And that’s when she knew the man told the truth. Oliver was alive! The ring could be explained away. The story of Oliver’s desertion could be an elaborate lie. But this man knew much about her brother, down to their matching birthmarks. How could a rogue know this, except from the mouth of her sibling?
“Why isn’t he here?” she demanded.
“Your brother is one of the most wanted people in the world. We are very careful with his movements.”
Oh, please. “And you’re dispensable?”
“No.” He smiled like the Cheshire cat. The expression on such an immense man made her shiver. “Merely powerful enough to do the job.”
She eyed him doubtfully. “And you would risk your life why?”
“Because your brother asked me to.”
That would require a rogue to possess loyalty. “Right,” she drawled.
He flicked a worried glance to his right before stepping closer. “How could a relation of Oliver’s be so blind?”
Here we go. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
His nearness was putting her on edge. Was he going to attack? She would unleash a can of whoop-ass if he did, powerful rogue or not.
“You don’t see what the organization is doing?”
“Putting your kind down because they’re scum?”
“Incredible.” His tone belied the wrath she saw churning in his black eyes. “You give off the air of intelligence, but truly possess none.”
If he took another step, Harper would turn him into rogue sashimi.
His eyes flickered to the right once more, and a moment later her own senses picked up the rapid approach of others.
His hand clamped around her arm. “I’d hoped to explain everything to you before relocating to The Down, but it cannot be helped.”
She tried to shake her way free, to no avail. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold your proverbial horses. What makes you think I’m going anywhere?”
He stared at her in a way that made Harper believe he could see her face. Was it possible?
“You followed me here after no more than a passing remark. You defied your organization and went translucent to do so. Now I’ve given you much more than a passing remark. You will undoubtedly choose to come,” he said.
Infuriating was the word coming to mind, closely followed by the feeling she was out of her depth with this piece of crap rogue. But he was right about one thing. Damn him. She couldn’t turn back knowing Oliver could be less than half an hour’s flight away. And yet, Harper wavered on the edge of a precipice. If the other teams caught her now, trying to take the prisoner down, she could return.
His grip on her arm tightened.
If the teams surrounding them reported Harper and the prisoner fled together, there was no return.
Was she willing to risk it all for a brother who’d left her? Was she going to believe Oliver was still alive, based on the word of a rogue?
Her jaw set and she jerked her head. “Lead the way.”
I am going to kill my twin brother.
Chapter Three
With the small head start, they easily evaded their pursuers.
Harper’s anger simmered as the rogue made no effort to disguise the fact that he was slowing down for her.
Her unease grew as the scenery changed again from sea cliffs to the dingy, desert outskirts of The Down. The heat here came in waves, and dust settled over everything, including other dust. It was dirty, just like the people hiding here.
Shit. She was certain she was making the biggest mistake. The guy she now travelled beside had just been tortured for a month! Was she really expecting him to lead her to her brother? And even if he did, then what?
Too late, Harper realized she’d just done something insane. Corporal Harper, AWOL. Most wanted. She’d be dead in six months, tops.
The rogue began to descend. He’d kept his visible form to fly—yet another display of power, and something Harper wasn’t capable of. And he’d only done it to cater to her weaknesses, so she could see him.
Jerk.
The rogue landed on the level roof of a mud-brick building and she dropped in a crouch beside him. Harper scrunched her nose at the smells of The Down: rotten food, filthy people, grime. Didn’t they believe in disinfectant? Yuck.
She stayed translucent so the humans couldn’t see her, but the dozens of hostile eyes regarding her made it clear that the rogues knew she was here. So many rogues.
Harper swallowed back her fear, aware the stronger of them could sense it, drawn toward it.
“You will be safe,” the man beside her said.
“And you’ll be safe if you’ve told the truth, rogue.”
Her insult glanced off his amusement like an arrow off a shield. He swung down to the narrow dirt passageway beside the building. Battling her misgivings, she followed.
Dull clothing and worn rugs hung across the narrow path. The rogues whispered and pointed as she weaved her way behind her guide. If glares were punches, she’d be knocked out already. But the scum didn’t approach when they saw who walked slightly in front of her. In fact, they backed away.
The towering rogue brushed aside a woven rug masking a doorway and stooped to squeeze through the space. Harper stepped over the threshold on light feet, blinking to adjust to the dimness inside. The mud-brick room was empty.
“Come,” came an order from the opposite side of the room.
Harper ground her teeth together.
She trailed after the rogue through a maze of trapdoors, tunnels, and panels, wondering what you said to a twin that left you to think he was dead for three years. She had no idea. The prisoner—ex-prisoner—stopped outside a door.
“We’re here.” He tossed her a cotton dress folded on a table outside the door. They’d obviously been expecting her.
Five years ago the dress might have been considered white.
He didn’t bother averting her eyes as she dropped her translucence and threw the dress over her head. She hadn’t worn a stupid dress since childhood. Given the dust and sliminess of The Down, she was just grateful the garment was clean.
Harper reached for the door handle, but her hand was seized in an iron grip.
“Me first.”
“In your own time, then.” She gave her best sarcastic smile.
Contempt flashed in his eyes and she felt triumph and guilt in equal measure. If her brother was on the other side of the door, this rogue had gone through a month of torture simply to retrieve her.
But Harper wasn’t about to thank him yet.
The rogue pushed the door open, and her ears pricked at the tones of a familiar voice.
Oliver.
“That must be her now.”
The sound almost brought her to her knees.
Harper stood in the doorway of a tiny room. Mud-brick, like all the houses she’d passed. The wooden floorboards were dotted with dried boot prints. It was barely decorated with a rickety table and chairs, and standing by the sole window of the room, light purple hair pushed back to expose a high forehead, eyes sharper than her memories of him ever possessed, and holding himself with an air of command he’d never had before, was her brother.
She crossed the room, mouth ajar, hardly believing her eyes. Her Ollie. Her twin! He reached out his arms to her, and she could see the softening underneath his acquired meanness.
A few steps more. Harper pulled back her right arm.
“You bastard.” She slammed a fist into her twin’s jaw.
His head rocked back and he clutched at his face, wincing. “That insult doesn’t really work, coming from a twin.”
She drew back her left arm and delivered symmetry to her brother’s face. “Prick.”
There was a collective gasp, which she ignored. Three others in the room, not including the powerful rogue.
Oliver was putting distance between them, eyeing her apprehensively. She’d always won their fights, and he’d better damn well remember it, Harper thought.
“You were gone much longer than we planned.” Oliver spoke over her head.
“She was out on mission. Your mistake, I believe,” the rogue returned.
Oliver forgot her for the moment, staring at the man who’d led her here. “I see,” he said quietly, gathering the rogue’s extended stay hadn’t been pleasant. “Thank you for retrieving her, Ryker. It can’t have been easy.”
Ryker. The name suits the big boofer.
“There was no chance to debrief her on the . . . situation, Ollie. I believe an explanation would go a fair way in calming the shrew down.”
“That might have insulted me four centuries ago, old timer,” she shot over her shoulder.
Her comment elicited the same collective gasp. Oliver and Ryker were in high positions, judging by the reaction to her behavior. But the pair were friends. Who had more power?
“Harper,” Oliver sighed. “You better take a seat.”
“No.”
“As you please.”
Harper went to the closest wall and placed her back against it. She was right; there were three unknowns in the room. Two women and a man. She disregarded them, not interested in the slightest.
“The organization is a setup,” Oliver started.
She didn’t laugh or scoff as she had with Rogue Ryker. She respected her brother and his mind. Even if she decided he was pushing dung uphill, she would listen to what he had to say. Part of it was morbid curiosity. What was important enough to abandon your family over? “Go on.”
“Remember that mission we went on, back in our second year—the house at the back of that god-awful swamp? We’d been gathering intel for months.”
Harper remembered every mission. She nodded.
“I killed a rogue there,” he said, eyes darkening. “But not before he asked a question. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t shake it off.”
“The question?” she asked.
Oliver’s amber eyes were clouded. “He asked me why I thought we had trackers in our arms.”
“To monitor numbers, and—”
He waved a hand. “Yes, yes. I knew that. It wasn’t so much the question; it was the tone he asked it in. Like it was a joke. He was about to die, but made me feel like I should be pitied. I couldn’t shake it,” Oliver repeated. “So I began to dig. The long and short is, I uncovered the truth.”
Oliver gripped the chair in front of him. It gave a threatening creak. He looked up and met her eyes.
“When translucents and rogues were first discovered, humankind foresaw the end of their freedom at the hands of two more powerful species.”
“Translucents are a peaceful race,” Harper interjected.
“So are rogues,” Oliver whispered. “Both of us have co-existed with humans since the dawn of time.”
Harper glanced away. She’d believe that when The Down smelt like roses.
“A secret organization was formed by human leaders at the time. And then, coincidentally, the rumors of rogue terrorism on humankind began. According to those who were alive at the time, it wasn’t hard. Not when—”
“When rogues can control the human mind,” she said.
“Exactly,” Oliver agreed grimly. “This secret organization played on fears that were already present. The rumors spread unchecked. The rogues were solitary creatures at the time and had no community or representative of their own. Years later, once the hate of rogues was deeply rooted in humans, the organization was brought to public attention. And soon, in response to the rogues’ ‘terrorism’, large numbers of translucents were convinced to help the organization as enforcers.”
Harper’s mouth was dry and her heart raced. This couldn’t be true.
“More incidents were staged; hundreds of human lives were lost. There were even attacks on translucents. And that’s when the organization introduced the trackers, telling us it was a safety measure.”
“But to what end?” Harper whispered, circling to her brother’s side. “Why would they go to such trouble?”
“To eradicate the species who posed the greatest threat to humankind.”
It was simple enough to be believable.
“The humans had no defense against mental warfare,” he continued. “But with the rogues out of the way, they would be able to meet us head-on. It is our belief that, if the organization succeeds in destroying rogues, translucents will be their next target.”
Keeping her composure was almost too much. At surface level she could accept what her twin said. It was her mind that baulked at the consequences of accepting Oliver’s words as truth. If Harper believed him, she’d have to believe she spent ten years aiding in the extinction of a guiltless race. It can’t have been a lie, she thought. She would have seen it. If it’s true, what does that say about who I am?
“And you figured this all out?” She asked while trying to get her emotions under control.
“The rogue elders filled in the blanks when I arrived,” he replied. “When I was back at the organization, I took to interrogating rogues before finishing them. I began to notice things about the high command that didn’t gel. I watched the reports of rogue terrorist attacks through different eyes and assessed the rogues we were sent to kill and capture, instead of completing my missions mindlessly. It took months—believe me, months—to believe everything they’d told us was a lie.”
“And then you left,” Harper said for him. She turned to face the brick wall in a bid to control the burning sensation behind her eyes. She raised a finger and wiped the wall, surprised when it came away clean.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder.
“You were meant to be there that day, with me,” he said quietly. “I was frantic when I received word you’d left on a different mission.”
It was hard for him? “It took you months to believe the rogues were innocent?” Harper asked in a pleasant voice.
She spun around and smiled at him.
“Yes,” he said after a pause.
Harper folded her arms. “Then by my way of thinking, months passed when you could have told me your suspicions. Oh, wait,” she snarled. “Let’s talk about the three years you let me think you were dead.” The tears finally filled her eyes. “I thought you were dead, Ollie. Dead! Gone! They told me your body couldn’t be identified without a DNA test. Do you have any idea what you did to me?” She was shouting. “I died that day. My heart was carved out of my fucking chest. You took my arms, and both my legs. I’ve been nothing and felt nothing since your funeral. It was agony for you? You were frantic? You selfish piece of shit.”
“Harps,” Ollie choked, reaching out.
“Save it,” she withered. Her brother was alive, her life had been flipped upside down—and it was only Monday. She couldn’t deal with this. Not in front of others. Rogue Ryker was here, too. He’d witnessed enough of her humiliation today.
“What we do then?” She paced the room in a desperate attempt to regain her self-control. The explosion would come as soon as she was alone. It was inevitable.
“You believe me?” Oliver was astounded.
She stopped pacing and regarded him with disdain. “No, twin brother. I don’t believe anything you’ve said, other than to believe you believe it. What I know is that to see you, I threw away any chance of returning to blockhouse.”
“How sad,” one of the women simpered.
“Shut it, Malibu Barbie.”
She ignored the hilarity on Ryker’s face, facing Oliver once more. “I’m here to stay now, whether I believe a word coming out of your mouth or not.”
“Harps, I’ve never lied to you in my life,” he protested.
“How long did it take you to believe the rogues were being hunted to extinction?” Harper narrowed her eyes on her twin. She could never hate him, but she was as close as she’d ever come.
Shame lit his gaze. He didn’t answer.
“Months, brother. I seem to recall you saying ‘months.’ If that wasn’t lying, I don’t know what is.”
She pivot
ed in the silence of the room and marched to stand before the rogue.
“Show me to where I’ll be sleeping.”
Ryker’s eyes slid to her brother’s over her head. Harper raised her arm and snapped her fingers in front of the scum’s face. Or not scum. She didn’t know anymore. Harper was floundering. She never floundered. To cap her humiliation off, instead of showing irritation at her impetuous finger-snapping, the rogue, instrumental in sealing her fate, stared down at her with something akin to pity.
“My sleeping quarters, rogue,” she said. Danger in every syllable. “Now.”
Oliver spluttered behind her and she expected Ryker to refuse her exit. But then he did something unexpected.
He stepped aside and swung the door open. Tilting his head to one side, he spoke, eyes gleaming. “After you, translucent.”
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—ABOUT THE AUTHOR—
When Kelly St. Clare is not reading or writing, she is lost in her latest reverie. Books have always been magical and mysterious to her. One day she decided to start unravelling this mystery and began writing.
The Tainted Accords is her debut series and her second series, The After Trilogy, is now available.
A New Zealander in origin and in heart, Kelly currently resides in Australia with her husband, a great group of friends, and some huntsman spiders who love to come inside when it rains. Their love is not returned.
TASTE
Derek Murphy
Chapter One
I was going to be late. Again.
It’s usually no big deal, but with Festival tonight Mom would want me home to prepare. Of course she doesn’t know how far I really need to go to get meat these days, she thinks I stay within the compound and wait for a really stupid bird or squirrel to wander in. That hasn’t happened for months.
She’d freak if she knew I was sneaking over the perimeter fence. Climbing up a tree that’s become taller than it should, shuffling out to the tip of a long branch and leaping far enough to clear the barbed wire. I almost broke my ankle the first time I tried it, but have since made a discreet pile of leaves to break my fall.
That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction Page 34
