The Book of Eva: Clone, Book One

by Paxton Summers

  Dante caught her wrist and spun around, pulling her arm over her head and behind her back. He shoved her into the wall, holding her pinned in that spot. The blood pumped from the cut. His heart beat against her shoulder, the heat of his naked chest seeped into her. Lips pressed to her ear. “Enough.”

  She turned her face to the side, resting her cheek against the wall. “You drugged me.”

  “I had to.”

  “Why? Why would you betray me?” She wanted to cry, but the tears would not come.

  “I wanted to set you free.” Dante let go and stepped back. “I needed to remove the chip.”

  She turned around, this time mindful of her lacerated foot and the sharp slivers scattered across the floor. “It’s gone?”

  Dante sank onto the bed. He nodded and smiled. “You’re free, Eva.”

  “Just like that? It’s gone?”

  “Yes.” His normally stoic face held an emotion, if for but a fleeting second. It held sadness. Dante had set her free. He’d given her the chance to run, to have everything she’d ever wanted.

  He glanced down at the puddle of blood she stood in. “Sit down. Let me fix your foot.”

  She walked over to the bed and sat, mind and body detached, too stunned to do or say anything else. He’d freed her. It hurt. It hurt worse than the pain in her foot. It hurt worse than the throbbing in her head. This feeling, drilled through her heart. He didn’t want her.

  He tore the edge of her sheet and wrapped it around her wound, tying the ends together to secure it. “That should hold until I can get you to the medical facility.”

  “Why would you do this?” She was a clone. A nobody from the day she was created. She didn’t even have a birthday to celebrate, or a life to look fondly back on in her old age.

  “I can’t let him continue. His intentions are no better than the leaders of Aeropia. He’s touched you for the last time.” Dante dropped his chin to his chest. The next words came out in a hoarse whisper. “I can’t bear the thought of him doing it again. Touching you. I swear I didn’t know. Forgive me.”

  She swallowed the knot that formed in her throat. Never had she been asked for forgiveness. He cared. She reached over and skimmed her fingers along his shoulder. When she ran, they would discover he had freed her. When she ran, he would die.

  Eva had been the key piece to the revolution. His betrayal would not be looked at lightly. When he removed the chip, he’d sentenced himself. He’d given his life for her and all he asked in return was her forgiveness. She, the clone. She, the worthless. She, the soulless. “Dante.”

  He looked up, studying her.

  “I did not start this revolution, but I am going to finish it. I need your help.” She would not abandon him. Eva reached out and touched his face. “But not as he would have it.”

  He nodded and pulled closer, sliding an arm around her. Slowly, he lowered her to the mattress. “Let me love you now. We have no idea what tomorrow will bring.”

  8

  Around six in the morning, Dante rolled out of bed and pulled on his pants, creeping softly for the door. He must have believed she was still asleep, but she had not slept once during the night. They’d made love several times and talked as he held her cradled against his chest. After he drifted off, she’d listened to his breathing and enjoyed the warmth enveloping her. She would not be able to sleep for days.

  Dante shut the door behind him. Eva smiled and rolled over, wrapping the torn sheet around her. She felt joy for the second time in her life, and nothing could destroy the high. She climbed to her feet, in need of the privy, and started down the hall.

  Light poured out from under the director’s door. Muffled voices. She crept closer and pressed her ear against it. Not so much because it was curious that anyone would work at this hour, but that the voice on the other side she recognized.

  “Does she believe it’s gone?” That voice she knew just as well. It was a voice that chilled her. Michael Axis.

  “Yes.”

  Dante? Her insides twisted and everything in her stomach rose to the back of her throat. Did she believe?

  “Will she do it? Will she take part? I want to be sure. Will she do everything you ask? We can’t take chances she will become suicidal and go against me.”

  “She will for me.”

  No. Eva cupped her hand over her mouth. Footsteps approached the door. Glancing down the hall, she bolted for the privy, shutting the door behind her. She ran for the stall and heaved into the bowl, gagging until empty. Once she caught her breath, she staggered upright. Sharp pains drove through her chest. It hurt worse than any beating she’d ever received. She’d been a fool to trust, to care. Why had she believed Dante would be different, that he could love her?

  All her life, she’d been told she did not matter. Regret pulsed through her body. She wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard what she had. She wanted to matter.

  Eva explained the takeover, the movement of pieces on the game board and the day it all began. I feigned indifference, although my heart pounded with each word she spoke. More than one queen fought to control the board. I should be careful, lest I find myself in checkmate. Until I uncovered her ultimate motive, I dared not reveal the trump card I alone held.

  She walked to the window and stared out. Beams from the setting sun washed over her face, illuminating her features as though they were afire. A halo of light surrounded her, and her honey-colored hair glowed with warmth. In that moment, she could have been my mother. So beautiful. So distant.

  “I hated coming back here.” She pressed her palm to the glass and continued with her story. “But I was willing to do anything to see my dream materialize.”

  The smell of salt permeated the night. The vapor thickened into a dense fog. It filled the docks and cloaked the town in a soft sheet of fishy mist. The harbor town where they’d disembarked was on the opposite side of Aeropia, the other side of the capital.

  She glanced around, waiting for Dante. He’d come along for the mission. They were to go into a compound and provide a distraction while another agent obtained codes to the belts the clones wore. General Axis would hold Aeropia hostage once he had them. Power corrupted, and Michael would have more than a fair portion of it.

  What Dante and Eva did would also cause a deeper rift between my father and mother. In theory, a house divided would not stand. My father had his loyalists, my mother hers. It wouldn’t take much to crumble the fragile foundation Aeropia’s seat of power rested upon.

  The United Regions were clueless I’d already taken what they wanted and the codes were not in the control center—they never had been, and it had played out to my advantage. My father trusted no one. Without his knowledge, I’d changed them—committed treason, but didn’t care. The UR believed the takeover of the station was the final obstacle to surmount. They were wrong. My single act of sedition had prevented them from taking Aeropia that day. I held control of the empire.

  Eva turned her chin as footsteps came down the ramp, letting her gaze rest on Dante, who held a briefcase and was escorted by two other men.

  “Are you ready?”

  Her only answer, a nod. They walked by and took the lead. She followed quietly, ready to put her own plan into action. Not only did she intend to gain control of the clone’s security girdles, but she also intended to release them—not hand them over along with Aeropia as General Axis had instructed her to do.

  “When we get to the presidential glider, you are to sit on the right side. We’ll pull up next to the guard post, and you’re going to need to roll the window down and order them to let us through. General Axis has already warned them of your visit, so it’s not unexpected.”

  She remained silent, rolling her plan around in her head.

  “Eva? Did you hear me?” He glanced over his shoulder. His green eyes looked black in the salty darkness of the harbor.

  “Yes.”

  “They’re going to take us on a tour of the facilities. Do you remember the plan, wh
at we have to do?” One of the clones who stood next to Dante would open the doors. The mole’s keeper was one of the scientists who often worked late nights. The real scientist had been detained. Actually, a couple of bolts in his head had detained him permanently.

  The clone would step into the shoes of his deceased keeper, insuring the plan stayed on schedule and the high ground remained in the United Region’s control. From there, all stones they cast downhill would pick up speed. Every ripple they created in the revolutionary pond would build. It was the point of no return.

  Aeropia would never see it coming.

  It felt like the motorcade had traveled for miles, though the distance was less than a few city blocks. As the vehicle slowed and pulled up to the sentries guarding the gate, she glanced over at Dante, who nodded. They glided to a stop, and she rolled down the window.

  “Madame Braun here to…”

  The guards waved the entourage through, snapping to attention as they passed, stiff like lead soldiers and as void of expression as she’d been of emotion.

  She glanced back, watching the checkpoint disappear into the night. Uneasiness settled onto her. One misspoken word, one wrong move, all they’d accomplished would be for nothing. “This is foolish. They’ll know.”

  Dante grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “They won’t.”

  * * *

  Eva grabbed the lapels of her trench coat and pulled them closed. The station had been told it was an inspection. She felt odd in the foreign garments, clothes she wouldn’t have dared to touch, let alone wear, when she’d lived under her keeper’s roof. Now she dressed like a queen. No, she dressed like a dictator. Leather boots laced to just above her knees with heels that added three inches to her height. They would be difficult to run in if the need arose, but she’d been assured it wouldn’t be necessary.

  Her long skirt draped almost to the ground, keeping the chill from wrapping around her legs. Icy air whipped around her ankles, biting at the boots like an angry dog, unable to get through.

  Commanding this kind of power could become an addiction, and Eva now understood how hard it could be to let go of control. She’d liked to be the one who decided the fates of others, the one who could point her finger and condemn anyone to death without speaking a word.

  Dante held his arm out, and Eva took it. He helped her up the slippery stairs. The chilly air caught his scent and wafted it under her nose, something that normally comforted her. Now, it reminded her of betrayal.

  Oh, how she’d loved him, or at least thought she had. But it would not serve her well to dwell on past feelings when he needed to die. She entered the building and more soldiers snapped to at a shout of attention.

  A man with a chest full of brass and boots so glossy she could see her reflection in them stepped forward. He clicked his heels together and bowed. “Madam.”

  She merely nodded. Ana would never lower her standards to speak with anyone below her station, unless absolutely necessary. She, too, was a product of her society and its expectations. Ones Eva must fit and play the role to perfection, if the coup were to be a success.

  Dante spoke for her. “Madam wishes to tour the facility, inspect the security and staff.”

  “Yes.” The officer cleared his throat and jerked his head at his executive officer. “What are you waiting for? Help her with her coat.” The man scrambled over to her and reached for it. Eva clamped down on the luxurious cashmere.

  “I’d rather not. It’s a bit chilly in here,” she said to Dante. Chill had nothing to do with her reluctance. She didn’t want to let it go. It caressed her and made her feel shielded from the eyes of others.

  “Contact environmental and get the heat on,” the officer barked.

  Dante reached down and laced his fingers into hers, squeezing gently through the glove as though to offer comfort. She pulled free, and he captured her hand again. “We would like to tour without an escort,” he said.

  The station commander’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He glanced left and then right. “Leave us!” He clapped and soon he, Dante, and Eva stood alone in the room.

  Dante reached into his pocket and drew out a folded paper. “Everyone. You understand. Madam needs to form her own opinions without biased input.”

  The officer’s eyes narrowed. “This is completely outside of protocol. She should have security wherever she goes.”

  “And that’s why I’m here.” Dante handed him the paper. “I will make sure she remains safe. She is safe here, is she not?”

  The man glanced down at the document and back up. His mouth formed a tight line, but he said nothing. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his eyes darted back and forth between Dante and herself, as though he’d been caught doing something he didn’t want them to see, that leaving them alone would put him at risk. Little did he know he’d been in jeopardy since they’d entered his facility.

  “Problem?” Dante cleared his throat.

  “No. It’s just—irregular,” he said. The officer stared at Dante for several seconds before he gave a salute, spun on his heel, and strode from the room.

  “He’s going to confirm that document.” Eva whispered.

  “Indeed, and he’ll find it’s a forgery, and the president will order him to watch us.” Dante gave her hand another squeeze. “With the attention on us, the control room will be overlooked until our contact hacks into the system.” He turned her around and stared down into her eyes. “I’ve missed you, was worried if you were okay. It will be over soon. You’ll be free. We can run away, start over without anyone controlling us.”

  He’d spoken such sweet lies. She’d wanted to believe them, and for the moment Eva forced herself to. Remembering the good times, she reached up and ran her fingers over his cheek. He’d confessed what he was the night he’d sealed his fate by deceiving her, but it did not make her feel any differently. Eva still loved him.

  “Here?” She asked. Her stomach somersaulted and heat brewed within her. So desperately she’d wanted to be wrong. No man could replace him. She wanted his touch, his kiss, even if it was a part of the mission.

  Betrayal bred dissension. No one had to tell her that. My father suspected Ana slept with another man. And if the Institute’s intelligence held together, the president had been watching her, and he’d accused her of it in the past. I had never witnessed my mother cheating, but then again, I didn’t see her much.

  The infidelity sat as a raw bone between my parents. My father had even accused her of fathering me with another man. I’d heard him say over and over, when nobody thought I listened, I wasn’t his child. Perhaps she had been with someone else. I could not blame my mother. My father wandered, flaunted it in her face. Most of the time he ignored her. She’d been desperately lonely.

  “Here?” she asked again.

  Dante captured Eva’s wrist and placed her palm against his. “Yes.” He glanced up at the camera. “They will think it’s her.” The pad of his thumb stroked along her lower lip. She knew why he’d come with her, why he’d insisted on escorting her alone—why he’d glanced up at the cameras to make sure they’d been activated. “For a moment, can you be her?”

  It hurt. His words sliced like a razor. She’d wanted to be her all her life, yet it didn’t stop her stomach from twisting. She did not want Dante to touch her, did not want to share.

  Dante leaned in and captured her lips. She closed her eyes and absorbed his heat, opening her mouth to him. Eva loved him, even if she didn’t trust him, and the public scandal would only be the beginning.

  He hadn’t been placed here by accident. Stephen was my father’s best friend, trusted advisor, and second in line, a man the United Regions needed to have out of their way before Eva could seize control of Aeropia. Dante and Stephen were so close in appearance, one could say they were twins, or Dante was his clone, yet Dante was two years younger and sired with a different mother. Stephan never acknowledged their kinship, only referring to him as
the bastard. I had only glimpsed Dante once, outside the gates as Stephen argued with him. It wasn’t hard to understand how one could be mistaken for the other.

  Friend or not, my father would put Stephan to death, even if he was guilty of the same indiscretions and sins. It wouldn’t take much. Especially if he’d already suspected my mother was having an affair, and then to discover it was his friend and closest confidant. He was the one man my father trusted, and the rift would further tear the country apart. My father and Stephan spent a great deal of time drinking and womanizing together. I’d seen them and didn’t miss much.

  My father would complain about my mother and her whorish ways, never looking to his own deeds. I often heard my parents argue about her cheating when they didn’t think anyone could hear them. Furniture and objects were smashed in his fits of temper. Yet he kept a whore in her house, labeled her his aide, and dared my mother to point her finger.

  The Institution’s intelligence came straight from Carmen, his mistress, who’d been privy to many personal conversations and had engaged in pillow talk. As Eva spoke, I realized it wouldn’t have taken much to ignite his suspicions and turn them in to full blown rage toward his friend. Their plan was ingenious, except I was a step ahead of them.

  Once Stephen was gone, the Institute could assassinate my father, leaving my mother the only one in line for his office. The term president was only to give the appearance of a democratic society. Aeropia was a dictatorship. The United Regions plotted a takeover, but so did Eva, and the blood that would run before it was over would make the Great War fade in comparison. But there was a problem with their plan.

  Me. I alone had control, but nobody was aware of it yet.