Ashes (The Divided Kingdom)

by Sophie H. Morgan

  The foyer led the way into three larger areas, two made into one grander room, the wall between having disintegrated long before they’d moved in. A staircase, metal-made—no taking chances with kids’ safety—trailed up for four floors, each floor with three large rooms.

  A vase of flowers sat at the right of the door. Bluebells, picked from the ’crats’ part of town, fragrant on a scarred table scavenged from the gutter.

  Pride spiraled out when she walked into the Hotel, as the children had begun to call it—sadly, because the conditions here were far superior to those that they could expect out in the Maze. This, this was where the Hoods’ money went, where the majority of her own personal wages were diverted.

  Because of that, the sound of real music floated down the hall, accompanied by childish laughter.

  “A hotel?” Cade stepped onto the plas-wood, his boots making a whisper of sound.

  Adelaide split her gaze between them. Does he not know?

  He will.

  Adelaide touched Ana’s arm. Who is he?

  Avoiding that too-knowing gaze, Ana brushed past her and walked toward the doorway the music was pouring from.

  “Welcome to the Hotel, Cade,” she muttered as he joined her, his jaw slackening at the inhabitants. The door creaked as it swung inward. “You can check in, but you can never check out.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “They’re kids,” Cade murmured.

  The little girl who’d been attempting to play a piano—the instrument a rare treasure, usually found in an aristocrat’s home—halted in the middle of a tune on a discordant note. She wore a gray pinafore over a ragged pink sweater. Her eyes, a dull brown to match the hair hanging down by her elbows, swiveled toward him with instinctive panic in their depths.

  His jackal rumbled, disliking the child’s fear. It was anathema to his animal, and more than that, one of his rules—you didn’t hurt the innocent. Maybe if his father had felt the same, Cade wouldn’t have failed his brothers.

  At the sight of the dozen children, all he’d gauge about six to twelve years old, all gawking with part curiosity, part nerves, suspicions began to flap wings darker than tar, sticking to his mind with the same nauseating clinginess.

  The missing kids…

  It couldn’t be. Alana wouldn’t be a party to kidnapping. He knew her; at least, he thought he did. Even if she had gotten mixed up in a rebellion against Edward, she would have had some pithy suggestions about where the rebel leader could shove it if Liberty’d threatened kids.

  And these kids were cared for. They didn’t act like they’d been kidnapped.

  Alana moved as if to go to the girl, but, shoving away his unease, he beat her to it, striding over and hunkering down. “Hey, there,” he said, gentle. Nonthreatening. “I’m Cade.”

  The girl’s stare traveled from him to Alana, who remained in the doorway with Adelaide. A man, shifter by his scent, had risen from the window seat. His focus remained on Cade, judging him friend or foe.

  Directing the girl’s attention to him, Cade stretched his fingers over the lower keys of the piano. A jarring bunch of notes sliced through the air with blunt force. The girl wrinkled her nose.

  Cade chuckled, careful to keep his lurking jackal under leash. “Yeah, I’m not brilliant. Would you show me how to play?”

  Hesitant as a baby rabbit, the girl played out a small jingle on the higher keys. Talent shimmered through her fingers, even at such a young age. As the last high notes faded, he grinned, clapping.

  “Wow,” he teased. “I bow to the master. Do you know any others?”

  The girl’s mouth whispered open. Tentative, she nodded. Her thumb crept into her mouth.

  “Would you show me?”

  With less time passing, she played another tune, a mournful melody, with only a few wrong notes. As she concentrated, a frown dug its way into her forehead, crinkling her button nose. Her features were so delicate and refined, he had to wonder what a little girl like her was doing in the Maze.

  His eyes caught on wounds buried in her hair, coin-sized and clotted over. Alana’s voice played in his head.

  Demons sans horns…

  His jackal roared in silent vengeance, butting up against Cade’s skin repeatedly. His hands wanted to fist at the savagery, hunt down and rip apart the ones who could brutalize a child. At the age she was, it was unlikely that the horns would grow back. Which meant she was doomed to be an outcast and would have to live out a mortal life. A demon’s power was rooted in their horns.

  Cade’s gaze swept over the children listening. His gut clenched as he automatically began cataloguing injuries. Heads, ears, throats bandaged, slings and casts, some with crude prosthetic limbs. He buried the snarl. Who would do this to kids? Babies.

  Other experimentation… Alana had been telling the truth.

  His stomach churned with acid, fury sparking and crackling through both him and his jackal. When he put claws to the one responsible for this torture of innocents, there wouldn’t be enough of them left to fit in a bucket. But was it Edward like Alana insisted, or had she been tricked by a leader’s vendetta? Was it Liberty herself or some unknown villain?

  He didn’t have time to think because the girl had finished her tune and had turned to him with a solemn, expectant expression, one that made his heart seize.

  “Amazing,” he said, honestly. He reached out with cautious hands and chucked her under her chin.

  She blinked in a flurry of eyelashes. He grinned again, easy on the surface while his animal prowled with fury beneath his skin. “A true artist.”

  Her lips trembled into a smile, uncertain at the corners. Her hands twisted on her lap, ragged sleeves pulled over her knuckles.

  Alana walked up behind him. She placed a hand on the girl’s head, careful not to rub the still-healing wounds. “You’re getting better every time I hear you, Sakura.”

  “I practice.” The girl—Sakura—spoke in a voice as quiet as falling leaves.

  The shifter near the window spoke, seeming relaxed, while dominance simmered beneath the surface. Dressed in navy jeans and a white turtleneck, light brown hair cut close to his head, he looked the part of a male model rather than any sort of fighter. “Who’s your friend, Ana?”

  Bristling at the man’s familiarity, Cade pushed to his feet. He kept his eyes on the shifter. He wouldn’t scare the children who sat on the soft plum-colored carpet, their eyes as wide as full moons. “Her name is—”

  “A possible ally, Rafe,” Alana interrupted, resting a hand on Cade’s arm. Her touch seared like a burning torch, the electricity thrumming through his blood having nothing to do with shifting and everything to do with a sensual hunger that she, and only ever she, awakened.

  The guard—Rafe—raised his eyebrows before directing a false smile to the kids. “Why don’t you all finish your music practice before bed? I’m going to go talk to our new friend.”

  He crossed the room, pausing by Adelaide. “You okay to stay?”

  Whatever she signed made the shifter’s mouth tighten in annoyance.

  Without another word to her, he strode past Cade and Alana, would have barreled into them if Alana hadn’t tugged Cade out of the way. They left the room to the sound of Sakura beginning to play another melody. The door shut with finality.

  Alana released his arm instantly—something that made his jackal grumble—walking to stand next to the staircase. One leg relaxed as she shifted her weight. “All right, what?”

  A low growl rippled through the air, hostile enough to have Cade on the offensive.

  “What the fuck are you thinking?” Rafe demanded, voice rigid, though he kept the volume low. “To bring anyone not cleared here? Have you lost your mind?”

  “Watch it,” Cade snapped, positioned in front of Alana before the thought to protect had fully formed. He crouched, tracking Rafe wi
th eyes gone jackal.

  An enraged feminine sound squeezed out of Alana before small hands began pushing at him. “Save me from men and their egos. Rafe isn’t going to hurt me.”

  Affront colored Rafe’s face with broad brushstrokes as he stood tall. “No, I’m not. Not unless she’s been compromised.”

  Cade released another snarl.

  “You’re such a dick, Rafe.” Although the words were harsh, the tone held a note of exasperation.

  “He could hurt the children.” Stubborn.

  Alana’s claws curled into her hands, but she didn’t draw her weapon. “He’s not going to hurt the kids.” A hesitation, a millisecond between Cade’s heartbeats. “I trust him.”

  Cade blinked. Breath became syrup in his lungs, difficult to inhale. He struggled to disguise it as Rafe scowled at the woman who’d casually cut Cade off at the knees.

  Whatever could be said about this new model of Alana Farrah, he believed that what came out of her mouth was the truth. For her to say that she trusted him meant she trusted him.

  It fucked everything he’d vowed up until this point.

  Damn phoenix.

  “Fine.” Rafe took Alana at her word, marching toward Cade, getting in his face. Dark eyes, the color of rich espresso ringed with electric yellow, attempted to assert dominance.

  Cade held. He was nobody’s submissive. “Wolf.”

  Rafe’s nostrils flared as he took in Cade’s scent. “Jackal.”

  Alana placed a hand on her chest. “Phoenix. Well done, everyone!” She clapped her hands.

  Rafe broke away to frown at her, affectionate irritation dancing across his face. “You’re such a brat,” he commented, the growl of the wild in his voice. He reached out to grip her chin. It was a nonaggressive hold, but Cade tensed to rip the hand off anyway. “He breathes the wrong way…”

  “Forget you, I’ll gut him if he steps out of place.” Alana shoved his hand away. She thrust up her blade, which she’d withdrawn quicker than a stallion could cross a field. “You forget what I am, wolf.”

  “Yeah, you’re a badass.”

  “No respect.” Alana twirled her blade around her fingers in a display as unnerving as it was impressive. She sheathed it, nodding toward the staircase. “C’mon.”

  “Where’s he going?” Cade watched as Rafe saluted him with a finger before striding off out of the foyer’s main door.

  “Rafe’s the Hotel’s guard. He’s going to do his job.” Alana let out a keening breath, one hand rubbing her arm. “I’m hungry.”

  Protective instincts rushed to the fore as Cade squinted past the bravado. Her face was pale and tight, similar to fine crystal. Ready to shatter. “We’ll grab something the minute we’re done.”

  “Look, Cade. We keep ringing around the same rosy.” Alana stood her ground, one hand on his chest. “You want evidence. These kids…what was done to them is hard to hear, but one of the main reasons everyone joined up.”

  His hand closed over hers. “I get that. I get that everybody thinks Liberty’s a swell gal.” He blew an aggravated breath out through his nostrils. “I’ve already taken paths I wouldn’t normally have taken because it’s you. I get you’re doing a good thing here. These kids… they’ve been brutalized. I’m not saying you’re wrong. But how do you know who’s at the top? Really?” He thrust a hand through his hair, releasing her hand in the process. “How do you know Liberty isn’t on a personal vendetta against Edward?”

  She shoved at him. “Cade, you’re not even trying to believe.”

  “Trust me, pet, I’m trying, but that human you think is so evil? He saved my life.”

  His skin stretched taut over his high cheekbones. The last words he’d spoken drifted into silence, broken by the faint sound of giggling from the music room.

  She found her mouth was dry. Not knowing what to do with her hands, Ana folded them into her armpits. She leaned back gradually until she found a wall to support her.

  “When?” Her voice was a croak.

  “Eight years ago.” He tracked the slightest movement as Ana shifted. “I was on a case gone bad. Edward came to Shade’s defense, even killing his own corrupt Champion to do it.”

  A whisper of memory. “I heard about that.” She hadn’t long been with Trick’s gang then, had been obsessed with training. No inkling of the high ruler’s schemes, no Liberty, but, still, word of the high ruler saving ’Napped kids had drifted into the Maze, despite the majority not owning holo-screens. No mention of a merc being involved.

  She twisted to him. “News anchors were abuzz with the fact that the high ruler had saved kids.”

  “Yes.” Cade’s jaw tightened. “He once told me that no matter who was behind the blow, he’d see justice done. Now, tell me how that man and the one Liberty speaks of can be the same one.”

  “If Edward killed his Champion, he probably had information the high ruler didn’t want getting out.” A stubborn lift of her chin. “He couldn’t leave the kids when witnesses had heard about it.”

  Thunder crossed Cade’s face, rumbled in his chest, as he took a step toward her. “Can you even hear yourself? You’ve been brainwashed!”

  At the jackal’s growl, her own fire responded, embers quickening to flash fire under her skin. She kept it back through a thin edge of control, striving for a reasonable tone. “Cade, I know you think you know Edward. Trust me.” Her head shook in a definite negative. “You don’t. I haven’t been brainwashed—”

  “Exactly what a brainwashed person would say.”

  “Pot, kettle,” she shot back and then gestured. “Enough. There’s more you need to see. If you let yourself.” She put a hand out to him, only to curl her fingers into her palm. She shoved her hands into her pockets, smiling tightly. “Evidence, right?”

  If he’d been a string, she could’ve plucked him for a decent musical note. “Alana…” His face was pained. The next words he bit off with a curse.

  Despite what Cade believed, Ana knew there’d been a hidden agenda behind Edward’s “heroic” act. Whether he’d arranged the ’Nappings in the first place, whether he’d wanted a new Champion or wanted to groom a violent merc to his side, there was a reason beyond wanting to save both Cade’s and kids’ lives.

  Cade was still too entrenched in the man he’d built in his head to see the high ruler’s other face. The fact that the damn ruler had quoted one of Cade’s own buzzwords had the potential to make this delicate situation flick to FUBAR in a snap of the fingers.

  Ana moistened her lips with her tongue. “Just…listen, ’kay?”

  She motioned over her shoulder for him to follow. The stairs clanged with their footsteps, Cade’s heavier tread joining hers after a tense moment. Relief funneled through her, teasing flames relaxing into her core.

  “It’s been happening for over seven years,” she explained, referring to the children they’d left in the music room. “Gradual—then neighbors don’t ask questions. Most come from the Maze, some from the Outer Boundary, so who’s going to ask when people disappear?” She shook her head, hollowness to her rage that could never be filled. The children couldn’t all be recovered; they couldn’t all be saved even if they were rescued. “The adults are treated and released. But these kids, these are the lucky ones, ones we’ve rescued and treated.”

  “It’s not a hotel.” His voice remained deep, husky with unasked questions. “It’s a hospital.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cade didn’t know what to think as Alana stopped by the first door on the second floor. His mind was still torn, twisted, dizzy with trying to know what, who, to believe.

  These were definitely the kids he’d been sent to unearth. And they’d been mutilated.

  His jackal frothed for blood of the one responsible, claws pricking at the tips of Cade’s fingers. But could Edward, the man who spoke for human injustice and human
strength, possibly sanction such brutality against little ones?

  Wicked words whispered at the corners of his mind.

  He’s harvesting powers for humans. For their race to become stronger than any other.

  This could be a breakthrough for humans, Jonah.

  Humans. Not Others.

  Alana nudged the handle, pushing open the light plas-wooden door. The fresh scent of rolling meadows, often found in the Heartlands, filtered out. He dreaded to guess what was inside, his animal irate at the memory of the little demon playing her sad lullaby.

  “Gabriel?” Alana hovered in the doorway.

  The sun had almost set, a hint of light remaining to touch the darkened room, throwing it into different shades of gray. Cade watched as a small shadow separated itself from the miniature square window. He was young, between twelve and fifteen years. He didn’t come any closer.

  “Hi, Ana,” came a soft-spoken voice. “How’re you?”

  Alana gestured for Cade to close the door, before walking forward to sit, cross-legged, on the soft carpeting somebody had gone to great expense to install.

  He followed, understanding the need to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

  “Good. No new scars,” Alana teased. She shifted on the floor. “This is Cade.”

  “You knew him a long time ago.”

  Cade stiffened, jackal intrigued. He sniffed the boy’s scent a second time. What he smelled made him confused. Something familiar… “Telepath?”

  “No.” Alana laid a hand on his thigh, a simple touch that electrified as much as it quieted. “Yes, we used to know each other when I was a girl.”

  “You loved each other.”

  The silence was oppressive, cloaking the room in thickening strips of tension. Alana pointedly removed her hand from his thigh. “In some ways.” Her voice was controlled, without any hint of the emotion that had to be blazing through her like a firework about to explode.

  He still remembered her ardent declaration after their kiss, his furious happiness and his staggering awareness that he couldn’t have her, not when the Treaty had recruited him to investigate her family. Not when he couldn’t approach her father as an equal to ask for her hand.