Sins of Our Ancestors Boxed Set

by Bridget E. Baker

  I leap from Wes’ lap and nod my head in what I hope is a penitent way. Adam glances from me to Wesley and back again, and after a moment, steps back out and locks the door.

  We wait a half hour or so, until the light starts to disappear from the window. This time we stack the cots on top of one another, and Wesley braces them in place while I climb up on top. The whole thing wobbles alarmingly when he hands me the pipe.

  “You scurry up first,” Wesley says, “and try to smash the window as quietly as you can.”

  Quietly smash a window.

  I sigh heavily. This plan is idiotic, but sometimes dumb things do work, right? At the end of the day, it’s our only idea and I can’t sit around and hope everything will all work out.

  I stand up and for the first time, I'm eye level with the window. I raise my arm to smash the glass, and I'm bringing the pipe down forcefully when a face appears in front of me. I stumble back and fall off the cots, only spared from crashing to the ground by landing unceremoniously in Wesley's lap.

  I might not have been so shocked by the appearance of a human face in the window I was preparing to smash if the enormous, beautiful, golden-green eyes I saw hadn't belonged to a dead man. The glass from the window shatters and shards fall all over me, the two collapsed cots, and a concerned Wesley.

  I look up into Sam's gorgeous face. He's sitting on the windowsill, booted feet dangling into the room. My eyes search every inch of his body looking for damage, bandages, or some sign of injury. He's wearing a blue t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest as perfectly as it ever did.

  “Sam!”

  He grins back at me, his eyes twinkling.

  “You look . . . completely fine,” I say. “How's that possible?”

  He shrugs. “I heal fast.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I'm saving you, of course.”

  Seeing him is like discovering the sun hasn't set after all. Warmth spreads through my body.

  “What else would I be doing?” Sam glances behind me and I know the very second he recognizes Wesley. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  15

  “Ruby was under the clearly mistaken impression that you'd been shot six times in the chest a week ago,” Wesley says. “I came back with her to see if we could save what was left of you.”

  Sam leaps from the window, dropping a good eight feet to land in a crouch on the tile floor a few inches in front of Wesley and me. His landing doesn't make a sound.

  “Why'd you jump down, man?” Wesley moans. “How are we supposed to get back up there now?”

  I slide off of Wesley's lap and scramble to my feet. Sam stands at the same time, and quicker than a blink, his arms encircle me, lifting me up off the ground, swinging me around and setting the world back on its proper axis.

  “I thought you were dead,” I whisper. “And then I thought you were alive, and then dead again.” My eyes tear up, even though I’m happy.

  He snorts and his breath ruffles my hair. “I'm hard to kill, sunshine.”

  My heart sprouts wings and soars. “I'm so glad you’re here.”

  I pull my face back from his chest and look up into his. He’s so beautiful I might weep. His hair is back in a ponytail again, but a few blond strands have escaped, and sweep across his chiseled jaw. I reach up to brush them back, and he leans down to kiss me.

  His lips brush mine, and I sigh against him.

  “How are you here?” I whisper.

  He kisses me again, this time more firmly, and I mold against him, my hands curling against the hard planes of his chest, my heart beating in time with his.

  “There are some things I should have told you,” he says. “I’ll explain later when we’re away from here, but the short version is that I heal fast.”

  “I’m so sorry I left you,” I say.

  He shakes his head and puts one finger on my lips. His eyes follow his finger and his head bows back down toward mine. His lips graze mine gently, and then more insistently.

  Wesley clears his throat. And then he clears it again.

  “Not to break up this delightful reunion, but remember how the shattering of glass would bring down the wrath of not one, but two armed guards? Might we want to expedite the escape process?” Wesley's standing behind me, hands in his pockets, eyes on the wall.

  “Why'd you bring this guy again?” Sam asks. “And wasn't he Marked?”

  “Funny thing about that. Turns out me and Ruby's epic kiss healed me.” Wesley turns around to face us so we can see his smirk.

  Sam stiffens against me, and I want to smack Wes. “It wasn’t our kiss. It was the blood from the split lip that resulted when our faces banged against our teeth.”

  Wesley shrugs and grins. “Oh fine, details details.”

  I shake my head. “Another detail. My dad injected me with antibodies, so I've been immune to Tercera all this time.”

  Sam cups my face in his hand. “I'm glad to hear you're safe.” He leans down to kiss me again and I melt inside like butter on a hot day.

  Wesley sighs melodramatically. “Really with the kissing again? Your attention span is not long. Guards, man. We gotta get out of here. Didn't you say you came to save her, as opposed to say, joining us in chains?”

  Sam straightens up and pulls me tighter against his chest. “It's been a long week. I think I'm entitled to a moment. I took out the guard in front before coming in through the window.”

  “Which still leaves another guard,” Wesley points out.

  “I try not to annoy people by repeating things. You might try to emulate me,” Sam says.

  “Excuse me if I get hung up on little things like armed guards.” Wesley frowns.

  Sam reaches behind his back and pulls a gun from his waistband. “I could take out that guy with my eyes closed.” He tucks the gun back into his waistband.

  “If you could have taken him out with your eyes closed, why not keep your eyes open, just for kicks, and take that second guy out? Then you could have come through the door, instead of leaping down through the window and stranding us all in this tiny box full of glass shards?”

  Sam frowns.

  Wesley throws his arms in the air. “But what do I know? It was just a thought.”

  Sam raises one eyebrow. “It upsets Ruby when I shoot people I don't strictly need to shoot, and we know the second guard. He was very polite to us on our last trip here.”

  I clear my voice. “I’m glad you didn’t shoot Adam. He’s nice.”

  Wesley gulps. “Fair enough. No one seems to care what I think, but I vote for leave now, smooch later.”

  Sam glares at him, leans over and kisses me one more time, lingeringly, before he straightens and drops his arms. “Ruby, you ready to leave?”

  I smile. “It's probably a good idea. We were gonna stack these cots, and use them to—”

  Sam pulls his t-shirt off, and I completely lose my train of thought. This time, it's not only his beautiful chest that distracts me. It's the six bright pink circles on it that I can't look away from. How could they have healed so perfectly in less than a week?

  “Seriously, I feel like we're filming one of those old soap operas my mom loved,” Wesley moans. “What possible reason could there be for you to take your shirt off? And can we talk about why you aren't wearing a coat? It's winter, for heaven's sake.”

  Sam bites the collar of his shirt, leaving his hands free, and leaps four feet vertically in the air. He pulls up to the window sill, and drapes his shirt over the glass, and then he drops back down to the ground. “The shirt is so Ruby doesn’t get cut up crawling through the window.”

  Wesley sputters. “I'd have loaned you my jacket, you insane body-building high-jumper. But I guess, any excuse to get naked, right?”

  Sam ignores him. “You were saying about the cots, sunshine?”

  “Uh,” I say, “We were gonna stack them and try and climb up to reach the window. It was working, for the record.”

&n
bsp; Sam grins, and picks me up. He sets me easily on his shoulders like I'm a toddler. “If you stand up, I think you can scramble over. They built this holding facility at the end of the inhabited area since they like to pretend everyone here is so perfectly behaved. The upshot is that very few people are around. I doubt anyone will notice you climbing out, but I'll be right behind you if someone does.”

  “What about me?” Wesley asks.

  I climb up to the window and glance back at Wesley and Sam. They're glaring at one another like dogs, circling slowly as though they're about to face off gladiator style. Even the thought of the two of them fighting makes me giggle. “Sam, can Wes climb the cots like we planned?”

  Sam grunts.

  “We aren't leaving him here, so don't even suggest it.”

  Sam grits his teeth. “No cots.” He grabs Wesley, who's skinny, but still has a good foot and seventy pounds on me, and tosses him up to the window ledge.

  I scramble to the side, and dangle from my hands, ready to drop into the bushes outside, but Wesley's voice carries faintly. “Uh, what now?”

  “Pull yourself up kid, geez. Don't tell me you can't do a single pull up, because that would be pathetic.”

  I drop to the ground, the bush simultaneously cushioning my fall and scratching my calf. I bite down on a whimper.

  Wesley's bright red face appears over the edge of the window, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief. Apparently he can do at least one pull up. He drops down more gracefully than I did, which makes sense. He has twelve inches less to fall, after all.

  A moment later, Sam leaps down after him. He crouches near me and lays a hand on my knee. “Where are you hurt?”

  “How could you possibly know that?” I ask.

  He grins down at me and kisses my nose. “You whimpered when you landed, you’ve got a slightly elevated heart rate, and there’s a faint smell of iron from your blood.”

  He pulls my jeans up and looks at my scrape.

  “You can hear my heartbeat?”

  Sam shrugs.

  “That hardly seems fair.” I yank my pants leg back down. “Apparently I have no secrets, but I’m fine.”

  “That's my girl,” Sam says.

  “Rubes, you ready?” Wesley asks.

  I stand up and nod. “Let's go.”

  I head down the road in front of the prison, slowing down to check out the slumped figure of Edward, the hair pulling jerk. He's unconscious, but breathing. Sam's a few paces ahead of me, and I jog to catch up to him. He takes my hand in his, and I suppress a ridiculously girly giggle.

  Sam heads up the street purposefully. He's right, there's no one else around. In fact, the only other lights anywhere near come from my parents' palatial white house. If it weren't for a nearly full moon, we'd be stumbling around in the dark, or at least I would be. Sam guides us down near the water, a solid fifty yards from the house. “Hopefully anyone who sees us will assume we're out for a romantic evening stroll.” He winks at me.

  “What will they think I'm doing?” Wesley asks.

  “I forgot you were there.” Sam shrugs. “Huh. Maybe they won't notice you. But if they do, they'll probably feel bad for us. Third wheels suck.”

  I squeeze Sam’s hand. He needs to cut Wesley some slack.

  A few blocks past Solomon’s palace, Sam cuts down an alley way, and toward the main road.

  “What's the plan here?” Wesley asks.

  “I thought we'd head back to the abandoned bridge Ruby and I used to get here.”

  “How do you know your way around so well?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Wesley asks. “Haven't you been in a hospital bed for the last week?”

  “I heal fast,” Sam says. “I've been for a few walks around town, and I have a good mind for directions.”

  “You haven't been a prisoner?” I ask. “Solomon lured us here with an offer. He'd trade a visit with me and a dose of my blood for your safe return.”

  Sam frowns. “I haven't seen Solomon, but your mother reassured me I was a guest. I was treated quite competently for my injuries. I still have a bed in the hospital.”

  “How'd you know to rescue Ruby, then?” Wesley asks.

  “I heard a rumor that Solomon, who everyone believes is your dad, by the way, had imprisoned you as some kind of discipline. I knew you Marked him, so I had my doubts about the nature of it.”

  “I think in his mind, he’s trying to teach me proper behavior, or at least that’s the story he’s publishing to the community at large. It probably doesn’t look great to say the king is tossing his daughter in jail. Mostly though, I think he's holding me until he's sure my blood has healed him.”

  “I can't believe they're giving Sam free rein, and they locked you and me in a cell,” Wesley says. “They told us when they locked us up that the offer was a lie, and you really were dead.”

  Sam stops, and pulls me close, under the light from a streetlamp. “That’s what you meant by dead, then alive, then dead again?”

  I nod, mutely.

  He crushes me against him again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I’d do if I thought you died.”

  My heart stutters remembering how I felt.

  “I may not have been behind bars, but I don't really have free rein, either.”

  “At least you weren’t being tortured,” I say. “I wondered about that, once we heard you were still alive.”

  He cups my face in his hand. “I'm sorry, sunshine,” he whispers. “That you had to go through that. I told you I'd keep you safe, and I meant it.”

  “I never should’ve left you.” I shake my head against his chest. “I never would have if I thought there was any chance you'd pull through.” Tears fill my eyes again. I blink to clear them, but one snakes down my cheek anyway.

  He lifts my chin and wipes my tear away. “Job was right to flee when he did. You're an easier target than I am. I just wish you’d known I would come find you. If you hadn’t come back, I would have escaped in the next few days.”

  “If I had known, I’d have stayed put and we could’ve left together,” I say. “I’ll never leave you again.”

  He grins. “That’s a better plan. Plus, if you'd stayed on the island with me, we wouldn't have a gangly tag along.”

  Wesley harrumphs. “I'm still her best friend, oaf, even if you're the boyfriend.”

  Sam leans down and kisses the top of my head.

  A shrill voice startles me. “Who is she, and who's the boyfriend?”

  I look past the pool of light surrounding us, and squint at the shape beyond. A tall, thin woman with long, dark hair, wearing a long white coat strides into view.

  “I said leave now, smooch later,” Wesley mutters, “but does anyone listen to me?” He shakes his head.

  Sam steps away from me with a guilty look on his face. “Claudia, this is Rhonda, my sister. Oh, sorry, where are my manners?”

  He gestures to me. “Rhonda, this is Dr. Flores. She's the one I was telling you about, who took such good care of me. She's the reason I'm still alive.” He widens his eyes before turning back toward Claudia with a smile.

  I hate her on sight.

  Her ruby red lips part in surprise, and I realize my jaw has dropped. I snap it shut. Wait, did he just introduce me as his sister and say my name was Rhonda? What the heck is going on?

  Then it hits me. Everyone's heard about Solomon's daughter Ruby, so he can't very well tell her who I am. Not unless he wants to march me back to my cell.

  Dr. Flores puts a hand on her hip. “Mílagro, you're from the Unmarked, no? How's your sister suddenly standing next to you in the street all the way down here in Galveston?”

  “I had no idea she was coming.” Sam puts an arm around me, and pats my shoulder. “I guess there's trouble back home, with the Marked. You've heard the suppressant is failing, I assume.”

  “You never mentioned a sister.” Dr. Flores arches one eyebrow. “Not in many hours of conversation.”

  Many hours? I clench one han
d into a fist and stifle the desire to punch the perfectly groomed physician who nursed Sam back to health. I should be thanking her, but that's not happening anytime soon.

  Sam shrugs. “We weren't that close growing up.”

  I grit my teeth. That hits a little too close to home.

  Dr. Flores smiles at me, but it's forced. “Who's this man with her?”

  Sam sighs. “That's her boyfriend, Wesley. He came with her to find me. He's more like a puppy than a boyfriend, honestly. I'm always tripping over him.” Sam bares his teeth in what I believe he thinks resembles a smile.

  Judging by the smile on Wesley's face, he's really enjoying this. I wish I found it half as funny as he does. “We were so worried about you, Sam. Rhonda literally cried herself to sleep every night, snuggled up next to me. In fact, she had a nightmare about you once. I calmed her down eventually, but I don’t think she’s ever curled quite so close to me.” Wesley’s smile splits his face. He waves brightly at Dr. Flores. “It’s wonderful to meet you. How fantastic that dear old Sam had such an attractive physician to take care of him.”

  “Your girlfriend doesn't look much like her brother, does she?” Dr. Flores looks from Sam to me and back again. “She’s so small and pale.”

  “I’ve always thought they look strange together,” Wesley agrees.

  “She does look awfully familiar to me,” Dr. Flores says. “You said you both came from the Unmarked settlement in Mississippi? Has she ever visited World Peace Now? I feel like I’ve seen her at some point.”

  I hate when people talk about me like I’m not even present. I narrow my eyes at her, but she's got to be thinking of my mother. We look so much alike, I should have known people would recognize it. What if she won’t let it go?

  “I’ve never been here before,” I say.

  Dr. Flores raises one eyebrow. “It really feels like I’ve seen you somewhere.”

  I panic, but Wesley winks at me.

  “She and Sam don’t look much alike, and they weren’t close mostly because,” he lowers his voice and Dr. Flores leans in to hear him. “no one talks about it much, but they have different fathers.” Wesley smirks. “Sam’s dad is kind of a big deal with the Unmarked, you know.” Wesley whistles. “But Rhonda’s dad, well, he’s small and somewhat unimpressive after Sam’s father. Everyone was surprised. It was kind of a scandal.”