Ridley sat utterly still, frozen by the two opposing forces pulling her in opposite directions: fear and fury. The instinct to bolt, and the desire to inflict as much pain on this man as he’d inflicted on the rest of the world. On her.
“So,” he said. “Ridley Kayne. Turns out you’re not human. Turns out you’re also not a Kayne.”
Like a puzzle piece fitted neatly into place, it hit Ridley with immediate and satisfying clarity that she was. Face to face with her death—because that was surely what was soon to happen—the only thing she wanted to do was throw her arms around Dad and tell him she loved him. Who the hell cared whether they were related by blood or not?
She blinked and exhaled. Fear and fury eased their grip on her. With an odd sort of relief, she said, “I am. In all the ways that matter.”
“Actually,” Alastair Davenport replied, “in the only way that matters, you are not. You’re descended from an extraordinarily powerful elemental. You’re one of the heirs we hear whispers about. One of the only elementals who may be a true threat to us. And you were right here under my nose, all those years you were Lilah’s friend. I could so easily have snuffed you out of existence and made it look like a tragic accident.”
A shiver crawled across Ridley’s skin. He’d known ever since the party that she was an elemental, but how did he know she was one of these heirs Nathan had told her about? “Who told you?”
He gave her a look that clearly communicated how little he thought of her intelligence. “No one had to tell me. The stone pendant you were wearing made it obvious.”
Were wearing. Ridley had forgotten about the stone, but she realized now that the comforting weight of it sitting against her chest was gone.
Alastair lifted his commpad and tapped the screen. “I have a few simple questions for you. First, which of your parents was the powerful one?”
“Like I’m really going to tell you.” If he didn’t know that her power came from both her parents, she wasn’t about to share that information.
“Hmm.” Alastair made a note on his commpad. “And do you have any biological siblings?”
Ridley’s heart raced a little faster. She hadn’t even considered the possibility. But Dad would surely have mentioned it if Sarah and Karl Ohlson had another children. “No,” she answered. Whether it was true or not, Alastair Davenport didn’t need to know.
“I see,” he murmured, making another note. “And how many other heirs do you know of?”
“None.” Her tone was firm, her gaze unblinking.
Alastair returned the commpad to the side table with a sigh. “Ridley. You are mildly intelligent, are you not? Lilah told me you’re a scholarship student at Wallace Academy. I thought you might have realized that being unhelpful will only make things more unpleasant for you in the long run.”
“The long run?” Ridley frowned. “Not that I want to die, but I kinda thought you’d get rid of me as quickly as possible. That seems to be what you guys do with elementals.”
“Oh, in general, yes. But you’re different. The fact that you’re an heir makes you more valuable to me alive. There are certain … developments that have taken place in recent years that mean it would be a tragic waste if I killed you now.”
“Developments?”
“I would elaborate, but the details will most likely distress you.”
“And you’re so concerned about my mental state.”
“Well, it isn’t my top priority, but I’ve been informed that the subjects’ mental and emotional wellbeing do play a certain role. Too many stress hormones in the blood produce subpar results.”
Ridley’s insides tightened at the word ‘subject,’ sending what was most likely a very subpar amount of stress hormone shooting through her body. She pictured the rooms she’d seen as she fled the Shadow Society’s base. The rooms with operating equipment and beds with restraints. The laboratory. “So,” she said, trying to keep the shiver from her voice. “Too many details will distress me, but one or two vague details that suggest you’re going to experiment on me are sure to put my mind at ease.”
Alastair lifted his commpad and stood. “Well, this discussion has been less than fruitful. I think we should leave it at that.” He turned toward the door. “Someone will be here soon to—”
“I know the truth about the Cataclysm,” Ridley interrupted. “I know what you did.”
Alastair paused. He looked back at her. His cold gaze was unreadable. “Somebody told you,” he said quietly, thoughtfully, as if he were pondering the words as he spoke them.
“You turned the GSMC into an apocalyptic event.”
“I did,” he replied calmly. “It was the perfect opportunity. We couldn’t waste it. Thousands of magicists gathering together around the world. Energy conjurations plus amplification conjurations. It wasn’t difficult to get Shadow Society members positioned in the right places at the right times. Having dozens of politicians in my pocket was a great help. Jude Madson wasn’t mayor yet, but he had enough influence to pull some strings for us. And our good friend the Secretary-General is actually a good friend of mine.”
“The SG is part of the Shadow Society?” Ridley asked, despair dragging her heart down to the tips of her toes. She knew the Shadow Society’s influence went high up, but if the man who’d been elected to govern the entire world was part of it, there really was no hope for a future in which elementals could be free.
“No,” Alastair answered. “He knows nothing of the Shadow Society. But he’s easily manipulated, like many others. In fact, if I was to explain everything to him, he’d probably agree with me that it all worked out beautifully. We placed people into key positions on the day of the GSMC, and then all we had to do was cancel out the energy conjurations, allow the amplification ones to continue, and do our own provocation ones. We pressured magic into reacting, the amplification conjurations multiplied the effect, and the whole world went boom. Devastating, but perfect. Overpopulation? Solved. Magic? Confined to the wastelands. And that’s where it will stay for the rest of time.”
“Boom,” Ridley repeated quietly, feeling sick to her core. “I thought you might feel some remorse over causing such catastrophic destruction, but I guess not.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “Of course not. Remorse would imply I regret what we did. Don’t you understand, Ridley? We saved the planet.”
“You killed billions of people!” Ridley shouted.
Alastair remained irritatingly unruffled. “To save everyone else. Ridley, do you think I liked doing what I did? Do you think I wanted to kill all those people? Destroy so much of the world? Of course I didn’t. No one wants to live with that much death on their conscience. But someone had to step up and make the hard decision. No one else was doing it, so it had to be me. I will endure that burden for the rest of my days because nobody else could bear it.”
“Wait. Are you saying … do you actually expect me to feel sorry for you?”
“No.” He held his commpad near the door and it beeped before opening. “You’re an elemental. I don’t expect you to feel anything the same way humans do.”
“Is that how you justify all the heinous acts you commit against my kind? Because you think we don’t feel anything?”
“Well, the person who lived with you in that little nature reserve campsite clearly felt nothing when betraying the rest of you.”
Ridley froze, her next breath caught somewhere between her mouth and her lungs. “Who?” she whispered.
Alastair looked over his shoulder. “Apparently someone got tired of living in hiding. Living with the constant fear of being found. Someone wanted to trade up, to live the good life, to have wealth and security. Someone offered us the location of multiple elemental communities in exchange.”
“Who?” Ridley repeated, her stomach churning.
“Honestly, I can’t remember the name. Jude Madson was the one who dealt with and then got rid of this person after we acquired the information we needed.” He paused agai
n, watching Ridley’s reaction, then added, “We don’t make deals with people like you.” He glanced at his commpad, then tapped the screen. “Time for my next meeting.” And with that, he walked out and pulled the door shut.
14
Ridley wanted to pace. All the nervous energy building inside her needed to go somewhere, but her feet were still bound, and hopping seemed a little too ridiculous. The heavy fog of grief she’d been wading through over the past few days had mostly cleared, leaving a dull, continuous ache and several plain truths in its wake: She had to get back to Dad. She had to get back to the elementals. They had to rid the world of the Shadow Society and its influence.
Hatred burned through her veins. Hatred for Alastair Davenport. For everyone else who had brought the world to its knees and was firmly keeping it there. They had to be stopped, and Ridley was more than willing to do her part to make sure that happened.
Beep.
Ridley looked up, her hart jolting at the unexpected sound. The diamond mesh layer that divided the room in half flashed into existence and then disappeared. Was it actually gone this time?
Beep.
The door opened and a man walked in. He stopped in the doorway. “Oh, you’re awake. That’s unfortunate.” At first glance, he was a copy of Alastair Davenport. Perfect hair, perfect suit, an unpleasant smile revealing perfect teeth. But he was younger and the suit was ill-fitting, and there was something lacking in his posture. He was a cheap imitation. A knockoff.
“Your precious director didn’t tell you?” Ridley asked.
Mr. Knockoff walked to the armchair and reached toward the wall behind it. “Mr. Davenport is a busy man.”
“I guess I’m special then, if he took the time to come and have a chat with me.”
“Very special indeed,” he said drily as he pressed his fingers to the wall. A square of paneling swung open, revealing a small compartment in the wall. “It’s the only thing keeping you alive right now.”
“Lucky me.”
Mr. Knockoff opened a small container, removed something, and snapped the container shut. When he turned to face Ridley, she saw he held a syringe.
“Whoa, hey, what’s that?” She scooted backward across the bed.
Mr. Knockoff raised an eyebrow as he crossed the room. “Needle phobia?”
“No, asshat, I don’t want you sticking foreign substances into me.”
“Seriously? You realize you were injected with foreign substances before arriving here, right?”
A shiver coursed through Ridley’s body. “What substances?”
“Nothing too exciting. Yet. Just arxium and a sedative. Oh, and that was after we stuck a needle in you to get a blood sample.”
“My blood?”
“Doc doesn’t like it to be contaminated with arxium. We had to knock you out the old-fashioned way, get the blood sample immediately—just in case you escape before we get you to the lab—and then inject the arxium and sedative. Clearly I didn’t give you enough.” He leaned over her. She shoved her elbow upward, but he grabbed her arm and pressed his weight down on her as he aimed the needle at her neck. “So I’ll make sure to give you enough this time, and then we’ll get you transferred out of—”
Ridley drew her knees up and kicked as hard as she could. Mr. Knockoff fell backward off the bed, grunting out a string of curses as he hit the floor. Ridley scrambled up in time to see the syringe rolling away from him. She wriggled to the edge of the bed. Chances were slim she could get to the syringe before he could, but she had to at least—
“Need some help in here?”
Ridley froze at the sound of the familiar voice. Her traitorous heart leaped hopefully, even as the pain of betrayal rushed hotly through her veins once more.
“Yeah, can you get that damn syringe?” Mr. Knockoff said to Archer as he climbed to his feet. “I’ll hold her down.”
“Sure.” Archer walked in and reached for the fallen syringe. “You shouldn’t have come in here on your own.” His gaze—as dark and cold as his father’s—settled on Ridley as he straightened. “She’s feisty.”
Mr. Knockoff chuckled as he approached Ridley again. “You would know, wouldn’t you.”
Archer’s impassive expression morphed into a wicked grin. “I would.” Then he jabbed the needle into the man’s neck.
“Hey! You … what …” Mr. Knockoff launched away from Ridley and threw himself at Archer. There was a brief scuffle, and then Mr. Knockoff slid to the floor. He didn’t move.
Ridley breathed out slowly, her heart still hammering against her chest. “For a moment there,” she said to Archer, “I wasn’t sure who you were going to stab with that thing.”
Archer’s features tightened. “I guess I deserve that.” He stepped over Mr. Knockoff, pulling magic from the air with one hand. “May I?” He pointed to her wrists. She nodded, watching from the corner of her eye as he did a quick conjuration to transform the glowing wisps of magic into a spark that would slice through the cable tie. Quietly, he said, “I will always be on your side, Ridley. Whether you trust me or not.”
Instead of acknowledging his words, she asked, “Why isn’t the arxium in the air interfering with your conjuration?”
“There isn’t any in the air.” He crouched down and did the same conjuration for the cable tie around her ankles. “Well, not just floating around everywhere. It somehow travels along the tiny beams of light positioned to create that dividing layer across the room. I think the arxium particles just hang around in gaps in the walls when that thing is switched off. Oh, and there’s arxium in your body from when they injected you earlier,” he added as he stood. “I think this form of arxium takes longer to work through your system than breathing it in. Anyway, come on.” He reached for her hand as she stood, a gesture that must have been automatic because a moment later he clenched the hand into a fist and lowered it. “Um, sorry. Let’s go.”
They crossed the room, and Archer stuck his head through the doorway before saying, “All clear.”
They hurried into a hallway lined with the same geometric gray panels as the room they’d just left. Ridley said, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
“Rid, can we talk once we’re out of here?”
“Sure. But talking isn’t going to change anything.”
They stopped in front of a closed door at the end of the hallway, and Archer held his commscreen against a plain black pad on the wall. A click sounded from within the door. Archer grasped the handle and pulled the door open.
“Are we below ground?” Ridley asked as they left the hallway behind and entered … a living room? It was a larger space with two comfortable couches, a television screen, and some random, abstract art on canvases. There also appeared to be an automatic coffee machine built into one of the walls.
“No. We’re pretty much as far from the ground as you can get.”
They crossed the room to the door on the other side and hurried into another passageway. This one, however, was made entirely of glass on one side. Ridley almost stumbled to a halt when she looked out and saw the tops of skyscrapers. “Wait, are we—is this Aura Tower? Are we in your home?”
“Close enough. We’re five floors down from the penthouse. My father likes the convenience of being able to interrogate people without having to go too far. Anyone who catches his interest is brought here instead of being immediately disposed of or carted off to some other facility like the one in the wastelands that you destroyed.”
“I guess I should be honored to have been chosen,” Ridley said with as much sarcasm as she could muster. They entered a smaller room, this one with nothing but an orchid sitting on a table against a wall on the left, and a door straight ahead.
“To be honest,” Archer said as they aimed for the door, “I’m just relieved. We’re supposed to kill elementals if we happen to come across them. Unless—”
“Stop right there.”
The voice came from behind them. Familiar and feminine, it sent another sickeni
ng lurch through Ridley’s stomach.
“Lilah,” Archer said as he and Ridley turned slowly. Then: “Whoa!”
Because Lilah Davenport had a shotgun pointed at them. She gripped the weapon in both hands, pressing the butt of it into her shoulder as she eyed Ridley and Archer along the length of it. Ridley had to admit she looked kind of badass.
“Lilah, where did you get that?” Archer asked as he raised both hands. Ridley did the same.
“Does it matter when it’s pointing at you?” Lilah replied.
“Do you even know how to use it?”
Lilah’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Don’t patronize me, Archer. Is it so hard to believe there might be things you don’t know about me? Clearly there’s plenty I don’t know about you. Like the fact that your amulets are gone and you can pull magic. Like the fact that you’re on their side—” she jabbed the gun toward Ridley “—and not ours.”
“Lilah, I have always been on your—”
“I was in the surveillance room when you went in to get her,” Lilah snapped. “I heard everything you said. I saw everything you did.”
“Why don’t you stop pointing the weapon at us and we can talk about this,” Archer suggested.
“How could you betray us?” Lilah demanded, making no move to lower the gun. “How could you turn on your own family?”
“You don’t know what Dad’s done. You don’t know about—”
“I do know. I know all of Dad’s secrets. I know secrets even you don’t know, Archer.”
“I …” Ridley didn’t have to look at Archer to know he was confused. It was evident in his voice.
A short, bitter laugh escaped Lilah. “That look on your face? That hurt you’re feeling? The sting of betrayal because you think Dad confided in me and not you? That’s how I’ve felt for years. Dad left me out of everything. He only ever chose you to be part of his grand plans.”
Elemental Heir (Ridley Kayne Chronicles Book 3) Page 11