supposed to look me in the eye and brainwash me into serving you and only you, no matter how many people die or get hurt. Right?” His voice holds the edge of bitterness and reeks of accusation, and, for some reason, these words coming from Mcallister really, really hurt.
I release his hand. Step back. “That was Titus's way, yes.”
“And what about you?” His voice is low and deceptively soothing as he steps toward me. “What is your way, Aurora?”
My way. I can have my own way. Because I’m chief and I can do whatever I want with the law. I lift my chin. “Go ahead and make the arrangements, then come find me. I’ll return you to your position as a Captain of Defenders, and I’ll do it right.”
Something softens in his coffee eyes, and he inclines his head slightly. “Yes, Chief.” Then he bows and walks away, leaving me wondering why, exactly, I always feel so safe around him and completely exposed without him, when I’m not entirely sure he’s even on my side.
I pick up a glass of white wine and take a few gulps.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?”
The wine turns sour on my tongue as it slides down my throat, and I turn to look at Rain, a bottle of rum in his own hand. “I could say the same for you. Where did you even get that?”
He narrows his eyes. “I have connections.”
“Great.” I lift a careless shoulder. “Well, enjoy it. I’m cutting you off after tonight.”
His eyes widen and he opens his mouth to object, but a smile fights its way to my lips, giving me away.
“Holy Crawford,” he says. “Don’t even joke about that.” He shakes his head and takes another drink of his rum. “Mcallister just told me you were going to torture your brother.” He casts a sidelong glance. “Is that true?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t understand why you won’t kill him and just get it over with.”
“I need him to tell me where Gideon is.”
“Gideon?” He raises a brow in question. “Who the shoddy rot is Gideon?”
I forgot that very few people know about Gideon. Apart from Krin, Ember, Mcallister, and Walker, I’ve kept that information secret. And I wonder if I could trust Rain with it.
“He’s…my son,” I finally say.
He almost chokes on his drink. “You have a son?”
I brace myself for his mockery coming in three…two…
“You sleazy little hooker.”
There it is. Heat invades my face, but I try to hide it, ignore him, pretend to look for someone important in the ballroom. Like curtains. We really need to switch those pomegranate curtains out for something a shade darker and more refined.
Rain leans in and whispers, “Who’s the daddy?”
My throat tightens. Rein it in.
“None of your business.” Lord knows if I tell him Titus is the father, Rain will want to kill Gideon, too. Ad he’ll have even more reason to think I’m working with Titus.
He blows out a sigh. “Just another Whitcomb I’ll have to hunt down when all this blows over, I suppose.”
Forget reining it in. Spinning around, I grab his collar and shove him against the wall. His brows flicker in surprise, and then he grins in satisfaction. And that grin makes my blood boil over.
“Don’t you even joke about laying a finger on my son,” I seethe through gritted teeth. “Because if you touch him, Rain, if you so much as mention harming Gideon again, I will lock you up, rip your fingernails out one by one, and feed you to the black tigers.” I lift a brow. “Do you understand?” I know he could easily shove me away, or grab me by the neck and shove me against the wall, right in front of all the people who already hate me. But he stands there, limp beneath my grip, both amusement and something I’m not familiar with flashing in his gray eyes. But his grin is gone. Thank God his grin is gone. I release him and step back, acutely aware of the small audience gathered. So much for using Rain to garner the respect of my people. I’m a total failure at this pleasing-the-Patricians thing.
“I wouldn’t kill a little boy,” Rain mutters just loud enough for my ears alone. He straightens his vest. “And your son might be the only innocent Whitcomb left. At least, when found, he’ll be young enough to train into becoming a good leader after I kill you off.”
His words take me off guard. Not only that this ruthless son of a jackal said he wouldn’t kill Gideon, but that he’s almost offering to train him into leadership if something happens to me. And, I don’t exactly know why, but I feel like I could trust Rain on this one thing. Almost like he’s okay with the Whitcomb blood staying in leadership, as long as it’s good blood. I somehow know in my bones that he’ll never lay a finger on an innocent little boy.
He can kill me.
He can kill Titus.
Just as long as he doesn’t harm Gideon.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RAIN
Aurora Whitcomb has a son. That’s an interesting turn of events, considering she was supposedly locked up all her life. I can’t help but snort, because just like Titus, Aurora is packed full of lies.
Someone taps me on the shoulder. I don’t have to turn to know it’s Cherry. Her fruity perfumes choke the air instantly. Nonetheless, I spin around to face her.
She smiles that annoying smile that I’m sure she believes is enticing.
“Dance time,” she says in a sultry voice, holding out her hand expectantly. Smothering a sigh, I set my bottle down and take her hand. We head out to the dance floor. I wrap my arm around her small waist and hold her close as we whisk across the floor.
“So how’s your little get-into-the-politician-circle project coming?” I ask, cringing at my poor attempt at small talk.
“I’m not sure I want to be a politician anymore.”
“Wow. Cherry. Full of surprises, as ever.”
“I want to be a reporter.”
I can’t stop my nose from scrunching in disgust. “A reporter? Why a reporter?” I spin her around then pull her back in.
“I wanted to be a politician because they knew the dirt on everyone. But…what fun is that, if you have to monitor what you say to others at the risk of pissing of the chief? Reporters are expected to report all the gossip they know…to the world.” She winks and flashes her signature smile. “I think I would excel as a reporter.”
“That you would.” I spin her around again, and we begin making our way across the room.
white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3) Page 10