The Stolen Sky (Split City Book 2)

by Heather Hansen

  If Arden had broken a bone, he would have been in trouble. Dade had no knowledge of how to set the fracture before calibrating the med pod, connecting the med wire, and injecting the appropriate number of nanites to speed the process. A scan and pain management, he could do.

  He checked Arden’s vitals. Her blood count was low. The red numbers blinked in warning. He knew they didn’t have the time, nor he the expertise, to perform a transfusion. Dade doubted the boy knew how to administer one either. The best he could do was patch her up and trust the scan when it said she had no internal injuries.

  “Open the med pod, we need to stop the bleeding,” Dade said. Quick-seal wasn’t going to cut it. But first he was worried about her pain level. “I need a pain blocker and an antibiotic.”

  With the hand that wasn’t holding the phaser, he opened drawer after drawer. He looked through their contents quickly, throwing anything interesting onto the counter.

  “Hey,” the boy protested.

  There. Dade grabbed a little white packet. He was already ripping the seal with his teeth as he made his way over to Arden. A strong alcohol smell singed Dade’s nostrils. He slapped the anesthesia patch onto her neck, making her moan, but her eyes didn’t open.

  Then Dade picked up the suture gun loaded with cryo-staples. He knew from personal experience that they would go in with an ice-cold bite, delivering nanotech to her bloodstream to speed healing, then would melt into her body after her skin had enough time to knit together. He handed the suture gun over to the boy, instructing, “Staple her up.”

  The suture gun shook in the boy’s hands. “I’ve never used one of these.”

  “Have you watched the doctor use it?”

  The boy licked his lips. “Yes.”

  “Then it’ll be fine.” Dade hadn’t ever used one either. His experience had been on the receiving end while he’d been in pain. He figured the boy would know how to use it better than he did.

  Dade turned back to the drawers, looking for antibiotics and more pain blockers. He gathered up his loot, also snagging blood meds to speed up her body’s regeneration and hopefully help with his fingers. It had to be enough.

  The boy had finished by the time Dade turned back. He’d squeezed Arden’s wound so that the edges came together, and then pressed the end of the suture gun against her skin. It wouldn’t heal straight, but Dade was pretty sure Arden wouldn’t mind a mean-looking scar.

  Dade pointed his phaser directly at the boy. He needed to tie him up before he and Arden made their escape, and leave the credits he’d promised. “We’re going to need some scrubs. And the keys to your vehicle.”

  The boy gulped and nodded.

  “Thank you for your help,” Dade said sincerely.

  There was still the better part of the night left ahead of him. Thankfully, Arden was now unconscious. He had to find somewhere safe for them to hide. It was going to be a long few hours.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Arden licked her lips, trying to ease the dryness. She reached for the glass of water Dade left on the dresser beside the bed each morning. Her side tweaked at the movement, sending fiery tendrils shooting through her body as her skin pulled taut against the slow-healing wound. She swallowed back the pain and the hiss that wanted to escape.

  They’d holed up in a low-end boardinghouse. Like so many other rooms in the city, it had no window, leaving her blanketed by darkness and the ever-present dust that overran this hole. It wasn’t located very far from where the joint refinery had stood before it had been blown to bits. Arden had no recollection of how Dade had gotten her here. He didn’t want to tell her particulars and seemed nervous that he might have been seen.

  She’d been feverish for days. Time had slipped by. She honestly couldn’t pinpoint how long they’d been there. All she was certain of was that she’d been awake and aware for the last five days. She was slowly getting better too. When she’d first woken, it had been difficult to move. But by now, she’d managed to get herself to the bathroom on her own, and she could stand steadily for an hour at a time.

  Creatures scurried on the other side of the room. Their yellow-tipped claws clacked against the floor and their red eyes reflected in the dull glow of the lamp. Every once in a while, she’d catch the flash of their iridescent scales and tusked teeth as they braved their way closer to her.

  Stupid vermin. Hunting them from her spot on the bed helped to fill her day. Patiently waiting until she got a clear shot with her phaser. It even kept the dwindling credit supply from disappearing completely when she cooked the little animals for dinner. They weren’t the tastiest things, a bit gristly to be honest. But she’d had worse.

  While shooting things was awesome, Arden would have preferred instead to be wherever Dade was. Boredom gnawed at her most days. She hated that she was confined to the room. Even though she felt better, her stamina still wasn’t at its optimum level. If she left the boardinghouse, she had to be sure she could escape from danger.

  She spent most of her time stewing with anger. Being physically weak didn’t help her overall mood. Inactivity was the antithesis of who she was. She hated it. Hated being here, hated everything that had forced them into this stupid, stupid place.

  Before this nightmare had unfolded, she’d questioned her life’s choices. Now she wasn’t sure whether she’d gotten herself into even more trouble. Her brother, Niall, had come up with the bright idea of pissing off the Solizen by attacking their joint refinery. This left the city and her in a deep well of crap. They’d taken out the only VitD manufacturing plant. This meant that not only did they condemn the entire population of the city to Violet Death, unless another source of the drug could be found, but Arden had also been hurt and left without her gang.

  Someone moved outside the door. She tensed like she always did, waiting for whoever it was to continue on. When they didn’t this time, the shadow at the door shifting, Arden glanced at the clock. It was too early for Dade. She didn’t expect him back for at least another two hours.

  Beeping, the entry scanner pinged. The sound blasted the stillness, each discordant number ratcheting up her blood pressure.

  Adrenaline rushed through her, heating her blood with taut anticipation. Her heartbeat sped while her body went loose as satisfaction thrummed. Maybe today she’d prove she wasn’t totally useless.

  She raised the phaser, pointing the muzzle at the thin particleboard that separated the room from the hallway. She thought she heard the sound of another person breathing, panting softly. But maybe it was her own breath stuttering out as her excitement grew. She leaned forward to aim, ignoring protestations from her battered body. Pain would not steal her focus.

  Whoever it was on the other side of the door entered the key code, and the door slowly opened. She waited. The door’s movement synced with the beat of her heart. One heartbeat . . . two . . . She could almost see the figure that stood in the shadowed doorway.

  She tucked her phaser close, using her other hand to grip the barrel. Squinting, she sighted the target. Wait, breathe—she exhaled her coiling excitement, calming her thoughts. Her finger tightened on the trigger, not quite squeezing.

  The figure cleared the doorway.

  “Stop right there.” Arden wasn’t messing around.

  The shadow jolted. Yet he ignored her warning and took another step into the light, holding up his hands.

  “It’s me.” The sides of Dade’s lips kicked up with obvious amusement.

  “Moons,” Arden swore. “Did you want me to shoot you?”

  Exasperated, she set the phaser down on the nightstand. She wanted to yell at him to take it seriously when someone aimed a phaser at his chest. When she aimed a phaser at him. Because truth be told, she was irritated enough right then to shoot him anyway. Arden had a reputation she was proud of, and it had been well earned. She’d been in the top tier of command in her gang, a spot she had not earned through nepotism but by proving her ability to be ruthless. If she had to kill someone, she would. Thou
gh she tried to have good reason if killing became necessary.

  Yet she’d never successfully intimidated Dade and doubted she ever would. He saw only the good side of her, the kindness that sometimes she thought she’d lost.

  Arden sighed. She loved that, even if it was dangerous. Vulnerability could be useful, but it could also turn you into prey instead of predator. It was a fine line to straddle.

  Dade put down his hands as he walked closer, but his grin didn’t fall away. Instead, it became soft as his gaze assessed her. “I thought you’d be asleep. Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, though she wasn’t. She fell back onto the mildewed bedcovers, worn out by expending energy she didn’t have. Her body ached and groaned. She fought not to grimace, without any luck.

  “You need to sleep more if you want to heal.”

  Arden grunted. She didn’t want to talk any more about her pain levels or how she feared that the wound on her side wasn’t healing correctly. Or how she knew that she needed another session or two in a med pod.

  The last thing she wanted to do was add to his concern with her own. Knowing she was worried too would only burden him. And there was not a damned thing either one of them could do about it. Dade’s taking her to the med clinic in the first place had been risky enough. By now the city would be alerted to search for anyone who might have escaped the pandemonium. Walking in with her injuries was a surefire way to call attention to themselves. Besides, they didn’t have many credits left, so they’d have to get medical attention by force. For that she would need to help him.

  Arden took comfort in the fact that she should be up to it soon. After all, she was already walking. Plus, her injury didn’t lessen her ability to hit a target. As soon as she could run and knew she’d be able to hold up her end of the escape, she’d ask him to break into a clinic so she could shake the last of this injury.

  “If you’re in pain, I can find something to help,” he offered.

  It meant that he’d have to leave again, which was the opposite of what she wanted. She craved the feel of him next to her. His warm, solid body reminding her that she was still alive. Giving her some of the hope that had dwindled a little more as each day passed.

  Still, she refused to voice that need. The vulnerability embarrassed her. Besides, if he left, it wasn’t likely that he’d be successful in procuring pain meds anyway.

  “Why are you back so early?” she asked instead.

  Not that he had a specific schedule. It was just that she was aware of every moment he was gone, alert in case something happened. And there was the ever-present knowledge that she should be with him, watching his back.

  Dade grunted but ignored the question. Instead, he took off his cloak and began to strip his weapons.

  They’d been doing that a lot lately—avoiding real discussions. They danced around each other, never shared their true thoughts. Each worried that their fears would burden the other. It was silly, because they both understood what was happening. Arden hated it, but she didn’t know how to fix the problem. Not without being honest about her own feelings, both to herself and to Dade.

  And that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

  Dade stepped near to where she lay on the bed, allowing her to see him closely. Bruises littered his face. His lip was split and bleeding. And a dark patch shadowed his left eye, looking as if it would continue to blacken.

  Arden sucked in a breath and then let out a low growl. “What happened?”

  He placed the back of his hand on her forehead. “You’re still burning up.”

  Oh no. They wouldn’t be focusing on her. Not tonight.

  She pushed his hand away. They’d been working up to this confrontation. Every day he’d come in looking a little bit worse, but never this bad. Her capacity for sniffing out trouble hadn’t been compromised.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said. This time it was a demand.

  “It looks worse than it is.” He stuck out his tongue to test his swollen, split lip.

  She didn’t care for his deflection. “Stop it. Tell me the truth.”

  Dade sighed. His eyes became soft and pleading. “Don’t give me crap, okay? I feel awful enough as it is.”

  “Then tell me what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  “I was fighting.”

  “Obviously.” She tried to keep control of her temper. Though he’d damaged his gorgeous face, she knew the injuries weren’t serious. He didn’t appear to have broken bones. Well, beyond the fingers that had been broken weeks ago. They’d been on the mend, but now she wondered if he’d reinjured them. “You know, you’re not all that pretty right now.”

  “Are you saying I look tough?” He gave her a goofy grin, and then winced when it made his lip bleed.

  Arden snorted. “As tough as a street thug.”

  “You like street thugs.”

  She shook her head. “I like you.” Which was why she didn’t want him hurt.

  The two of them were a pair of pummeled messes.

  Arden sat up, groaning as she moved to get out of bed. She hadn’t managed to get her legs untangled from the bedding before he gently pressed her back into the pillows.

  “No, stay there. I’ll tell you everything, just let me clean up a bit first, okay?”

  “Like I can go anywhere.” She didn’t want to wait. Wanted to interrogate him for answers. But if he was finally agreeing to talk to her, she figured she could afford a little patience, as much as she could spare anyway.

  Dade picked up their wash basket with their soap and a towel. They had to use a communal bathroom down the hall. It was as disgusting as the rest of the place, but at least it had running water.

  “I’ll be right back.” He locked the door when he left.

  Arden leaned back into the pillows, closing her eyes. The hovel they were staying in had once been a private residence that now took on boarders. The walls were so thin, she could hear conversations from the surrounding rooms.

  They would have to move soon. They’d stayed here too long. Too many had already marked their presence. She worried about finding another place, though. As crappy as this room was, the next place would likely be worse. There weren’t many places to stay in the Levels, which meant they’d have to travel into Undercity.

  The city was tiered. At ground level was Undercity, where Arden had been born and where if the government had its way, she should have stayed for the entirety of her life, as Undercity was enclosed and people weren’t allowed to leave. Through Arden’s former association with her gang—whom she still considered family even if they had turned against her—she knew the passages into Above.

  On top of Undercity were the Levels, where they were currently. It was a dark and windy place. The cold here could flash freeze, and the population struggled for survival. The Levels were below the static cloud that cut them off from the sky.

  Originally, the miners who ran the machinery during the terraforming had set up base in Undercity on the crust of the planet. The Levels had been built for those seeking to colonize. But there was too much fighting for too little space. And so, the dome had been bricked between them.

  Soaring above them all were the Sky Towers. The Solizen who lived in the Towers were the original benefactors of the mining colony. They’d held the money and power when the city had been built. And they still maintained that stranglehold over the citizens.

  Dade looked fresher when he stepped back into the room. His wounds still appeared red and angry, but the smudges of dirt and sweat had been cleaned away. He walked across the small space, shedding his tunic and slipping off his boots as he did so.

  Then he slid into the bed next to her. His movements were careful, and that slow, deliberate calculation drove her crazy. He constantly checked himself so that he didn’t hurt her. There wasn’t any need for that. She wasn’t breakable.

  Arden leaned against him. Her eyelids slid closed as she felt grounded for the first time that night. She f
ound comfort in his soapy smell, the strength of his body, and his solid heat. He promised a place to rest, and she was so, so tired. She wanted this moment to last as long as possible.

  Dade tucked his arm behind her to pull her closer. His leaned his face into her hair, and he rested his lips there, breathing in and letting the silence of the moment stretch. His other hand came up to play with the golden-brown hair curling over the side of her face. Then he pushed the thick mass behind her shoulder and slid his palm to her cheek. His thumb caressed her skin.

  They hadn’t gone beyond this careful cuddling since the night of the battle between the govies, the Solizen, and the city gangs over the destruction of the joint refinery. They hadn’t kissed—not in any deep meaningful way that made her toes curl. Arden thought that maybe he felt guilty she’d been hurt. Not that he said as much, but the hints that he’d dropped had all pointed to that being the case.

  His guilt frustrated her. Dade hadn’t even been there when the battle had started. He couldn’t have stopped it from happening if he had been. If anything, she was the one who should have figured out a way to stop it. And yet, Arden hadn’t even been able to dissuade her brother even though she’d tried.

  “When I wanted to leave my family, this is not how I pictured we’d end up,” Dade said, breaking the silence.

  She hadn’t either. Her life was dramatically different now. She’d walked away from her family too. Her parents were probably wondering where she and her brother were. At this point she didn’t know what had become of her brother either, if he was still alive. She didn’t even know if he was still in charge of the Lasair. It was hard for her to think about who’d survived and who hadn’t.

  There was no way for her to go back. Arden could still picture Uri’s face when he realized that she had betrayed them for Dade, a Solizen. He’d looked so angry. Her stomach squeezed, replaying it over and over, and she kept hearing the venom in his voice when he’d banished her.

  Arden kissed his shoulder. “We have to give it time.”