by Kit Rocha
"I ate already." Just a rations bar, but it fit the bill. She wasn't hungry anyway, so let the people who were have a hot meal. "What about you?"
His smile was a sad echo of his usual grin. "Lili wouldn't give me the news from Eden until I'd had two bowls."
The mention of Eden did what the rubble couldn't. Scarlet's heart started thumping painfully, and she forced herself to slowly count to three before replying. "And what is the news?"
"Nothing." When she didn't take the water, he twisted off the cap and took a long swig. "It makes me nervous. I figured they'd be clogging the vid network with propaganda before the dust settled."
"Probably scrambling to think of a way to spin a bunch of hookers and kids as an imminent security threat."
"They'll find a way." He drained the rest of the water. "But something must have happened to spook them, or they wouldn't have gone forward without all that in place."
He had far more faith in the city and its leaders than she ever did. "Are you—?"
"Excuse me." A man stood a few feet away, his reddish-blond hair dirty with soot, his blue eyes fixed on Mad as if he were staring at the gates of heaven. "Can I get you another bottle of water?"
Mad's expression froze into a polite mask. "I'm fine, thank you."
The redhead shifted his weight nervously. "I could take the empty one away for you."
After a moment's hesitation, Mad extended his hand and offered him the bottle. "Thank you."
"It's an honor. An honor to serve." The man thrust out his right arm in obvious pride. His shirt was rolled up past the elbow, and an elaborate tattoo covered his forearm—a woman with ethereal features and wild, flowing black hair entwined with roses. Her hands met in front of her vivid blue dress, cradling a glowing heart between them.
At the sight of it, Mad's jaw tightened. But he only smiled stiffly. "It's beautiful work. Del's, isn't it?"
Beaming, the man nodded. "Sponsored by Maricela herself."
"If you did her a service, then I'm grateful."
"It's an honor," he said again, and for a second Scarlet thought he was about to drop to his knees in front of Mad. Instead he touched the tattoo, his eyes worried. "Our youngest wife... She's having a difficult time with her first pregnancy."
A muscle in Mad's jaw worked. He reached out and covered the other man's hand. "I'll ask her to look after your wife."
The redhead dropped into a low bow. "Thank you. Thank you, bless you."
The man hurried away, almost stumbling in his haste. Scarlet held her tongue until she was out of earshot, just barely, and then the words exploded out of her. "Okay, what the fuck was that?"
Mad laughed harshly as he turned. "That was a man with a tattoo of my dead mother on his arm, asking me for her blessing."
Scarlet had teased him about the blessings—mercilessly, even—but the tense scene that had just played out before her was anything but funny. "I'm sorry."
He shrugged one shoulder. "Whoever he is, he deserves a little comfort. Maricela's my cousin. If she paid for his tattoo, he's a good person."
"Yeah, that's not the part I'm sorry about." If people followed her around all eight sectors, waving tattoos of her dead father in her face, she wouldn't be so casual about it. Something told her Mad wasn't, either. "Hey."
He didn't look at her. "Can we find a tent? If I stand here, more people will come over."
With most of the survivors already moved to Sector One, there were plenty of tents. Scarlet had claimed one away from the aid stations. She dragged Mad there, zipped the flap behind them, and shoved a flask into his hand.
He stared at it for an endless moment before taking a drink. "All they want is a few seconds of my time. I'm the only one in the family who resents them for it."
Because it hurt. He didn't have to say so, not with the pain etched across his face. "If you're the only one who resents it, then I think you're the only one who's human."
"Maybe just the only one who knows any other kind of life." He passed the flask back to her. "Sometimes I want to go back there and smuggle Maricela out. Gideon would murder me, but I still think about it."
Scarlet drank, too. "Does she want out?"
"No." For the first time, his smile was real. "She's stubborn. She wants to protect the world."
"Must take after you, then."
He reached for the flask, but his fingers wrapped around hers, rough and warm. "I don't want to protect the world. Just my corner of it."
Gods and saints didn't limit themselves to tiny corners. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but he was staring at her with those dark, dark eyes, watching her with an intensity that prickled over her skin.
At first, she'd told herself that flirting with Mad was a way to keep him humble. When that excuse fell apart, she figured that Jade was interested, so any way she could get under Mad's skin was preparation for the inevitable day he tumbled into their bed.
It was all bullshit. Scarlet flirted with him because she wanted to flirt with him.
Because she wanted him.
Mad tugged the flask toward his lips without releasing her hand. His gaze held hers as he slowly drank.
Don't, Scarlet. The words echoed in her head, but they seemed far away. Trivial, because Mad was so close, so warm. His eyes promised sheer pleasure, and after two days of numbness punctuated by despair and terror, she needed it.
She reached out with her free hand and pulled his hair.
He hissed and tossed the flask aside. Before it hit the ground he had an arm around her waist, dragging her against the hard bulk of his body. "You like to fuck mean, don't you?"
"I'm not afraid of it." His hair was so damn soft, and her vicious tug somehow turned into a caress.
Mad stroked a hand up her side, ruthlessly gentle even when it wrapped around her throat. "You like it. Does Jade?"
Of course it came down to that. Scarlet sympathized—you'd have to be dead, fucking six feet under, not to want to get your hands on Jade. "She likes sweet." Scarlet slid her hands over his shoulders, matching her movements to her words. "Soft."
He leaned closer, his warm mouth almost touching hers, his fingers tightening on her neck. "So be mean to me."
Not tonight, maybe not in a million years. Definitely not until Jade was there to take over when Mad had had enough of her being rough. "No."
"Damn it, Scarlet," he murmured, just a whisper of breath that barely formed words before he kissed her.
Soft. Sweet.
But only for a heartbeat. Then he tilted his head and drove deeper, gliding his tongue over hers, and the tiny flutter in Scarlet's belly turned into a clench of need. She moaned and gripped his shoulders harder, using the leverage to wrap her legs around his hips.
He broke away with a groan and pressed his forehead to hers. "We can't do this. You know why we can't do this."
"Because of Jade?" Their bodies were still pressed tightly together, so she eased one hand between them and slid it down toward his belt buckle. "Jade wants to be right here."
His fingers flexed on her hips. "Did she tell you?"
"She didn't have to." Scarlet wrapped her fingers around the leather. "I know what gets my girlfriend off."
"Did she tell you I kissed her?"
She blinked at him. Not because she was shocked that it happened—sooner or later, it was bound to—but because Jade hadn't said a word. "When? How?"
"The day they dropped the bombs." His lips brushed her cheek, and she couldn't understand why he was smiling until he murmured, "Well, first she held a knife to my balls."
"Should've known that would turn you on."
His hands settled at the small of her back. "But she stopped. I figured it was because of you. I don't want to screw up whatever you have going on."
"That's sweet." Scarlet arched an eyebrow. "But if that was a thing, Jade never would have let you kiss her. And I wouldn't be in your lap right now."
He shrugged. "The world's falling apart. Again. Sometimes, when tha
t happens, people do things they end up regretting."
Oh, but he was so quick to assume he fell into that category. "Is that what you and Dylan are doing—stockpiling regrets?"
"I only regret it when I hurt someone." His thumb edged under her shirt, warm against her skin. "I don't know what Dylan regrets. Sometimes I think he's in love with Jade. And sometimes I don't think he gives a shit about anything."
Scarlet had always leaned more toward the latter, though it was getting harder and harder to dismiss the man outright. Sometimes, a glint of agonized humanity broke through his nonchalant façade—and the drug haze—and her heart ached for him.
The rest of the time, all she knew was that he was a time bomb, primed and ticking.
Mad continued, as if he heard her doubts. "He's good on the inside, better than anyone. But I'm not enough to hold him together."
And Mad wanted to save him, because Mad wanted to save the world. She snorted. "If you're thinking Jade and I can get it done, just stop right now. Doc and I aren't exactly on the same page about...well, anything."
"You might be right now," he murmured. "I have to go to Sector One soon. You should come with me. Dylan needs help protecting Jade from herself."
It would have been nice if he'd wanted her to come along because he liked her company, but Scarlet would take what she could get. "Okay."
"If we go to One…" He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
She filled in the silence. "Don't sweat it. I'll stay out of your way."
His hands tightened again, dragging her closer, and he buried his face in her hair. "Don't," he whispered hoarsely. "Jade's hurting, Dylan's focused on work. You'll be the only person in the damn sector who sees me."
The naked need in his voice shook her. It wasn't physical, like the erection still pressing between her thighs. It came from someplace deeper, more vulnerable.
So she held him. "All right. It's all right. I'll be there for you and Jade."
"Good." He pulled back and gave her a lopsided smile. "Someone's got to keep my ego deflated over there."
Somehow she didn't think that would be a problem. He could joke about his ego, but there had to be a reason he was in Sector Four. It seemed like a place where he could forget the fact that he was destined for sainthood, that there were people who worshipped him as the living embodiment of their god's will on Earth.
Maybe even forget that he hated all of that, ego be damned.
Chapter Six
As heartbreaking as the makeshift Sector One hospital was, Mad would have given anything to stay there with Scarlet and Dylan and Jade.
Duty had other plans for him.
Mad clenched his hands around the steering wheel, acutely aware of Lex's presence beside him as he started up the gravel drive that led to the Rios estate. Trees lined either side of the path, trees planted before Mad's birth. They towered now, only letting light through in teasing patches, hiding the orchards and gardens that circled the estate.
They couldn't hide the residence itself. Mad tensed as they pulled into the open drive in front of the main building—three stories and two wings of stucco and stained glass. An embarrassment of luxury.
"Goddamn," Lex muttered under her breath. "We're in the wrong business, Declan. Looks like being a self-proclaimed prophet is what really pays."
Dallas laughed. "I'm wounded, Lex. If I wanted a pretty house, I could convince people to build me one. I just have better priorities."
"So does Gideon," Bren said. "This place was here long before he took over."
"My grandfather built it," Mad confirmed as he parked the car. "The rule of Sector One is pacifism. So murderers are banished or executed, of course, but killing in self-defense is still a mark on your soul, like a million other sins. The only way to remove it is by doing penance. Seven years of service to the Prophet or the temple." And the continuing supply of unpaid labor had built the many marvels of Sector One.
Lex peered up at the towering front entrance as she pushed open her door. "Well, Grandpa made out like a bandit."
He'd done more than that. He'd ingrained the idea of loyal work washing a soul clean into the culture of Sector One so firmly that Gideon had been unable to abolish the practice. His boldest attempt had resulted in a panicked month of supplicants arriving at the house, begging to be set to a task.
In the end, he'd used that to his advantage. He'd gathered his flock at their most holy of shrines and congratulated them for passing the test given to them by God. By refusing to set aside their penance, they'd proven themselves worthy of forgiveness. One year was the new standard, and Gideon had done his best to use their willing labor for things that benefited the sector as a whole.
Mad still couldn't tell if Gideon had planned it that way from the start. Underestimating his cousin's capacity for quiet cunning was a good way to get played.
By the time Mad slipped from the car, the double front doors had opened. Maricela came running out, a flash of white against the Saltillo tile. "Adrian!"
For a brief moment, the weight on his shoulders lifted. He opened his arms and caught her as she barreled into him, and even though she was too old for it now, he couldn't resist lifting her off her feet and spinning her around.
Gideon's youngest sister had been just a sweet-faced child when Mad left Sector One behind, and sometimes she still was in his mind. But she'd grown up in between his sporadic visits, and the woman he set back down on the driveway had all the dignity of an adult who knew her own power—and the responsibility that came with it.
Mindful of that dignity—and the fact that this was her first time playing hostess to other sector leaders—he bit back the urge to ruffle her hair. Instead he released her and turned them both around. "Dallas, Lex—this is Gideon's sister, Maricela."
Lex held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you."
Maricela stared at her, awestruck. "Lex Parrino. It's such a pleasure to finally meet you. I mean, the things you've done, especially for the girls in Two—" She cut off and clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry! Before. I meant...before."
Only an O'Kane could have noticed the tension in Lex's eyes as she smiled. "Gideon told me that his baby sister is adorable. Looks like he's an honest man."
Dallas held out his hand and waited for Maricela to extend hers. Instead of shaking it, he bent and brushed a kiss over the back of it, effectively diverting attention from the verbal misstep and the pain it had caused Lex. "He didn't do you justice."
The full force of Dallas's most charming smile slammed into Maricela. She blushed violently, and it took her a moment to speak. "Please, come in. Gideon's expecting you."
They followed her through the wide doors, into a foyer that managed to be even more opulent than the exterior of the house suggested. Delicately woven rugs covered the tile floor, and every bit of furniture and decor had been lovingly handcrafted. Nothing scavenged, nothing pre-Flare—and nothing that required electricity.
Gideon waited for them at the base of the curved staircase with a smile that seemed effortless and genuine. "Dallas, Lex. Bren. Welcome to my home. Jim and Ryder are already upstairs, if you'll follow me."
They started after him, but Mad hung back and turned to Maricela. "Is there a guest suite free?"
Her brow furrowed. "I've already set them up, Adrian."
This was a bad idea. His skin crawled at the idea of having Dylan and Jade and Scarlet under the roof his grandfather had built on the backs of the devoted. But it was the most secure place in the sector, and it was even worse to imagine them anywhere else. "Not for Dallas and Lex. I have some friends helping out with the refugees who need a place to stay."
"Oh. Yes, absolutely." She brightened, a little of her awkwardness from outside fading. "I get to meet your friends?"
Guilt sliced deep. It took so little to make her so fucking happy, and he hated himself for letting his shame over their grandfather's actions come between them. "Yeah, you do. Has Gideon told you about Jade?"
; This time, she wrinkled her nose at him in exasperation. "I don't need to be told. Everyone knows about Jade and her houses."
Everyone except him, apparently. "Houses?"
"The ones she built for the girls who left the Garden. Two so far, with a third planned." She bit her lip. "We'll have to speed up work on that one now."
Mad's focus had always been on helping the Riders smuggle the girls out of Two. He knew that Jade had given Gideon money to help them start new lives, just as Lex had done before her, but Gideon had never mentioned the extent of Jade's involvement in those new lives.
It was something he'd have to ask her about—later. "Well, she's one of them. And her friend Scarlet, and a doctor, Dylan. I have to get to this meeting, but can you send someone over to the hospital to bring them here when they're ready?"
She laid a hand on his cheek. "Anything for my favorite cousin. I'll send my personal guard, and everything will be ready for them when they arrive."
"Thanks, love." He swooped down to kiss her forehead before turning and taking the stairs two at a time.
Gideon's meeting room was on the north side of the house. It was graced with floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded a breathless view of the back garden and let in as much natural light as possible. Solar panels on the roof stored energy in battery packs that could be used in an emergency, but most of the Rios estate remained as their grandfather had originally built it—safely off the grid and reliant on candles and manpower over electricity and machinery.
It was sunny out today, leaving the office bright and welcoming. The group gathered around the long polished table was less so. Gideon sat at the head of the table, his expression still pleasantly relaxed, but stress showed in the creases around his eyes.
To his right sat Ryder, the newly proclaimed leader of Sector Five. He had black hair, brown eyes, dark brown skin, and chiseled features so perfectly formed he gave Jared stiff competition. His attractiveness was enhanced by the quiet power of his presence. He'd dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt, and the only flaw in his outfit was a slightly rumpled collar, indicating he'd already tugged off a tie.