I Dare You to Break Curfew

by Eva Muñoz

  My right eyebrow rose. Troyan had been secretive about his status too. I puffed out my cheeks on the exhale of a huge breath in an effort to calm my nerves.

  I shouldn’t blame him for keeping his position hidden from me. Everybody had their secrets. But my little introduction to the portrait of a man I didn’t know but recognized, twirled my already chaotic world off its axis. My mind worked on overtime. A small seed of hope was planted into my heart and it was growing fast. With every beat my heart made, the seed sprouted into a vine that was slowly, surely, wrapping itself around my heart. If I waited any longer, I was sure that vine of hope would end up wrapping all over my insides, spreading through my veins, getting into my stomach, overpowering my resolve to suppress my feelings.

  When I pushed Troyan away at the balcony, I thought I couldn’t handle being with him. His duty to his people was also a factor. He was a prince. I had no right to take him away from his ailing father. But with Zaire being an Effendi Excelsi also… I grabbed Perrin by the shoulders. I had found the answer I was looking for to set Troyan free.

  “Where is he?” I asked, almost manic.

  She blinked. “Who?”

  “Don’t play innocent, Perrin,” I said. “I don’t know what you’re playing at here or what you want to accomplish by showing me this portrait, but I need to see Zaire.”

  Perrin gave me a devious smile. I never knew someone could have so many different smiles before, making it even more disconcerting because those smiles were on such a young and innocent-looking face.

  “He’s probably in his study going over some reports,” she said.

  “Right. Care to take me there?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.” She twisted out of my grasp and skipped away.

  I gave the portrait of Yaris one last glance. He stared at me as if to say, I know what you plan to do. The thought made me shiver. An exiled king. One who had the power to forbid the consumption of their main food source.

  “Camron!” Perrin called. “Are you coming or not?”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re enjoying this too much?”

  “Nothing exciting ever happens anymore.”

  “Is that your way of saying I’m here to entertain your bored little princess butt?”

  She raked her blue gaze over me, and goose bumps rose on my arms. She was definitely keeping something from me too, and I was sick of all the secrets these Inshari had.

  “That remains to be seen,” she said.

  I shook my head and followed her lead. We hurried through the house. By the time we reached large double doors, my mind went blank. My throat constricted.

  Perrin leaned toward me and said, “What now?”

  My heart somersaulted and landed in a heap above my stomach. The intricate carvings on the doors of a forest scene with birds, rabbits, foxes, and an owl watching from the branch of an oak tree looked so calm, but what was behind those doors reduced me to a tight ball of nerves. Was I crazy enough to ask for what I wanted? The answer was so simple that it scared me.

  “Camron?” She pinched me.

  “Ow! Jeez.” I rubbed my arm. “I’m getting to that.”

  “You asked me to bring you here, and yet you don’t know what to do?”

  “I’m guessing you’re not too sure what to do either.” I gave her a sidelong glance.

  “Well, I thought—”

  “Shhh!” I pressed my ear to the trunk of the carved oak.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Will you shush? I thought I heard something.”

  Perrin copied my posture.

  With my ear against the wood, I made out a few words. My hearing wasn’t as acute as on the first day I woke up with the formula in my system. At this point it might not be a good thing.

  “Are you certain?” he asked.

  A baritone answered, “Yes, Effendi. We’ve been keeping watch. According to reports, the Bogatyr under his control are mobilizing.”

  “How many are allied with him?”

  “The numbers are unclear.” A pause, then rustling—maybe paper. “Not more than 50 percent of the troops. Many are still loyal to Darius.”

  My breath hitched.

  “Even less than 50 percent is still too many. We’ll have a problem,” Zaire said.

  “Not necessarily, sire. Your troops are ready for any eventuality.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

  The double doors opened inward, sending Perrin and myself stumbling into the study and falling to the floor on our hands and knees.

  I lifted my head.

  A man with long ice-blond hair, wearing a silver breastplate with the lion crest emblazoned on it, stood in front of us. He had blue eyes so light they were almost white. Shallow wrinkles gave his face character.

  “I believe we have two spies among us, sire,” he said, spreading his lips to a grim line.

  I glanced at Zaire, who half sat on the edge of a large desk carved from the same wood as the doors. It had their family crest on its front panel. He crossed his legs at the ankles while his arms folded across his chest. The spark in his arctic-blue eyes spoke of playfulness. It matched his devilish grin.

  “Hello,” Perrin greeted. “We were just coming to see you.”

  “Perrin, how many times do I have to tell you to stop listening in on my meetings?” Zaire displayed mock disappointment. “It’s for your own safety, scamp.”

  Perrin beamed at her brother as if she played spy all the time. “But then, where would I get all my information from?”

  “You should be out playing or doing what girls your age like to do.”

  “I like to spy,” she said. “That’s what I like to do.”

  Zaire glanced at the soldier. “You may leave now.”

  The man grunted, scowling at me. I grinned. Our eyes locked for another second before he gave Zaire a curt nod and strode out of the study in measured strides.

  “Now,” Zaire said, coming before me, “should I be afraid to ask why you are here?”

  I stood up and dusted invisible dirt off my pants. “Perrin took me on a tour of the house. You know, like normal stuff. I discovered nothing about your family at all.”

  “Zaire, won’t you help your dearest sister up?” Perrin whined.

  “I have only one sister, and sadly, she proves to be a constant headache.” Zaire lifted Perrin into the air, eliciting a delighted squeal from her.

  Perrin never seemed younger than in that moment. She actually looked twelve in human years. And the smile on Zaire’s face as he swung his sister down was priceless.

  Memories of my mother invaded my thoughts. Her smile. Her laugh. That cold winter morning she taught me how to make snow angels.

  I pushed images of her away. I needed to concentrate on what I came to Zaire’s study for.

  “Zaire, we need to talk,” I said.

  Concern wrinkled his brow at my tone. He returned his gaze to Perrin. “What’ve you been sharing with this villyat?”

  “Nothing he doesn’t deserve to know.” Her blonde eyebrows came together in a stubborn line.

  He sighed deeply. “Leave us, then, scamp.” He turned Perrin around and nudged her forward. She giggled all the way out of the room and winked at me before shutting the double doors.

  “Why don’t you take a seat?” Zaire pointed at one of the chairs facing the desk. “I have a feeling this will take a while.”

  Too restless to sit, I stayed in the middle of the room and crossed my arms. “Who’s mobilizing the Bogatyr?”

  “That’s not what you came here to discuss.”

  I lifted my chin. “Well, I want to know.”

  “It’s none of your concern.”

  “For all I know, I’m the cause of all this. Who was that with you?”

  “The captain of the Vityas.”

  “The what?”

  “They’re similar to the Bogatyr, only….” Zaire paused.

  “Only?” I stepped forward.

/>   “The Vityas serve the royal family.”

  “Your family.”

  He nodded once, sorrow in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have agreed when Troyan asked me to keep an eye on you.”

  My heart picked up its pace. “Tell me about what happened, Zaire. Why was your father exiled? Gaige brushed it off as unimportant, but I don’t think it is.”

  He leaned his shoulder against the side of the leather chair behind his desk and clutched his elbows with his hands.

  “The Traditionalists are planning something,” he said. “Ever since the eradication of the Black Death, they’ve continually lobbied for the return to the old ways.”

  A large lump lodged itself in my throat. “By old ways, you mean….”

  “Returning the status of humans to livestock, yes.” Zaire leveled an even stare at me. “We’ve been monitoring their movements. They were never happy with Gaige’s experiments. The sudden outbreak of the plague a few years back, the miscarriages, the inoculations. The Traditionalists believe Gaige is hiding something from them.”

  And then some.

  “I’m guessing you already know my secret?”

  “Camron”—Zaire shook his head at me—“you underestimate my intelligence. I met you as a human. Now, you’re less that and more like us. Don’t you think it’s obvious you’d want to hide that fact?”

  I bit the tip of my tongue to keep from saying yes aloud. He confirmed what Troyan said about the Traditionalists. They were a threat not only to me but to the peace of the colony. And they were sniffing too close to the secret Gaige had kept for centuries. That seed of foreboding in my heart blossomed. If the Traditionalists got wind of the disease, then they would get their way for sure. And the closest humans? My gut clenched. The Braylin students.

  “Their suspicion of Gaige’s activities in the lab is making them proceed with their plans. Troyan believes Gaige isn’t concerned by these developments. At least he hardly seems perturbed by the continuing probes and inquests of the Traditionalists into his experiments,” Zaire continued. “Vladimir—”

  Despite my concern for what Zaire’s words meant, I quickly caught up with his intentions. He distracted me from my original question.

  “Whoa!” I yelled and ran to the desk, then slammed my hands on the wood. A few sheets of paper fell to the floor. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Answering your question.” He shrugged with maddening indifference.

  “That’s not my question.”

  “You had several. I simply chose which one to answer.”

  My muscles tensed amid barely leashed frustration. I wanted to grab his impeccably pressed shirt and yank him across the desk. I slumped into a chair and massaged my temples instead.

  A couple deep breaths later, I asked, “The Imperator?”

  Zaire had the gall to snigger at me. “Vladimir has been a staunch Traditionalist since the days of my father.” A hint of pain entered his eyes. “He seethes at the thought of Darius taking the throne. Before Darius was Excelsior, he was the Imperator. And he’s married to my aunt.”

  I gaped. Troyan and Zaire were first cousins. Huh, who’d have thought? Well, they bickered like family. Figures.

  “So, Darius became king. And you?”

  “Me?”

  Irritated, I said, “Vladimir wants the throne.”

  “Retract the claws, little cat.” Zaire regarded me with a guarded stare.

  “Then stop playing around and answer me directly.”

  “Yes, Vladimir wants the throne, but he needs just cause to take it.”

  “What could give him….” The words refused to come out of my mouth. I swallowed. “Me? He wants me.”

  “What Gaige has done could give Vladimir the ammunition he needs to further his ambitions.”

  “And how much does Vladimir know?”

  “He can’t prove anything yet. He’s just mobilizing.” Zaire organized the remaining papers on his desk. “Although, this latest inquiry into Gaige’s experiments has us worried. You coming into the picture changes things drastically. There are too many rumors roaming around already.”

  “But Darius—”

  “You aren’t worried about Darius.” He moved to me in easy, gliding steps. He grasped the armrests of the chair, hemming me in.

  “And why not?” I pushed him away and stood quickly, moving to the center of the room again.

  “Because we both know you’re worried about a certain Effendi Excelsi. Am I close?” He followed.

  I stared him in the eye as he backed me into one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves of one wall. The hairs at the back of my neck and arms rose at his smooth yet hostile tone.

  “What if I was?” I challenged.

  Zaire grinned, but there was something so feral about the movement of his lips that I thought he was going to take a bite out of me.

  “I would make a better match for you,” he said.

  “I’m sorry, Zaire.” My breathing turned shallow.

  “He can never be yours.”

  “And you can?” I laughed at that. “Zaire, you’re a prince too, and with more rights to the throne than anyone in this colony.”

  “Then why did you come here?” He placed his hands on my shoulders. Their firm grip kept me still.

  My heart twisted. I cared for Zaire, but not in the way he wanted me to.

  “I’m being selfish,” I said, turning my head to the side.

  Cupping my chin with one hand, Zaire turned my head back to face him again. “What do you want from me?”

  “Take the throne,” I whispered, tears flooding my eyes. “Take the throne and release Troyan from his duty.”

  The sadness in Zaire’s eyes was heartbreaking, as if he was watching someone he cared about die in front of him and there was nothing he could do. I knew those eyes. My father had that same expression almost every day until my mother died.

  “You are being selfish, little cat,” he said softly. “What makes you think I could?”

  “Because you are Superiori,” I said. Zaire’s eyes widened a fraction. “And your father was the Excelsior.”

  “What makes you think I would take it?”

  “Because,” I swallowed, “you have to.”

  Helpless laughter came out of Zaire. It was a sad laugh. Then his face hardened to an emotionless mask that scared me.

  “For a kiss, then,” he said.

  “A what?” I asked, slack-jawed, my brain blacking out.

  “A kiss for the throne. You can give me that much, can’t you, little cat?”

  I had to blink several times to fully comprehend what Zaire was asking me. A kiss? The ice in his eyes melted. A roguish grin replaced the dour line of his lips. Zaire may be handsome, and he may have tempted me when we were hiding from the palace guards, but Troyan was… Troyan. No one could compare. I knew it from the night he drove me home to the dorms. The way he made me feel was enough to shatter my world and put it back together again in seconds.

  “Zaire, not like this,” I said, my heart beating in my throat.

  “That’s my price.” He moved away.

  Zaire’s price was too steep. If I kissed him, I’d be betraying what I have with Troyan. But if I didn’t kiss him, I might as well say goodbye to Troyan now. Damn Zaire for being too complicated.

  With a hurried breath, I grabbed Zaire’s shirt and pulled him back. He more than willingly obliged. I captured his lips with mine. A soft, feathery touch. Just as I was about to pull away, his hands clasped my waist and pulled my overheated body flush against the coolness of his.

  I barely heard the door open. Suddenly, Zaire’s lips left mine. And when I opened my eyes, the sight of a fist startled me, followed by a loud crash to my right. Quivering I turned my head and watched Zaire pick himself up from the desk he had slammed into. The heavy piece of furniture had tipped over, and papers rained around him.

  “Stay away from him,” Troyan said, gravel in his voice.

  Staggering, I gasped f
or breath that wouldn’t come.

  “Ah, the dutiful prince arrives. You should see your face right now. I’d say you’ve lost that emotionless reputation of yours, cousin,” Zaire said. The bruise on his cheek healed almost immediately.

  Troyan’s potent rage had my heart racing. His fiery gaze shifted to me.

  “I want him,” Zaire continued. “Besides, you can never give him the kind of affection he needs.”

  I clenched my fists and scrambled to think of a way to make things better. My heart beat too fast. My breaths became too shallow. The world around me began to spin.

  Troyan lunged at Zaire.

  Moisture dripped from my upper lip to my chin. I lifted my fingers and swiped at it. I brought my hand to eye level. It took me a moment to realize I had a nosebleed. My knees buckled.

  Chapter Nineteen: Restless

  A PRICK on my arm woke me. I sighed, feeling the needle being pulled out and something soft and moist replacing it, applying pressure to the puncture wound. My eyes fluttered open. I needed a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. The overabundance of frills said I was back in the room in Zaire’s house.

  Bottomless onyx eyes studied me when I turned my head to the side.

  “Troyan?” I mumbled, my voice still rough from sleep.

  “No,” my visitor said. “Not Troyan.”

  It took me a couple more seconds to recognize the messy hair and ashen pallor of the figure sitting by my bed.

  “Gaige?” I swallowed, attempting to relieve a scratchy throat. “What happened to me?”

  “You collapsed. You’re growing weaker.”

  I tried to recall what happened. My eyes widened a fraction. I grabbed the sleeve of his lab coat.

  “Gaige, they’re coming for you.”

  “Who’s after me?” he asked with a small smile.

  “Zaire….” I swallowed again.

  “Zaire’s after me?”

  I shook my head. “Water.”

  Thankfully, he didn’t joke about water being after him. He handed me a goblet and supported my shoulders with his arm as I took a sip. The coolness brought much-needed relief. I took one more gulp before settling into the covers again.

  “The Traditionalists,” I said after clearing my throat. “Zaire told me they’re suspicious about the outbreak and the miscarriages and your experiments. They’re coming for you.”