He winces. “Ouch.”
“Such a great actor, as always,” I say, remembering the kiss we almost—but didn’t—share. Just another reason to be annoyed with him right now. “Don’t pretend you really care.”
“Oh, I don’t.” He stops and pulls his shoe off, tipping it upside down so a pebble falls out. “I was reacting to a rock in my shoe.” He slips it back on, then looks at me. Grins. “I couldn’t give a jackal’s nuts about yours and Forest’s suffocating feelings for each other. Have you already forgotten? I was taking bets on your death in the prison just over a month ago, plus I turned you in to the chief, so double points for me.”
I wince. After his apology and our heartfelt conversation in the cavern just weeks ago, I can’t believe he’d bring that baggage up again.
“Already becoming your arrogant Patrician self, I see,” I say.
His smile stiffens.
“It’s good to be reminded how cruel you really are,” I continue. “It helps keep reality in check.”
His smile vanishes completely. “Don’t blame me for the reappearance of my Patrician side. You’re the one who got me in this shoddy mess.”
I cross my arms and walk faster, fighting off the guilt gnawing at me for getting him in this mess.
We pick up one of the vehicles in the parking garage. Everyone except me has their fancy white guns out, just in case a surprise attack occurs. I’ve no idea how to work one, although Walker insists I learn.
These vehicles are the only evidence the Resurgence is in Louisville. This is where the Defenders would attack if they found us. But the streets are quiet, abandoned, and empty. We pile into an old van, them placing me in the middle, treating me like I’m already the chief.
The drive is long and quiet. And I’m tired. I wrap the blanket we packed around myself, lay my head on Digory’s shoulder, and doze off into a deep sleep.
***
When I wake up, we’re on the outskirts of Ky. The snow hasn’t reached this part of the country. I can just barely make out the Community Garden, a small patch of brown with no buildings. My heart squeezes. I wish we could go back, if only for a visit. I would much rather go there than Frankfort. But we have a plan to execute. I look ahead as we travel deeper into the city. To avoid suspicion, we take the long way to Frankfort, entering through the cupola from the south side. The same road Rain took to get us out exactly two weeks ago.
Though it’s night, I can almost tell the difference in the air surrounding our vehicle when we cross through the cupola. We roll the windows down and allow the wonderful seventy-two degrees to drift in. A sweet, spring scent fills the air.
We stop at the church, and Rain and I split from the group. I squeeze Elijah one more time.
“Stay safe,” I whisper, swallowing the tightness in my throat.
“I’ll be fine, Ember.”
I pull back and smile through my tears. “Of course you will.”
“Come on, Ember,” Rain says, clearly irritated. “Gotta hurry.”
Rain and I make the rest of the way on foot, traveling deeper into the heart of Frankfort through the backroads. The cloak of night creeps over the city. I’m suddenly nervous and sick all at once. Because this city has tried to kill me. Three times. It’s not exactly a place I associate with safety and glory, as the rest of Ky sees it.
By the time we arrive at Main Street, it’s pretty late. The bars and restaurants are alive with people, even at this late hour. Because Frankfort never sleeps. We arrive at the park, and I’m brutally reminded of my failed attempt to kill Titus. He arrested me instead. Told me my family was dead. When all this time they were in the ashen city.
Then Rain leads me to the Frankfort Hotel. And I stop in my tracks.
“Um, Rain?” I ask. “Why are we going in there? I mean, can’t we find another place to rest our heads? Like, um, your house?”
He rolls his eyes. “We’re not here to sleep, little apple-picker. There’s someone we need to see.” He leads me around to the back of the hotel, then down an alleyway, and knocks twice on an old wooden door. It creaks open, and a lady I recognize steps out.
“LeighAnn?” I ask. The lady who worked as my maid during my stay here. She dressed me and cooked for me and basically took on a role of a mother. She wears the same horn-rimmed glasses, and her peppery hair is pulled back in a tight bun.
“Miss Carter.” She bows her head formally at me. I’m more surprised that she knows exactly who I am without all my makeup on. But then, she was the one who put my makeup on, so she probably knows what I look like better than anyone here.
“LeighAnn,” Rain says. “Glad we caught you.”
To my utter astonishment, Rain leans in and embraces her. Rain, the arrogant prick, is hugging a lowly maid. But then, didn’t he say she was like a mother to him, too, when she worked as a maid in his house? Because his mother was basically absent.
“Come in, come in,” LeighAnn says in her bright, sing-song voice. I wonder how she can sound so chipper at this ungodly hour. She opens the door wider for us and we step into a small, sparse living room. After she closes the door, she turns to look at us. “Please, sit down. What brings you here?”
Rain sits on a worn couch, and I accept the seat beside him.
“We just returned from Louisville,” Rain says.
Her eyes widen a fraction. “And? Everything okay?”
She must know about the Resurgence, because she doesn’t seem surprised at all that we just returned from the ashen city.
“Everything’s fine,” Rain says. “Plans are in motion. We just need a little help making this urchin look a less like herself and a bit more…Patrician.” He gestures toward me. “I know it’s nearly impossible—”
I roll my eyes.
“—but you’ve done your magic before.”
“Of course, of course.” LeighAnn opens another door. “When do you need her dressed by?”
“Tonight, if possible.”
“Very possible. Come, Miss Carter. I’ll make you look even more beautiful than your dopplegänger.”
“About that,” Rain says, following us into a tiny bathroom. “Can you make her look…different? I mean, we don’t want to cause confusion, and we definitely don’t need a target on our backs. We don’t even want the chief to know she’s back.”
“Ah yes. Perhaps a haircut is in order, then.”
“A haircut?” I look at Rain in alarm.
“Whatever you need to do,” Rain says with a smirk.
I whirl around and look at LeighAnn. “I can’t cut my hair. I’ve always had long hair.” I pull it over my shoulder and stroke it, all the way down to the ends that reach my waist.
“Your hair is beautiful, Miss Carter, and a woman must always treasure it.” She pauses and looks at me. “But is it worth risking suspicion? Very few women have hair as long as yours, and you need as few similarities to the Ember look-alike as you can get. A simple hair cut can fix that.” She turns and pulls a comb and scissors out of a drawer. “Unless you want Titus to find you.”
I sigh in resignation. “Fine. Do what you need to do.”
“Perfect. Have a seat.”
I hunker down on a stool while she wraps a towel around my shoulders, then I close my eyes while she wets my hair down. I don’t know how short she’s going to trim it, until I hear the scissors snip right next to my ear. My heart sinks. I feel like a piece of me is being chipped away with every lock of hair she snips, but I suck it up and let her do her magic. Because my life kind of depends on it.
And so does the future of Ky.
She snips, snips, snips, all the while asking Rain about the Resurgence and giving him the lowdown here in Frankfort, while simultaneously asking him to pass her the squirt bottle and the scissors and whatever other tools she needs to change my appearance. He’s as natural talking to LeighAnn as he was at the Resurgence.
When she finishes, she opens a bottle and lathers some ointment into my hair, then she and Rain step out
of the bathroom and I step into the shower. It’s amazing how light my head feels now, how light I feel. The shampoo rinses out quickly. I grab a towel and step out of the shower. But when I look in the mirror, I almost jump.
Because the girl looking back at me looks entirely different. I mean, she’s not me. At. All. My hair—it’s not brown anymore. I mean, the roots are, but the tips are, like, red. The deepest red of a crimson sunset. And, being wet and short as it is, it spikes off in odd directions, so my hair literally looks like it’s on fire.
I hate it.
Rain’s and LeighAnn’s voices drift in from the other room. Pressing my ear against the door, I listen closely.
“How’s my little Kate?” LeighAnn asks.
“She’s doing better than ever. The Fearless Five—er—Six are in town, so I’m sure she’ll stop by sometime this week.”
“Oh, so good to hear. I’ve missed her.”
I gently turn the knob, but I don’t open it more than an inch. I still don’t have any clothes to wear.
“LeighAnn?” I call.
“Yes, dear?”
“Um…I need…clothes.”
“Ah, yes. Of course.” She steps in a moment later with an ivory toga. “This was going to be tossed away by one of the Patricians because of a simple rip on the seam,” she says. “But I sewed it up. I knew it would come in handy someday.” She fastens it up my back, and I already miss my cargo pants and bulletproof vest.
“Now for contacts,” LeighAnn says.
“Contacts?”
“Yes. To change the color of your eyes. I think green would look good.”
I think of Titus’s green eyes and cringe, but allow her to teach me to put them in. They feel gritty and irritating, but after a few blinks I can hardly tell they’re there.
Finally, she brushes light makeup over my face. “No Patrician leaves their home without makeup on, no matter the time of day. Now have a seat.”
I sit down on the stool, and she styles my hair so the short ends wisp out.
A light knock sounds at the door. “You guys done yet?”
“You can come in,” LeighAnn says.
Rain steps in, then stops short. His eyes widen a fraction, and he gives out a low whistle. “I don’t think there will be any confusion,” he says. “I hardly recognized you.”
I’m about to snap in defense, but the look in his eyes tells me that was a compliment. He walks closer, looking at me like someone who might be looking at the sun for the very first time. Then he hunches in front of me and runs his hand lightly over my hair. He tips my chin up as his gaze wanders over my lips, my nose, my brows. And every inch of me melts beneath his appraising gaze. I’m a puddle of melted butter, and all I can do is sit here, allow Rain to study me, because my muscles suddenly don’t know how to work, and my mouth doesn’t know how to speak, and I’m a hot mess of raging emotions and confusing feelings.
Finally, his eyes settle on my mine, and I have to catch my breath, because I think I see something in those gray eyes—something warm and full of need and want—and I think I have those same exact feelings, but I would never admit them out loud, because this is Rain. So I swallow my words down. He presses his lips together, his throat convulsing as he, too, swallows, and, for a brief instant, I think he’s going to kiss me right here in front of LeighAnn.
But then he releases my chin too abruptly, stands, and turns toward LeighAnn.
“Excellent work, LeighAnn.” He smirks and looks back at me. “She looks exactly like every other snotty Patrician in Frankfort.”
All warm emotions vanish in cool whirlwind of rage. My teeth grind together. Why do I always let Rain have such power over my emotions? Why do I let him play me like a shoddy fiddle?
We say goodbye to LeighAnn, then walk back around the hotel toward Main Street. I carry a satchel holding my old clothes. I’ll need to put them back on when we leave Frankfort. I shove down any feelings I thought I had for Rain and pretend like absolutely nothing intimate almost happened.
Again.
“So…LeighAnn knows everything?” I ask, thrusting my hands behind my back.
“Yep. Well, as much as you know, anyway.”
I frown. What’s that supposed to mean? How much more is there to know? “And she knows Kate?”
“Kate’s her daughter. Before Kate turned sixteen and got brainwashed, Walker took her to the Resurgence. LeighAnn wanted her daughter to join the rebel group instead of getting some lowly, depressing career.” He pauses, looks down at me like he wants to tell me something but isn’t sure if he should. Then he shrugs and says, “LeighAnn is the one who told me about the Resurgence.”
“Really?” Wow. LeighAnn was a part of the rebel group before Rain.
“Yes,” he say as we continue walking. “You remember I told you she used to work in my father’s household?”
“Yes. You said she was more like your mother than your real mother was.”
“Yes. She was. We were…close. She taught me about the injustices of the government, told me about the Resurgence, about the antitoxin, and about the tribes who live outside of Ky. That’s why I know so much. Then, just two years ago, she got permission from my parents to visit her family in the city for a few days. Mother suggested I go with her. I guess having no mother-figure around for me to pester made her uneasy. She’d rather me be gone than feel the pressure of actually parenting me.” I note the bitter edge in his voice. “What Mother didn’t know was that LeighAnn wasn’t actually going home. She went to Louisville and took me with her. That was the first I met Walker. And it was when I took the oath and officially became a part of the Resurgence. Walker gave me my first assignment, which was, of course, to act as a spy in my father’s house—a house full of politicians.”
“So you had your first assignment at age fourteen?”
“Yes. It was my choice, though. I wanted to help.”
“Just like Elijah. He’s so young, only thirteen, and I seriously think this is all too much for him, that he should stay sheltered just a little bit longer. But he refuses.”
“Elijah isn’t a child, Ember,” Rain says. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions. And if you want him to continue trusting you, you need to trust him. You need to let him go.”
I look at him, surprised at his sudden defense of my little brother. But maybe he’s right. Maybe I do need to understand that Elijah is growing into a man.
We arrive at the main road and Rain hitches a cab. It’s morning now. The tangerine sunrise casts odd shadows across the city. Amazing how much can happen in one night. But I’m quickly learning that time is irrelevant. A minute can stretch for eternity. An hour can pass in the snap of a finger. The pace all depends on how big the next event is or if there is an event at all.
By the time we arrive at the Turner mansion, it’s an early, sunny morning in Frankfort. And I’m infinitely grateful for the sun after two weeks stuck in that dark cavern. A maid opens the door. She looks at me first, frowns, then looks at Rain.
“Mister Turner,” she whispers in obvious shock. She bows and opens the door wider, but her gaze remains glued on his worn clothes, a hint of disapproval weaving in and out of her eyes. “Your father has been worried about you.”
“That’s surprising,” Rain says. “He was never concerned before.”
We step in and she closes the door behind us.
“Colleen, I would like you to meet––” His eyes catch mine, and for a brief moment, panic sets in, because despite all our planning, I have no name. But then he winks, smothers a smirk, and says, “Flame Waters.”
Flame Waters? What kind of pathetic name is that? One that Rain carries around in his back pocket, apparently.
“How do you do, Miss Waters?” Colleen asks.
“Fine,” I say.
“She’ll be staying with us for a few days,” Rain says. “And we’ve just had one hell of a night. So if you can take her straight up to the guest room, that would be great.” He releases my arm
and passes me off to Colleen like unwanted baggage.
“Wait,” I say. “Where are you going?”
He offers his signature Patrician smirk. The one I haven’t seen in over a week. The one that I loathe. “I’ve got to get cleaned up, and then there’s business to attend to. The day is only just beginning, Miss Waters, and there’s work to be done.” With a curt nod, he whirls around and disappears down one of the many halls.
How can he stay awake after the night we just had? No wonder he has so many migraines. Letting out a resigned sigh, I follow Colleen up a circular staircase, then down a long hall.
“Is Forest here?” I ask. Maybe I’ll finally get the answer to the question that has been burning in my mind since I left Frankfort.
“Not currently. He is out with his father, attending affairs.”
A wave of relief washes over me. “So he really is still working for Titu––for Chief Whitcomb?”
She glances at me curiously. “But of course. Why wouldn’t he be?”
Of course. No one knows about the true events that took place just before I left. All the population knows is that Ember Carter has been living in the city this whole time acting like a snotty Patrician, and Forest is still dating her.
Supposedly.
Finally, Colleen opens a white door to a bedroom the size of my old house.
“Make yourself comfortable. Breakfast is in an hour, lunch at noon, dinner at six. I’ll have someone come up and start the fire soon.” She bows and leaves the room.
I glance across the room at the giant fireplace. A mural of a raging sea hangs above the mantle. To my left is a four-poster bed large enough to fit a small family. Tiny lights wrap around the posts. The opposite wall is made entirely of glass, looking out at the city of Frankfort. The tall buildings glimmer and shine in the sunlight. But I’m not fooled. Frankfort might be the most beautiful part of Ky. But within, it’s dead and corrupt, full of snotty Patricians. Louisville is more alive than Frankfort when it comes to its citizens.
Depleted, I make my way to the bed, flop on my stomach, and allow the plush white comforter to swallow me.
ashen city (Black Tiger Series Book 2) Page 15
