by V. St. Clair
“Thirty-five year old female, in good health—aside from being dead,” the coroner amended with a grimace. “Cause of death is pretty straight-forward, as her throat was cut from end-to-end and she bled out before she was found and the authorities were notified.”
“Anything obvious that would connect her to the other victims?”
“Nothing I can see, but I understand the Minors are searching all of the victims’ backgrounds for any commonality.”
Topher keyed in the woman’s biochip information and pulled up her file while the coroner spoke, scrolling through the file of her life for anything noteworthy.
“She was a florist,” he commented aloud, though he had no idea why this was surprising to him. “Her Gift involved making flowers bloom.”
“Yes,” the coroner joined him at the display. “I’m told she had one of the best shops in all of Silveria, due to her Gift. She was the manager there. I have no idea what will happen to it now, or if her husband will continue running it without her.”
She had a husband, and two children…Topher continued reading the summary, saddened by the knowledge that she had left a family behind. If there was anything Topher could relate to, it was the feeling of being a young child who had just learned one of his parents was never coming home.
He took a breath to steady himself, still feeling cold and shaken by the vision he experienced.
“Such a benign Gift,” he said quietly.
“I know,” the coroner seemed to understand what he was getting at. “The bodies I see that were war criminals, or who have Gifts that could blow up a city block—I don’t feel as bad about seeing them fall. But all she did was make flowers grow…”
Topher blinked, surprised by the sentiment, and said, “What can you tell me about the murder weapon?”
“Nothing helpful, I’m afraid.” She sounded regretful. “It was sharp, and not serrated. I found trace elements in the wound, but it is consistent with any number of common blades on the market right now.”
Topher nodded and said, “Thank you. I’ll leave you to your work. Please notify me if you find anything noteworthy.”
“Will do.”
He couldn’t leave Autopsy fast enough. Even the warmer air at the exit did nothing to make him feel better. He walked purposefully back towards the elevators, ignoring everyone he passed and making eye contact with no one, trying to appear in control until he returned to the safety of his room and was able to shed his armor and change clothing.
His pants and shirt were soaked with sweat, and upon reflection, he was parched. Grimacing at how hard Jessamine was going to yell at him when he told her what he did, he stripped out of his wet clothing and took a hot shower, determined to regain control of himself.
The hot water did seem to melt away his unsteadiness, and after he dressed and consumed a large amount of water, he felt slightly more like himself.
Except now I’m alone with my thoughts.
Not for long, as luck would have it. A sharp knock on the door brought him almost immediately to his feet, wondering who would be visiting when he was still supposed to be on duty.
It was Reya.
“What do you want?” he greeted her with a groan.
“To know what the hell you’re doing in your room—and out of uniform—when you are scheduled to work for another three hours.”
Topher raised an eyebrow.
“Are you tailing me? Why are you so concerned about my whereabouts?”
Reya glanced around to the closed doors on either side of her and said, “Let me in; I don’t do hallway conversations.”
She brushed past him and he sighed and shut the door behind her, wondering why friends always had to show up when he was trying to brood on his own.
“Well?” Topher asked, leaning against the wall while she sat on the edge of his bed.
“General Assembly was looking for you. They said they called you a bunch of times but you never answered. Lucky me, I happened to be the first one they saw who isn’t put off by your brooding face and was willing to call you, except you didn’t answer me, either. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Topher frowned and went to check his communicator. It showed at least seventeen missed calls and notifications, though he hadn’t remembered hearing any of them.
“Oh, I must have accidentally hit the ‘suppress’ button when I—” he was about to say, “when I fell over in Autopsy” but changed it to, “when I was in my last meeting.”
The look on Reya’s face clearly called his bluff, but all she said was, “If you say so.”
“What does the General Assembly want with me?”
“No idea; I wasn’t really listening to their rambling. Anyway, why are you in here relaxing when you’re supposed to be on duty? It’s not like you to skip out.”
“You’re nosy.”
“Yeah, I know,” she agreed cheerfully.
“I was feeling unwell, so I came back to my room to shower and change clothing. I was preparing to go back outside and finish my shift when you knocked.”
Reya looked like she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not.
“You’re not often ill, and when you are, you never let it stop you. You do look kind of wrung out though.”
“Thanks,” he said flatly.
“I know Jessamine’s wedding is very soon, and that’s probably not helping anything, but I’ve been worried about you ever since you wigged out on us at your mother’s house and then cancelled the ambulance.”
“Your concern touches the very core of me,” he said with deadpan seriousness, causing her to bark out an unexpected laugh.
“Seriously though, is there something going on with your head?” she demanded, not breaking eye contact.
This must be why I avoided having friends for so long. They’re damned inconvenient…
“Yes,” he admitted after a long moment of silence.
Reya raised her eyebrows, looking truly concerned when she said, “Does Jessamine know?”
“Yes.”
“Well, good, then I don’t feel compelled to report you to a higher authority. I don’t suppose it’s something you think your friends and allies should know about?”
“Not really,” he confirmed.
“Hmm.” She pursed her lips at him. “Does it affect your ability to do your job?”
“I don’t think so. Jessamine doesn’t think so,” he added. “If anything, it could be an asset.”
“Then I’ll say no more about it, except to remind you that Jessamine is not the only person in this compound you can rely on or confide in.”
“Are you going to tell Gareth?” Topher asked, strangely touched by her words.
“Of course. Unlike you, I don’t isolate myself from my allies. He’ll keep his mouth shut though, don’t worry.”
Topher groaned as another knock came at the door. Reya immediately tensed for a fight and reached for her knife.
“Expecting anyone else?”
“I wasn’t even expecting you.” Topher rose to his feet and went to answer the door, looking through the viewing window and stunned to see Kristoff on the other side.
“What the hell is Kristoff doing here?” he asked quietly. Reya didn’t lower her knife.
He positioned himself to avoid putting any critical organs in the line of fire, in case Kristoff was here to fight, and opened the door. In all the time he lived here, Topher couldn’t remember Kristoff ever coming to his room before, though he had been acting differently since Fox and Parl were caught.
“Kristoff, what brings you here?”
“The General Assembly is looking for you. Why aren’t you in armor?”
“I just finished showering. I’ll go to the General Assembly momentarily.”
“Why were you showering in the middle of your shift?” Kristoff asked curiously, before spotting Reya behind him. “Whoa, what are you doing in there?” he asked her.
“We were having sex,” she said bluntly, unfazed. Tophe
r had no idea what expression was on his face when he turned to look at her.
Kristoff seemed faintly impressed.
“In the middle of your shift?”
“When the need strikes, you have to answer the call.” She shrugged and strode past them both, finally putting her knife away.
“Why was your knife out?” Kristoff asked suspiciously.
“Adds an element of excitement to the love-making. Anyway, you’re welcome, Topher—and you’re right, I am the best. See you both later.” She waved airily at them, walking down the hall, though Topher suspected she was keeping a careful ear out for whether she needed to come back and help fight one of their peers.
Kristoff watched her go for a moment and then said, “Huh. Good for you, Toph.” He seemed pleased by Topher slacking off to get laid in the middle of his working shift.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put my armor back on and go see what the Assembly needs so urgently.”
“Before I go, I just wanted to say something, but we’re rarely on duty together.” Kristoff looked down, shuffling a foot against the floor.
Is he embarrassed about something?
“Oh?” Topher asked, wary. Kristoff never sought his company.
“I just wanted to say, all that business with Fox and Parl…” he frowned. “I knew they didn’t like Roald going easy on the Gifted, but I didn’t know they would do what they did.”
Topher raised an eyebrow, because Kristoff had already said as much to Jessamine and Topher had no idea why he felt the need to tell him as well.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Kristoff made eye contact again, apparently heartened by Topher’s tone.
“Look, I know we haven’t been great friends in the past, but we’re all in this together. What they did—well, it shook my faith in a lot of things I understood. I just wanted you to know that I support Jessamine, and I know she confides in you more than anyone, but if there’s anything I can do to help keep her in power, let me know.”
Topher was bowled over by this and began to wonder if he had misjudged Kristoff all these years. Sure, the man was an arrogant ass, but he had been hand-picked as a Major for a reason.
“You can keep an eye on Andro for me,” Topher replied on a whim. “I don’t know if he’s involved, but he was also close with Parl and Fox, and he’s been defiant and hostile since they were killed.”
Kristoff made an unpleasant face at the thought of this, but said, “I will. We’ve been friends for years, and I haven’t heard any grumbling from him that worries me, but I’ll keep a closer watch on him.”
“Thank you.”
“And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about you and Reya.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” If every person in this building doesn’t know within the hour I’ll be shocked.
Kristoff winked at him and left.
Topher groaned at the thought of going back on duty, but it seemed no one was going to leave him alone. He pulled on his light armor, checked to make sure he looked reasonably normal, and went back to work.
17
Jessamine Elaria
Jessamine’s eyes snapped open as she lurched to consciousness, queasy and frightened. For a horrible moment she thought someone had snuck into her bedroom to attempt murder on her again, but after turning on the lights and frantically looking around, she confirmed she was alone.
Why did I wake up so suddenly?
She couldn’t remember what she had been dreaming about or if it was unpleasant, rubbing her eyes and sitting on the edge of the bed to calm herself. Her gaze locked on the silky purple dress hanging on the dress-form in her line of sight, and a sinking feeling settled in her gut.
Oh, hell. It’s today.
Nerves flooded her in a rush, and she no longer wondered why she was unable to sleep peacefully on the morning of her wedding to Darius Hamish. She glanced at the clock and noted it was still early—too early for breakfast. Unsure of what else to do and absolutely certain she wouldn’t get any more rest, she got up and dressed in her light armor, stepping out of her bedroom and heading to the elevator.
She didn’t really consider where she was going until she reached level two-eighty-one, stepping onto the landing and inhaling deeply to steel herself. The hallway was glaringly bright, sloping gently inwards, just enough to make her wonder if she was crazy or if the walls really were closing in. It was a deliberate part of the design, intended to unsettle those residing here, but it still worked on her.
Walking slowly down the hall, she stopped in front of an unlabeled door and scanned her biochip. It was the only biochip on the entire planet that currently had access to this room.
Parl grunted as he was pulled against the wall by the cuffs on his ankles and wrists, relaxing only when she shut the door behind her and greeting her with a cloudy, unfocused gaze. He was gaunt, his features hollowed by illness and injury, patchy beard stubble on his cheeks.
Jessamine calmly approached him and removed one of the Dark Talents from his enhancer, swapping it for another from the set she now carried. Parl’s expression turned to hatred, his gaze focused and sharp as he glared at her.
“Back for more?” he rasped, voice dry from thirst.
“Until you tell me the truth.” She leaned against the wall opposite him, staring down at him with disgust. “Who is working with you? Who is murdering the Gifted? Who is plotting to overthrow me?”
“Topher,” Parl snarled from the floor, bestowing a sickening smile upon her.
Jessamine sighed at what had become routine by now. Every time she asked him to name his conspirators, he always started with Topher.
As though I would ever doubt Topher.
It would be so much easier if she could use truth serum on him, but the Majors were fairly immune to it, a benefit of the Talent technology wired into their brains. She could have brought Ana up here to have a go at him, but she would have had to bring Ana in on a secret she hadn’t even trusted Topher with yet.
“I don’t know why you’re so loyal to the other traitors.” Jessamine sighed, suppressing her anger. “They certainly haven’t been loyal to you. The others are all telling anyone who will listen what scumbags you and Fox were, and how they never knew you would turn out this way.”
Parl glowered at her from the ground.
“They may say it to your face, but behind your back they are plotting ways to free me and end you.”
“They don’t even know you’re here.” Jessamine corrected bitterly. “Kessel told everyone you died. No one is looking for you.”
“Keep thinking that if you like,” Parl snickered. “Maybe you’ll realize how stupid you’ve been when we rip you apart and throw you to the dogs.”
Jessamine slapped him in the face, and Parl screamed in agony. The Dark Talent she had swapped in a few minutes ago would heighten sensation to agonizing levels—especially pain.
“Who is helping you?” she demanded through clenched teeth.
Parl finished whimpering and turned his gaze back to her, their faces only inches apart. Finally, he grinned.
“It’s a good thing you named your sister Ambassador. She’ll need all the training she can get to take over when we destroy you.”
Jessamine rocked backwards with shock. There was no way he could know she had made Shellina an ambassador—it had to be a lucky guess. Didn’t it?
Judging by the look on his face, Parl knew he had struck gold.
“I told you, Vicereine. You and I will be switching places a lot sooner than you think.”
“You lie.” Jessamine hit him again, terrified. She should be the only one able to enter the room. She had checked and double-checked in the Tech department to make sure that only her biochip would work.
Parl began laughing, despite the pain he was in, and something inside of Jessamine broke. She was exhausted, frightened, and disgusted by her upcoming nuptials, and all she wanted was for Parl to give her what she wanted.
She punched him in the face, over and over, each word punctuated with another blow.
“Who—is—helping—you!?” Blood trickled down his face but she hit him again. “Tell—me!”
Then, suddenly, he fell still. This scared Jessamine more than anything else had, and she frantically checked for a pulse, for breathing, for any sign of life.
He was dead.
For a long moment Jessamine stood there, hands shaking, unsure of what to do. Blinking, she removed the Dark Talents from his enhancers and fled the room, locking it behind her and determined to lock it away in her mind as well, until there was a good time to sift through everything that had happened.
She was so distracted in her hurry to return to her room that she hardly noticed Hanna until she’d collided with the woman just outside the door to her private chamber.
“Jessamine! You look terrified.” Hanna caught her arms, her expression softening as she led her into the sitting room and sat down with her. “I knew you wouldn’t be happy today, but just breathe and you’ll get through it.”
The wedding. She thinks I’m distraught over the wedding.
“Thank you—yes.” Jessamine rallied her thoughts. “I don’t know why, but something about Darius really irritates me—even when he’s not being irritating. I just…don’t like him.” Not wanting to sound dour she added, “But hopefully that will improve with acquaintance. Like you said, I just have to get through today.”
“The only one you’ve ever really seemed to like—beyond a passing interest—is Topher.”
Jessamine really didn’t want to think about Topher right now, or the fact that he would be sitting beside her sister in a few hours, watching Jessamine wed a man she would never love.
“He isn’t an option. You were always fond of reminding me of it, so I’m not sure why you’re bringing it up now.” She couldn’t quite keep the bite out of her voice.
Hanna frowned.
“I was never fond of keeping you from anything you wanted. Your father planted the seed in your head that you needed to marry strategically and advantageously, and you chose to do so.”
Jessamine exhaled heavily, nodding.
