“I don’t understand.” I frown. “What does that have to do with your family?”
“Once the decision is made, the crown prince is my entire life. My only family. Nothing or no one is allowed to interfere with my duty to protect him.”
I recall a previous conversation. “Is that the only reason why you were exempt from choosing a preferred earthen?”
“Yes.” He looks pensive. “The administration like the fact that the bodyguard corps have no conscience. It’s act first and think later. No bodyguard stops to question any required action. The only goal is to protect the mark at all costs. We all have blood on our hands.” He flips his hands over, staring at invisible horrors. “Imagine if we had a conscience? How many bodyguards would be loath to kill? How many would stop and consider all the options, and how risky would that be?” A look of supreme sadness washes over his face. “When I made that decision, I thought I fully understood all the implications. That I’d come to terms with my family situation …” He trails off, unable or unwilling to add anything further.
I cover my mouth and nose with my hands in a feeble attempt to mask my horror. “So you won’t ever see your family again?”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. I reach out and hug him again, and this time his arms go around my waist as he holds me sternly against his chest. While there’s little love between my family and me, it doesn’t mean I can’t empathize. If I had to face the prospect of never seeing my sister Ella again, I don’t know how I’d cope. She has been my only center of gravity these last seventeen years.
I look up at him. “I can’t believe they let you make a decision like that when you were seven.”
“Remember we develop differently than humans. It was the equivalent of being fourteen or fifteen in human terms. It was old enough to know.”
He looks so sad and my heart bleeds for him. “Do you regret it?”
Mournful eyes penetrate mine. “I didn’t used to.”
His proclamation hangs ominously in the air. “But you do now?”
Slouching back on the couch, he sighs. “I don’t know,” he eventually admits, a few minutes later. “Being here, being around humans, around you, it’s making me question everything I thought I knew and wanted. Now, I’m not so sure of what I’m doing or what I want.”
“Jeez.” I lapse into the couch, heaving my knees into my chest. Haydn’s eyes momentarily scan my bare legs. “That’s some heavy duty stuff. Seems like we’re both having a right time of it lately.”
“What are you questioning?” He looks puzzled.
“Everything.”
Haydn stares into my eyes, and I stare right back at him. Unspoken words charge the space between us, but neither one of us shows a willingness to renew the conversation. The silence isn’t uncomfortable though. My jumbled thoughts weigh heavy on my mind as I finish my hot chocolate. “I’m going to call it a night. See you in the morning.” I rise.
“Sadie,” he calls out as my feet reach the corridor. “You won’t share anything we discussed with Logan, will you?”
“Of course not. That was a private conversation. And unlike someone I know”—I purposely quirk my eyebrows—“I don’t tell him everything.” Guilt surges in my gut as I acknowledge that truth, thinking of the many omissions I’m already keeping from the love of my life.
“Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t tell him everything either. And that’s becoming a problem.”
My forehead creases in confusion. I sense a double meaning, but I’m way too tired to figure it out or probe him for more detail.
Exhaustion finally does a number on me, and I drift into unconsciousness. For the first time in weeks, I sleep straight through the night.
It’s amazing how much better I feel after a proper night’s sleep. As I inspect my reflection in the mirror the next morning, I’m pleased to see some color in my cheeks, some radiance shining behind my eyes.
It’s only then the thought occurs to me.
Logan never contacted me last night.
“Haydn?” I ask, stepping into the kitchen. “How do I contact Logan on this?” I point at the black and silver comport strapped to my slim wrist. I’ve never had cause to use it up to this point, as Logan has always been the one to initiate contact. But today it’s going to be me. And it’s not that I’m one of those girls who freaks out if her boyfriend doesn’t call. I want to make sure he’s okay, and I need to ask him what he knows, or what he can find out, regarding stuff going on in Sector Twenty.
“Here,” he says, gently grasping my wrist. “Press this button here.” He jabs at a button on the side. “And select Logan from the private contact list. Then touch the screen, and when you see it vibrating, it is reaching out to make the connection.”
“Got it, thanks.”
His fingers linger a moment on my skin. “Is everything all right?” He scratches the back of his head.
“I didn’t get to speak to him last night, and I want to make sure he’s okay.”
“Of course,” he says, lips pursed. He backs out of the kitchen. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I touch the screen and feel the gentle vibration dancing invisibly through the air. He picks up pretty much straightaway. “Angel,” Logan’s worried voice greets me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I wanted to check in, make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” he says in a clipped tone of voice, which lets me know he’s anything but fine. “I’m sorry I didn’t call last night, but negotiations went on for hours, and I couldn’t find a gap to contact you.”
Stress punches through the holes in his prose, and I wish I could be there to support him. “Things aren’t improving then?”
I pick up on his frustrated exhale as he answers. “Definitely not. Things are tense. What they’re proposing now …” He makes a strangled sound before composing himself. “It’s bad. Real bad, because my father is considering it.” He whispers that last bit.
“Considering what?” Silence greets my question. “Logan? You there?”
“I’m here.”
“You’re not going to tell me?” I’m greeted with more silence, and frustration ripples through me. He doesn’t need to say anything for me to feel his fear, though I don’t understand what’s driving it.
I hate that he’s keeping stuff from me, but I’m hardly in a position to criticize. I purposely bury my unhappiness. “I found out yesterday that they’re already sending stars to Sector Twenty. Were you aware of that?” More telling silence and my patience is stretched to breaking point. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I’m keeping an eye on it. There are no plans to send anyone to the underwater colonies yet, so there’s no need to panic. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily.”
I bite down hard on my lip and try to calm the rampant fury building inside me. “I don’t need you to protect me from the truth, Logan. I need you to tell me what’s actually going on before it’s too late to do anything about it! And have you forgotten about my sister? Did you not think I’d be concerned for her welfare?”
“Of course, I haven’t forgotten about your sister! I personally spoke to the president and requested that none of your family were involved.”
His voice is like ice dripping down my spine. “Thank you,” I acknowledge, the edge of my anger evaporating.
“I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it. You’ve got to trust me.” Familiar frustration enunciates his words, and my anger bubbles to the surface again.
“I do trust you! I’m basically a prisoner in this apartment, and Haydn is effectively my shadow, all because you asked that of me. But I can’t sit around here doing nothing, Logan! Not anymore. Not when they’re making plans and actively moving things along. It’s not right. I won’t sit on the sidelines.”
“Sadie.” He uses that tone. The one that says “you will not argue with me.”
“Please don’t Sadie me. Anything but that. I’ve h
ad a lifetime of it, and I don’t need to hear that from you.”
Muffled conversation echoes in the background. “I have to go, but we’re not finished with this discussion. Please, please, do not do anything rash. We’ll figure out something, okay?”
“Fine.” I grit my teeth. He can barely spare me five minutes, and it does nothing to improve my bad mood. I feel as insignificant as dirt.
The connection cuts out, and I’m left wallowing in a sea of despair.
One of the absolute best things about Haydn is his quiet companionship. Perhaps he’s adept at reading my moods, but I think it’s more to do with his personality. That steely, unwavering, quiet confidence he carries about his persona. He doesn’t need words to convey his meaning or words to fill the empty space. And the words he does use are used circumspectly.
It’s easy to be in Haydn’s company. There is little drama. Except when we’re training, and I mess up, then he fully embraces his inner diva. I chuckle inwardly.
I wish I could say the same about Logan. Today’s tense atmosphere was new, but it’s been brewing for a while. It’s not that I’m ungrateful for all he is doing to care for me—especially considering everything else he has going on right now—but I don’t take kindly to being mollycoddled. My life is different now, should be different now, but the reality is that not a hell of a lot has changed.
I get up, go to work, and come back to my abode. Sure, the job is much better than my previous position in Medi-Tech, and the king’s apartment is a damn sight finer than the Owens family’s home, nonetheless, I feel like I have no control over my destiny. I swore a few weeks ago that I wasn’t going to be a bystander in my own life, but that’s exactly what I’ve been relegated to.
That stops right now.
I’m not sure how I’m going to achieve it, but I’m determined to take an active stance, starting right now.
“We’re here.” Haydn maneuvers the vehicle alongside the curb and kills the engine. I haven’t said one word to him the entire journey to the Outer Circle. I squint up at the recognizable high-rise as a nasty taste floods my mouth. I wipe my suddenly sweaty palms down the front of my jeans.
Haydn hops out and opens my door. “You sure you’re up for this?” His kind eyes search my face.
I’ve filled him in on the less-than-pleasant aspects of my upbringing during one of our many nighttime chats, so he has some understanding of how difficult it is for me to be back here. But my nervousness is more than that. Potent fear for Ella overrides everything else. I have a very bad feeling about all this, though I’m fervently hoping I’m wrong. I nod. “Come on, let’s get it over and done with.”
The elevator is broken—some things never change—so we trek up the twenty floors by foot. There were plenty of occasions when I’d had recourse to take this exact journey, and typically, I’d be completely breathless by the time I reached our apartment. This time it’s a walk in the park. There’s no denying I’m fitter thanks to Haydn’s persistent training regime.
I stop outside the apartment door, blood pooling in my ears. Haydn squeezes my hand, and I look up into his reassuring eyes. “You can do this.”
Lifting my hand, I rap twice on the door. As it’s slowly opened, I gasp. Mom seems to have aged ten years since I left. Her dark hair is threaded with copious strips of gray, and the fine lines around her eyes and mouth are more pronounced, entrenched and heavy set, making her appear older than her fifty years. Clothing hangs off her skeletal frame and she’s thinner than I ever remember. Wizened lips purse into a typical scowl. “Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.”
“Can we come in?”
“No.” She shakes her head emphatically.
“What?” My eyes pop wide.
“You are not welcome here anymore. And his kind are definitely not welcome.” She lobs a sneer in Haydn’s direction.
“Mom, I know I haven’t been around, but I can help you. Let me help you.” I take a step forward.
Her hand pans out in front of me. “Don’t come any closer.”
I reach out to her.
“Don’t touch me!” she screams irrationally, her whole body trembling.
Haydn places his hand lightly against my lower back.
“Mom—”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your mother anymore. Don’t come back. Ever.” She moves to shut the door, but Haydn implants his foot at the edge of the doorframe. He glares at her and she lurches back, losing her balance and plunging to the floor.
I bend over to help her. She screams blue murder. Shunting backward along the floor, she frantically inches away from me like I have the plague. “Go! Get out of here or I’m calling the cops.”
“Sadie,” Haydn says, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Come on.”
“No.” I wriggle out of his grasp. “Not without Ella.” I duck my chin and stare at the virtual stranger on the floor. “Where is she?”
“You’re too late. She’s gone. Daveed too.” Mom hauls herself to a standing position. “This is all your fault. I told your father what we should have done, but he refused to give up hope. If he saw you now …” She turns her gaze to Haydn again, but this time the cold sneer has been replaced with fear. “I bet he’s turning in his grave.”
“Enough.” My voice wobbles as I start to lose control on my fragile emotions. “Where’s Den?” I ask after my other brother.
“He’s at work. I’ve answered your questions, now go.”
“You want me to go? I’ll go. But only if you tell me where Ella is gone. Did the government take her?”
Mom stalks toward the door as Haydn and I back up. “Yes. Now get out of my sight. I never want to lay eyes on you again.”
And just like that, the door closes on that particular aspect of my life.
CHAPTER 3
I race out of the building as if a swarm of angry bees is hot on my tail. Haydn keeps pace beside me. I pitch myself in the passenger seat as Haydn gets in the driver side. Then the floodgates open.
Huge gut-wrenching sobs let loose, and I can’t control the deluge. Haydn floors it, breaking all speed limits in his haste to get me far away from that poisonous place. When we reach the highway, he veers into the hard shoulder, ramming the vehicle into neutral. “She can’t be your mother.”
I half-snort and half-cry. “Oh, believe me. If there was some way of officially separating myself from her bloodline, I’d take it. If the devil himself showed up promising that in return for my soul, I’d make the deal on the spot.” I pull my legs into my chest and rest my head on my knees.
Haydn hands me a tissue. “Why does she treat you like that?”
I squint at him through foggy eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve never known. My dad said she was scared.”
“Of you?”
I shrug. I swipe my hands under my eyes, brushing the moisture away. I’m not wasting any more tears on that woman. “They’ve taken my brother and sister to Sector Twenty. I need to get them out of there. They are my priority, not that horrid woman.” If she refuses to label herself my mother, then I won’t bestow that honor on her either. I level a determined look at Haydn.
“I understand.” He kicks the Autovee into gear, and the vehicle glides smoothly out onto the asphalt. “But we’ve got to think this through carefully.” He quickly glances at me.
“Of course.” I smile sweetly the whole time I’m computing options in my head.
Making it back in good time, we spend a few hours training in the rooftop gym, at my request. It’s an effective distraction technique, but that doesn’t stop my brain from making plans the entire time. Afterward, I’m as hyper as a hyena on steroids and I can’t sit still, so when Haydn suggests a special outdoor training trip, I practically jump all over him.
Haydn teleports us to the middle of a densely populated forest. Though it’s only mid-morning, you would never know it here. The trees form a formidable cover, masking us from the outside world. I’m glad Haydn advised me to dress warmly,
because it’s frigging freezing. Even so, I shiver under my long-sleeved thermal and hoodie. “What have you planned?”
“Follow me.” He gestures with a flick of his wrist, and I follow him out to a small clearing. Slats of buttery yellow sunshine warm my skin through my clothes, and I stop, closing my eyes as I soak up the glorious heat.
Haydn’s soft tread strikes purposefully against the forest floor as he walks ahead. Fearful of getting lost, I run after him. We stop three hundred yards in front of an old gray brick wall. A line of empty glass bottles rests atop the wall. Haydn withdraws a weapon from the back of his pants and hands it to me. “Target practice.”
The gun feels like a dead weight in my palm. I stare at it, running the tip of one finger over the cold, steel exterior. I tremble all the way from my head to my toes. Decisively, I place it back in Haydn’s hand. “I know how to defend myself without the need for a gun. I’d really rather not.”
He whacks it back into my hand, curling my fingers around it. “You are doing great, Sadie, but there may be occasions where that’s not enough. It’s prudent to know how to use a gun. Knives too,” he says, bending over and rolling up the bottom of his pants. A small knife is strapped securely to his calf. He straightens up, expertly twirling the knife between his fingers. “Which do you want to start with?”
I swallow a gulp. “Neither. I can’t …”
“Here, try this for size instead,” he says, replacing the gun in my hand with the knife.
A sheen of sweat coats my forehead as I gape at my rigid fingers curved around the solid handle. All I can think when I look at both weapons of destruction is that G expects me to use something similar to kill Logan. The knife slips from my fingers, falling to the cushiony forest floor.
Haydn stares at me as if I’m deranged. “Perhaps today wasn’t the best day to suggest this,” he says, retrieving the knife and pocketing it.
“The thought of killing anyone is …” I can’t even articulate my thoughts.
“Hey.” He tilts my chin up. “I know it’s not an easy step to take, and I know you don’t want to take a life. But what if someone is pointing a gun in your face or threatening someone you love? Threatening Logan? Don’t you want to know how to defend yourself and those you love in every way possible?”
Saven Disclosure (The Saven Series Book 2) Page 4
