by Brinda Berry
“Huh?” She glanced at the bag he’d taken. “Not really. Just don’t want you to starve before we can break out.”
“Yes. I know.” She acted scared that he might think she cared. But she did. No matter what she said. He’d never thought it important before, to have people who worried about his comfort. He’d always taken care of himself. He held the bag and watched her eat.
“You don’t have to eat that. I’m not your mother.”
“You’d make a good mother.” Why had he said that? He was an idiot.
“Hmm…” She acted disinterested. “Not having kids. Ever.”
“You cannot predict that.”
“What about you?” She’d turned that back to him so quickly.
“The Makers decide that.”
“Wow. Just wow.” She shook her head and gave him a disgusted look, her nose wrinkled.
He frowned at her. His response had been automatic, trained, ingrained. “It’s all I know.”
“And why do they decide? Can’t you just want to have children?”
“I’m sure they will ask me to donate sperm.” Was that the right information to give? He knew the concept of this world was totally foreign to her. But the Makers created a strong, safe world for their people. He pushed his doubts to the back of his mind and rubbed his neck.
“Like into a sperm bank.” She nodded. “I’m going to guess that the sperm bank ensures perfect specimens.”
He twisted his head to look at her. “No one is perfect. Not yet.”
“I met Caregiver. When Arizona and I came through the portal I was sick. Very sick. He took me to Caregiver.”
“Did she know what to do?”
“I guess.”
“I’ve never been sick.”
“Lucky you.” She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing like the experience of having the flu or strep throat.”
“Healthy me.” He opened the bag and popped a dried apple into his mouth. He could feel her closing off, her arms crossed, her eyes focused on the wall.
“What did Corona say to you?” He tried hard to make the question light and conversational, but she had to know she couldn’t avoid answering twice.
“That I’m in danger here and that you’re wanted.”
He hadn’t expected her to say that. “That’s true.”
“The dangerous part or wanted part?”
“Both.”
“He showed me the city on monitors. There’s a room with a view from cameras everywhere. Did you know that?”
“Yes. But I am positive he showed you only the pictures he wants you to see.”
She nodded. “Well, yeah. I guess. Do you know why he took me off alone?”
He shrugged and studied the apple slice he held. “I could guess. Or you could tell me to save time.”
“I think he wanted to warn me. Or scare me.”
He turned his head, rubbed the back of his neck, and nodded. “Yes. That would be true.”
“How does he know my middle name is Carina?”
What did Corona know? “I don’t know.” He shrugged and didn’t meet her eyes.
“You want me to answer the questions, but you don’t play fair. No answers from you. Not one.” Her voice had risen to a frustrated squeak.
“I really don’t know how he knows.”
“At least he talked to me.”
“I talk to you.”
“No, you don’t. You answer questions with the least amount of information possible. You think it’s not a lie if you omit things.”
“Ask me the things you want to know.” She wouldn’t ask the important things. The things that had him thinking about her nonstop.
“Oh, you say that, but when I ask something really important…”
“Ask.” He leaned his back against the wall and peered at her beneath his lashes.
“Anything?”
He nodded then turned his head in her direction.
“Why do you keep pushing me?” She looked at him with her head angled and brows lowered.
“Pushing? I don’t understand.”
“Why the kiss on Christmas Eve? It’s like you’re pushing me for some reaction.”
“Wasn’t that the reason for the mistletoe?”
“Yeah. OK. Next question. Why did you get me a Christmas present?”
“Again. That is something I am expected to do.” But that really wasn’t true. In his world, he’d never given gifts. He wanted to see her smile, a smile that went up to her eyes.
“No. It’s not.”
“Yes, it—”
“How much do you remember?” She picked at the worn spot on one knee of her jeans. “About us.”
He was afraid to answer. He didn’t know the right answer. Usually the honest answer was the right one, but he couldn’t risk getting this wrong. His relationship with her was the most confusing, frustrating experience he’d ever had.
“Why do you want to know?” Avoidance wasn’t dishonest.
She shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Curious.”
“Very little.” If he told her he remembered too much, she’d hate him for not telling her.
The lie hung like a curtain between them.
“That can’t be true. I don’t believe you.”
“So, you are a truth-detector now?”
“Might be. I know when you aren’t telling the truth,” she said.
He sighed in defeat. “Occasionally, I get a feeling about something that is familiar and I associate it with you.”
She leaned forward. “Go on.”
“That is it. A feeling. It’s nothing substantial. Nothing real.”
“Feelings are real. I get feelings twenty-four seven. That’s how I find portals. I’ll bet you call that substantial, since it’s something you need from me.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You are not an easy person.”
“Humph.” She ran fingers through her tangled hair. “Explain it to me.”
“If you ask me about the time we watched a movie together, I won’t remember. If you ask me to name your favorite food, I can’t. If you want me to tell you about us, together, that memory isn’t there. But sometimes…”
“Sometimes, what? Go on.”
He rubbed his palms over his face. “A song or a food or place will make me happy and I connect it to you. I see your face. I see you smiling.”
“And that doesn’t that bother you?”
“No. Yes.” He moaned. “The present is more important than the past.”
“You’re right.” She shrugged. “It’s our relationship now that matters. Or lack of one.”
He made a low noise deep in his throat; it sounded like a hurt animal. “You are the most frustrating person I have ever met. I can’t change the past. I can’t change your mind about the IIA. I can’t change the fact that you don’t like me. I can only change the now.”
“I’ve never said I don’t like—”
He’d scooted over until his face was inches from hers. Her deer-in-the-headlights expression forced his predator heart to move closer.
Her big, brown eyes, rich and warm, spoke of innocence. A contradictory combination of trust and wariness that made him want to kiss her.
“This is now.” He caressed her shoulders. When he intended to move back, to put space between them and block out the smell of her skin, she closed the distance.
It was all the invitation he needed. He touched her lips with his, slowly and hesitantly. A tasting that left him wanting more.
Her breathing quickened and she made a little sound that he wondered if he’d really heard.
His hands had fallen to rest gently on her hips. Her hands went around his neck and he moved closer.
Had it been like this before?
He knew this feeling. His mouth on hers was questioning, urging, relieving. Her soft skin, her warm smell, and her sweet mouth were exactly like he’d imagined for weeks.
19<
br />
Betrayal
A tapping at the wall broke the spell Regulus had woven. I opened my eyes, clearing my head in the process.
Regulus tilted his head. “I am tempted to ignore him.”
I bit my bottom lip and blinked hard. “Maybe he’s figured out a way to get out of here.”
“I don’t care right now.”
I pushed him away and felt the cool air chill me when he sat up.
Moving to sit beside him, I stared up at the ceiling. Fantasy land of normal people and normal kissing—no, hot kissing—disappeared. Reality stepped forward.
“The IIA is looking for us. Corona used my middle name, but I’m not stupid. It has to be me. I don’t have a chip. How do they know I’m here?”
He sighed. “Yes. It’s you. The slang book Em gave me calls this a situation.”
The tick, thunk, thunk, tick against the wall told me that Arizona was signaling in Morse code again.
Regulus listened, ear pressed to the wall, and I tried to wait patiently. I had so many questions. Questions that went beyond the cursory “How will I get home before my dad reports my disappearance to the police?”
“We have to escape. Is Corona going to turn us in?” I went to the glass door and squeezed myself into the corner. Em stood in the same position at her door. She lifted her hand in greeting. I saw her lips move and Austin’s head moved into place above hers. I’d never seen her look so disheveled and tired.
“No. Corona isn’t turning us in. If that were his intention, he would have done that already.”
“How much trouble are you in with the IIA? Have you ever done this before?”
He came to stand at the edge of the door. “Done what?”
“Defy orders. Be a rebel. Do your own thing,” I mumbled, staring at Austin and Em. They were arguing. Em could be passionate, but rarely got angry.
I watched her animated face flush red.
“Never.” He spoke as though he was in a trance.
“Huh?”
“What’s going on with them?” Regulus angled himself sideways for a better view. “Sweetheart.”
He’d never used names like that with me. The word traveled over me like a caress. I took in a deep breath and my hands began to sweat.
“That’s what Austin said to Emily,” he muttered. “Actually, he cursed first and then called her that.”
My face heated to the temperature of the sun at my assumption. Of course he hadn’t been talking to me.
Em and Austin suddenly stopped their discussion as if they’d noticed they were a front-row spectator sport.
Austin moved out of the doorway and Em shook her head at me.
“What is going on?” I mouthed.
Em shook her head again and walked off.
* * *
We’d rationed the dried fruit and the additional bag of dried meat. A guard had escorted me for a restroom break earlier in the morning and I was grateful for small miracles. When I returned, a silver pitcher of ice water sat like a mirage in the corner of the cell.
“Do you do this every day?” I watched him complete another set of ten pushups.
“Mmm hmm.” He didn’t stop his routine, continuing on to sit-ups.
I’d been bored but this definitely had entertainment value. It would explain the abs I’d thought were some cruel stroke of good genetic hijinks.
He peered at me while continuing his exercise. If he thought I would look away, he couldn’t be more wrong. I had nothing but time. I was out of my element in this world. Even if I figured out a way to escape, I had no clue what awaited me on the outside.
I had no phone, computer, television, or books. No wonder people in the old days had over a dozen kids.
I chided my imagination for wandering in that field of oh-don’t-go-there.
“You never answered when I asked why the IIA is calling me by my middle name.”
“Does it matter?”
“Oh, that’s not evasive.” I rolled my eyes. “Yes. It matters. No one calls me that. Why start now?”
“It is the name your mother agreed on giving you. The Makers requested it.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “What do the Makers have to do with Nancy?”
He lifted one eyebrow and stopped in the middle of a sit-up, reclining on his elbows. “Why don’t you call her ‘mother’? You don’t use your father’s given name.”
“I asked first.”
He sighed then continued his sit-ups.
I groaned and rolled onto my back. “OK, OK. I don’t call her mother because she didn’t take care of me when I was a kid. I didn’t know her. Satisfied?” I waited a beat. “Your turn.”
“What do you know of your mother?”
“Nancy,” I corrected. “Nothing really. Why do you think I’m asking you questions?”
“She was a research scientist when she was young.”
“Yeah. Dad told me that he met her while she was taking soil samples on the mountain.”
“Soil samples? Who told you that? She was a geneticist.”
“Oh.” Another dark secret that my father didn’t know.
“She went to work for the IIA.”
“As a geneticist?”
“No. As a portal finder. Did I not tell you these things? She was like you.”
“Um…no. I’d remember this. And she was nothing like me.” My heart was slamming in my chest.
“I only meant that she could sense things in the world that others could not.” He stopped exercising.
Calm down. I began chewing on my thumbnail.
“Mia, stop. Mia.”
The urgency in his voice startled me. “What?” I hadn’t realized he’d moved from the floor and now sat on the bed.
He grabbed my wrist and brought my hand away from my mouth. “You’re bleeding.”
I stared at my tortured thumbnail instead of at him. “It’s nothing but dead skin.”
Instead of releasing my hand, he pressed it to his chest. “You’re safe with me. You’ll be home soon. You don’t have to be afraid.” His voice lulled with its musical quality.
I pulled my hand back.
“I’m not afraid. I’m mad. Do you know how mad I am?” I wanted to roar my frustration.
He shook his head, looking at me like I was the world’s largest puzzle.
“I’ve been tricked my entire life into thinking that my mother left because she sucked. Because I sucked. Because our family was not enough for her and she wanted a different husband, or a different kid, or a different life. Well, who knew she was the great pretender. A liar. A thief who stole what every kid deserves. And now she’s dead and I won’t ever understand why she did this to us.”
Sweat slicked my palms and my heartbeat thumped in my ears. I wanted to crawl into a tight ball, but he wouldn’t let me.
Instead, he put his arms around me and held me.
“I can tell you the things you want to know. I have a file on Nancy Taylor, remember? I can tell you facts.” His mouth was against my hair.
“Facts.” I nodded. “You’ll tell me everything in the file? You won’t leave out anything?”
“Yes. But I also need to concentrate on leaving this place and getting you home. Getting Emily and Austin home.”
“What about Bleeker?”
“He’s probably far away from the Garden by now.”
I pulled out of his arms. “We have to get him. If we’re close, we can’t give up. This place is the Garden?”
He brushed the hair out of my eyes and gave a tight smile. “Yes. This is the Garden. A place you are not authorized to visit. I should be here alone. Arizona was wrong to bring you.” Regulus glanced up at the wall separating us from Arizona and frowned.
“He was worried about you. You’re his family. Don’t you know that? That’s why he came.”
“And what about you? Why did you come?”
I cleared my throat. My mind raced for something witty and noncommittal. Noncommittal in that it had nothing to
do with him and everything to do with Bleeker. Noncommittal in that my heart wasn’t a factor in my decision to risk my life. Noncommittal in that I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone harming him.
Instead, I looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
“Back to my name. Why do they have a warrant out for Carina?” I asked.
“I almost forgot that question.” He grimaced. “Mia Carina, Peter Antares. We’re named for stars or systems. Our jailer Corona and the girl, Cassie, are too.”
“And this is where I ask you to speak English. I don’t have a clue what you are talking about.” I frowned with an intensity I usually saved for linear algebra class.
“Sorry. We are named after the stars.”
“Everybody has a star name here?”
“No. Only certain citizens have a star name.”
“I’m not a citizen. And Pete isn’t either.”
“Nancy Taylor contracted with—”
A whooshing sound stopped Regulus from completing his sentence. The door to our cell had opened. Corona and Cassie stood with two guards at the entrance.
“We’d like to speak with you. Follow us to a more comfortable room,” Cassie said to me. Her disapproving face said she didn’t like me. After what Corona had said, I’d thought it was because she’d assumed I was with Arizona. Maybe not.
Regulus and I rose from the bed and began walking to the door.
“No. Only Mia Carina,” Corona said.
“He comes with me. I’m not going without him.” I edged closer to Regulus, hoping they wouldn’t force me.
Corona and Cassie exchanged looks loaded with silent words. It reminded me of talking with Em and saying volumes with a glance at each other.
“Come.” Corona beckoned.
“And Arizona. I want Arizona there, too.” I thought I’d push for everything I could get.
I could almost see Cassie gritting her teeth. Corona smiled. Not an easy smile, but a recognition of the power play.
“Yes. Arizona may be present also. Any more demands?” Corona waved us to the door.
“No.”
“Good. Let’s go to the west wing,” Corona said.
Several minutes later, we’d wound through a maze to end in the room I recognized from earlier. The minute I walked in the door, I heard Em’s voice and wanted to cry from sheer joy. I hadn’t asked for her, but she was there.