Saven Disclosure (The Saven Series Book 2)

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Saven Disclosure (The Saven Series Book 2) Page 2

by Siobhan Davis


  I glance at the overhead Commi-Reel as it holographically projects the latest headlines into the sky. “Saven-Amaretti negotiations progressing well. Saven propose withdrawal. No imminent danger.”

  I shake my head. Logan relays a slightly different version in private. According to him, the Amaretti are one of the most-stubborn alien races and they are throwing out more unreasonable demands by the day. While he believes they don’t intend on taking immediate action, if agreement can’t be reached, he firmly expects them to invade.

  The longer this goes on, the longer our separation, so I’ve a vested interest in seeing the negotiations succeed. Logan splits his time between the roadshow-campaign trail and holed up in the Amaretti mother ship, locked in heated debate with the enemy. It doesn’t sound like a picnic. I wish he were here so I could help ease the pressure. I know he’s stressed although he tries to hide it. But it has a way of creeping into his voice, and I know him well enough to tell when he’s deflecting my concern.

  Worries for Logan add to my worries for our world in general.

  Now that the Saven have acquired virtual saintly status, the government has the populace toeing the line again. That’s not to suggest that everything is fine and dandy. Hell no. Tension permeates the air, and most people tend to avoid going out unless it’s absolutely necessary.

  Unless you’re a die-hard alien lover.

  Or a reporter.

  Wheeling the king out on his lonesome would not have had quite the same effect. Add two, young, hot alien princes to the mix, and the world becomes putty in their hands. Logan is by far the more popular, but Dante has his fair share of admirers-slash-stalkers too.

  I guess there’s no accounting for taste.

  “Slut!” someone shouts and kick starts a new round of insults.

  Typical.

  I receive non-stop harassment and abuse while Logan is revered like some adored Rock-Star God. It would be laughable if the risk weren’t so serious. Death threats pour in the door at a steady pace. Haydn ensures I never read any of them, but I can’t overlook the mound of mail heaped at our front door every morning.

  Haydn shoves me around the corner, onto the next block, and his body slightly relaxes beside me. “At least the egg missed you this time.”

  “Oh, yes. What a joyful experience that was,” I deadpan, rubbing my temples in a circular motion.

  “You’re the one who wanted to walk,” he reminds me.

  “I clearly need my head examined.”

  He pulls me into his side and kisses the top of my head. “It’s ridiculous that you can’t walk to work in peace.”

  I shrug. While I agree with the sentiment, there’s not much point in whining. It won’t change a damn thing.

  Jarod is waiting outside the entrance to Government Buildings, as usual. Spotting us, he smiles at me and scowls at Haydn.

  As usual.

  Yanking me into a hug, he messes up my carefully styled hair. I roll my eyes. Haydn extracts me from his embrace, shooting daggers at Jarod, as he smooths my hair back off my face. I smack his hands away. Seriously, what is it with these dudes and their grabby hands? “I’m pretty sure grooming isn’t in your job description either,” I mutter low on my breath.

  “Only trying to help.” Haydn rocks back on his heels, expression unreadable.

  “Thanks for walking me. Have a good day. I’ll see you at five?”

  “I’ll be here.” He does that funny half-bow motion and walks away. Hunched over, he looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world.

  “Haydn?” I call after him. He spins around. “Don’t forget we’re going out for dinner. So, no need to cook up a storm today.”

  “Neve already reminded me. I’ll pick you up later. Bye, Sadie.” He waggles his fingers and I wave back.

  Jarod holds the door open for me, and I walk into the large, impressive tiled lobby. Three massive crystal chandeliers dangle from the ceiling as my high heels tap noisily off the polished marble floors. I smooth my hands over my black skirt suit and tuck in the errant hem of my crisp, white shirt. The VP likes me to look professional, and he even shelled out for an entire new corporate wardrobe. I have to admit to an upsurge in confidence when I’m dressed the part.

  No one was more shocked than I was when Horace Tonnard, our esteemed vice president, handpicked me as his new personal assistant. While I’d love to believe I secured the role on well-earned merit, I can’t help thinking it has more to do with who I’m going out with. I almost turned it down, except for reassurances from the VP that I was hired on ability alone. Still wary, I’ve given him the benefit of the doubt for now.

  G, the rebel leader, is apparently over the moon at my prestigious appointment, or so I’ve been told. Each day, I’ve been nervously waiting to meet him, but so far, I’ve had no involvement with the rebels, and the only intel I have received has been via Jarod. I wish they’d bring me into their confidence sooner rather than later, as it’s a constant source of underlying anxiety.

  I hate keeping secrets, and I hate being kept in the dark.

  And when it comes to protecting humanity’s future, we can’t afford to sit back and wait. Time is a-ticking.

  Jarod ushers me into the back of the elevator ahead of the throng of people. “I almost forgot,” I say, rooting in my book bag. “I made you a muffin.” I hand it to him. “It’s scrummy. You’ll love it.”

  Jarod purses his lips. “The freak made it, didn’t he?”

  I think I need to take a course in deception. I’m excruciatingly brutally transparent. It doesn’t bode well with the things I need to keep hidden.

  “Yes.” I concede defeat, my fingers twiddling with the string of pearls resting at the base of my collarbone. “But that doesn’t mean it’s any less delicious.”

  He places the muffin into my hand. “It’s probably laced with poison.”

  I roll my eyes again. The elevator pings when we reach the fifth floor, and Jarod starts to force his way through. I fist a hand in his shirt and shove the muffin at him. “Take the damned muffin.” I propel him forward. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

  I’m placing my bag in the closet when the VP lands at my desk. “Good morning, Sadie. Here’s my schedule for the day and the list of items I need for each meeting. Can you also please call Commissioner Williams’ secretary. It’s imperative I speak with him immediately.” He hands me two white A4 sheets with his barely legible scrawl smearing the pages.

  “As you wish, sir. I’ll get onto it straightaway.”

  I funnel the call through to the VP and start organizing his meeting paperwork. Mention of Commissioner Williams always brings thoughts of the secret compound in Sector Twenty to the forefront of my mind. It’s the place where our government, in collusion with the Saven king, is experimenting on the lower class to discover exactly how to transfer the conscience from human to alien. Nausea swims up my throat, as it always does whenever I think about what my fellow stars are being subjected to.

  Logan has confirmed that no residents have been transported to the new underwater worker colonies yet, and it’s the one positive side effect of the Amaretti threat. The government is far too busy diverting invasion, and garnering support for the Saven, to focus on their despicable plans for the lower classes. However, it’s only a matter of time before it all kicks off.

  An intense icy chill sinks bone deep at the notion of anything happening to my sister, Ella.

  I’ve only had scant contact with her since I came back to Earth, and I have yet to warn her about the imminent Saven danger. Not wanting to worry her unnecessarily, I haven’t said anything to date, but I think it’s time I brought her up to speed. I make a mental note to talk to Haydn about it later tonight. Irrespective of the threat to my safety, and despite their obvious lack of regard for my welfare, I need to visit my family.

  The morning flies by, and I’m surprised when Jarod appears in my office. We normally meet outside the cafeteria on the tenth floor. “What gives?”

&n
bsp; “Nothing much. I thought I’d escort you to lunch, or is the freak the only one allowed to escort you anywhere?”

  My eyes narrow to slits, but I’m way too tired to argue with Jarod today, so I let the insult pass without remark. I pluck my jacket off the back of my chair and follow him out the door.

  “Did you eat the muffin?” I ask as he punches the button in the empty elevator.

  He avoids my penetrating stare, inadvertently giving the game away. My lips twitch. “Told you it was good.” I stare smugly in front of me.

  “The freak can bake. Yay! Maybe that’s the solution. We can enslave them all and make them cook for us.” He snorts. I pale at the irony. If only he knew.

  The elevator door glides open in the basement, and Jarod steps out, extending his hand to me. “What are we doing in the basement? I thought we were going for lunch?”

  “Step out of the elevator, Sadie, before the door shuts.”

  Jarod’s impatience has me rattled. Something has him on edge. Cautiously, I step out into the dimly lit basement corridor. “What’s going on?” I peer curiously at him.

  He takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. You trust me, right?”

  “Of course, I trust you. This is just a bit cloak and dagger, that’s all.”

  I have an “A-ha” moment at the same time a hand lands on my shoulder and something dark is lowered over my head. My heart accelerates to coronary-inducing proportions, and I lash out on instinct, relying on weeks of Haydn’s skillful guidance. While I don’t have much upper body strength, I have speed and agility, and Haydn has told me to use those traits to my advantage. More like drilled into me, so my reaction happens without conscious thought. Though I’m blindsided, I feel the heat emanating from the body behind me. Twisting around fast, I jerk my elbow into a semi-solid stomach and swing my leg up between a pair of muscular thighs. I kick hard, hitting a fleshy mound. The body crumples to the floor, and a brash masculine cry echoes in the vaulted space.

  Whipping the cloth bag off my head, I turn around, reaching for Jarod. A familiar pair of warm brown eyes meet mine and I stumble back, gasping. “Vin?” I stare wide-eyed at my ex-Adaptation Officer.

  “Hi, Sadie. I see you’ve acquired some new skills.” He looks down at the man writhing around the floor, a slight smirk traversing his mouth.

  “What’s going on?” I ask as Jarod wriggles out of Vin’s hold and removes the bag from his own head. He checks out the guy on the ground and chuckles.

  “Didn’t you explain?” Vin asks Jarod.

  “Nope,” Jarod admits, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “I thought it was best this way.”

  “Great plan,” Vin teases. He sighs as he helps the man sit up on the ground. A pair of dark, almost black, eyes locks on mine. If looks could kill, I’d be ten feet under by now.

  I pin Vin with my most serious look and plant my hands on my hips. “I haven’t received an answer to my question.”

  “We’re taking you to meet G,” Vin says. “This is standard protocol. This knucklehead was supposed to explain it.” He jabs a finger in Jarod’s sternum.

  “Why the ambush?”

  “It’s for security purposes. Very few people know the way to rebel HQ, and only a handful of people know what G looks like. This way no one can betray him or the organization,” Jarod explains.

  Okay, that makes sense, I suppose. “Rebel HQ is in the basement under Government Buildings?” My eyes widen in surprise at the sheer audacity.

  That brings a smile to Vin’s lips. “No.” He shakes his head. “This is our route today because we know you can’t go above ground or meet with us after work, thanks to your perpetual bodyguard. We don’t have much time, so we need to keep moving.” Vin reaches out and helps his colleague up from the floor.

  The man staggers toward me unsteadily, revenge written all over his face. I take an involuntary step back. Vin places a cautionary hand on the man’s chest. “Bo, leave it. She was only defending herself. She didn’t know.”

  A muscle clenches in Bo’s jaw, and his murderous look doesn’t dissipate in the slightest, but he gives a terse nod of his head, and I release the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  “Here, you take Jarod,” Vin says, motioning with his head. “I’ll guide Sadie.” He steps in front of me and holds out the black cloth bag. “Will I do the honors?”

  I snatch it out of his hands and yank it down over my head before he can lift a finger. His low snicker barely reaches my covered ears. Gently, he steers me forward.

  We walk in utter silence for approximately twenty minutes. Gurgling water and a clanking, rattling sound echo in the corridors as we advance. A gentle breeze wafts around my legs as we move briefly into a different space, and then it’s more of the same.

  “We’re just here,” Vin finally says. “You can’t remove your blindfold at any time, Sadie. Do you understand?”

  I nod my head vigorously as little beads of perspiration dot the skin on my back. My throat is dry and fuzzy as I allow Vin to move me forward. It’s disorienting being without my vision, but my other senses kick into action as I try to get some grasp on my surroundings.

  Several doors slam shut behind us, and whispered voices tickle my eardrums. Vin brings me to an abrupt halt in a warm, lemon-scented space. Approaching footsteps send my blood pressure soaring, and my pulse pounds in my ears. Vin grips my arm tight in silent warning.

  The steps stop in front of me, and the sounds of heavy breathing add to my growing sense of anxiety. Vin spins me around, and I gasp at the unexpected movement. “I’m going to remove the bag, Sadie, and apply a blindfold across your eyes. Please keep them shut.”

  I bob my head in consent as he attends to it before turning me back around.

  “Ms. Owens. I am G. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” a rich, sonorous, male voice says.

  I jump back, alarmed at his close proximity. I stumble into Vin, and he reaches out and steadies me.

  “Don’t be frightened. You have nothing to fear from me,” G says. “I’d prefer to keep this meeting brief in case the VP should notice your absence. We need to discuss your role and what’s required of you. Provided you stick to the agreement, you won’t have much cause to meet with me again. We have people in all levels of the government administration, and identities are kept secret to protect everyone’s involvement. No one outside of this room will be aware that you are aiding our efforts. We will see that you don’t come to any harm. Confirm you are in agreement to proceed ahead on this basis.”

  It hasn’t gone unnoticed that he didn’t pose the question. I understand fully that I’ve already made my bed. While I was foolish to have signaled a commitment to the rebels without giving it proper consideration, I was driven by my desire to protect the stars—the lower classes who reside in the Outer Circle—from the fate lying in store for them. My motivation to stop that happening to my friends and neighbors is the only thing keeping me here. Reversing the plans to strip them of their conscience and their free will is not going to be easy, and I know we’ll need all the help we can get. The awful truth is that I need the rebels. While they haven’t earned my trust, and I don’t fully understand what I’m getting into, I’m low on options.

  Although my senses are firing warning signals at me, there’s no choice but to ignore them. “I agree.” I’m pleased that I sound self-assured, even though I’m a doubt-ridden quivering mess on the inside.

  “In our organization, your word is as good as a signature. Consider this a binding agreement, Ms. Owens. Now, what intel do you have to share courtesy of the crown prince?”

  I swallow uncomfortably. This is the embodiment of my worst fear. I don’t want to betray Logan or the trust he’s placed in me. Having already contemplated this exact moment, I know I need to give G something to keep him on my side.

  “The aliens hovering in our skies—the Amaretti—are not the ones responsible for destroying Thalassic City. That was a diffe
rent group of aliens—the Tor—another enemy of the Saven from a planet called Torc.”

  A few sharp gasps are audible in the room.

  “Why did they target the underwater city?” G asks.

  “Logan doesn’t know,” I admit truthfully. “Or if he does, he isn’t telling me.” I nibble on my lip, nerves getting the better of me.

  “What do they want? What else are they planning?” Tension slips into G’s tone, and I can tell this is something he wasn’t previously aware of. Good, I’ve added some value. That has to add brownie points to my score.

  “I don’t know.” And that’s an honest answer. Logan says the Saven don’t understand why the Tor have targeted Earth or what they are planning next, and I believe him.

  “I was led to believe that you and the crown prince were very close. Yet from the sounds of it, he isn’t very trusting of you.”

  The accusation pierces me straight through the heart. “He does trust me! I haven’t seen him for six weeks, and what limited opportunity we have to speak isn’t ordinarily wasted talking about alien politics,” I snap.

  “I see.” His tone is curt. “Are you in love with him?”

  “What?” What the hell? Affairs of my heart are none of his business.

  “Answer the question, Ms. Owens. Are you in love with the alien?”

  Considering I haven’t been able to convey that to Logan yet, there’s no way I’m declaring it blindfolded in a room full of strangers.

  “No. I’m not.” The lie trips off my tongue with ease.

  “Well, then. I expect you to remember where your loyalty lies. Steer your conversations to alien politics and report any new information on a weekly basis.”

 

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