“I should stay.” I force an apologetic smile. “I should probably hear what Rain has to say.”
His mouth drops open. He takes a step back, and the look in eyes shreds my heart into five million pieces.
“Fine,” he says numbly. “I need to go to work. I’ll see you this afternoon.” He walks out the door without looking back. And I realize I’m going to have to endure eight painful hours thinking up something to say to ease his fractured pride when he gets home.
But Rain isn’t wasting any time as he drains his coffee and crosses one leg over the other. “Welp, apple-picker, today’s the big day.”
“It is?”
“Yep. In exactly one hour, you and I, Flame-girl, will finally get to see Titus face to face.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“I’m going to actually see Titus?” I squeak. “In one hour? Are you out of your mind? Does he even know I’m here?”
“Oh, I told him everything.”
“You WHAT?”
Oh. Oh no. It’s his betrayal all over again.
He grins. “I told him you were here with me. Come on, Ember. You really didn’t think he would suspect anything? You and I disappeared from Ky at the same time. Obviously he wants me dead. But this was my leverage. I told him I brought you back. I told him that for his forgiveness, I would hand you over.”
And the wind is knocked out of my lungs.
I didn’t realize getting stabbed in the back a second time could hurt worse than the first. Like a thousand feet stomping into my back until I’m bruised and broken and have no one left to trust.
Rain isn’t my friend. He brought me here so he could turn me in to Titus. So he could use me as leverage. So he could be forgiven for helping me. Whose side is he really on, anyway? Who’s the actor, Resurgence Rain or Frankfort Rain? Will he turn in the Resurgence, too? My eyes are suddenly burning, my head pounding with sudden hatred, and I want nothing more than to rip out Rain’s esophagus with my bare hands.
I open my mouth to dispel a string of curses on his head when he casually begins buttering his toast and says, “Once you’re alone with Titus, you can say whatever you wish. Get answers about your real father. Figure out how he constructed Fake Ember. You know. Have some serious sibling bonding time.” He stops buttering and pins me with those gray eyes. “Then me and the Furious Six—or whatever ridiculous name you want to call them—will come to your rescue.”
“Y-you’re not betraying me?”
He gives a firm shake of his head. “You’ll have ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes…with Titus?”
“Yes.” He takes a bite of his toast. “Is that enough time?”
“To…bond?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t…really want to spend any time with Titus.”
Rain rolls his eyes. “Well, I need you to do it. For me. For what I’m about to do.”
“But…like…what if he tries to kill me?”
“Are you serious?”
“He tried to do it before.”
“Yeah, but that was for show. He had the upper hand. But if you catch him by surprise, I don’t think he’s just going to kill you.”
“But you just said you’re handing me over to him. He’s expecting me.”
“Oh. Yeah. I did say that, didn’t I?” He smirks. “I guess you don’t have the element of surprise. Forget everything I said. Hopefully he doesn’t try to kill you.”
My heart rate spikes. “And if he does?”
He shrugs, takes another bite of toast. “I guess we won’t have to go out of our way to save your shoddy behind.”
My jaw drops.
“What are you waiting for?” Rain asks. “Our meeting is in an hour. It takes fifteen minutes to get there, and you’re not even dressed.”
I open my mouth to respond but he speaks first. “Go!”
Jackal. Just to spite him, I lift my mug and drain my hot chocolate. I notice as I swallow that last drop, that there’s writing on the bottom of the mug. I pull the mug away from my lips and read the inscription: Loophole.
That’s all it says, but that one word contains a wealth of information. Colleen said it was Mrs. Turner’s orders to bring me this hot chocolate. Rain’s mom had everything set up before I even woke up. This must be what it feels like to be a spy. To be able to read an entire treasonous plan in one scribbled word.
“Seriously?” Rain’s irritated voice brings my head up. “Do you even want the Six to succeed in their mission?”
“O-of course.” Still disoriented, I shove out my chair and hurry up the stairs to my room. Holy Crawford. Mrs. Turner is really counting on me. Rain’s really counting on me. Forest is sort of counting on me. What will happen after the meeting with Titus? No way I can stay here after he sees me. Which means we’ll be leaving. We’ll head back to Louisville.
I didn’t even say goodbye to Forest. And there’s no way I’ll be able to kidnap Fake Ember, I mean, Aurora. Sorry, Mrs. Turner. But not really, because if I lay one finger on Aurora, then I’ll no doubt be shot on the spot.
I strip off my toga, infinitely grateful to be wearing regular clothes again. I pull on my cargo pants, long-sleeved gray shirt, combat boots, and—my personal favorite—bulletproof vest.
I look in the mirror one more time before heading out and groan. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to seeing myself with short, red-tipped hair. It’s just…it’s not me. I miss my long hair. My long, dark hair. And then I think of Fake Ember—Aurora, and how it’s her fault I completely lost my identity. She took my name. She took my looks. And it seems she’s taking my boyfriend, too.
At least this fire-like hair and bulletproof vest make me look tough. I grin.
Rain’s waiting for me downstairs. With his tiger. And I freeze.
“Please don’t tell me that…beast is coming with us.”
He frowns a little. “I need Julius by my side for what I’m about to do.”
I grit my teeth.
“Shall we?” he asks, sticking out his elbow. Rain, ever the Patrician. I link my hand through the crook of his arm, and he walks me out to the vehicle, Julius behind. He opens the door for me, waits for me to climb in, then closes it and opens the back door for his tiger.
“So…why am I meeting with Titus?” I ask as we drive down the street. “I mean, I don’t really need to see him. I don’t really want to see him. Is this some part of a bigger plan? Or are you really using me as leverage and all this is just a trap? Please tell me so I can at least know what to expect.”
“Okay. Fine.” He sighs. “The truth is I’m using you to garner his forgiveness. Because when you and the Fantastic Six leave, I’m staying behind so I can turn his Defenders against him. And I’ll need to be on really good terms with the douche-leader in order to do so. And the reason we’re doing this now—at this very hour—is because we’re using you as a distraction.” He presses his lips together, then says, “The Six found out where the antitoxin is stored, and they’re breaking into the capitol building to get it, and I need you to stall him as long as possible. Preferably longer than ten minutes. Although I know that’s a lot to ask. It’ll probably feel more like ten hours.”
Probably.
“But just remember what we’re doing. What the bigger purpose is. We need the antitoxin to free the people. Your people.” He looks at me. “Okay?”
I shrug. “I suppose I could suffer through a few minutes with my worst enemy for the sake of my people.”
His lips twist into a cold, heartless smile. “Great. You have our deepest gratitude.”
But when we pull up to the capitol building, I completely regret my decision. Because I have nightmares of this place. Bad memories. And I wonder why the shoddy rot I agreed to come.
Two Defenders escort us through the winding halls, up the marble stairs, and into the waiting room. But we don’t wait long before the doors crack open and another Defender gestures for us to go inside. I take a step, but a Defender places his hand
on Rain’s shoulder.
“You stay out here,” he says.
Rain glares at him, then heaves out a sigh and turns to me. He reaches up and squeezes my shoulder. “Good luck,” he says. And his eyes are trying to reassure me but it’s not working. Not working at all. Because I am a dead leaf in the wind. I’m brittle, subject to the mercy of Titus. But I have to be strong. I have to do it for the Resurgence. So I spare one more glance at Rain’s black tiger, straighten my shoulders, turn around, and step into my brother’s office.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The office is exactly how I remember it. Marble floor. Gold desk. Spacious. Sparse. One fireplace on either side of the room, and a large window taking up the wall behind the desk. But there’s no one here. No one sitting at the giant desk. Nothing. My heart beats faster. Harder. It would have been easier to face him head on, to see him on the other side of that desk and know exactly what to expect. But he’s not there, and the room is empty, and I’m really not sure exactly what to do now.
Then something—someone moves in the shadows. In the corner of the room. My muscles tighten around my entire skeleton, and I brace myself for the worst, because this scenario is entirely too familiar to my Black Tiger Test.
I almost turn. I almost race out of the room. But the form steps out, and I realize it’s a human. A girl to be exact. She steps into the light, and I’m looking at myself. My reflection with hazel eyes. She wears a violet toga, and her hair is a cluster of perfect curls dripping down her slender shoulders.
She begins walking toward me, her arms crossed, her Patrician smile carefully in place, her eyes guarded and mocking all at once.
“Nice hair,” is the first thing that slips out of her Patrician mouth.
Nice hair? My hair. It’s short and red and not me. I look down. Humiliated. I almost feel like she stole my beauty. And in a way, she did.
“Well?” she says in my voice. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
I look at her. The shock of seeing her here instead of Titus has left me speechless. “Um…”
“Um? Is that all you’ve got? Um?” She laughs, a simple breath of air forced out of her lungs. “And to think,” she says. “I’m supposed to pretend to be you. I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to act quite so…dumb.”
And my silence is gone. Angry blood consumes my veins and pushes the shock out of my system. I hate this girl standing before me. My clone. The worst part of myself.
I HATE her.
“Aurora,” I say, slowly gaining the upper hand. Her lips part in a gasp, and the surprised look that flits across her features gives me the utmost satisfaction. I link my arms behind my back, lift my chin, slowly walk toward her. Two can play this game. “Aurora—what’s your last name?” I narrow my eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t know it. I mean, you’re not famous, like me. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone speak your name.”
“Except Forest, apparently,” she says, arching a sculpted brow. A ghost of a smile appears on her lips. “He must talk about me often, if you already have my name memorized.”
“He mentioned it. Once. In passing. He was talking about how tortured you are.”
Her smile vanishes, another emotion taking its place. Fear, maybe? Betrayal. Good. I begin walking in a slow circle around her, smell the intoxicating perfumes coming off her violet toga.
“You really have been brainwashing him, haven’t you?” I ask, twisting the dagger. “Making up woeful stories of your past, no doubt. Do you even have a past? When were you created, anyway? And what sort of memories has Titus microchipped into your brain? Is my father a traitor in your eyes? Is my little brother an annoying little brat? Is that how Titus keeps you from running away to them?”
She turns to face me, her green eyes narrowed. “I have no memories of your pathetic little family.”
I stop pacing.
“Everything I know”—she says—“I was taught. But if your fake father stood in this very room, I wouldn’t be able to tell him apart from any other sorry, desperate criminal.”
“How dare you—”
“I know everything about you, Ember Carter,” she continues. “In fact, I know more about you than you do.” She’s walking toward me now. Slowly. My own reflection with a smirk on her face, her eyes dancing with secrets I’m not even sure I want to know.
“I know, for example,” she says. “That your mother worked with the Resurgence. I know that your real father found her and executed her. And I know that Chief Titus Whitcomb, your brother, absolutely hates you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” I shrug. “He’s not my brother by choice after all.”
She stops right in front of me. My exact height. My straight nose. My lips. My cheeks. Except she has a small freckle on her cheekbone. Hm. A flaw in the system, apparently. Except it actually makes her prettier. Our eyes meet. Her green ones. The one physical appearance, besides the freckle, that makes her different from me. It’s like someone has stolen my body and replaced the eyes.
“Of course he’s not your brother by choice,” she says. “Why would you want to share blood with the same boy your mother abandoned? She filled your head with all sorts of lies about him, I’m sure.”
“He’s a monster,” I say. “Why would I want anything to do with him?”
“Monster?” She offers a small laugh. “That’s a harsh thing to say about your chief.”
My breath quickens. “You don’t even know what he’s done, do you? Or maybe you do, and you cheer him on. Maybe, because he’s your creator, he created your mind to be exactly like his. Cruel. Zero humanity. A murderer.”
“My creator?” she asks. “You think he created me?” And she laughs. She laughs and laughs and laughs like I told the funniest joke in the world. I never realized how completely annoying my laugh was. I don’t think I will ever laugh again.
“You’re my clone,” I say. I try to sound confident. I try to sound like I’ve known everything all along. Like Titus wasn’t one step ahead like he always is. “Titus took my blood and created a clone of me, just so he could avoid cleaning up the mess he’d make when he thought he was going to kill me.”
She grins. “Holy Crawford, Ember. You really haven’t figured it out yet? In the two weeks you’ve been gone, you haven’t come up with any other theories? You really don’t know why we look exactly the same?”
I stare at her, uncertain, hating the mockery in her voice. Hating the way she sounds exactly like Titus. She laughs again, shakes her head, her eyes shining with some sick humor.
“You really have zero idea. Wow. Ember, my dear sweet naïve girl. I’m your twin.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
No. Stop. Stop talking. It’s a nightmare. Another terrible nightmare. I don’t have a sister. I don’t have a twin. Nope, nope, nope. Too many secrets have been revealed, and I’ve done a pretty good job keeping myself together, thank you very much.
But THIS.
This is one thing I can’t accept. It’s a lie. She’s a clone, and Titus programmed her to tell me this.
It simply cannot be true.
“Well?” she says, an amused smile carefully placed on her lips. “Say something, sister.”
“I have dreams about you,” is the first incredibly foolish thing that escapes my lips, and by the entertained look in her eyes, I wish I hadn’t said it. “I mean—before I even saw you—I had dreams about a girl who looks exactly like myself, but with green eyes. Like a younger version of my mom. But you—you’re not my sister.”
“No?” she says. “Then explain why we look exactly alike.”
“I’m not stupid.” My voice comes out shakier than I intend, and I clear my throat. “There are hundreds of ways we could look alike without being sisters. This is just another one of Titus’s mind games.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then why—why haven’t I ever seen you? Why hasn’t anyone ever seen you? Or even heard of you? As Titus’s sister, I would think you’d be fam
ous.” I force my lips into a smirk. “If you were Titus’s sister, you wouldn’t have to steal my name to get attention.”
Her smile vanishes. “I don’t want attention or fame. I’ve purposefully avoided it for sixteen years.”
“Then why now? Why do you suddenly decide to step into the spotlight?”
Emotion flickers in and out of her eyes in an instant, and then she says, “Because Titus needs me. Because he needs me to clean up your mess. Because he needs someone to pose as Ember Carter because you’ve made quite the impression in Frankfort. Lord knows why, though.” She gives me a once-over. “You’re terrible at making friends. You’re quite a bore, from what I’ve heard others say about me-slash-you. They tell me how awkward I was and how they’re so happy I can finally open up and be their friend. How incredibly enjoyable I am to be around now. And how happy they are that I’m not moping anymore.”
I grit my teeth and ball my hands into fists and begin to wonder if what she’s saying is true—about her being my twin. Because if she is, why does she get to have the better looks? The unique green eyes? The social personality? Why does she get to make friends so easily when it’s such a struggle for me?
“Where’s Titus?” I finally ask. My ten minutes are almost up and—oh, no. This whole thing was set up as a means to distract Titus. Not my clone-twin. And if he’s not here, then—
The doors burst open. Ten Defenders flood the room, guns carefully aimed at my chest.
“What—what’s wrong?” Aurora asks the Defenders. She looks as startled as me as she grabs one of the Defender’s arms. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve orders to kill the criminal,” he says as the others circle around me.
My heart’s suddenly pounding, and I think, this is it. This is the end. This is how Titus is going to kill me, ten bullets in the chest.
How he must hate me.
“No, wait—” Aurora says, but the Defenders completely ignore her. They’ve been ordered to shoot me. By Titus himself. Because if Titus carries out an order, NO ONE can stand over his instructions. Except me, and I’m outnumbered. But then I hear something. Something I hoped I would never ever hear again.
ashen city (Black Tiger Series Book 2) Page 21
