by Kate Martin
The General said nothing.
“There. It is decided,” Aldric said without a hint of sympathy. “Now send the caretaker in. You can talk all you like to the reader through the intercom.”
Demitri looked at Sonya. She did nothing but glare at Aldric’s back. Rourke stepped forward and placed a hand on Demitri’s arm. “I will do it,” he said, then went through the door.
No one said anything else. Aldric remained a statue. Demitri coaxed Sonya to her feet and went about calming her. Nadia sat on the long cushioned bench that ran the length of the back of the room, Osgar at her side. Cordoba and Tyrus continued standing.
I knew I wasn’t allowed to speak, but I was fairly sure that applied only to their decision. I took a chance and gave Aurelia a small nudge. “What happens now?” I whispered. I thought maybe the answer would alleviate some of the nervousness I could still see crippling Solo.
Aurelia took me by the elbow and turned me towards the window. “Now, the caretaker will bring the mind reader into the room beyond.” Almost as though she had done it herself, the room on the other side lit up.
It was all white. White like one of those padded rooms they locked crazy people in. And the walls did look padded. The light was soft though, calming. Not harsh enough to reflect off the white walls and floor. Two doors gave access, one on the same side as the door we had all entered this dull, cold room through, and the other opposite that.
Rourke returned a minute later. He looked first to the General, then past him, to Solo. “It’s time,” he said.
Solo let out a long breath, then nodded. He looked at me, and I suddenly had the feeling that he was giving me the chance to take it all back, to spare him this. But sparing him meant sacrificing Rhys.
I couldn’t do that.
“Thank you,” was all I said.
He looked utterly disappointed. “Sure. Anything for you, Kass.” He leaned in close. “This is for you, remember that. Not him. I’m doing this to save your life.” With that he stepped forward and went with Rourke.
Guilt and anxiousness warred within me.
The door on the opposite side of the white room opened. A young woman, hair pulled up into a neat bun, wearing a black uniform that covered her completely entered. A turtleneck with long sleeves bore a white insignia I now recognized as Sonya’s crest on the left of her chest. Black gloves accompanied black pants and shoes. I supposed it all made flesh on flesh contact more easily avoidable. The girl waited patiently just inside the room, hands folded in front of her as she watched the doorway.
I watched with her.
A hand came first, fingers curling hesitantly around the doorframe before the toes of one bare foot peeked out below. His heart-shaped face came next, wide blue eyes searching every which way. When he finally stepped inside, I could see the grey tee-shirt he wore with black and grey plaid pajama pants. He looked like a kid in a college dorm, only far more timid and with eyes that spoke of centuries of experiences—mostly painful. His hair hung over his face, swinging lightly as he took three steps further into the room.
He was, in a word, beautiful. Just as Aurelia had said.
His gaze passed over the room once, then turned towards the window we all stood behind. I knew the moment he stumbled back, clutching at the air for some comfort that wasn’t there, that this was not a one-way window as I had first thought. He could see us as well as we could see him.
“Mistress?” Panic laced his voice, hitching the word so that the last syllable cracked.
Sonya rushed to the window in that very next instant, hitting a button at the very edge of the wall as she pressed her other hand against the glass. “I’m here, my darling. Here.”
He stumbled to her, holding her hand up to match hers on the window. The proximity was clearly not enough for him. He shook uncontrollably. “Mistress, what . . . why . . . please.” His gaze slid to Aldric who stood only inches away.
Sonya tapped her middle finger on the glass to gain his attention back. “Here, my love, look here.” She waited for him to do so. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I have to stay here this time.”
“NO!”
Everyone froze at the sound of pure terror. Even Daniel. His eyes had widened further, and his shaking had increased. Though his fear clearly took precedence, he too had been shocked by his scream.
For one brief moment I thought Sonya would break down and cry, possibly even beg the others to retract their order for her to keep her distance. But she didn’t. “Daniel, listen to me. You will do this, with no nonsense. And when it is over I will stay with you until you are right again.”
“No, Mistress, please.”
“Penny is there to help you and I will be right here the entire time.”
“It hurts.” He grabbed his head with both hands, squeezing his eyes shut.
“It cannot possibly hurt right now, Daniel.” Sonya actually sounded a bit annoyed. “Only Penny is there. We are all behind the barrier. You are imagining it.”
“No, no, no . . .” Daniel chanted over and over again.
The girl—Penny—moved at Sonya’s signal. She reached out to take Daniel by the arms, to pull his hands away from his hair—he had begun pulling—but Daniel batted her away screaming, “Get out! Get out!”
Penny stepped back and looked through the glass to Sonya. “He only ever gets like this when there are too many people around.”
“I know that,” Sonya snapped. “But it shouldn’t be a problem now. He should only be able to hear you.”
Daniel collapsed to the floor. Knees drawn up to his head, hands still over his ears as though he could block out the mental voices, he changed his chant. “I hear, I hear, I hear.”
Sonya slammed her hand against the thick glass. The light in both rooms dimmed for a moment before returning to normal. “Who? Who do you hear, Daniel?”
He said nothing, just made small sounds of distress, but then he raised his head to look at all of us once again. “I hear . . . I hear . . .” he whispered, face contorted in pain. He passed over Aldric, Demitri, and those who stood far in the back of the room. He lingered on the General for a moment, but then looked at Aurelia, and finally . . . me.
Chapter Twenty-seven: Truth
I stopped breathing. It couldn’t be possible. He couldn’t hear me. I was behind the glass, on the other side of the wall. The current that ran through both was supposed to protect him from our thoughts. If he could hear me . . . No way. Why would he hear me and no one else? But he stared right at me. Only a second passed, but it was enough. I knew. He heard every thought in my mind.
I panicked. They would make me leave. I had to be here. I had to see what Solo’s mind told him. I had to know firsthand, had to see, that Rhys had been proven innocent to all of them. I had to.
“Aurelia.”
That single word, that name, was spoken so quietly I almost thought I had imagined it. But I hadn’t. Daniel had said, “Aurelia.”
Sonya needed clarification. “What was that?”
Daniel looked back at her, then pressed his hands against his ears so tightly it looked like he might crush his own head. “Aurelia! I hear her!” His shaking and crying returned.
Every pair of eyes was turned this way. But not at me. Not at me. At Aurelia.
Her hand touched mine briefly, fingers squeezing mine for a fraction of a second, then the touch was gone. She held her head high. “I apologize. I have been working on my strength of mind as of late. I will leave.” She silenced the General with a kiss, then swept out of the room.
I stared at the boy on the floor of the other room. I knew he had heard me. And though my thoughts caused him this kind of pain, so much that he clutched his head and sobbed, he had covered for me. As the door shut behind Aurelia, he calmed ever so slightly. How impossible that task must have been.
I pledged to return the favor somehow. I worked to quiet my mind, to focus as Aurelia had taught me. When that didn’t work, when all I could think about was Rhys being torn apart
and forced to watch me die, I decided on a different course. I simply thought, “thank you” over and over and over again.
“It’s not going to get any better than this until I get in there,” Sonya said. “So just bring in the damned stray already.”
The door that opened into the hall we had entered from clicked and slid into the wall, rather than swinging like most. Rourke was barely visible from the shadows, but I could make out when his long-fingered hand pushed Solo from behind, sending him stumbling into the white room. The door slid shut, and the electronic lock lit up.
Daniel started screaming again.
Penny went to him, gloved hands touching gently, trying to sooth him, but to no avail. She looked at Sonya, helpless.
“Daniel. Daniel, look at me.” Sonya growled when she got no response and turned, glaring at the men that surrounded her. “He won’t do it. Not without me. My thoughts are all that calm him.”
Tyrus stormed to the front of the room, getting in Sonya’s face. “Make him. Make him just as you would if you wanted to know Demitri’s killer.”
Demitri stepped up, wrapping an arm around Sonya’s waist. All the while, she looked Tyrus straight in the eyes. I had the unsettling knowledge of what she must have been imagining. Demitri, her love, dead and gone. The same thing Tyrus had experienced. The same thing Rhys had lived two times over. The same thing I was trying to avoid for a third time. How sad, all we had in common.
Sonya turned back to the white room. “Daniel, stop your tantrum now and do your job.” Her tone was far colder than I ever would have expected it capable of being. “I want to know who killed Lydia. That boy there knows. You read his mind, and you tell me. Do it now before I take you outside the house.”
Daniel’s hands dropped from his head instantly, his eyes wide with fear. “No, Mistress! No! Please don’t do that.”
“Then do what I ask. Now.”
Still shaking from the stress inflicted on his body, Daniel dragged himself to his knees. Trembling hands gripped the floor even as he raised his head to look at Solo.
Penny stepped forward, gesturing for Solo to come close. “He must touch you for this level of reading. The farther front you can bring your thoughts, your memories, of this matter the less he will have to dig. Trust me, you do not want him to dig more than necessary.”
Solo’s face had gone gothically pale, but he stepped up, kneeling in front of the mind reader when he was instructed to. Sonya switched to gentle encouragement for Daniel, the low melody of her voice the only sound in the room.
I watched Solo as though he were the only person in the world. Everything depended on him. Come morning I would either be clutching Rhys tightly as he was returned to freedom, or praying for a quick death that would be easy on my love. It would be the first. I was sure of it. I had complete faith that Solo hadn’t lied. He knew the truth, and now they all would.
My eyes met his an instant before Daniel’s tremulous hand touched his cheek.
Screams shattered the previous silence of the air.
I didn’t want to watch. I wanted to press my face into the General’s back and cover my ears. But I didn’t, I couldn’t. Daniel dragged a second hand to Solo’s face even as he cried, mouth open in silent pain. Solo screamed. Eyes open wide in shock, pain, and probably whatever else I could imagine, he grabbed at Daniel’s wrists as though to pull his hands away. Instead, he doubled over when Daniel pulled, their foreheads meeting halfway. The screaming intensified.
After what seemed an eternity, Sonya yelled, “Enough!”
Daniel flew away from Solo, falling harshly to his back on the thankfully padded floor. Solo collapsed as well, hands at his face and chest as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Penny rushed to Daniel, not touching, but snapping in his face for his attention.
“Speak, Daniel. Tell them,” she said.
“Thera!” he yelled, his voice ragged and strained. “Thera, she did it!” He writhed on the floor as he continued, pulling at his hair until the once neat braid was a tangle. “She stalked Lydia, envied her. It was just a game. Killed her for fun. Just wanted to see if she could. She cut her up, put her together, tore her apart again.” He screamed and cried, but continued, rattling off gruesome, unthinkable details.
When he was finished, curled into a sobbing ball on the floor, everyone looked at Tyrus.
“Well?” Demitri asked, still holding Sonya. “Does what he says make sense?”
All the emotion I had never seen on Tyrus’s face was there now. He looked absolutely tortured. He looked like Rhys did whenever he remembered finding Eva.
“Yes,” he said, voice hitching ever so slightly as he watched the scene in the white room. “Every detail is correct. Down to the very last cut. The stray must know the truth. But who is this Thera?”
“Solo’s sire,” the General said. “The one he is on watch for killing.”
Sonya looked ready to break through the window. “Are you satisfied, Tyrus?”
“Yes. I suppose I must be. Though I would have liked to have had my own vengeance.”
Sonya was gone. Out the door and around to the white room. She fell to her knees beside Daniel, pulling him into her arms, kissing him and touching him. Daniel clung to her, his hands everywhere, anywhere he could find bare skin. Penny went to Solo and guided him outside.
I felt . . . everything all at once. I realized a huge smile had spread across my face, making my cheeks hurt. At the same time, tears poured down my face and over my neck. Rhys was safe. I was safe. The second thought was there, but it seemed so much less significant than the first. Rhys was safe. He wouldn’t be taken apart, tortured by my death. They would release him, and I could hold him again.
The General held me by the shoulders and I was grateful. My legs went wobbly. “Retract your charges, Tyrus. Cover the formalities so we can send word to Infragilis,” he said.
Nadia stood and went to Tyrus, placing a hand on his cheek when he didn’t speak right away. Finally, he spoke. “No charges stand against Rhys O’Shea. He is innocent in the matter of Lydia’s death.” He turned and looked at me. “I do not demand reparations and the death of his mate, Kassandra Thomas.”
The General relaxed as I did. His hands moved from my shoulders to wrap around me in a hug. I laughed in relief, and memorized each and every word he spoke next.
“Send word to Infragilis. Tell them the dismemberment is off, and there will be no execution.”
Cordoba stepped forward. “I will do it, my friend.” He pulled out his phone, then went out of the room.
I spun around in the General’s arms. “Can we go get him? Now? Let’s go.” All I wanted was Rhys. I wanted to feel him, smell him, kiss him, possess him.
He tapped the end of my nose with a finger. “I am as anxious as you are, my dear. But I think there is someone else you should see first.”
Someone else? There was no one else as far as I was concerned. Rhys was everything; all that mattered. The General must have seen all this written on my face, because he frowned and continued. “Solo did a great thing for you tonight. Go see him and I will make the arrangements.”
Solo! Oh god. How terrible was I for forgetting him already? I ran from the room and into the hall, pushing past Nadia and almost knocking over Rourke who stood just at my intended exit.
I skidded to turn and head left immediately, but Aurelia stopped me, catching both arms and bringing me to a dead halt.
“We have to talk, Kassandra.”
I knew what about. “I know, but I need to see Solo right now.”
“Your mind is stronger than we thought. That is a power you cannot afford to ignore.”
She clearly hadn’t put two and two together as Cade and I had. “I don’t care about any of that.”
“It does not matter.”
“This really needs to be done another time.” I tried to pull away, but she held firm.
“I agree. Just remember that we will speak about it.”
“I ha
ve no doubt.” I pulled again and this time she let me go. She would never let me forget. And now I owed her. Just as Daniel had covered by naming her instead of me, Aurelia had known the truth as well, and had gone along to let me stay.
Crap. The last thing I needed was to be indebted to that woman.
Well, maybe not the last thing.
I brushed past her, hearing the General come to the door. He would distract her, keep her away from me. I took two more steps down the dark hall before I made out the dark silhouette in the far corner. “Solo?” I moved towards him cautiously. I had no idea what had been so painful about having your mind read, but his screams would haunt me. I wouldn’t chance making anything worse.
Only labored breathing answered me. I tried again. “Solo?”
He knocked his head back against the wall. “Are you safe now?”
“Yes.” The feeling of being a terrible person returned. I had used him, sacrificed him, all to save Rhys. But I couldn’t regret it. I would do it all over again. The knowledge caused a tear to slip free again. “Yes, I’m safe.” He didn’t want to hear about Rhys, so I didn’t mention him. It was the most I could do to thank him at that moment.
“Good.”
“Is . . . is there anything I can do? Are you all right?”
I couldn’t help the nervousness that crept upon me as soon as he pushed away from the wall. Every step he took towards me sent another wave of shame and guilt. The shadows of the corner seemed to melt away, and with their absence I was forced to look what I had done straight in the face.
Haggard and pale, dark circles accented his normally cheerful and sparkling eyes. His hair stuck out in all directions, and I could see the tremor that worked its way over his body, causing him to jerk with a violent shake every so often.
“Oh god, Solo. I’m so sorry.” I reached out for him, but he kept out of reach.
“No, you’re not. You got what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want you hurt like this.”
“You just wanted Rhys saved. I get it. You don’t have to explain yourself.”