by Jory Strong
I was meant for this. I was always meant to be among the elite.
The car stopped in front of the house belonging to one of the city powerful. A male servant hurried to open the car door, but it was Merati himself who helped her out of the car, glancing approvingly at Hayden for having been smart enough to approach her, for having seen her value and pursued her as a wife.
She's the right woman for you, Merati's glance said. She's courageous, smart, resourceful. Look at what she accomplished.
The air was perfumed by thousands of roses. She walked toward the mansion's front door, between men who held secrets, who were in fact, more powerful than the elite inside the castle-like home.
Another uniformed servant let them into the house, bowing his head, acknowledging his superiors as they stepped into a foyer containing priceless artwork illuminated by electric light.
Merati handed yet another servant a card, so their arrival could be announced. And she knew those gathered were waiting in anticipation.
This was her first society event and it had been created for her. Everyone who was important was here because she was with Merati.
She worked at an expression that would convey she belonged among the gathered elite. But inside she was giddy. Not only was she demonstrably important because the head of the Peace Force was introducing her to society, but as soon as she entered with Hayden, she'd be envied by the women.
The stink of an unwashed body intruded on her fantasy. She blinked away the scenes of her future.
The man who'd been eating a meat pie in the marketplace had sidled up to her on the right. Bread crumbs and animal fat clung to his black beard. Up close he looked like one of the nearly destitute who polluted the boroughs.
"Let me have the trunk."
"No."
"Folks here would expect someone like you to pay to have it pulled."
"No." She wouldn't give up a moment of glory.
"Suit yourself."
"Where's Hayden?"
"Turn right up ahead, pretend you aren't sure which way it is to the city gate."
It wasn't that way. Right was toward Jax's territory, not the gate into Borough Z. It would take far longer to get safely into the city.
The man dropped back. She kept her pace steady, continued to feel eyes on her.
Reaching the alley, she turned into it and there was Hayden, accompanied by the other two men who'd been in the marketplace.
Hayden's smile lit her up on the inside. His gaze flicked to the trunk. "You were successful?"
"Yes."
Closing the distance between them, he breached her personal space and her stomach flipped. "Beautiful," he said, "and so very brave. How long until someone notices the boy is missing?"
"I don't know. My sister was busy with the prisoner. He's showing signs of improvement."
"Good. Hearing that will make Merati happy. We'd better hurry." He touched his pocket. "There's a doorway at the railroad tracks. It's closer than either gate and I have the key."
Not that she needed further evidence of his importance, but possession of the key… Even the elite were said to have to beg for it if they had reason to send their agents into the warrens.
Hayden's hand covered hers on the trunk handle, sending a shiver of pleasure up her arm. They were perfect for each other.
"I'll take the boy," he said, and she relinquished the trunk.
* * * * *
Chapter 23
The patient moaned, drawing Ella's attention away from the book she'd been finding it a struggle to read. Was she being harsh in sending Victoria back to the city?
She couldn't remember the last time her sister had apologized for her actions or hurtful words. But…was the apology genuine?
Was it fear of a dangerous suitor that had prompted that apology? Or was it being on this side of the wall, and away from the focus on climbing socially that had led to Victoria's change of heart?
She wanted to believe that change was genuine.
The patient moaned louder, his arms and legs moving beneath the sheet.
Ella set the book on the bed and stood, leaning over him. "Easy," she murmured. "Easy."
His movements grew jerkier, his breathing more rapid. Sweat glistened on his forehead though so far there were no signs of infection.
He mumbled, a sense of urgency in his voice.
She leaned closer, strained to hear what he was saying. It sounded like a single word.
"Merati."
Icy fear swept over her, pebbling her skin.
She could be wrong. She had to be wrong.
"Merati." A mumbled jumble of words. "Merati."
The chill inside her deepened.
Josiah had said this man answered to someone who wouldn't care if he died, and that would be true of one of Merati's spies.
"What's your name?"
Her patient quieted.
Relief swept in, but it was short-lived.
He mumbled. Dampened the sheet with sweat. Thrashed, sending her book to the floor.
She left it where it fell. Wished she knew whether he was remembering what was done to him or was on the verge of seizing.
Given the extent of his head injury, that was a possibility. He wasn't out of danger. It was still very possible that he would die.
"Easy," she said. "Easy."
He thrashed more wildly, making her afraid he'd do himself harm.
Griffin had given her a syringe containing a drug not available in the warrens. If you have to use this, be very careful, Ella. This will ease his pain and calm him, but it'll also lower his inhibitions.
Meaning that if he was questioned, she'd be responsible for what happened to anyone he exposed, or for what would happen to him as a result of his admissions.
She'd nodded, taken the syringe, both of them believing: First do no harm.
The thrashing became more violent.
The bag containing the IV fluids was jerked from the stand. She caught it before it hit the floor.
It was only a matter of time before the drain and catheters were dislodged.
She had no choice but to use the drug.
Ella retrieved the syringe from the dresser. Grabbed her patient's arm and plunged the needle into a port on the fluid line.
He calmed.
She hesitated, torn by duty and conscience.
First do no harm.
But if he died, his family deserved to know of their loss. And it was important, at least to her, that they know Josiah wasn't responsible, had done more than what many warlords would do for someone sent into the warrens to spy and destabilize.
Her pulse thrummed in her throat. She asked, "Who are you? What's your name?"
His eyelids fluttered but didn't open.
"Who are you? What's your name?"
"Egan. Merati."
Her mouth went dry. He couldn't mean… He couldn't be…
"What's your brother's name?"
"Tito."
Tito Merati.
Her pulse thrummed harder. Josiah was wrong about Merati accepting this loss.
With hands that shook, she rehung the fluid bag, checked Egan's drain and the catheter leading to the urine collection bowl.
She left the patient's room, the quiet of the house heightening the wild pounding of her heart.
"Jacob! Enzo!"
There was no response, nothing but continued, deepened silence.
Her throat locked, fear clawed through her chest along with suspicion. Victoria—
No. There had to be a different explanation.
Ella hurried to the guest bedroom. Stopped in the doorway.
Victoria's things were on the bed. That meant she and Jacob were outside with Enzo.
Feeling a quick burst of warmth, at having evidence that her sister did want to make amends, Ella rushed down the hallway, down the stairs and out through the front door.
"Jacob! Enzo! Victoria!"
When there was no answer, she hurried around the side of
the house and into the backyard. A feral cat had killed a bird, leaving gray feathers scattered where the water fight had led to lovemaking.
"Victoria! Jacob! Enzo!"
The chill returned. She tried to dismiss it by telling herself that they were playing hide-and-seek in the maze.
That had to be the reason they weren't responding. The maze would be a fun challenge for Enzo. And it was safe for them to be there. They were contained. The guards posted at the other ends might allow her sister to leave, but they'd never allow Jacob to leave unaccompanied by someone loyal to the warlord.
Going from door to door, she opened the entrances into the maze and yelled, "Victoria! Jacob! Enzo!"
She strained to hear a response. There was none.
Maybe they were hiding in the house. Hurt blossomed in her chest at the possibility that Jacob heard but wasn't answering.
It came with the memory of playing hide-and-seek with Victoria when they were younger, of growing frantic after shouting, I give up, come out now, and having her sister continue to hide.
It'd been one of the few times their parents had gone off together, trusting her to watch Victoria. And as she'd grown more and more frantic, she'd imagined Victoria leaving the yard, wandering, getting lost, and worse.
Ella rushed into the house. "Jacob! You need to come out, right now! Before you make your mama cry."
There was no response.
He was gone. She knew it, but desperation drove her to the kitchen.
The pantry was large enough to be a good hiding place. She had to be sure. If Victoria had done something to Jacob, somehow taken him—
He wasn't there.
Ella charged up the stairs. Checked the parlor at the front of the house. Jacob's room. The closet in the prisoner's room, her dread deepening.
This is my fault. I should've turned Victoria away when she showed up. If something happens to Jacob…
Her throat burned at imagining him helpless, afraid. Her eyes stung at imagining what might happen to him if Egan died.
She could no longer shake the terrible feeling that Egan was the reason Victoria had shown up at the house, not some suitor.
She left Egan's room, checked the linen closet and sobbed at finding Enzo there, motionless, his eyes open.
Dropping to her knees, she pressed her hand against his side. He was breathing. He was alive, his heartbeat strong.
Ella leaned down and inhaled as Enzo exhaled. Recognized the drug by its sweet smell on his breath.
Relief made her momentarily dizzy. He would recover.
She scrambled to her feet and rushed to Victoria's room on a suspicion.
The trunk was gone.
Hope gripped her. She could get Jacob back.
Victoria must have drugged him and put him in the trunk. That would slow her down. She could catch up to them.
But if she failed…
She couldn't risk going after Victoria on her own, though backed into a corner, Victoria would tell Josiah that she was their father's only daughter. She'd tell him that Ella had known before coming into the warrens and becoming his bride.
And he'll know I betrayed his trust from the very start.
She should have told him. But held in his arms, pressed against his body, she'd been afraid of losing the closeness, she'd been a coward.
Tears streamed down her face at imagining the warmth in his eyes turning to cold hatred. But that couldn't matter. Couldn't stop her from going to him. Jacob's safety was more important than anything else.
Returning to the linen closet, she knelt and lifted Enzo into her arms. Hoped that by the time she got to the stronghold, he'd be alert.
* * *
Josiah leaned back in his chair and felt the familiar swell of pride at having the loyalty of men such as Ciro, Saul, and DeAngelo. None of them looked any worse for the raid the night before in Krish's territory.
He tapped his fingers against the heavy chair arm, felt the phantom pull of the trigger that had ended the life of the man who'd killed Jacob's mother on Krish's orders, because Geneva and her inked husband were becoming a threat.
It was done, the past behind him. Word was already spreading that there was a new warlord. Isaac.
Krish's defeat would worry Merati, especially now that Jax and Diego had made their peace. From Diego's warren through Isaac's, the warlords were allied.
His thoughts shifted to his wife and his cock urged him to return home. As soon as his spies had reported in—
Pounding on the door leading to the parking garage sent Josiah catapulting from the chair. Something had happened.
He reached the door first, banged in the code, heart seizing at seeing Ella with the dog at her side.
Enzo stumbled forward and fell over like a drunk.
Jacob!
Even before he could say his son's name, Ella said, "Victoria took Jacob. I found Enzo drugged in a closet."
"Rosa?"
"She went to the marketplace and Blaine went with her. I was with the patient—"
"Sound the bells, men on foot and on motorcycles."
"I'm on it," DeAngelo said.
"Afterward go to Jax. Tell him I'll return the ransom I collected for his woman if we ride in his warren."
"Will do."
DeAngelo took off.
Ella grabbed the front of Josiah's shirt, her eyes holding desperation. "I need to search for Jacob too. Enzo might be able to lead me to him."
Saul's hand fisted around the bandolier above his heart. "Or she could be making a run for the gate."
She inhaled sharply, but her eyes remained steady on Josiah's, were reddened from the tears she'd already shed. "Let me help search for him. I'm his mother."
Enzo struggled to his feet. Ciro knelt next him. "It's possible the dog could help. He showed an aptitude for tracking."
Saul's expression tightened. "Lock her up, Josiah. Let Ciro handle the dog."
Looking into her tear-ravaged face, Josiah couldn't find it within himself to give that order. She was his wife, the mother of his son. "Ella goes with me."
"It could be a trap," Saul said. "I'll stay with you."
"If it's a trap, amigo, better that you be in a position to take over."
Ciro stood. "I'll stick with Josiah. Along with Hector and Nessa."
Josiah nodded. "Come to the house through the maze. Find out which door Victoria left through. We might as well know from the start if Enzo is going to be useful. The man who allowed her to leave with Jacob—"
"I think she drugged Jacob and put him in her trunk."
Josiah wondered if she'd plead for her sister's life the same way she was attempting to lessen one of his soldier's punishment. He scooped Enzo up and put his hand between Ella's shoulder blades, indicating she should enter the stairwell to the underground passageway.
"We'll meet you at the house," he told Ciro. To Saul he said, "My choice, amigo. Take charge of the men."
* * *
Motorcycles rumbled to life in the distance, reviving Victoria's fear. The underling who'd run into her carrying a basket of corn in the marketplace whipped around to face them, his eyes wild with terror.
"We won't make it to the rail line in time. Josiah will send one of his men to Jax." His eyes flicked to the two bandannas tied around Hayden's upper arm, one white and the other green. "The rags won't make a difference. Everyone will be looking for her and the boy."
Victoria's heart thundered harder. Without her, they wouldn't be so obvious.
She curled her hand around Hayden's forearm, felt him tense and wondered if the appreciative way he'd looked at her, if his interest in her had all been a lie.
No. It couldn't have been.
But that didn't mean he wasn't considering his options, thinking about having her killed so he could save himself and escape the warrens with the warlord's son.
In her mind's eye she saw the photograph of the warren. The tunnel was closer than any door into the city.
She knew the a
nswer but she asked anyway, "How far to the railway doorway?"
"Too far." Hayden's voice was grim.
The man with the food-encrusted beard had edged closer. His beefy hand rested on the wide knife at his waist and it was easy to believe that if Hayden nodded, his underling would step forward and slit her throat.
A small change of course, and they could get to the tunnel. She could claim she wasn't supposed to know about it, had only learned of it by overhearing a discussion between her sister and the warlord.
Revealing the tunnel could cost her parents their lives. But they'd sacrifice their lives for her. She knew that was true.
Her throat still clogged.
They might not have to die.
She could plead that her parents be spared. Hayden had feelings for her. And if they succeeded in exchanging Jacob for Ella's patient, Merati would owe her a favor.
She squeezed Hayden's arm. "I have an idea."
Rising on tiptoes, she whispered into his ear. "I know where there's a tunnel that will take us into the city."
His face turned toward hers, his eyes gleamed with admiration. "You're sure?"
"Positive. I overheard my sister and Josiah talking."
"I was right to choose you."
She tingled despite the roar of motorcycles in the warren.
"Go into hiding," he told his underlings, and they scurried away like rats.
* * *
Ciro came through the maze doorway moments after Hector and Nessa had entered the yard. He called out, "She left through the door Vincenzo is guarding. She made a good show of being a bitch when she came out, then headed toward the city gate pulling her trunk."
Already moving toward the maze door, Josiah asked, "How long ago?"
"No more than forty minutes."
For a heartbeat it seemed like an insurmountable lead.
He wouldn't allow that to be true.
Ella had the dress Victoria had worn the day before, along with one of Jacob's bandannas. She offered them to Ciro.
He said, "We'll start the dog on Victoria's scent as soon as we leave the maze."
They hurried through it. At the other end, Vincenzo dropped onto a knee. "I'm sorry, Warlord. I failed you."