by A. L. Tyler
Then he closed the trunk door, plunging her into darkness except for the emergency lighting surrounding the inner release mechanism. She bent her knees and turned over on her back and tried to relax as the car started to move; it was a four hour drive to Waldgrave, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with four hours in the dark. But she was tired, and even though the trunk was cramped and stuffy, she drifted off to sleep fairly quickly.
Lena! Wake up!
Startled, she tried to sit up and smacked her head on the top of the trunk. She stared around wildly for a moment as she tried to remember where she was.
“What?!” She yelled in the direction of the front of the car.
We’re an hour away. Stay vigilant.
Lena rolled her eyes in the darkness. He was actually asking her to remain vigilant, even though she was in a car trunk. She wasn’t exactly sure what he expected her to do if something went wrong, but she tried to keep herself awake. She wished her cell phone was charged, because then she could have at least used it as a light source to read. Instead, she amused herself by playing with the light on the watch she kept in her travel bag, and waiting out the time as the minutes ticked down.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Twenty. When almost forty-five minutes had gone by, Lena was sure they were home-free. The thought that maybe the human-borns just weren’t bold enough to try anything in the daylight occurred to her, and mere seconds later something exploded, causing her to almost jump out of her skin as the car swerved slightly. She broke out in goose bumps and cold sweat.
We just blew a tire. I’m not stopping.
Lena’s heart was racing. It was too much of a coincidence. Five minutes later another tire blew out, and Lena felt the panic of claustrophobia creeping up on her as she felt the car suddenly leaning to the right side—the car probably wasn’t drivable on only two tires, but Griffin was trying. The screeching noise of metal scraping on pavement at the speed of forty-five miles per hour shook her whole body. But then it slowed, and finally it stopped. There was nothing but silence.
I don’t see anyone. Stay where you are.
Lena couldn’t breathe. Her heart was pounding, and the temperature in the trunk felt like it had shot up by at least twenty degrees in the last few minutes. Griffin, I need to get out!
Calm down. You’re fine.
Her breathing quickened to a hyperventilation pace. What’s happening? What’re you doing?
But there was no response. She heard a car door open and close, and she thought she heard Griffin walk around the side of the car. The trunk suddenly opened, and Lena welcomed the rush of cool air that flooded in. There was a wild look on Griffin’s face.
The tires were shot out.
Her voice was a high whisper. “What do we do?”
For the first time ever, Lena thought she could see him sweating. He was panicking. I don’t—
A loud crack broke through the silence, and Griffin fell to the ground, disappearing beyond the rim of the trunk. Lena, run!
Lena awkwardly pulled herself out of the trunk. She glanced down at Griffin; there was blood pooling around him, and he was clutching his left arm. His eyes were wide. I said, run!
She jumped out of the car and made for the cover of the trees off the side of the road; it wasn’t dense forest, but it would have to do. She ran downhill, weaving through the trees, until she reached the bottom. She turned left and tried to find a suitable place to hide, but there was nothing—no caves, or large rocks, or ditches. And now there were people yelling behind her. She tried to turn and head back up the hill, but promptly tripped over a rock, splaying herself on the ground.
She looked over her shoulder, and saw people running after her. Then she looked forward again, and saw more people in front of her. They were carrying guns. She tried to get back up, but froze in place when she heard a shotgun cock behind her. Looking up, she was horrified to realize that while she didn’t know all of the names, she recognized many of the human-borns standing in front of her. Tab was among them, but he seemed unable to look her in the eye.
Someone put what felt like a jacket over her head. A male voice addressed her. “Get up.”
Her legs had turned to jelly. She wasn’t sure she was able to move. Someone pulled her roughly to her feet, and she felt a gun barrel pressed into her back. “Walk.”
It was slow work, but Lena managed to make her legs move. She couldn’t see where she was going, but they were moving back up the hill. She kept tripping over things and getting pulled back up very roughly, and there was a gun constantly sticking into her back. She briefly considered the option of breaking and running, but the odds weren’t in her favor.
She heard a van door slide open, and whoever was behind her pushed her in. “Tie her hands, then go! We don’t have much time.”
Someone else tied her hands behind her back as she heard the ignition turn. The van sped away. In one terrifying moment, Lena realized she might not have long to live. And Griffin was probably already dead.
*****
CHAPTER 16
Griffin snapped his cell phone shut and clutched at his wounded arm; the pain was hot and stabbing this time. He tried to use his palm to keep the blood in, but the bullet had gone through both sides, and even touching the wound sent splinters of agony shooting through him, from his teeth to his toes. The trees hanging over him were starting to divide and unfocus. How could he have been so careless? His hesitation might have cost her life.
Very slowly, his eyes drifted shut. He jerked them open again. It was getting cold out.
There was a crunching noise somewhere nearby. Footsteps, on the gravel of the road shoulder. A face was swimming into focus in front of the trees. He was smiling.
“I’ve wanted to put a bullet in your skull for a long time now.”
Griffin compulsively let his arm go again and reached for the gun he had stuck down the side of his pants, and then waved it uncertainly between the split images above him before it was kicked out of his grasp.
“You might want to keep the pressure on that arm if you want to talk again someday.” Rollin squatted down to bring their faces closer. “So I hear you’re about to be the major power here? You’re one lucky bastard Daray’s on his way out, because otherwise I wouldn’t be bothering with you. Congratulations, Griffin. We all knew you’d claw your way to the top eventually.” He looked at the large pool of blood and frowned, disgusted. It had grown and was beginning to spread around the toe of Rollin’s shoe; he stepped away, scratching his sole across the gravel to get the red off. He brushed his blond hair out of his face, and then stared straight into his rival’s eyes. “I will kill her. You know I’m capable. So now that you’re in a position to do something about it, I suggest you think it over.”
He placed an envelope squarely on Griffin’s chest and walked away.
The van eventually stopped, and Lena was moved from the van to what she suspected was a room somewhere; she was told not to make any noise on pain of death. The jacket over her head had been tied in place, and her hands were still tied behind her back. She sat on the floor in suffocating darkness, for what felt like hours, before she heard the door open again. The jacket was removed from her head, and her eyes adjusted to the obscurity around her. She was in another hotel room; in the dark gloom of the drawn curtains, Devin was standing in front of her.
“Are you okay?” He asked in a frantic whisper.
Lena could only stare at him blankly. He looked concerned; why was he there to begin with? Now he was hugging her. Now he was sitting down on the floor next to her, and she could still only stare.
He licked at his lips and kept staring around the room with wild eyes, as if he expected people to emerge from the walls and attack them. “God, Lena, I’m so sorry about this…I’m going to find a way to get you out of here.”
She felt her mouth moving before she knew what she was saying. “Untie me.”
Devin’s face fell. He shook his head. “I can’t do that…�
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“Yes, you can!” Lena struggled to turn her tied hands toward Devin. She spoke as quickly and as quietly as she could. “Yes you can, Devin. Untie me and then we need to get out of here before—“
“No. Look, we’ve got a few days before…” Devin’s solemn voice trailed off. Lena turned back around to face him.
“Before what?” Lena felt the adrenaline and alarm rising in her veins. Whoever was in control of her fate already had a plan for her. “Before what, Devin?!”
He pursed his lips. “I can’t take you out of here now because there’s too many people around. But we’ll figure something out, okay?”
“What are you doing here? These people are murderers!”
He looked away and sighed deeply. “I’m here because Rollin has money, and it hasn’t been easy for us over the past few months, Lena. We’ve all been kicked out. Probably most of the human-born Silenti have been kicked out by their families, because people are getting paranoid. No one is taking in wanderers, and most of us can’t find regular jobs; their isn’t enough to go around. We’re homeless and hungry. Tab and I followed Rollin because he provides—he feeds us and keeps a roof over our heads. There’s nowhere else for us to go without starving, physically or mentally.”
He looked sheepishly back up at Lena. She looked around the room again. “Devin, please, you have to untie me right now, or—“
He shook his head. “No! It’s too dangerous! We need to wait until—“
Someone walked past the door and Devin clapped a hand over her mouth just as she was about to protest again; the sooner she escaped, the better. Her chances weren’t good to begin with, and she didn’t see them getting any better for waiting. Devin gave her a look, then threw the jacket back over her head and tied it back in place. Seconds later, she heard the door discretely open and close as he left. Once again, she was alone in the dark.
She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Her life seemed to be filled with a terrible irony lately. She had started a search to locate the one object that had made her life a living nightmare of political conquest. Ava was killed just as Lena started to form a meaningful relationship with her. Griffin had undergone the transformation from a friend she couldn’t trust to a foe that she could, and just as she had finally decided she would never befriend him again, he was the one person she couldn’t stop worrying about. Why hadn’t she looked in his eyes? If she had looked, really looked, she would know if he was dead now. The eyes never lied.
She hadn’t looked because she didn’t want to know. Where there was doubt, there was hope.
The person who had been the greatest antagonist of her life—killing her father and bringing her to Waldgrave—was the one person she believed possible of saving her life. Howard was right; Griffin couldn’t be trusted with many things, but if he was still alive, Lena trusted that he wouldn’t hesitate to lay down his life to save hers. He had done it before, many times over.
And then there was Waldgrave. Just when she finally had the knowledge she needed to finally sever all ties with her castle prison, she found out that Master Daray—one of the main reasons for her captivity—held the key to her release. After all the trouble and angst he had caused and the lives he had carelessly expended, Lena hoped he was suffering as he died. She had to get back to Waldgrave to get away from it. And after years of not being able to escape from Waldgrave, now she desperately needed to escape back to it and she wasn’t able.
And with so many problems to occupy her mind, she had all the time in the world to consider them and no recourse to do anything about them. For several hours she hoped that Griffin was okay, Howard wasn’t too worried, and Daray was screaming in pain; finally, through the thick, black, oppressive screen of the jacket, she heard the door reopen.
“Stand up.” Whoever it was, another male voice, helped her to her feet and then led her out into the chill night air. They walked a short distance, and then she was inside again. The room was warm, and smelled faintly of warm bread and roast beef. Her hood was lifted, and she squinted against the bright light. The bonds tying her hands were suddenly released.
Lena looked around; the table that came standard with the hotel suite had been pulled out to the middle of the room, and it was covered in food. Rollin was seated on the opposite side of the table, looking slightly better fed but still as gangly as the last time she had seen him. Behind her, Lena heard the door close again.
Rollin gestured to a chair in front of Lena. “Sit.”
Lena continued to stare around. Rollin watched her for a moment, and then poured himself a glass of wine. “Suit yourself. It makes no difference to me.”
“What do you want from me?” Lena blurted out. She felt out of place amidst the smell of food and Rollin’s audacity.
Rollin gazed at her, staring directly into her eyes for too long. “Well,” Rollin pushed his chair back and brought one foot up to rest on the edge of the table, “I don’t want anything now. You’ve had your chance, and now the decision is in somebody else’s hands.”
“No,” Lena shook her head, “I mean, what do you want from me? Why am I here now?”
Holding the glass of wine precariously loose in his left hand, he raised his eyebrows and took a quick drink. “Oh. Well, I hope you haven’t misunderstood. You’re no different than any of the others to me. You vote and use your power how you choose, just like every other member of the Council. As is typically the case, you are a victim of your circumstances this time. You’re my assurance that people give me what I want.”
“And what do you want?” Lena instinctively grasped the back of the chair in front of her. Rollin set down his glass and stood up, standing with the table still between them.
“I want what you want. What everyone wants—the opportunity to be an equal. To be judged by my choices and abilities and not by my parentage.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Lena almost smiled. His motive was so simple. “I’m alive because you think we’re the same. We want the same thing.”
Rollin clasped his hands behind his back and frowned. “No. As I said, you’re here as collateral because your birthright matters to the people I’m dealing with. I only care about your choices and actions, those things within the realm of your control, and believe me when I say you’re just like the others. I would have no qualms dispatching you this minute if I didn’t need you for my negotiations.”
“My actions?” Lena’s eyes went wide. “I’m not the murderer here. You’ve killed several people—“
“It’s ironic that you choose to care about murder as a crime now. Because it was someone you cared about, I suppose? I’m told you didn’t care as much when Pyrallis Daray murdered Darius Corbett. You never cared to bring him to justice.” Rollin’s voice was incredibly even.
“How do you--?”
The girl. Rollin shook his head, frowning in antipathy. Marie. The one you haven’t given a second thought to since she was banished from Waldgrave, and the crime she reported was ignored.
Lena shook her head in shock. “She didn’t want to—“
“You act as fits the situation to your needs. I’m sure you feel like a victim now, but history won’t view you as a martyr any more than they do the last royalty of France. In fact, you should be grateful that I’ve allowed you the liberty of being collateral. It would expedite my cause to just kill you now.” He produced a handgun from behind a bowl of rolls on the table and held it indifferently in his left hand. “Killing you would be the end of the endless preoccupation with the false religion. It’s bloodier for everyone, because I’m sure there would be a backlash of violence directed at my kind, but in the long run it’s faster than diplomacy.”
Lena stared at the gun and swallowed. “So why don’t you?”
“Because if I did it that way, I would be killing you for your parentage.” Rollin’s ironic smirk was distastefully similar to Griffin’s. “As I’ve said, I don’t believe in killing people for their parentage.”
 
; He set the gun back down and resumed his place in his chair; he once again gestured for her to sit. After another quick glance around the room, she sat. Rollin started doling out food onto both their plates. He was taking bizarrely too much care selecting her food. Very suddenly, she had a flashback to Mrs. Corbett and her picky eating habits.
Lena’s eyes went wide. “I don’t want any. Not from you.”
Rollin stopped and glanced up at her. “You would have fit right in with the family. You’re just as paranoid as she was.”
Lena tried not to let her voice shake. “Just because she was paranoid doesn’t mean you weren’t trying to kill her.”
A wry smile crossed Rollin’s face. “Fair enough. But as I said, I have no desire to kill you now. Eat the food or not, I don’t care.”
She could only stare at her food while he ate—there was just too much of everything. Too much food, too much room, too many guns; Devin’s words of Rollin’s wealth suddenly came to the front of her mind.
“Where did all of this come from?”
Rollin tossed his blond hair back and gave her a quick smile as he chewed a piece of steak, but remained silent. He was very good at evading her questions; she still wasn’t quite clear why she was alive or why Rollin had elected to have her as a dinner guest. Deciding to change her tactics, Lena picked up a piece of bread and started to butter it.
“You think you’re smart, but it will never work. Kidnapping a Council Representative carries a heavy penalty, let alone what you did back in Texas. They’ll execute you when they catch you.”