Sparrows & Sacrifice

by Nellie K Neves

  Tufts of hair tumbled to the ground, thick and soft. I grounded myself with my hand on his bare shoulder, afraid the clippers might swerve or slip if I let go. Or maybe that was my excuse. If possession was nine-tenths of the law and he was unattached, or at least less attached to Vanessa, maybe my hand was staking a claim. As my fingers pressed into the muscles at his collarbone, I admitted for one second that yes, that was the message I was sending.

  Mine.

  All mine.

  I rationalized away the romance, it wasn't about that. It was about safety. He was mine, and I was his because we were partners in a strange place. I couldn’t leave him behind. I couldn’t abandon him.

  I moved to the right side and blended the two lengths the best I could. I hated to see it fall to the ground. Some of it belonged to me. I remembered the way it felt in my grasp on the bluff months before. It had slipped against the sensitive skin between my fingers like soft grass in the springtime. When his lips had pulled emotion from me that I’d long since buried, it was the length of his hair that I’d gripped to steady my world.

  I ran my free hand over the shorter length as if to judge my work or, rather, how much I’d lost. Not enough to hang on to, they’d taken that from me. Ryder kept his eyes forward like a good soldier. Raife's gun helped him to remember. No, he wouldn't shoot him, but his face still held the bruises from the last time he’d met the base of the weapon.

  I switched hands and moved to his left side. My free hand slid over his shoulder-blades. Discipline kept his shiver minimal, but I still felt it.

  Raife’s frustration shredded his voice as he barked the command, “Shave it all!”

  “You said he could keep the style, but not the length.”

  My tone wasn’t what it should have been, and I expected to feel the punishment for my insubordination in response. Instead, Raife turned on his heel and started for the cabins. He paused to call over his shoulder, “Five minutes.”

  The “or else” was implied.

  I sounded like a deflating balloon as Raife moved away, my breath rushing out of me as relief seeped in. Still, Ryder remained motionless with his eyes planted on the horizon. I wondered how much they’d changed him. Beyond the gunfire I heard, and the bruises he wore, I had no indication of what actually happened on his side of the camp. Had they broken him? Had they brainwashed him beyond my reach?

  A tug anchored my skirt. I glanced down, almost expecting Moonlight to be there, but instead I found Ryder's hand. His fingers tangled up in the fabric of my clothes. Knowing we’d both be punished for such a breach, I stepped forward and angled my body to block his arm. Pressure increased at my knee. Warmth from his palm bled through the fabric. His eyes remained forward. They had his obedience, but I knew everything else belonged to me.

  Knowing my time grew short, I moved in front of him, splitting his fixated gaze in two. The feather woven between his fingers caught my eye. I bent low as if to check that the sides were even, but in reality I needed to look into his eyes.

  Deep, dark and mine.

  His whisper didn’t create a single ripple in his lips.

  “Hey there, Huckleberry.”

  I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling at him.

  A rough impact at my waist threw me down into the dust and gravel. My face smacked hard. I yelped as pain took hold again. I shook my head to clear the fog and pushed up to my hands and knees.

  Raife had returned. I knew Ryder couldn't call after me. He couldn't even turn his head, but still I heard the shouting he couldn’t speak. I felt the concern and desperation to help me, even if he couldn’t move an inch. They had to think they’d broken him. They had to think they were in control.

  Even if they weren't.

  “Five minutes are up. Stop trying to pollute his mind!”

  I knew Raife’s voice. I knew the pain he inflicted without seeing his face. I wanted to jump to my feet and crack my elbow across his nose, slam his face into my knee, and hear something break under the pressure.

  I hated him.

  I hated what he had done to us and the regime he ran. But it wasn’t time for retaliation, it was time for integration, and women didn’t fight back in his world. I kept my head down and cowered even while violent acts of revenge played out in my mind.

  “Pour some water over yourself to clean up.” Raife instructed Ryder as if I wasn’t there. “Report to the south gate for your shift.”

  I dared not move while their footsteps crunched against the gravel. Ryder probably looked back, at least once. He probably hid it by surveying the camp like a good soldier. They thought they had him and that was what mattered. The warmth of his touch still glowed on my skin.

  They didn’t have him.

  He was mine.

  And I would always be his.

  I pushed myself to my feet, dusting off my skirt and trying to look girlishly worried about my appearance, but I had another plan. I spun as if to inspect my skirt and looked up at the main house. There in the window was a woman, sandy blonde hair, green eyes, and an expression of suspicion I knew she’d learned from her father.

  I’d found Tasha Saunders.

  Chapter 21

  Finding Tasha gave me renewed purpose. I no longer fumbled in the dark, groping for answers. I needed to rescue her, but would she come willingly? Talking to her had to be the first step, but the three women who lived in the house never came out. After some careful prodding at dinner, I learned their names: Sky, Lavender, and Coral.

  Coral had moved into Cyrus’ house a year and a half before. Her mate was killed on a training exercise. Harmony made it sound like a freak accident, but the look on Genesis’ face told me she had suspicions. Lavender had been added next; her mate had never claimed her, and Fern said it was out of pure benevolence that Cyrus was willing to rescue her. I wanted to ask what she was rescued from exactly, but I had a feeling it was the pit. It was always the pit. The man who hadn’t claimed Lavender died that winter. Harmony shrugged it off as part of life.

  “His cold worsened and one day he didn’t wake up.”

  “What about Sky?” I peeked over my shoulder to see if Raife was still busy with the next round of guards.

  My three comrades clammed up.

  Genesis leaned forward, as if to pull a roll from the bowl and said, “All we know is that Rico disappeared without a trace after one of the training missions in town. Liam said he ran, but I don’t think he’s telling the truth.”

  Fern jumped to Cyrus’ defense. “The point is that he is gone, and Sky is well taken care of in the house. You know any one of us would happily serve Cyrus in the main house.”

  I wasn’t so sure she was right. They nodded, but I saw the doubt in Genesis’ eyes.

  “What do they do up there?” I faced my plate of steamed broccoli and plain brown rice to hide my lips.

  Harmony glanced at the guards before she blurted out, “No one knows.”

  “Harmony.” Fern scolded her like a child.

  “I’m sure it’s all normal,” Genesis said. “Cyrus is older. He needs help maintaining the house and—”

  “Are they his wives?”

  Fern’s bread caught in her throat. Harmony thumped her back as she wheezed. Genesis stared at me as if she couldn’t decide if I was an idiot or a demon.

  Raife’s attention peaked. Harmony gathered our plates and rushed red faced from the table. Before the guard closed the distance, Genesis spoke, “No, not wives, helpers. He has one wife and until she’s gone, he won’t take another.”

  Gaining her composure, Fern reiterated her truth, “They’re lucky to have been chosen.”

  Even as I stared across our sagging plywood table at her, I felt certain she’d said it more for herself than for me.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Four days passed before I heard Ryder’s voice again. Early in the morning, as we were still dressing for the day, gravel crunched outside our door. I assumed Raife was conducting a surprise inspection of the c
abin. He’d tried to catch me twice in the last week, but a woman named Cricket had been punished twice for her messy bed while I went free.

  The knock was softer than Raife’s, less insistent.

  “I’m here for Sparrow.”

  The other women’s faces betrayed their alarm. My heart quickened at the implications. I smoothed my blanket and tucked my nightdress under the wool stack at the end.

  “Hurry,” Harmony hissed, “don’t make him wait.”

  I almost laughed. In the outside world, it was not only customary for the man to wait on the woman, it was expected.

  Fern pulled the door open far enough for me to exit, but not so far as to expose the secrets within. Ryder’s bruises had faded to faint memories on his jaw. He wore one of his long-sleeve shirts. I wondered if he’d been allotted more than one outfit.

  A second man I didn’t recognize stood at Ryder’s side, a shotgun in his grasp. Two drones going about Cyrus’ work.

  “Your help is required to complete a chore. You’ll accompany us now.” Ryder’s stoic voice prickled my skin. I met his eye but saw none of the familiarity from before. Had they discovered his secret? Did they finally break him?

  “Brother Ryder tells us you are an accomplished fisherman. Is that true?” The second man addressed me while motioning to the path we should follow.

  I’d gone fishing with my father when I was young, sure, but it wasn’t like I could pluck fish out of a stream. I instantly regretted turning down all of my Uncle Shane’s invitations to go fishing. But what I lacked in fishing skills, I made up for in lying. Special skills meant more freedom at Eden’s Haven.

  “Yes. I’m very good at fishing.” I glanced at Ryder for his approval or condemnation, but I found only that infuriating blank expression.

  Ryder’s tone chilled me as he spoke, “Then start walking.”

  Light rain pattered over us as we walked down the path I rarely frequented. Ryder’s rifle shifted in his grasp. Willow stood out on her porch, as if she sensed we were coming. Her long silver hair caught the breeze. The oldest member of Eden’s Haven didn’t raise her hand in greeting. Instead, she averted her eyes and slipped inside her cabin.

  As we entered the trees, the breeze shook the branches overhead and a few droplets cascaded down my cheeks, cold against the rosy glow. Sounds of birds filtered from the underbrush. Other creatures rifled around in search of food.

  Food.

  We’d left without breakfast. Even my scarce meal was better than nothing. Fear spread inside me. Was Ryder strong enough to resist their tactics? He’d held on before, but was he still there? Or was I wandering off for some crazy ritual in the woods? My skin prickled with anxiety and fear. I rubbed my palms over my arms for a moment to dispel the discomfort.

  “Ryder, I’ll leave you here.” The second man’s voice caused Ryder to stop. Out of obedience, I stopped as well, but I didn’t turn even as the second man continued to speak. “I’ve still got to circle back. I’m headed north.”

  “I’ll meet you back here when it’s done,” Ryder said.

  Footsteps moved away from us, and I held deathly still, unsure of what came next.

  “Keep walking.” Ryder’s fingers jabbed my shoulder.

  I feared the worst. A clandestine act waited at the end of the trail. I wanted no part of it. What had he meant when he’d said, “When it’s done?”

  When what was done?

  My mind scoured every possible outcome. The creek’s gurgling grew louder with every step. It was possible we were fishing, but why bring me? Why not go on his own?

  The truth dawned on me in an instant as I saw the large pond ahead of me. He’d told them my fear and he meant to exploit it. It had to be some fear ritual, some torture meant to push me beyond my threshold. Raife or Cyrus had put him up to it, the last test to prove his allegiance to them. My pace slowed as the pond neared. I didn’t care how clear the water was or how beautiful the flowers were, I wasn’t getting in.

  “Stop here,” he said, his deep voice strong and forceful.

  I did as he asked, happy to keep distance from the water I feared. Crazy thoughts flowed through my mind.

  Maybe I could hit him, run as fast as I could.

  Where would I go?

  Maybe I could try to undo the tangled mess of his mind.

  He loved me once; maybe he could remember and love me again.

  The butt of his rifle connected with the earth. Then the muzzle as he released his grip entirely. The poles dropped next and my heart leapt into my throat. Still, I dared not turn around for fear of his plan, for fear of what I’d see. A surge of energy lit up my left side as his hand slipped between my arm and my stomach, wrapping around, encircling me completely.

  His head dropped to my shoulder. His body shook with a shuddering gasp before he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Lindy. Please forgive me.”

  I stiffened, but his arms urged me to face him. I saw him once more, aware and alert. It was still an act, Ryder was still in control. My hands slipped over his collarbone and wound around his neck as if to test the space. He pulled me close with fervid urgency, face buried in my neck as if I were his only chance for survival.

  Maybe I was.

  “I’m sorry. I had to be careful. The patrols go out pretty far. If they saw me treat you like this,” his hot breath exploded against my neck, “they’d kill us both.”

  My fingers slipped into his hair, short and still sharp from the blade I’d used. “I’m okay,” I assured him, ashamed at my own fears I’d given into moments before. Why had I doubted him? Why did I think he could hurt me? The answer lingered in the darkest corner of my mind.

  Because Dallas did. Because I never saw it coming.

  I hadn’t thought of him over the past two weeks. New threats distracted me from the old. No, it was more than that. Something about Ryder holding me in his arms triggered the thoughts.

  Ryder felt the change in me and pulled back to examine my expression.

  “Are you okay?”

  How could I explain to him what I was feeling? How could I tell him that every time he held me I thought of Dallas instead? Were they destined to be intertwined forever? The net felt more impossibly snarled than ever before.

  Ryder knew. I don’t know how he knew, but saw the secrets written on my face. Bitterness pulled at his features as he let the space fall back between us. Everything had changed while we’d been at Eden’s Haven, and yet nothing had changed at all.

  “Come on,” his fingers traced the length of my arm to my hand, “we need to talk.”

  Chapter 22

  He led me past the pond, to a thicker section of the stream where the water quickened and deepened. I tightened my grip on his hand, not because I was afraid or needed the support, but because I needed him to know that despite my issues I was happy to be there with him. I was happy that he was intact.

  “That was Gabe. This was his idea, at least the part he knows about.” Ryder led me across a fallen log that spanned the water, looking back once to see that I’d found my footing, but never letting go of my hand. “They’re not all like Cyrus, Thomas, or Raife. Some of them are good people. They came here because they care about the environment, but once you’re in, you can’t leave.”

  It reminded me of the time my father had set up a trap in the attic for a raccoon that had decided grandma’s box of old dresses made a good den. He’d set a large trap with something glittery set at the back. Unable to resist the appeal, the raccoon had ventured to the back and triggered the mechanism that slammed the trap shut. We relocated the raccoon Eleanor and I had named Roscoe to a local park and that was that. The trap at Eden’s Haven was similar, but far more sinister.

  The options were simple— stay in the trap or die.

  “Gabe came in with Harmony. They were engaged. He was working as an environmental engineer when Cyrus approached him.”

  I let Ryder balance my weight as I stepped off the log, the earth soft and springy beneath my step
. “Wait, Cyrus came to him?”

  Ryder led me downstream, fingers still tangled up in mine. “I guess it wasn’t always like this. Back in the beginning, there was more focus on the environmental aspects. Gabe designed the solar system that powers the house. Originally, he’d planned systems for each of the cabins as well. Liam was brought in because of his construction expertise. He built everything, except for the main house. He wanted a better place to raise his kids.”

  “His wife is Genesis,” I said, hopeful I could add something to the conversation.

  “Her real name is Carly. She was a university professor. Harmony used to work as a chef in a five-star restaurant in Los Angeles.”

  “You all talk a lot more than we do.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, sadness pulled at his eyes. “We have freedoms you don’t.” The silent apology threaded through his tone.

  “If it used to be some great environmental utopia, what changed?”

  Ryder stopped near a log and sank down, our hands breaking apart for the first time. He rubbed his palms over his face while I took a spot near him.

  “That’s where the stories get messy. Liam says the money ran out and Cyrus got frantic. They’d all relinquished control of their accounts when they joined. Liam said he and Carly had saved nearly fifty thousand dollars for their children’s education, but it was gone.” His hands fell away from his face. “Gabe said it had something to do with a death in Cyrus’ life. He had a son who was killed, a bystander in an armed robbery. The cops thought they had all the hostages, but Cyrus’ son had been in the bathroom and walked out at the wrong moment.” Ryder shook his head. “No one knows which side killed him, but everything changed after that.”

  Everyone has a breaking point. For people with biologically psychotic brains, the breaking point meant danger for anyone they came in contact with.

  “I saw Tasha,” I said after a moment, the stillness too much to bear. “Up at the house, she was in the window.”