by Dylan Steel
“What do you mean ‘for now’?” Sage lifted her chin, but her hands were trembling. They must not have seen the part of the footage that would condemn Sage for not reporting Everett as Lawless, which meant Everett’s connection must have come through—but had they not realized the rest of it needed to be deleted too?
“I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the rules surrounding our secrecy. It’s of the utmost importance, and exceptions aren’t made for common pairings.” Kai matched her defiant gaze. “The only reason you’re here talking to us right now is because you’re pregnant.”
Sage paled. They wanted her dead too.
“Though the heads are willing to reconsider the normal course of action due to your unusual circumstances,” Nic added quickly.
She shifted slightly to face Nic. “What?” It came out as barely a whisper.
“I told them that you were confused when you told Everett about us—that you weren’t thinking clearly after everything that had happened recently. They’ve conceded to postpone judgment on the matter given that immediate action can’t be taken anyways.”
Sage stiffened, ice in her eyes. “What do you know about what’s happened to me? We haven’t spoken since La N’bo.”
“I know, but… My relationship with Carnabel has only ever been duty—and she’s pregnant now, so it’s over between us. I swear.” Nic shifted his weight. “I told you I still loved you. And… I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” He looked a little uncomfortable at the admission.
Surprise flitted over her face, but then her expression hardened. “You have,” she said flatly. It wasn’t a question. She knew he was telling the truth.
He nodded grimly. “I know you only got pregnant after preliminary interventions—and we know that the residual effects of that injection can cause unusual behavior.”
Her face reddened.
“And when you were in the alley, when those men… I thought you were going to die, and it nearly—” He clenched his jaw. “I would’ve done anything to trade places with you, but I knew I couldn’t even get to you in time, so I commed Kai.”
Her gaze flicked to Kai. “What did you have to do with it?” she hissed.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Well, at the time, you were a member of the Kunbriat who was still in good standing, which meant you were under our protection, and I wasn’t too far away. And I happen to have a sort of business relationship with Dutch.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. “It was you.” He’d been the figure at the end of the alley—the one who’d called Dutch and his gents away before they could kill her and Everett.
“Don’t expect it to happen again,” he said coolly. “You betrayed our secrets. You’re no longer in good standing, and you’re not under our protection anymore.”
“Unless you can prove your loyalty to the Kunbriat again,” Nic said hurriedly. “There’s still a chance the other heads might waive your punishment if you can—”
“Prove my loyalty?” Sage’s eyes narrowed. “To a bunch of murderers? The same people who killed the man I love? Why in Eprah’s name would I want to do that?”
Pain was etched across Nic’s face. “Sage, don’t—”
“You’re still the foolish little girl you were when you entered the Bokja Tournament a year too early,” Kai said derisively. “You have more than most people could ever imagine, and you don’t even realize it. You’re stubborn and ungrateful and—”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Was I supposed to say thank you for saving our lives? I wasn’t sure if that was still applicable since you wound up killing Everett anyways.”
“That was your doing. And you’re still here,” Kai said pointedly. “Maybe you should be thankful.”
“You’re still here too.” Sage stared back at him with pure hatred blazing behind her eyes. “But no one lives forever. And the great Kai Abeldra is no exception.”
The air was thick with tension as her meaning became clear. The two stared at each other for a long moment. It was a threat, and they both knew it. Sage would never forgive Kai for killing Everett or Penelope. He was the most vile kind of monster she’d ever met, and she’d be doing the world a favor when she ended him.
“Kai,” Nic said, breaking the silence. “Can you give us a minute alone?”
Kai glanced at Sage with disgust and stood. “Gladly.”
When the door clicked closed behind Kai, Nic let out a breath in relief. “I’m so glad you’re ok. I was so wor—”
“Stop.” Sage glared at him. “I have nothing to say to you. Except that you should leave me alone and stop spying on me.”
“Sage—”
“No, Nic,” she snapped. “A few months ago, Everett was your friend. And you were part of this. It’s your fault he’s dead.”
Nic’s hands clenched into fists as he worked his jaw back and forth. “You said you didn’t love him.”
She looked away. Tears threatened to form, but she couldn’t let them come. She didn’t think they’d ever stop if she did. “Things changed.”
“It’s not like I wanted to hurt him.” Nic exhaled slowly. “You didn’t leave us much of a choice when you—”
“Stop blaming me!” she shrieked, turning on him. “I didn’t take away all his Chances. I’m not the one who did that. I didn’t—”
“You told him, Sage!” Nic shouted back at her. “The one thing that you knew would mean we had to kill him, and you did that. Don’t make it sound like this was what I wanted—because it wasn’t.”
“Wasn’t it?” Sage growled. “Because I distinctly remember you threatening him when you thought it was his fault I didn’t want to be with you.”
Nic ran a hand through his hair. “Rox, Sage. I was mad. Can you blame me? But that has nothing to do with this.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, no?”
“No,” he said firmly. “You shouldn’t have told him. This all could’ve been avoided if you’d just—”
“No, it couldn’t. I had to tell him.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “He saw my mark. He remembered it from your stupid dinner request, and he said he’d ask you about it if I didn’t tell him, and I knew you wouldn’t hesitate to kill him for what he might know, and I knew he could keep a secret and…” She bit her lip. “I was trying to save his life.”
Nic reached forward cautiously, gently setting a hand on her knee. “And I’m trying to save yours. Right now, your pregnancy is saving your life—it bought me some time to talk down the other heads, but they aren’t inclined toward mercy. You have to earn it. You’ll still be expected to protect other Kunbriat even though they won’t protect you—but since you’re pregnant, you shouldn’t need their protection. As long as you stay out of alleys,” he added.
“You were part of it, weren’t you?” Sorrow filled her eyes. “Not just the decision to—but—you were one of the ones who killed Everett.”
He swallowed. “Yes.”
She pulled back, burying her face in her hands.
“I had to do it to save you. They never would’ve listened to me or considered sparing your life if I wasn’t willing to protect the Kunbriat’s secret from outsiders.” Nic tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. “I love you. I’m doing everything I can to keep you safe, but you have to do everything you can to make this right. The only way you have a chance of surviving this is if you—”
“I don’t want to survive it.” Agony ripped across her chest. Everett was right—surviving wasn’t enough. She wanted to live. “I don’t want anything to do with the Kunbriat,” Sage choked out, “or you.” She sucked in a ragged breath and lifted her eyes. “I don’t care if you thought you were saving me. I’m not yours to protect, and I don’t love you anymore, Nic.”
She stood, her nails digging into her palms as she delivered her final blow. “You killed him, and I hate you for it.”
24. THE NEW NORMAL
Night was already fading to morning by the tim
e Sage was released from Perjaash. Released. Apparently, she no longer got to be the one to decide when she could leave.
Nic had spent hours pleading with her to reconsider her stance on hating the Kunbriat and him. He refused to let her go, only relenting when she finally lied and said she’d consider it, but that she still needed some time apart from him.
Exhausted, she stumbled back into their apartment, not bothering to turn on the light. Not their apartment—her apartment. Tears threatened again as she remembered she no longer shared it with anyone.
She collapsed in bed, managing only an hour or two of fitful sleep before she had to shut out the nightmares and wake up again. Just because she’d lived through the worst day imaginable didn’t mean the Peace would cut her any slack and give her the day off. People died every day in Eprah, and no one was supposed to mourn them.
Dressing in a daze, Sage’s fingers brushed against something cold when she reached into her drawer. Frowning, she felt around and pulled out the cuff that Nic had given her.
It felt like it was from another lifetime. She’d shoved it away in the drawer after he’d told her he was going to do his duty with Carnabel, but now, she couldn’t stand to have it anywhere near her. She tossed it in the garbage chute without hesitation and then finished getting ready for work. It didn’t matter that he’d never get it back.
***
The moment Sage walked through the tech room door, the light on the corner of her desk went off.
Great.
She sighed. After yesterday, starting the day with a new problem seemed quite fitting.
Making her way to her desk, she grabbed her databook and headed back into the hall, pulling up the req as she walked. To her surprise, she was being called up to the interrogations wing again. Boulder’s office.
Her stomach twisted into knots. She hadn’t seen Boulder for awhile, and today’s timing was a little too convenient. Had he heard what happened? If so, he probably blamed her for Everett’s death too—not that he knew Everett or cared what happened to him. But telling someone about the Kunbriat—destroying the integrity of their shared secret—that was a Kunbriat’s one unforgivable act.
Sage held her breath as she stepped off the Transfer and made her way to Boulder’s office. The last thing she wanted to do was run into one of the other officers on this floor. Even though they couldn’t strip her Chances at the moment, she had no doubt they’d easily find some other way to make her life miserable.
“Boulder? You in?” Sage stopped just outside his office. The door eased open under her knuckles as she knocked. She poked her head through the crack. “Guess not,” she muttered, letting herself in.
Glancing down at her databook, she scanned the req again. Apparently, his tablet had been sluggish the past couple days, and charging it hadn’t fixed the problem. She suppressed a grin. Easy enough. A quick diagnostic would probably just tell her to wipe bloated data.
Sage lifted her head, looking around the room. The place was a total wreck—it looked like he’d looted the Archives and dumped half of the cataloguing room in his office. She rolled her eyes. It would only be an easy fix if she could find the databook.
Boulder came thundering through the door, startling her.
“Sorry I’m late. I hope you didn’t have too much trouble getting started without me.”
“Well, actually, I—” Sage jumped back as Boulder shoved past her and slammed open a drawer, dumping a handful of items inside. She recognized a bracelet and one of the silver egg-shaped devices that officers sometimes used, but the rest of the items were unfamiliar to her. “—I couldn’t find your tablet.”
“Eh, I didn’t even realize you’d be the one to get my req, firecracker,” he said distractedly, closing the drawer and turning back to her in one quick motion, not bothering to lock it. He shoved a pile of relics to the side and uncovered his databook. He picked it up and handed it to her.
For someone with such a high position in the Peace, Boulder was strangely lax about security. He must’ve figured that the only people who could even get close to his office were the ones who were supposed to be there in the first place. Or that someone would have to be crazy to steal from a man whose size and strength rivaled that a horse. Either was true enough. Even though he was her friend, Sage wouldn’t have been there if she didn’t have to be, and she definitely didn’t want to get on Boulder’s bad side.
“Guess you got lucky,” she said as she tapped the screen, pulling up the diagnostic.
His eyebrow jerked up as he crossed his arms and leaned against the table. “Sounds like I’m not the only one.”
Her eyes snapped to his. “You heard about what happened?”
The confirmation was written all over his face as he looked back at her. “I did. Can’t say I was too happy about it either.”
“Boulder, I—”
He untucked a hand, holding it up. “Don’t apologize. I’m a little partial to you, firecracker, so if the heads can actually consider letting this slide, I figure I can too. They have to have a good reason.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. She wasn’t sorry, and she was glad she didn’t have to lie about it. It had torn her apart inside when she’d finally relented and lied to Nic last night, and she didn’t want to do it again. Everett deserved better.
“Thanks,” she said weakly.
“Eh, sure. Just make sure it never happens again,” he said sternly.
Tears sprang to her eyes. She tried to choke them back. “Don’t worry. I don’t—” she swallowed, “—I don’t have anyone left to tell.”
“Aw, now, don’t cry, firecracker.” Boulder reached out and pulled her into an almost bone-crushing hug.
Just when she thought she might pass out, he grabbed both her arms and pushed her back, looking her squarely in the eye. “If you need any help with your pairing duties now that…” he trailed off, suddenly looking unsure of himself. “Eh, you just let me know if you do, alright? I can make sure my name winds up at the top of your options list. You don’t have to get stuck with someone else’s leftovers.”
Sage felt like he’d just punched a hole in her chest, but she managed a nod. “Thanks, Boulder, but I’m actually—I’m pregnant already.”
His eyes widened. “Eh, well, that explains a bit.”
“You didn’t know?”
He shook his head. “I s’pose that’s one of their reasons for considering letting it slide,” he said thoughtfully.
“I didn’t give them much choice in it, I guess,” Sage admitted.
Boulder snorted. “They still had a choice.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows crowded together. “They can’t do anything to me as long as I’m pregnant.”
“Yeah? And how many people know you’re pregnant?” He tilted his head. “Records can be faked or changed—you should know that. You either gave them a good reason to keep you around, or you’ve got someone looking out for you. I’d put good credits on it.”
The color drained from Sage’s face as she thought about what Boulder was saying.
Her heart sank. She’d been so naive.
She’d actually believed the Kunbriat would play by Eprah’s rules—but why should they? They already thought they were better than everyone else, and they valued their secrecy above all else. They probably didn’t think Eprah’s rules even applied to them, so why wouldn’t they break the rules to make sure things stayed the same? The Kunbriat would do anything to maintain their superiority.
Nic must have done a lot more than she realized to keep her alive. But it changed nothing. He may have saved her, but he’d still killed Everett. She wasn’t about to forget that.
“So as much as I like seeing you, firecracker, I actually do need to get that tablet fixed.” Boulder nodded to the databook in her hand as he shuffled around a few relics on his desk. “It’s got some of my personal notes on interrogations, and I have to send those up the line by week’s end.”
“Oh! Right. Sorr
y.” She glanced at the screen and frowned. “Whoa, Boulder, what did you do? You actually screwed this up.”
“Tried to tell ya.”
“That’s almost impressive,” she said, cracking a smile. “But I’ll have to take this to the third floor to fix it. Do you have a backup in the meantime?”
He nodded, jerking his thumb toward another pile on the desk. “Grabbed it first thing this morning.”
“Ok, good. I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can, but it might not be done until tomorrow.”
“Long as it gets done.”
“For you, Boulder, top priority,” Sage teased as she headed toward the door, now clutching two databooks.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He threw her a half-hearted wave as she walked out, his priorities already shuffling back to his previous tasks.
Sage wasted no time making her way back to the Transfer. An uneasy feeling settled deep inside her chest, curling around her heart every time she was on this floor. She never wanted to stick around longer than absolutely necessary.
As the Transfer door closed, Sage leaned her head back against the wall. She didn’t want to stick around Eprah longer than absolutely necessary either. Trying to survive the System of Worth and the wrath of the Kunbriat was a losing battle. She didn’t want to stick around long enough to give either of them an opportunity to crush her into any more pieces.
They’d already taken so much from her. Loss and death were pressing down all around her. Hard. And she was suffocating.
She wanted to live. Desperately. If Everett were here, he’d—
Tears welled up in her eyes again, blurring her vision. She couldn’t think about that. All that mattered was protecting herself and the only remnant of Everett that remained—the small life growing inside her. She’d do whatever she had to.
The Lawless couldn’t protect her. They’d failed to protect her parents and Mr. Walsh and Penelope—and now Everett. They seemed like more of a curse than a cause. For people that claimed to want to make things better, they’d certainly made things worse for a lot of people.
