The Benefactor

by Dylan Steel

He stared at her from behind a stoic mask, but his lips twitched almost imperceptibly, giving away the truth. He hid his true intentions behind an obscure claim of protection, but she knew better. She’d seen the look on Weston’s face when Edward Grayson had shown too much interest in her. She was his. If he couldn’t have her, no one could.

  “An-y-ways…” Sage sighed, picking up her fork again. “No one else can strip my Chances without dealing with you. And I get the impression—Chances aside—that you’re not exactly the type of person anyone would want to cross.”

  “No. I’m not,” Weston agreed. He looked at her pensively, not saying anything more. She dropped her gaze back to her plate, more than content to be done with her moment of honesty. After spending her life learning to lie, it unsettled her that he was so easily able to pry the truth from her—even when she knew the price of sharing too much could be her life.

  Maybe she finally believed that she had nothing left to lose. She’d known it for awhile, but she’d been unable to let go of that small ray of hope—slim as it was—that there was a chance she could get out of this alive. But she knew the truth: She was stuck in a waiting game, biding her time until she was no longer a novelty.

  Cutting off another piece of the strange blue food on her plate, Sage took a bite. She chewed her meal in silence, stealing the occasional peek at her benefactor.

  Some birthday dinner. La N’bo might have been the nicest place he could’ve taken her, but she didn’t want to be there. Their conversation had been shallow all night. Forced. She didn’t understand why he’d insisted on making the evening special when it was clear neither one of them was comfortable. Not that Weston gave any sign of being ill-at-ease. Of course not. He was far too composed to show it outwardly, but after almost an hour of stagnant conversation, she didn’t see how he could possibly be enjoying himself either.

  Her gaze fluttered nervously around the room, landing on another couple nearby. Another benefactor and his pair. She recognized him from Grayson’s party, but she couldn’t remember his name. Apparently, she needed to study Weston’s files some more.

  “Sage.” Weston’s voice drew her attention back to their table. “What would you propose I do?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Do?”

  “It’s obvious you don’t trust me.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Saving your life wasn’t enough. Neither was protecting you from Edward in his own home.” He paused, blue eyes flashing in her direction. “I’d like you to tell me what would be enough.”

  “You could remove my tether,” she suggested hopefully, fingering her bracelet.

  “That’s not an option.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “As I’ve told you before, it’s for your own protection. I won’t endanger you to make either one of us feel better.”

  Her shoulders slumped forward.

  “You have questions for me.” He sounded bored, almost detached. It was simply a statement of fact. “I assume that’s why you were going through my room.”

  She froze, eyes wide as she held her breath.

  He didn’t look at her as he cut the vegetables on his plate. “Perhaps there are some I can answer. As a birthday gift, of sorts. A way to build a bridge of trust between us.”

  Was he really promising her answers? What if he didn’t like her questions?

  Well, if he was offering, she wasn’t going to turn him down.

  “What’s in the locked room?” she asked, lifting her chin. Might as well dive right in.

  “Tech. Lots of it.” He met her eyes as he nonchalantly stabbed a carrot and brought it to his lips. “Given your skills, I thought it was unwise to let you have free access to it while I was away. Right or wrong, I was under the impression that you might have tried to release your tether. Had you attempted it, the consequences would have been catastrophic.”

  “You think I would’ve messed it up?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  I wouldn’t have messed it up, Sage thought, pursing her lips as she fought back a surge of annoyance. She couldn’t exactly tell him that he’d made the wrong decision. Finding a way to get into that room was practically all she’d been able to think about while he was gone.

  “I’m good at tech.” Her grip tightened around the handle of her fork. Why was she arguing with him? It was as good as admitting her intentions. And why was he so calm about it?

  “It’s not a matter of your skills, Sage. As I’m sure you remember from our visit to the Dignitary, I don’t have the right equipment to initiate or sever a tether. Only he does.”

  “Fine.” She shrugged, doing her best to act as if she didn’t care. “But I never said I would’ve done that.”

  “Oh, no, naturally.” Weston sat uncharacteristically still as he took another sip. “You’re perfectly happy being tethered.”

  She dropped her gaze. Something told her that this whole thing was an act. He was only letting her ask questions so that he could put her back in her place. Another lesson.

  “Why all the lessons?” she blurted out, in a hurry to change the subject. “The files? Benefactors, politics…”

  “I thought we’d already been over that to your satisfaction.”

  “You said—” She stopped at the warning he shot in her direction. Apparently, it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss in public. She switched her approach. “I already studied Eprah’s government when I was at the Institution—on the Cabinet track.”

  “And have those studies been the same as what I’ve asked of you?”

  “Some…” Her conviction faltered at the look of displeasure he shot her. “But not exactly.”

  “Well, then, I believe you have your answer.”

  Hardly. She frowned.

  “Can I ask another question?”

  “You may. I won’t promise I’ll answer—or if I do that you’ll like it.”

  Fair enough. She nodded. “What was on the disc?”

  “The disc?” He returned her look blankly, looking genuinely confused by her question as he rubbed his bracelet absentmindedly.

  She tilted her head, pursing her lips slightly. This question was probably one she should’ve kept to herself, but she’d been desperate to get his attention off of her recent indiscretions, and it was the first thing that had come to mind. “The one in the Dignitary’s office.”

  “Ah, that.” Mischief sparked behind his eyes. “Insurance.”

  “That’s… vague.”

  “It is, isn’t it.” Weston scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Allow me to present a question to you.”

  Sage stiffened at his cool tone. She’d pushed him too far.

  “What would you have done if you’d been successful in removing your tether?”

  “I never said that’s what I was going to do,” she said hurriedly. Her heart drummed faster in her ears. Changing the subject hadn’t dissuaded him from pursuing the topic.

  “Of course not.” He rested his hand on the table, tapping his finger restlessly as he looked at her. “But for the sake of argument, let’s say you weren’t tethered. What would you do?”

  “I’d—”

  “Don’t lie.” The sharp warning came faster than she could come up with an answer that wouldn’t make him angry. “And don’t say you’d go back to your old job. You’ve seen what they think of you there. You’re not foolish enough to believe that’s still an option for you.”

  She swallowed. “Maybe I wouldn’t need to go back to the city at all.”

  “But you wouldn’t stay with me,” he said flatly, observing her closely.

  Sage lowered her gaze, afraid to either agree with him or contradict him.

  “Honesty. Finally.”

  His words cut deep into her soul. He knew what she was planning to do. Maybe he’d always known. He’d warned her that he knew more than she could imagine, and he’d been right—she never would have guessed that he’d have known she wanted to become a Rogue.

  “Will you ever remove my tether?” she asked
quietly.

  “If I knew without a doubt that I could trust you,” Weston took a sip of his drink, “then yes.”

  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back. “What do I have to do?”

  “Now, that is the very question we’ve been trying to get at tonight, isn’t it?” A storm raged behind his deep blue eyes as he looked back at her. “What is it going to take for you and me to trust each other? Because if you trusted me, you wouldn’t want to leave.”

  She pushed her plate back. Her appetite was entirely gone now. “If you trusted me, you wouldn’t force me to stay with you.”

  “If I trusted you, it would be because I knew you were capable of making the right decision,” he replied evenly. “Something which you’ve proven untrue time and time again.”

  Knots wound themselves across her shoulders as she glared at him. “I haven’t—”

  “I’m not just talking about running away or going through my things,” he interrupted, thinly veiled anger dripping from his words. “I left you alone for a few minutes, and in that time, you managed to stumble upon Edward.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten there when I did? What would have happened if I wasn’t who I am—even if I was any other benefactor?”

  “You can’t seriously be blaming me for that,” she snapped. “I’ve seen his shrine. I know what he does to his pairs.”

  “You wouldn’t have been afforded the same level of courtesy that he shows his pairs,” Weston said quietly. He paused, letting the weight of his statement sink in.

  “Well, I think he would’ve been happy to make me his pair.” She lifted her chin and took another drink, watching for his reaction. She’d only said it because she was irritated at him and thought it would bother him. And it did. Anger and jealousy burned in his eyes.

  “You aren’t his pair. You’re mine.”

  “I’ll never be yours,” she said spitefully.

  “Lower your voice,” he growled.

  Sage crossed her arms and leaned back in a huff, ignoring the curious looks from their fellow patrons nearby. A pointed glance from Mr. Bennick sent all of their unwanted attention scurrying back to their own tables.

  “You are my pair. And you continue to exercise your poor judgment,” he said calmly, turning his gaze back on Sage, “getting into a shouting match with your benefactor in public.”

  Her stomach churned uneasily. She’d let herself get carried away again, only this time she’d done it in front of other people.

  “Are you aware what each person in this room is thinking right now?” he asked.

  Sage’s breaths started coming shallower. She slid her gaze across the room, unsure if he really wanted an answer. The girl she’d seen with the other benefactor earlier looked at her with wide eyes for a moment, then ducked her head, avoiding her stare.

  “I am. They’re all wondering what I’m planning to do to you,” he continued. “As punishment for your insubordination.”

  “What?” The question scratched its way out as barely a whisper. Lights pulsed at the edges of her vision as she fought off a surge of dizziness.

  “I think our dinner’s over.” He stood up and set his napkin on the table.

  “It doesn’t have to be.” She bit a worried lip as she wiggled in her seat, hoping to postpone leaving. Maybe he’d forget about her outburst if they stayed long enough.

  “Now, Sage.” The warning in his tone was clear. Weston’s face was emotionless as he motioned for her to join him. Swallowing hard, she scrambled to her feet. No need to give him one more thing to be upset with her about.

  He slipped a hand around her waist. She shivered as he led her to the door and whispered in her ear, “Our evening isn’t over yet.”

  16. FOUR TOWERS

  Sage shot Weston a wary look out of the corner of her eye. After leaving La N’bo, he’d brought her up to the roof of the hospitality suite. As it turned out, her first impression of it months ago had been correct—it was easily one of the tallest buildings in the city. But what she hadn’t noticed before was that the hospitality suite was divided into four interconnected buildings, each with its own tall tower. They appeared to be four separate buildings but were actually joined together by several aerial walkways and a series of breezeways on the main level.

  Part of her was convinced he’d brought her up to the roof just so that he could drop her over the side. Beautification could collect her body before anyone knew he’d done it.

  In reality, it was probably nothing more than an overactive sense of paranoia—after all, he could just as easily strip all her Chances in one fell swoop if he desired to—but she kept a good distance between herself and the edge all the same.

  “This doesn’t seem like a punishment.”

  “That’s because it’s not.” He closed his eyes and lifted his face higher in the cool night air, breathing in slowly. “I have no intention of punishing you for your earlier outburst, Sage.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said that everyone was wondering how I would punish you. Not that I would.” His eyes flicked to hers. “Although I would prefer you not challenge me so openly again.”

  She should’ve been relieved, but her jaw tensed. “Is everything a riddle with you?” she asked, frustration leaking into her tone.

  An amused smile flitted across his lips as he looked at her. Then, to her utter astonishment, he laughed. It was deep and rich, a warm sound that threatened to melt the ice encasing her heart. She sucked in a breath, fighting against his disarming charm. She couldn’t allow herself to believe for even one moment that this man was anything other than dangerous.

  “Glad you think I’m so funny,” she muttered.

  His laughter died down, and silence enveloped the space between them. Crossing her arms, Sage turned away, allowing her gaze to roam over the tops of the buildings all around them.

  “It’s easy for me to forget—” he shook his head, eyeing her as he continued, “—not everyone has spent their lifetime guarding each word that came out of their mouth as carefully as I have.”

  She snorted before she could stop herself. He raised an eyebrow at her in an unspoken question.

  “It’s not like there weren’t consequences for saying the wrong thing at the Institution,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  He nodded thoughtfully. “In that case, I’m surprised you don’t have better control over your tongue.”

  “Oh,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly, “it’s perfectly under control.”

  “I see.” His muscles flexed subtly under his shirt as he looked out across the roof, taking in the view of the city. “Perhaps I should reevaluate my earlier statement? Should I consider consequences for how you acted at the restaurant? Retraining, I believe, is what the other benefactors have called it.”

  Sage’s eyes widened, dread squeezing her chest. “No,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

  “It is one thing to speak your mind in my presence, Sage, but it is quite another to speak so freely in public.” His voice rumbled low in her bones.

  “I understand. Really. I’m sorry.” Her heart thumped faster as she held her breath, waiting to see whether or not he’d changed his mind.

  “You are my pair. Not Edward’s.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “It’s not like I want to be his pair.”

  “Then you should really stop implying otherwise.” Weston’s words came out as almost a growl.

  “I was just—”

  “You will stay at my side. Willingly or otherwise.”

  Sage pursed her lips, biting down hard on her tongue. She wanted nothing more than to argue with him and tell him just how wrong he was, but it would do more harm than good. Losing her temper so much lately was seriously setting her back. She still needed him to trust her.

  “Do you enjoy the stars?”

  Her lips parted in surprise at the sudden change in subject. “Yeah. I do.
”

  “Me too.” He nodded, lifting his eyes to the sky. “But you can see them better at my estate. No city lights competing for attention there. Just a plain, pure glow,” he said thoughtfully. His eyes drifted back to hers. “They’re beautiful in their simplicity.”

  Sage shifted her weight, not saying anything. She was certain there was a hidden meaning behind his comment, but she wasn’t exactly sure what it was. It was impossible to determine what he ever really meant. She wasn’t sure if he loved her or viewed her as nothing more than a possession, a prize that he’d managed to save from the fire. Was she merely a conquest to him, or did he actually care?

  It didn’t matter. Whatever his motivations, he’d stolen her freedom, and she wasn’t about to let go of it without a fight.

  Weston sighed, scrubbing a hand over his chin. “In my mind, this evening was supposed to go differently.”

  She shot him an uncertain look. Maybe he wasn’t as angry with her as she’d thought.

  “Are you still in the mood to answer questions?” she asked hesitantly.

  Curiosity flickered across his face as he looked down at her. “That depends on the question.”

  She decided to ease in slowly. “You haven’t been paired before.” It didn’t really count as a question. They both knew he hadn’t been.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  His lips twitched. She wasn’t sure he’d answer at first, but then he looked her straight in the eye as he rolled his shoulders back. “Because I had the choice.”

  Choice.

  Sage clenched her jaw. He’d had one, but she never had. Even when she thought she’d been making a choice on her own—caring for Nic, pairing with Everett—none of those choices had really been her own. Everything had been manipulated by Eprah, and Eprah didn’t really care what happened to her one way or another as long as she followed the rules.

  Their lives couldn’t have been more different.

  “Was that your only question?” His voice jolted her back to the present.

  “No.” Her brows dipped as she turned back to him, pinning him with a serious look. “What really possessed you to trade the officer’s life for mine in that alley?”