by Kit Rocha
"Spends all his time finding farmers' daughters to add to his harem," Scott sniped. "If you want a grunting lecher, you might as well vote for O'Kane."
"Gee, thanks," Dallas drawled, grinning at them both, an expression that wasn't fake at all. With the chair beside him empty, a simple majority required no more than four votes. Jernigan and Gideon and Cerys...
And him.
Oh, it was moving fast. Too damn fast. He thought of Jasper discussing recruitment and Dom slavering over the idea of moving into virgin territory. They'd be stretched thin, trying to exert order over chaos...but they had more than a few promising allies. More would come running, gambling on their ability to earn places of power and influence.
The smart, careful move was to say no. To deflect. But Dallas could taste the power, the thrill of owning more territory than anyone else. More chances to turn opportunity into profit, more chances to create something resembling civilization instead of brutality. A chance to stamp out the worst of Trent's abuses, the girls being sold as virtual slaves. The ones like Six, being tortured in spirit and body.
No doubt that was Gideon's endgame. Jernigan's could be as simple as easy money. It wasn't like he could risk his factories on a gamble, and he wouldn't profit if someone else took over.
No, Cerys was the enigma--and the hidden danger. Ignoring the bickering as Scott and Colby started at each other again, Dallas met Cerys's gaze over the empty seat between them. "You sure you're not interested in expanding operations south?"
She answered first with a barely perceptible shake of her head. "I have plenty to occupy myself at the moment, not to mention the hard facts. In my particular business, establishing a base of operations and a solid clientele could take years." She leaned closer. "Years during which no one would be making any money."
Silence settled around the table as men measured greed against laziness, and Dallas weighed his own ambition against the risks inherent in tackling a new territory. He had enough to keep himself neck-deep in toys and trinkets, enough to keep his men happy and his women independent.
But he could have more. They could all have more, including the sorry bastards dying while Trent's men ripped each other to pieces, fighting for scraps.
"I'll do it," he said abruptly. "If we can agree on a percentage worth the risk I'm about to take, I'll do it. And make you all a fuckton of money."
Colby spat a curse. "This is bullshit."
"This is math." Gideon held up his fingers. "Four makes a majority now. Me, Cerys, Jernigan, and Dallas--"
"He can't vote for himself, for fuck's sake," Fleming snarled. "That's ridiculous. O'Kane should abstain, which makes this three against three."
Dallas wasn't surprised when Scott shook his head. If Colby called the sky blue, Scott would die claiming it was red. "Four in favor. Four against two. A majority by any reckoning."
"Then it's done." Cerys gestured toward the two silent servants near the door. "Drinks, gentlemen?"
"Only if it's some of O'Kane's famous whiskey," Scott said, and from the gleam in his eyes, Dallas wondered if the man was envisioning getting a cut of that along with his share of Sector Three.
He could dream.
As the taller server started toward the table, Colby shot out of his chair, upending it with a clatter that made Fleming jump. "If you're going to waste time celebrating this ridiculous, hollow victory, I'll be leaving. Some of us have work to do in our sectors."
The door slammed, and Jernigan snorted over the glass one server had already slid in front of him. "Someone's got his panties in a bunch."
Fleming met Jernigan's gaze coolly. "You don't have to be ridiculous to think this all happened too fast. Quick decisions make for deep regrets."
"Not for me. If this goes south, I've lost nothing." He smirked at Dallas. "No offense."
Dallas lifted his own glass and faked his way through a barbaric grin. "What could go wrong?"
Chapter Ten
Most people in Sector Two would say Avery had done very well for herself.
It was true--if you judged such things by luxury and opulence. Lex perched on the edge of a damask settee and tried to study the receiving room objectively. The furnishings were expensive in an understated way that spoke of money and taste, never veering over the line between tactful and tacky. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over a small but lush garden, and even through the sheer drapes obscuring the glass, she could see at least four gardeners busily tending the foliage.
They had to be finished, after all, before the master of the house arrived home for the day.
Lex would have rather been sitting on a wooden crate back home, getting splinters in her ass.
The servant who'd answered the door reappeared, edging into the room holding a silver tray laden with an elaborate tea set. The delicate porcelain cups rattled on their saucers as she hugged the wall, her gaze darting nervously to Lex--and Mad, who lurked behind her like a dark shadow decorated with menacing tattoos and deadly silver knives.
"Lady Avery will see you shortly," the old woman murmured, scurrying forward to drop the tray on the carved table in front of Lex. It thumped down on the wood from two inches in the air, and the servant was out the door before the cups finished rocking.
"Maybe we're overdressed," Mad said, his tone amused.
"Dangerously uncultured is more like it." The nervous fluttering in Lex's stomach had kicked up into a rolling boil, and she clenched her hands around the edge of the bench. "The knives are a great touch, though."
Mad dropped one hand to her shoulder. For only a moment, long enough to squeeze encouragingly, but that one touch said it all. He wasn't just her bodyguard, he was her brother, her family, bound by ink instead of blood, but bound every bit as tight.
He released her with a chuckle. "The knives are useful. People are so busy staring at them, they don't notice the gun until I've already shot them."
"Violent misdirection. Nice."
"Lovely to be appreciated. Are you--?"
He cut off abruptly, and Lex heard the sound a heartbeat later. The creak of an old hardwood floor under hurried footsteps, and Mad hissed out a surprised breath when a woman stepped through the door.
It had been twelve years since Lex had seen her sister, years that had turned a confused child with skinned knees into a woman. The resemblance was still there, though Avery was taller, softer around the edges.
Lex rose. "Hey, kid."
Avery's gauzy white dress brushed the floor as she rushed across the room. Ignoring Mad completely, she stopped a few short steps in front of Lex, her hands trembling as she lifted them to cup Lex's face. "It's you. Oh, Alexa..."
Forget the butterflies. The bottom dropped out of Lex's stomach, and her throat squeezed tight with tears. "You grew up."
"So did you." Avery's worried gaze roamed Lex's face, as if drinking in every detail. "Are you all right? Are you safe?"
Christ knew what she thought about Sector Four and what went on there. What she'd been told. "It's not like that. I'm good."
Uncertainly, Avery glanced to Mad and back, but she'd been trained every bit as thoroughly as Lex. With the first shock out of the way, she schooled her features. "Will you introduce me to your companion?"
The way she said it made it clear she thought he was the one who'd put the collar around her neck. "This is my friend, Maddox. Dallas has him on guard duty today."
Out of the corner of her eye, Lex caught Mad's gentlemanly bow and devastating smile. "The queen can't wander around outside her sector without a bodyguard."
"Mad."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I don't need your protection. Not in this."
He sighed softly, but after that he kept his mouth shut.
Avery wet her lips before inclining her head. "Maddox. Any friend of my sister's is a welcome guest in my patron's home. There are tea and refreshments, or I can have a more substantial meal brought for you. I only ask that you pardon my rudeness in inviting Alexa alone to wal
k in the garden with me."
Leather creaked as Mad shifted behind Lex. "Technically you're not out of sight if I can see you through the door, I guess."
Or the walls. "He'll wait," she told her sister. "Lead the way?"
Avery turned so sharply that her white gown flared around her ankles. The sliding door squeaked as she pulled on the handle, and the sound sent the gardeners scurrying toward a break in the hedge.
Lex's sister led her to a padded bench wrapped around a pool dominated by a large stone fountain. It was cleverly designed, with water cascading over rocks stacked one upon the other with careful artlessness.
Avery settled on the bench and held out a hand to Lex. "I can hardly believe you're here."
"No fu--uh, no kidding." Lex sat without touching her sister's hand. The distance was vital, because her brain couldn't catch up with reality.
Her last memories of Avery were shrouded in darkness and secrecy, one last clandestine meeting during Lex's flight from Orchid House. She'd been barely more than a child herself, but already so, so old. And Avery...
Lex spoke without thinking, the words tumbling out across her clumsy tongue. "If I'd known they were going to sell you too, I'd have dragged you with me."
"I know." Avery smoothed her hands over her silken skirt before settling them in her lap, her fingers laced together. "You were my big sister, my protector. I always knew you'd walk barefoot through flames for me."
"I should have known." And she had, enough to realize that Cerys would never take on Avery after Lex's defection. What hadn't occurred to her was that her parents would be able to sell her sister to another house.
"Don't borrow regret, Alexa. I won't claim I wasn't frightened when I was taken to Rose House, but training as a rose is less...intense than as an orchid. I received an incomparable education, and I now live in more luxury than we could have imagined as children."
"With a man you didn't choose."
"With a man who doesn't dare mistreat me." Avery's eyes were suddenly so old, older than Lex felt. Ancient. "We're clinging to civilization after the end of everything. After the end of the world. At least my patron cares about being seen as civilized."
Silly, stupid, but Lex couldn't help how the words rankled. "Appearances don't mean shit, not when you get right down to it."
Avery's eyes widened. "Oh no, I didn't mean--" She shook her head and closed her eyes. "I'm making a mess of this, because I don't know where to start. I don't know the truth of your life, only what the head of Rose House told me, and I'm not so simple as to believe those stories unembellished. They watched me, because I'm a Parrino. You're practically a fairytale, Lex. A myth. Cerys doesn't often lose control of her girls."
A question hung in Lex's throat, the one she hadn't thought to ask until just now because it had seemed impossible. Unthinkable. "Are you happy here?"
A broken laugh spilled free of her sister. "I've been working up the courage to ask you the same thing. What does that say about us?"
"I have everything." Lex wondered at how hollow the words must have sounded to someone who considered her way of life horrifying and deviant. "You heard Mad, right? Queen of Sector Four."
"So it's true?" Avery's gaze dipped to Lex's wrists, where her ink flashed beneath the cuffs of her jacket. "You belong to one of the sector gangs?"
"The gang in Four. The only one."
"And the leader, O'Kane. He's...kind to you?"
"Dallas is--" Belatedly, Lex remembered she bore faint bruises on her throat, not only from Noelle and Jasper's party, but from the night before. She fought the urge to lift her fingers to her skin, but she couldn't, not entirely, so she compromised by touching the lacy edge of her collar. "He gives me everything. He--"
It was no use. Nothing she could reveal without scandalizing her sister sounded like more than a man lavishing meaningless, material gifts on his property. Dallas was so many things--maddening, lovable, hers--
And none of that could be conveyed with simple words.
The door whispered open before she could find more complicated ones, and Avery flowed to her feet as a man joined them in the garden. Tall and solid, he looked like a distinguished businessman sliding into middle age with grace. His suit was carefully tailored, his silvering hair neatly trimmed, but his face was lined with stress and worry, and his gait was uneven, like he fought to hide a limp.
Not an unattractive man, not a monster. Avery hurried to his side, pulled by a force stronger than gravity. "Gordon, I didn't expect you back so soon."
"I decided they could do without me for the morning. I didn't realize you'd have company." He was tall enough that Avery fit under his chin, and he tugged her into an absent embrace as he studied Lex over her sister's head.
One look into his eyes and Lex saw his words for a lie--the man knew exactly who she was, knew her relationship to the woman tucked against his chest. The hand he settled on Avery's hip was as proprietary as the way he stroked her hair, running his fingers over the unbound length as if petting a cat.
When Avery leaned into the touch, all but purring, Lex had her answer. Her sister wasn't just happy. She was blissful. The warm, relaxed tone of her voice almost shouted it as she turned her cheek to Gordon's hand. "It's the most wonderful thing. My sister Alexa has come to visit me."
"She has, has she?" Perfectly polite words, but when Avery turned to face Lex, the wary protectiveness returned to Gordon's eyes. "Welcome to my home, Alexa. I assume the man in the receiving room belongs to you?"
The way he said man meant something else altogether: thug. "Not quite, but close. He's my guard." A word this man would understand more than friend.
"I see." He guided Avery back to the bench and urged her to resume her seat with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Do you plan to stay for dinner? I'm sure the cook can make accommodations."
His hand slipped back into the dark, unbound mass of Avery's hair, and Lex stared. So easy to see in that gentle touch clear echoes of the way Dallas touched her. Absently but constantly, movement without conscious choice, his hands resolving to stroke through need and sense memory alone.
And Avery worshiped her patron, pure and simple. Her regard was a shining, tangible thing, comforting and repelling Lex all at once.
Did she stare at Dallas like that, blind with something beyond adoration?
"I have to go." She'd come fully prepared to enlist Mad as an accomplice if she needed to drag her sister away from this damn place...but she hadn't prepared for this.
The pleasure vanished from her sister's face, all that light snuffed out by her words. "So soon? I thought we could spend time together."
"I can't." The truth, for what it was worth. "We're leaving tonight after Dallas's meetings."
"A pity," Gordon murmured, and he sounded earnest. Maybe he was, if only out of concern for Avery. He bent to kiss her brow. "I'll leave you two to the time you have, pet." Straightening, he nodded to Lex. "Alexa."
The way he said her given name straightened her spine. "Gordy."
His lips twisted in disapproval as he turned away, but Avery didn't notice. She watched, tense with concern, as his uneven strides took him back to the house. "His knee bothers him when he's tired," she whispered once he'd disappeared through the door. "He was only a boy when the lights went out, but he was injured in the riots."
You could leave. Come with me. Lex bit her tongue. Avery would no sooner leave Sector Two than she herself would stay.
"Take care," she whispered instead. "And remember your training. What to do if he hurts you."
Avery blinked and turned to meet Lex's eyes. "He won't," she replied just as quietly. "He's not a perfect man. But I've seen my house sisters go to men who work them or hurt them, who call them whores and break their souls. Gordon wants a pretty girl in his bed and someone to dote upon. How selfish would I be to ask for more in a world where so many have nothing at all?"
"Maybe more isn't selfish at all. Maybe it's what you deserve."
"D
eserve?" After an uncertain moment, she looked away. "I don't like to imagine a world where we all get what we deserve. I think my heart would break to imagine most people deserve what they have gotten."
She had it backwards, had twisted the words into something damning. Lex released a slow breath--a goodbye. She and Avery shared more than blood. Once, they'd shared the same origin and ultimate fate, even the same values.
But exile had changed Lex in ways she couldn't articulate. Here, in some of the poshest surroundings Sector Two had to offer, Avery heard words of hope as condemnation. Back home, in grungy, dirty Sector Four, the same observation would have been met with indignation. Fight.
She missed that fire already.
"I have to go." She clasped her sister's hand for a moment and rose. "Be happy, Avery."
"I will, if you promise the same."
Mad was staring through the glass, agitated and intent. "I promise," Lex whispered.
Avery smiled and let her go.
Mad all but dragged Lex through the house, past the relieved servant and out onto the cobblestone sidewalk. His arm slid around her waist as soon as they were around the corner. "You okay, honey?"
Honest concern demanded an honest answer. "No. Let's get the fuck out of here."
Chapter Eleven
"It's not my secret to share," Gideon said for the third time, leaving Dallas to wonder if punching the grandson of God's supposed prophet was blasphemous enough to endanger his already questionable place in the afterlife. After all the effort it had taken to convince Bren to lag behind while he walked with Gideon, this was the only answer the damn man would give when it came to Lex, over and over like some broken pre-Flare toy.
It's not my secret to share.
God damn the bastard, anyway. Him and his meddling and his morals. "Fine, let's talk about some secrets that are yours to share. Like what you're hoping to get out of Three."