“You really think Byron will make me keep having babies?” Cali asked, turning away from Draven again and focusing instead on the soil in her garden.
“I could speculate, but you would not like my answer.” Cali began to speak, but Draven held up a hand. “A car approaches. I must go onto the roof. Will you wait a moment?”
“Yeah, a minute.”
Draven swung up the bars and leapt onto the roof. He crossed to check the parking area. Moments later, he dropped onto the bars above Cali and made a sound to alert her.
“I must go,” he said. “Your master has returned with a human male.”
The wind rushed past him in a cold burst. Cali pulled her towel tighter around her shoulders. Her eyes had grown very large. “A breeder?”
“I’ve no means to know his purpose.”
“But he’s a human? Are you sure?”
“Quite.”
“Then take me with you.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes, now hurry. One of the bars comes off. But you need tools.”
“Really?” Draven asked, leaning back to study Cali’s face. “Do you mean this? You’ll come?”
“Yes. But it takes a while, so please hurry.”
Draven knelt, braced himself and strained against the bars. After an initial hesitation, they bent to let him through. He dropped into the garden beside Cali, who stood staring at him with a hand over her mouth.
“He has yet to enter his apartment,” Draven said, crouching to study the chain on her ankle. He sat on the concrete, braced his feet against the cuff while gripping the chain, and pulled. After far too long, it broke. The cuff and a short length of chain remained on Cali’s ankle, but he’d deal with that later. He could hear Byron’s footsteps approaching.
He launched himself at the top of the cage and swung himself up, squeezing out the opening. “Come,” he said, reaching down for Cali.
Inside, Byron entered Cali’s apartment.
Cali grasped Draven’s hand and he lifted her through the opening. When he bent the bars back, they had a strange look to them, slightly crooked and twisted, but it might buy them a few minutes if the escape route was not instantly identifiable.
Byron inquired after Cali inside the apartment.
Draven did not risk speaking, as he knew Byron’s hearing was even better than his own. He turned, leaned down a bit, and grasped Cali’s hand and pulled until she slid onto his back and clung to him. Her whole body shook.
“Tight,” he whispered as he moved to the side of the garden and jumped.
Above, he heard the door slide open just as he hit the ground. Cali’s weight jerked down on him, and he nearly lost his footing. He caught his balance and her weight at the same moment. The impact of the landing had jarred her hands loose, and he caught her weight in his hands to prevent her from slipping from him.
Byron swore above them.
“Tighter,” Draven whispered.
Cali’s legs and arms wound around him with all her force.
Once again, Draven was running.
Part Two
Chapter 16
Byron set his things on the counter and turned to the sapien behind him. The male didn’t look nearly as impressive as the last breeder he’d hired, but then, that one hadn’t produced the promised offspring, so he knew better than to rely on a sapien’s appearance of virility. This one peered at him from flinty grey eyes, a matching grey beard fraying from its weathered cheeks. It had spoken few words, instead keeping its mouth shut in a tight line that matched its scowl. It looked like a cold brute who wouldn’t know the meaning of the word ‘gentle,’ which was reason enough for Byron to rent it. Obviously, his female responded better to harshness—if the bitch wanted gentle treatment, she’d have to earn it.
“This way,” Byron said, motioning the sap to follow. He opened the door of his sapien apartment and pushed the breeder inside. Byron entered after it. His male sapien sat on the bed, its back to Byron, holding the sapling in its arms. If he’d gotten anything good since coming to Princeton, it was the sapling. He tried not to let his conscious bother him, knowing that technically it did not belong to him. But his neighbors had moved before he could return it, and he hadn’t had time to track them down. They should have come and asked him, been sociable, and he’d have returned it. Now they could never prove it belonged to them—their male had gone to the blood bank, their female had been killed in the massacre, and the sapling had not yet been chipped when they’d lost it. It was untraceable.
“Where’s the female?” he asked his sapien.
The male did not turn, but it stopped bouncing the sapling, which made a babbling noise and reached towards Byron.
“Answer me when I speak to you,” Byron said, striding towards the mat where the filthy creatures slept. Still his male did not turn. That was when he knew something was wrong. The male always answered, always bowed, showed respect, acted as a sapien should. It never failed to do its duty, except in one area, and even Byron allowed a sap one deficiency. That’s why he’d brought another sap to complete the task his failed to perform.
Byron snatched the male’s scrawny arm and shook it. The creature looked up at him with terrified eyes and tried to shrink back, but Byron dragged it up by the arm. It clutched the sapling in the other arm.
“Where’s the bitch?” Byron asked, shaking his sap until its arm sprang from the socket with a wet popping sound. The sap let out a whine of pain in answer, and the sapling began to cry. “Well?” Byron demanded. “Where the hell is your mate?”
“I—I don’t know,” the male squealed. “She went outside.”
“Outside? I told her to stay out of the garden.”
“I know,” the male said, cowering, hanging limply from Byron’s fist. He dropped the sap and stormed outside. He knew, but his mind refused to comprehend. She had gone. She had escaped. Again. One of his saps, a two-time runaway. Despite the orders to stay inside, the brand, the chain—Byron stopped gaping and turned, searching for the chain. How had a human broken a thick iron chain? He found it lying at the edge of the garden, almost complete. He sprang inside, to the bed, and wrenched the male to its feet so violently that the sapling slipped from its arms and crashed to the floor. Byron kicked it out of the way.
“Where is she?” Byron asked, gripping the sapien’s neck and squeezing, forcing it to its knees. Its eyes bulged from its head, and its face began to redden. With detached fascination, Byron watched as a blood vessel burst in its eye and the color of blood washed over the white. The sap gripped Byron’s hand with its remaining functional hand, and its eyes, one red and one white, rolled back, its eyelids fluttering. The sapling on the floor screamed in rage, its own face red and twisted into a grotesque mask.
Byron longed to stomp the sapling’s face flat, to hurl it into the wall to make it shut the hell up—or to get his male sap talking. He released the male, which fell to the floor, where it lay heaving and holding its throat. He snatched the sapling up by the foot. It shrieked in terror, and his male reached up, blinking through its tears, still coughing.
“What?” Byron thundered. “Are you trying to say something?” He shook the floundering sapling. “You tell me where that filthy cuntscab went or I’m going to start swinging this thing at the wall.”
“No,” the male croaked, clutching its throat.
“Where?” Byron asked, shaking the sapling once more. It shrieked and flailed wildly. “I can’t hear you. Open your souldamned mouth and spit it out or you’re going to be picking bits of brain matter off your floor for weeks.”
“No,” the male said again, louder this time. Speaking set him off into a fit of coughing, but he clambered to his knees and reach for the baby. “I’ll tell you,” it choked out between coughs. “Please Master Superior, give me my baby.”
“Your baby? Your baby?” Byron glowered down at the groveling sap. “This is my sapling, and if I want to beat you to death with it, I damn well have the right. Now start ta
lking.”
“She—she left,” the male croaked. “I don’t know where.”
“Who took her?” Byron asked.
“That one, please, Lord Superior, Lord Master, please don’t hurt him…”
“What one?” Byron shook the sapling, but it had turned the reddish purple of a fresh bruise and gone silent, only drool streaming from its gaping mouth.
“The one who comes, he comes to visit, I forgot his name…” Suddenly the male scrambled forwards, tipped onto his injured shoulder and began squirming across the floor like a frantic animal. “Don’t hurt him, please, Lord Master, put him down, he’s gonna die…” The sap reached the counter and dragged itself up enough to open a drawer, where it scrambled the contents blindly with one hand. Byron knew it had nothing inside to harm a Superior, so he waited. He glanced at the breeder, which stood near the door, its face set in the usual scowl. It showed no emotion at the scene taking place before it.
“Here, he’s here,” Byron’s male said, finding what it sought and lurching towards Byron on its knees, hand extended, proffering a small square of paper printed with an old photograph.
“What’s this?” Byron asked, snatching it from his sap. He tossed the sapling onto the bedroll, where it flopped on its back with a weak cry. Byron stared at the photo, his mind as uncomprehending as when he’d seen that the female had vanished into thin air.
“That’s the one,” the male said, its voice hardly more than a hoarse whisper. “That’s the one that took her. He’s—” A fit of coughing stopped the sap’s words.
“I know who it is,” Byron snapped, throwing the paper at his sap. He took a breath. Though he was always meticulous in his work, if he wanted a conviction after conducting an investigation of a crime perpetrated against himself, he must follow all protocols with surgical precision. All the while, he expected rage to overtake him, but instead, only a coldness crept over him, hardening him from within, as if he were slowly freezing from the inside out.
Of course he knew who had taken Cali. He’d been waiting for Draven to turn up, some part of him had, since he’d discovered Draven’s body missing from the theater. Meyer had to have found him and set him free. And now Draven had repaid his debt by stealing Byron’s sap. So the next question was, where would he have taken it?
Byron walked across the room and back into the garden, measuring his steps, not hurrying. At first glance, he could find nothing amiss. Turning first one way, then another, he began scenting, circling the garden, leaning close to the bars and scenting each of them. He found the faint trace of Superior scent, familiar Superior scent, on almost every bar along the left side of the garden. He examined the bars. Draven could not have come into Byron’s apartment, so he must have taken it from outside.
Byron cursed himself for not locking the garden, for assuming a chain alone could hold his much-coveted sapien. For trusting it to obey his command to stay inside. For not seeing this coming, for not guessing that Meyer would try again, since he’d failed the first time he’d had Byron’s favorite sap stolen. This time, he hadn’t sent some pathetic sap to do the job. He’d sent a Superior. Granted, a Third, but he’d raised the stakes nonetheless.
Byron would raise the next stake.
He examined every bar of the cage, but he saw nothing. He went over them again, not hurrying, scanning from top to bottom, scenting. And then he caught a stronger whiff of scent, newer, and he closed his eyes and inhaled, teasing the faint Superior scent from beneath the overpowering animal stink of the bitch. He had it, culled from the scents in the garden, those of his own three sapiens, of dirt and weeds and traces of mold under the plastic tarp; the scents on himself, the hint of the breeder’s scent from when he’d touched it, his own Superior scent, the scents of his clothing; the mountains, the different types of trees, the air itself. All his senses converged into one brilliant point of energy, which he cast upwards, along the thread of scent to its source. He opened his eyes, and smiled.
Chapter 17
Cali’s grip kept slipping, and she had to urge her strength up again and again. After all, Draven was doing all the work. She only had to hold on. He had to run and carry her at the same time. But although her strength had increased some since the baby came, she hadn’t done much hard work at the apartment. Soon her arms grew tired, and then cramped, and then numb as she held on with renewed force.
Draven stopped and looked around. It seemed like he’d been running for days. Cali kept wanting to look back and see if Master had followed them, but she didn’t dare. Draven didn’t look back, either. He lifted his face, and the wind blew cold and wet against them.
“Good,” he said. “Rain.”
He boosted her and slipped into a dark passageway, and Cali couldn’t see anything for a minute. Draven slid her off his back, held onto her waist and lifted her. She groped in front of her and found metal bars to hold onto. Draven moved beside her, then swung up on the bars and pulled her onto some kind of platform.
“I will jump, and if it is not difficult, I’ll try with you,” he said. He was gone and back before she had time to register that he’d left. The platform swayed only slightly when he landed on silent feet beside her.
“Hold onto me tightly,” he said, pulling her onto his back again. He crouched, then launched himself into the air. Cali’s head spun with how fast it was all happening. Dizzy with fear, she held on as the side of building rushed at them with startling suddenness. Draven’s feet hit the wall, and they fell.
Cali clung to him, burying her face in his neck and suppressing a shriek. If she’d known it would be this terrifying, she might not have come. But then she thought of the breeder looming in her doorway the last time, and she was glad she’d run. He terrified her more than Draven—funny, since Draven had hurt her and sucked her blood, and the breeder had only mated with her.
Draven’s feet hit the metal platform, and this time they made a big sound and he staggered.
“Merde.” He stopped still. Cali could hear his inhalation over the sound of the wind high above them. “On the front,” he said, shifting her around him without pausing to let her dismount. “Don’t let go for your life,” he said, then crouched and leapt again. This time she couldn’t see the building coming at them, but her arms almost jarred loose with the impact of his feet hitting the wall. He landed back on the platform without staggering or noise, his arm around her waist.
“Merde, Cali. I said don’t let go for your life. Hold tighter.”
“I’m holding on as tight as I can,” she said. “I’m not a Superior, remember?”
“Hold on tighter or the only thing either of us will be is dead. Byron is close.”
Draven twisted around in Cali’s grip, and she held on with all her might with her legs and arms. She hoped she’d squeeze him so tight he couldn’t breathe. He acted like she should be able to do everything he could. He was the one who’d wanted her to escape, who’d promised to keep her safe.
The next moment they tumbled onto a rough black surface. Draven rolled over her, and she came loose, and then he stood over her, smiling big enough to show his two scary teeth. “We did it,” he said.
She sat up and rubbed her head.
Draven crouched before her. “Are you intact?”
“I think I’m okay.”
“Good. We haven’t time to rest.”
“Why? Where are we going?”
“To the place I’ve been staying. We’ll go this way a bit to stay downwind of Byron. We are fortunate to have this wind. It makes tracking us more difficult, and he may not realize we’re on the rooftops. I will circle back when I can.”
Draven bent and scooped up Cali and stood. “I’ll carry you on the front so I can hold onto you if you slip. But do your best that I won’t have to. Yes?”
“I’ll try.” With her legs around him, she twisted her feet together for a better hold. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled her face against his shoulder. He smelled strange, not like a person or swea
t or skin, or anything. He had no smell at all, like a vacuum, and the very absence of smell made an uneasy dead spot in the air—not unpleasant, just unsettling. She’d never noticed it before, had never been so close to a Superior, wrapped around him and buried in him.
For a second she wanted to detach from him and apologize and bow, or do something that would remind her of reality. In reality, Superiors didn’t set her free or help her escape. In reality, she couldn’t hold onto a Superior in a way that, if not for the circumstances, would have been jarringly intimate. In reality, people didn’t jump onto the roofs of apartments and cross them like the sun-gathering solar robots that stored power for the buildings. People didn’t break chains with their bare hands. But Draven did.
Cali kept her head down as he took off running again. After a while, she got used to the rhythm of their pace—bursts of speed, pauses, weightlessness for one airborne moment, a jolt when they landed and Draven’s arm went around her tight, a split second of regaining equilibrium, and then the cycle repeated.
A long time later, Draven stopped instead of just pausing. The movement and the late hour had lulled Cali halfway to sleep, and she separated from him with a kind of dreamy realization. She had been so scared, so impulsive. She hadn’t stopped to think about what she was doing. But she was free again.
Except of course she wasn’t. She hadn’t run away. She’d been sapnapped. She had simply traded one master for another. But she didn’t think she’d have much trouble losing this one.
“On my back again,” Draven said. She could see him better now. The sky had lightened a little, but tall clouds held back the morning. With arms stiff and numb from holding on so long, Cali struggled to climb onto his back. Soreness penetrated the inside of her thighs, from his hipbones pressing into them, and the underside of her arms, from his shoulders.
The Renegades (The Superiors) Page 7
