Saven Deception

by Siobhan Davis

Haydn left as soon as we reached my apartment, and now I’m all alone with my addled thoughts. I twist onto my side in the bed and rub my tired eyes. Tonight was supposed to be about gaining answers, not adding more questions. My brain struggles to make sense of all I learned at the ball.

  Who is the dark-haired man, and why was he talking to Dante in the Mock-Up Facility if he isn’t Vin’s supervisor as I now suspect? What types of experiments are they conducting in Sector Twenty and why? The troubling conversation with the VP is also concerning. Why do they need more girls, and what are they doing to them? This must be tied up with the girls who are going missing from the Outer Circle on a nightly basis. I shudder as all manner of horrific visions enter my mind.

  I can’t wait to talk to Jarod about what I’ve discovered. I sent him a mail the minute I got back. I deliberately didn’t mention him to Logan or Haydn as I was trying to keep him out of the picture. But he’s probably freaking out over my sudden disappearance.

  My mind naturally switches to Logan. Who exactly is he, and why was he there with that woman? I’d also love to know how he figured out it was me underneath the layers of disguise. The bizarre way he dealt with Ms. Mountbatten didn’t go unnoticed by me either. There’s something about Logan that isn’t usual, isn’t normal, and I’m determined to get to the bottom of it.

  ***

  I update Jarod fully the next morning, and he’s as puzzled as I am regarding the experiments in Sector Twenty. Not gleaning much that was of use himself, he’s delighted I managed to uncover two different nuggets of information, and he promises to investigate further.

  ***

  The next two weeks fly by. Mercifully, school keeps me busy, and I throw myself into my studies with gusto. My class tutor—noticing my enthusiasm—signed me up for some additional projects and proposed my name as a student mentor. I’ve already begun harassing Vin in relation to the new project positions the government is offering to select participants of “The Experimento.” I’m determined to throw my name into the ring early, hence my over-eagerness.

  In my spare time, I mainly hang out with Fern and Jarod. Fern was the one to tell us about the government’s new TV program highlighting life in Thalassic City. According to her dad, they are airing a weekly hour-long program showing edited highlights of day-to-day life here. Presumably, it’s their way of enticing as many people as possible to sign up for a new life underwater.

  I try to catch Jenna on those rare occasions when she isn’t with The Hulk, but I haven’t spent nearly as much time with her as I’d like. She is spending an increasing amount of time at his apartment, and I’m alone most nights.

  I’ve made it clear to Haydn and Neve I’d prefer to keep my distance. Nevertheless, they still hover around me all the time. Every so often, I notice a pang of sadness on Neve’s face, and I’m tempted to cave, but I have to remind myself she’s lying to me, and I can’t trust anyone who won’t tell me the truth.

  Jarod continues to dig for dirt, but so far, he hasn’t discovered anything new. Or if he has, he isn’t sharing. Though there’s no denying he’s one of the good guys. He hounded me until I made a medical appointment. The doctor confirmed my symptoms are a result of the synthetic environment, and she’s insisting I attend weekly appointments so she can keep a closer eye on me. Before I left, she gave me some pain shots, which have soothed the aches.

  Everywhere except my heart.

  Of course, I see Logan around campus, but he avoids me as if I’m contaminated. While I have many unanswered questions, I’ve tried to wash that boy right out of my hair. Most days it’s easy to avoid looking at him because some adoring female usually accompanies him. I don’t think he’s been with the same girl twice, mind you, but it still hurts like crazy.

  I’m constantly giving myself little pep talks. It’s not like Logan and I had anything real going on, and I’ve never even kissed him. So I can’t fool myself into thinking I have some claim on him. But he’s the first boy I’ve felt a true connection with and the only one I’ve seriously entertained as a romantic possibility.

  My last conversation with Neve and Haydn often flits through my mind, and the suggestion I might be precious to Logan keeps me going on days when I’m feeling down about the whole situation. While I try not to dwell on him too long, and I won’t become one of those girls who is solely defined by the boy she’s crushing on, some days, emotion gets the best of me and the rejection weighs heavy on my mind.

  I auditioned for the TC Drama Club, and I was delighted when they confirmed I’m in line for a part. Excitement competes with unease as I make my way on foot to the auditorium after school. Today is the day when the cast is announced.

  The sight of a familiar head stops me dead in my tracks.

  Logan disappears through the front entrance ahead of me. What’s he doing here? I stride forward with renewed vigor.

  Covertly, I scan the vast auditorium for Logan, but I can’t see him anywhere. My heart thuds expectantly.

  I sit in a row at the front while the director greets us. “I’d like to thank you all for coming, and I’m pleased to inform you that everyone who auditioned has been chosen for a part in our forthcoming production of Romeo and Juliet.” My ears perk up at that. My conversation with Neve back in the Mock-Up Facility rises to the forefront of my mind, and a guilty feeling overcomes me. I miss her company. I wish she could learn to trust me enough to share the truth, so that we can resume our friendship.

  When my name is called, I step up onto the stage. “Congratulations,” the director says. “You’re our Juliet.”

  My jaw hits the floor. “Seriously?” I stare at him in shock.

  He chuckles good-naturedly. “Yes. You’ll be perfect.” His fingers weave through my hair. “With the right wig and costume, you’ll be the perfect, ethereal-looking Juliet. Beautiful.” He taps two long fingers off his lips as he peruses me, and I don’t want to know what visual images he’s conjuring in his mind.

  A boisterous cough from the middle of the auditorium distracts him. “Now, where was I?” he asks himself. “Yes!” He grins. “Time to announce your Romeo.” He looks down at his list.

  As he says this, my heart spirals to coronary-inducing proportions. I’m well accustomed with Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, and I’ve just realized that I’m going to be kissing some strange boy on stage. Hell. Why on earth did I sign up for this? Stretching oneself outside the usual comfort zone is a nuts strategy, I concur.

  “Conal M—” He stops mid-sentence and his eyes glaze over. He peers at his list again and scribbles something out. With a quick flourish of his pen, he smiles and tips his head up. “Dante Chandler. Please step up.”

  I stumble back in shock as Dante saunters up to the stage with a swagger. Wiping my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans, I avoid looking at him and stare out into the crowd. My eyes find Logan in an instant; my terror is perfectly matched in his gaze.

  I’m aware of two things at once. Logan moves quickly, hopping over the end of the row and stalking toward the stage, and Dante captures me by the waist, spinning me around as he says something to the director. He leers at me, and I jump back, panicked, but I’m trapped in his solid embrace.

  “That’s a wonderful suggestion, Dante,” the director says. “It’s important to ensure you both have appropriate chemistry considering you are enacting the world’s most famous star-crossed lovers.”

  In a nanosecond, Dante has lowered his head, and his lips are on mine—wet, hard, and demanding. I attempt to struggle but it’s no use. Dante firmly holds the back of my head as his lips continue their assault on my mouth. His muscular arms keep me in place, and I think I might puke. All I can do is steadfastly clamp my mouth shut and refuse to kiss him back.

  Dante is yanked off me with such force that I’m propelled backward out of his arms, falling flat on my butt on the hardwood stage. I watch open-mouthed as Dante and Logan get into a full on boy-fight in front of an incredulous crowd. The director attempts to intervene, and
he receives a powerful jab to the jaw for his efforts. He skims the floor, his head hopping painfully off the boards. I wince.

  Logan has been more than holding his own which is somewhat surprising given Dante’s superior Hulk-like advantages. But suddenly he’s flipped on his back and Dante hovers over him menacingly. Raising his fist, he aims for Logan’s face, but Logan moves his head in time. He isn’t so lucky the second time, and Dante’s aim is spot-on. Logan takes another savage blow to his jawline, and I’m on my feet before I can contemplate what I’m doing.

  Jumping on Dante’s back, I wrap my arms and legs around him and scrape my nails across his cheeks. Dante lets out an inhuman roar before thrusting back and flinging me off like a ragdoll. I land heavily on my butt, and a sharp dart of pain shoots up and down my spine. A moan slips past my lips.

  Dante looms over me and his massive arm reaches out, yanking me up. Grabbing my throat, he squeezes hard, and indisputable panic waylays me. My eyes bug out of my head, and I claw at his hands as my lungs scream for air. White dots blur my vision, and I’m close to passing out.

  Dante drops me suddenly, and I slink to the ground on my side, my cheek scraping the edge of the wooden floor. My chest heaves as my lungs draw greedy mouthfuls of air.

  The sounds of fighting continue, and I haul myself upright. Logan and Dante are running at each other headfirst, and their matching fierce expressions are terrifying. They look like they want to tear each other apart.

  Logan slams into Dante pushing him back. Dante falls backward over an upturned chair, and Logan grasps the opportunity. He rains blow after blow on his head and torso, pummeling him without hesitation. Shocked gasps echo around me, and I spot the crowd who has gathered at the base of the stage, shuffling anxiously from foot to foot as they trade horrified looks.

  A keen, screeching sound assaults my eardrums, and I raise my hands to shield the noise. A light trembling startles me. Awkwardly, I climb to my feet and stagger down the steps as the floor starts to buckle. Logan darts forward, pulling me into his arms.

  As he cradles me to his chest, I wrap my arms around him and stare in shock at the scene unfolding behind us. The entire floor of the stage has crumpled and disintegrated into the basement, demolishing anything in its path. There’s no sign of Dante or the director.

  Extreme concern for Logan ambushes me. What has he done? Will they kick him out because of it?

  A few heads spin in our direction as Logan picks up pace and races out of the auditorium.

  He doesn’t stop running all the way to the RT station, and neither of us speaks the entire journey. For my part, I’m relishing being in his arms, and I don’t want to do or say anything to ruin the moment, so I nestle in close and inhale a lifetime of him.

  For once, my heart and mind agree. He defended me. Went out on a limb for me. Risked expulsion for me. Unnamed emotion inflates my heart to bursting point.

  When we reach the entrance to the station, Logan puts me down, keeping an arm wrapped around my back to support me. “Can you walk? Are you seriously hurt?” His fingers linger on my cheek. We stare wordlessly at one another, and the invisible cord pulls and stretches between us.

  I ache all over, and I’m more than the literal definition of “butt-sore” right now, but I don’t feel any of that. All that exists is the delicious warmth radiating between us, and I never want to leave his side. My eyes zoom in on his lips, and I want to kiss him so badly I’d happily trade my life for one kiss.

  Logan is the first to break away. Shaking his head, he removes his arm from my back. Straightaway, I’m cold. Hesitantly, he reaches out and laces his fingers in mine. The giddy feeling returns.

  We scan our wrists and enter the train. Logan leads me to the end of the carriage, to a section of empty double seats, and motions for me to sit. His arm automatically winds across my shoulders. Snuggling into him, I circle my arm around his waist. When he kisses the top of my head, I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  We journey in complete silence, wrapped in our strong embrace. I’ve no idea where he’s taking me or what he plans to do. But I couldn’t care less. All I care about is that I’m finally in his arms, and it feels so amazing, nothing else matters.

  Logan guides me off the train at the outermost city stop. We are on the edge of the city, bordering the start of the residential sector. “I want to show you my special place. It’s about a twenty-minute walk. Do you think you can manage that or would you like me to carry you?”

  My first instinct is to hop willingly into his arms, but I don’t want him to think I’m weak, so I decline. “I’m okay to walk.”

  He clasps my hand firmly in his, and we set out in a northerly direction.

  “What happened back there—”

  “Let’s not talk about that yet,” Logan interrupts me. “It will be safer to talk when we get to our destination.”

  “Thank you,” I say a few minutes later.

  Lowering his chin, he looks at me.

  “For saving me from him.”

  His finger draws circular motions on the back of my hand, and it’s amazingly soothing. Then he pulls me into his arms. My head barely reaches his chest, and it’s one of those rare occasions where my height is actually advantageous. I cling to him as he holds me tight. His lips continuously brush the top of my head in a nurturing gesture.

  I’m fearful to put on a name on what we’re sharing because when you start applying labels, it changes things. For now, I want to bask in the glorious sensations he invokes in me. It feels like all my Christmases and all my dreams have merged into one wondrous melting pot of joyous exhilaration.

  I don’t care if I am booted out of Thalassic City.

  It was so worth it to have these few precious moments with the boy that I care about.

  With this boy who I know could mean so much more to me.

  If only I was allowed.

  CHAPTER 19

  Logan presses his lips to my forehead and draws a deep breath. “You doing okay?”

  I can only nod, such is the strength of the emotion eddying inside me.

  “Okay. Let’s keep going. We are almost there.” He squeezes my hand. “I don’t know how much time we’ll have.”

  Dampening down my disappointment, I force my legs to match his Godzilla-like strides. A rumbling sound in the distance snags my attention. The farther we advance, the louder the sound is, like stones pelting off a wall. As we round the corner, the volume intensifies. The thunderous, gushing sound is accompanied by a gentle breeze that peels my hair from my face.

  I stare questioningly at Logan and he grins. “Almost there.”

  We round the next bend, and I stop dead in my tracks. The noise is deafening, and the breeze is stronger. But it’s the view that steals my breath.

  We are in front of the massive waterfall I’ve only seen from the safe confines of the train. Its powerful magnetism entrances me, and I stand motionless, mouth agape, at a total loss for words.

  “It’s hypnotic, isn’t it?” Logan says in an awestruck voice.

  “For sure.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to add, “Like you.” Thankfully, common sense prevails.

  “Wait until we reach the cave.” His eyes spark alive.

  “Cave?” My eyebrows lift.

  “I discovered it the first day we arrived here,” he says, moving me forward. “No one else knows about it. It’s become my … sanctuary. I’ve wanted to bring you here so many times, but, you know …”

  He doesn’t need to verbalize it. I know.

  As we near the mouth of the waterfall, the booming noise is earsplitting, and a light spray of misty water coats my skin and sinks into my clothes. Logan veers left and we walk through a thick deluge of shrubs that enclose the waterfall on both sides. Always the gentleman, he goes first and restrains the branches so I can walk through unscathed. When we emerge, we are at the far rear side of the waterfall. A dense, solid, granite ledge protrudes underneath the cascading flow of water. The jagged
rock face juts out at an angle overhead, and there is maybe four feet in height that is accessible.

  “The surface can be a bit slippery so walk carefully,” he advises. Taking my hand, he crouches down and steps out onto the ledge. I don’t have to hunch over much, but my back still remonstrates with me. It’s testament to Logan’s considerable hotness that I haven’t felt any pain thus far.

  He’s definitely my kind of distraction.

  Logan walks really slowly—most likely for my benefit—before darting quickly into the side. He pulls me through the small opening in the rock front. Once inside, he straightens up, arching his back, and drops my hand. The space is in pitch-black darkness, and I can’t even see my hand in front of me. I sniff, detecting a rank, moldy, musty flavor in the air.

  An incandescent glow lights up the cave, followed by a mad burst of vibrant colors that glance magically off the walls. I whip my head around the small space. Logan has tacked successive lines of multi-colored lighting to the walls of the cave on either side. A small brown rug lies across the floor in the middle, and two accompanying black beanbags look inviting. A heap of books is stacked in a neat pile off to the side beside a small cardboard box.

  “What do you think?” Logan asks.

  “Christmas lights?”

  “I had to improvise.”

  I sense how much it means that he’s brought me here. “I love it.” I don’t need to gush. It’s the truth.

  He beams at me and the charge sparks between us again. “Are you thirsty?” He crouches down in front of the box.

  “Yeah.” I’m pretty parched.

  He hands me a bottle of water and a protein bar. “Sorry, that’s all I’ve got to eat.”

  “It’s perfect, thanks.”

  “Come, sit,” he says, his fingers curling gently around the tips of mine.

  I plop down on the beanbag beside him and yelp.

  “You are hurt.” He frowns. “Let me take a look.”

  He scrunches the edge of my shirt, but I clamp down on his hand. There’s no way I’m admitting that it’s my butt that’s sore, and no way am I ready to let him inspect that part of my anatomy. Yet.