white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3)

by Sara Baysinger

  The cupola light floods the streets like natural moonlight. It’s not too dark, but dark enough to make one know it’s nighttime. The streets illuminate in chunks when we set foot on them. If no one knew we were here by our grand entrance into the cupola, they certainly would know by the streets illuminating everywhere we go.

  We walk for what seems like an hour. The sky slowly lights with the promise of dawn.

  “I’m surprised no one’s come for us yet,” Thorne says.

  “Me too. They have to be watching us. Unless everyone sleeps in Nashville at night.” That’s one thing Frankfort never did—sleep. Still, no city is dumb enough not to keep a nightshift on the lookout.

  Traffic begins picking up, and Thorne and I step onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians begin crowding around the sidewalks, too, and within the hour, the city is buzzing with activity.

  But no one arrests us. No one shoots us. But they do stare. They look at Thorne’s red Defender uniform and my T-shirt and jeans like they’ve never seen anything so ugly before.

  And no wonder.

  The clothes they wear shimmer in the light, almost like they’re glowing. Women and men alike wear flowing shirts, all made of the silky material, all different, but bright colors. Their pants are silver and flowing.

  I want clothes like these. They’re beautiful. They make their owners glow like gods. No wonder Titus compared this place to heaven.

  The more people I look at, the more I realize Titus wasn’t exaggerating their age. Everyone, apart from the children, appears to be in their twenties. Their skin is flawless. They look young and healthy—no one is oversized and no one possesses an unhealthy thinness. Some smile and nod, their teeth perfectly straight and white. And they all seem so…happy. Not at all how I pictured Nashville after the conversation I had with Prometheus on the phoneband. Overall, their appearance is unearthly and eerie.

  “Well,” Thorne says while we watch the activity. “Clearly they’re waiting for us to come to them. So, who should we ask for direction from first?”

  I glance around. We must look so lost, wearing these hideous clothes and going nowhere while everyone around us apparently has some place to be. After traveling all night on foot, then driving for hours, and wearing clothes that are decades behind the fashion trends compared to what these people are wearing, I feel way too ugly to be seen in public. And by the disgusted looks from the others, I know they’re thinking the same thing. None of them would believe I was the Chief of Ky.

  Or maybe they would. We’re probably Neanderthals to them.

  I look around, waiting for someone to make eye contact with me, to look at my eyes instead of my clothes, when a woman with a brilliant smile and straight blond hair strides toward us. And she’s looking right at me. She must be here to collect us, although she doesn’t have any backup. No Defenders, no guards. It’s just her. She couldn’t be that much older than me. Maybe in her early twenties. She stops in front of us.

  “Hello, and welcome to Nashville.” Her eyes finally roam down our clothes. “Wow. I thought Titus wore ancient gear, but what you’re wearing almost looks like something I would find in an antique store.”

  Thorne clears his throat. “Um, who are you?”

  She lifts her eyes back to his, and the look of disgust evaporates, replaced with that dazzling smile. “My name’s Summer. I don’t know you,” she says to Thorne. Then her eyes snap to meet to mine. “But I think I know who you are. You look too much like Titus to be anyone else. You’re Rory.”

  My stomach tightens. I hate that nickname. “Call me Aurora, please.”

  “Or Chief,” Thorne cuts in. “And I’m Defender Mcallister. We’re here to pick up Chief Aurora’s son, Gideon.”

  “Of course. Titus told us you would come.” Her smiles falters. “Though he told us he suggested you to stay home.”

  “And you’re here to arrest us, am I right?”

  She shrugs. “Kind of. But I’m also here to help you.”

  “You have that kind of power?”

  She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Of course I do. I have all the power I need to run this city.”

  “Wait, are you…are you…the leader of Nashville?”

  “One of them. Although Prometheus has ultimate control. But don’t worry; I have a pretty good influence on him.” She smiles and winks. “I’m his grandmother.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  AURORA

  Thorne coughs beside me.

  “Did you say…grandmother?”

  “Yep.”

  “You don’t…look old enough to be a grandma.”

  She sighs. “People in Frankfort still age, don’t they?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No. Not with the daily supplements we take. Though some people refuse to take them because of the fear of long-term effects. But I’ve been taking them since I was twenty-three, and look at me.” She smiles widely and spins around. “I look exactly like I did when I started taking them.”

  “Does it…make you immortal?”

  She shrugs. “No, unfortunately. But I will live a long life. And I also get to have a young body until the day I die.”

  I want to ask more about these supplements. I want to ask if she feels as young as she looks, how these supplements work, what other technology they have—but I stop myself. That’s not why we’re here.

  “Where’s Gideon?”

  Her smile fades, her joy replaced with honest concern. “He’s fine. But you’ll have to come with me now.”

  I know better than to fight. If she’s the leader’s grandmother, there are no doubt soldiers on guard ready to shoot us if we resist. And the best way to stay on her good side is to play along.

  “Titus took him away from me,” I say, desperate to get her on my side as we walk. “Did he—did he tell you that? That he disguised himself as someone else, ripped my baby from my arms, and then proceeded to tell me it was the rebels who took him?”

  She slows for only a split second, then continues walking. “No,” she says. “I didn’t know that.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Only that your country is in an upheaval. He told us you were unstable and hysterical.” She casts a glance at me before looking ahead again. “And that you sided with rebels to take your brother down and replaced him as chief. Gideon is his son, and he only wants to keep his son safe.”

  “He’s my son.”

  She waves her hand in the air. “I don’t have a clue how your culture works. A sister sleeping with a brother is slightly disturbing here, so I try to keep my nose out of it.”

  “It’s disturbing in Ky, too,” Thorne says. “Titus forced her into it.” He looks at me, as though searching for affirmation.

  “I didn’t have a choice.” I grit my teeth against the tight clench in my stomach. Summer’s eyes fill with concern, and heat creeps up my neck. Will I ever be able to talk about this without feeling completely exposed? “So, can you tell me who’s been taking care of my son this whole time?”

  She seems to take the hint that I don’t want to talk about Titus right now.

  “I have,” she says.

  I stop. “You?”

  “Well, I have nursemaids. But he’s under my direct surveillance. He’s a good boy. You will be impressed with how bright he is at only two years old.”

  My heart shudders. Two years old! I knew he was this age. I’ve counted his days, months, years every single day since he was born. But realization seems to be just now sinking in that I'm actually going to see him…and he won’t be a baby anymore. He won’t even remember me. How will I get him to come home with me? “Are you going to take us to see him?”

  “Unfortunately not.” She offers a sad smile. “Titus has him.”

  My stomach twists. I’ll be lucky if Gideon is still alive, with the short-tempered Titus as his caregiver.

  “Titus and Prometheus are…friends, I guess you could say,” Summer is
saying. “So Prometheus will clearly choose Titus's side over yours.”

  “Does he know we’re here?”

  “Yes. Just as you suspected, we’ve been watching you since you walked through the cupola.”

  Thorne chokes out a laugh. “What took you so long to get to us?”

  “We had to get as much information from you as possible before intervening. It was easy to hear your conversation on the empty streets. When the streets became more crowded and we couldn’t hear you anymore, that tactic was pointless.”

  I’m surprised at how open she is. Why she bothers explaining herself to two intruders. I don’t know if it should set me at ease or put me on guard. She leads us inside one of the silver skyscrapers. We step into an open lobby that has a silver tile floor and windows for walls. We enter a glass elevator. The doors slide shut, and it begins ascending above the city. I stare at the glorious silver skyscrapers of Nashville, then turn to find Summer studying me. Her eyes are as blue as the sky, her hair straight and blond. If the seasons could actually take the form of humans, summer would look just like her. Blond hair is rare in Ky. Forest was one of the few who had it.

  “So, where are you taking us?” I finally ask.

  Her pink lips pull up into a half smile. “Prometheus wanted me to take you to prison. But I’m taking you to a hotel room. You’ll still be locked in and monitored.” She flips her hand in the air. “But at least your quarters will be comfortable.”

  “Thanks.” I guess. But my insides are twisting inside out. Because we’re essentially prisoners now, and prisoners can’t just leave. My throat tightens. It’s been a few months since I’ve been locked up. After the taste of freedom, this is going to be torturous.

  She opens the door for us and ushers us in. There are no guards, but she takes a black device out of her pocket that resembles a stamp. “Tilt your head.”

  My heart begins pounding, but I do as I’m told. She presses the device against the side of my neck and I hear a click, but feel nothing. She does the same thing to Thorne.

  “I’m sorry,” she says with a sad smile. “But all citizens must be monitored, and you two are no exception.”

  “So, what now?” Thorne asks. “You said you wanted to help us.”

  “I do. Especially after hearing that Gideon was taken from you by force.” She reaches out and places her hand on my shoulder, her aqua eyes once again filled with sorrow. “I lost one of my children, too, when he was only three. I understand the heartache.” She drops her hand. “I do want to help. Let’s hope my influence over Prometheus is enough.” She turns to leave.

  “Wait,” I say. “This…Prometheus. What’s he like? Can he be reasoned with?”

  Her smile is strained. “He’s a lot like how I imagine Titus would be like as a leader.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  AURORA

  He’s how I imagine Titus would be like as a leader.

  Summer’s words echo in my mind while I stare out the glass wall at the silver world outside. It’s a hundred-foot drop straight into a lake from the balcony. The lake stretches far, the city of Nashville built around it, slivery-blue skyscrapers glistening. It’s past noon, and no one has come to get us yet.

  “What are you thinking?” Thorne asks.

  “I’m wondering if we should bolt before Prometheus gets to us.”

  Thorne’s eyes immediately dart around the room, looking for a camera, no doubt. I’m sure we’re being watched, but who cares at this point?

  “Did she lock us in?” Thorne asks, looking at me now.

  “Let’s check.” Not caring who’s watching or what sort of trouble I could get in, I stride to the door and twist the knob. It opens. Wow. So easy. I peek around the corner. “No guards.”

  “Seriously? I haven’t seen a guard since we stepped into the city.” He comes up behind me and peers over my shoulder. “Huh.”

  I step aside so he could get a better view of the hall. “Should we…”

  As if reading my thoughts, he steps out, but as soon as he’s across the threshold loud alarms pierce my ears and a mist fills the air. I get a whiff and my lungs close. My eyes start to burn. I cover my eyes, gasp and gasp and step back into the room where the air is clear, and I’m able to breathe again. But when I look back through my tears, Thorne still stands in the hall, hunched over, gripping his middle and gasping for air. Taking a deep breath, I bolt out of the room grab his arm, and lead him back into the bedroom. The alarms cease. The mist disappears.

  Thorne drinks in the clean air, deep inhales followed by hard coughs.

  Once he’s able to catch his breath, he sinks down onto the couch, leans his head back, and breathes. I sink down on the floor, my eye stinging.

  “It’s like pepper spray,” he says, his voice hoarse.

  Once my eyes stop burning and I’m able to see better, I walk to the window to search another means of escape. I wonder what would happen if we tried to leap into the lake. Or is it a lake? What if it’s a vat of acid, or worse? There has to be a reason they locked us up by a lake. There has to be a reason there are no guards. They can monitor our every move by the stamps on our necks. They have technology I’ve never heard of, and I’m not sure I want to test the limits if it could possibly mean my immediate death.

  We’ll just have to wait and see what Prometheus says.

  I heave out a sigh and return to the couch where Thorne has recuperated. He leans back on the couch, staring at the wall.

  “What now?” I ask, more to myself than Thorne.

  “If you stare at the picture long enough, a tiger appears,” he says, his voice still raw and husky.

  I follow his gaze to a massive, framed picture on the wall that appears to be made up of mosaics of smaller pictures. The longer I stare at the center, the more the picture pops out. I blink and look away, my eyes watering.

  “How does it do that?” I ask.

  “I have no idea. It’s fascinating.”

  I decide to forget, for just a moment, how screwed we are, and stare at the picture again. The mosaics come alive, different squares popping out, but despite my tears, I don’t look away. I stare until the tiger’s head forms, and after staring at it a full minute, my gaze can wander over the picture without losing focus of the tiger’s head. It’s calming, this ability to regroup and refocus. This ability to slow my mind down enough to see beyond the picture.

  It makes me wonder what I’m missing in my real life. What is so wrong with Titus that makes him so sadistic? How could he have a clear conscience keeping me locked up my whole life, having a baby with me, then taking that baby away? How could he be okay with controlling the minds of his people while they served the Patricians? How could he then trade his own subject in for insignificant luxuries like coffee?

  How could he shoot his best friend in the head and sentence his own sister to death?

  I used to look up to Titus. I used to think he had reasons for doing what he did. But I realize he’s heartless and careless and might possibly have no soul. I see him the way Rain and the Resurgence saw him. I understand why they were so hesitant to accept me. It’s because all they knew about me was that I worked for him those first few weeks, when I was posing as Ember. All they knew was that I lived under the same roof as him. So those who could see past that, those who could see me for me, seriously deserve my utmost gratitude. People like Walker, Ember.

  And Thorne.

  I look at Thorne. He continues to face the picture, but his eyes have dropped and his mind is clearly elsewhere. I wonder if he used the picture only to distract me from my own dark thoughts.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  He straightens and looks at me. “For what?”

  “For…believing in me. For choosing to see me as me and not as Titus. For giving me a chance to prove myself. For coming after me last night. And for supporting my decision to get Gideon back. For trusting me.” Wow. So much to be thankful for.

  Hi
s Adam’s apple bobs in a hard swallow while he searches my eyes. “It’s my duty—”

  “No, it’s not. Your duty is to the Resurgence. But you believed in me long before they did.”

  He presses his lips together. Then nods.

  “Why?” I ask. I suddenly have his desperate need to know why the Captain of Defenders, who has every right to hate me and my family, chose to give me a chance.

  “I saw something in you even before Ember did.” He speaks slowly. “I saw you in those caverns. I could almost feel your confusion, your regret as I followed you around acting as your body guard. I heard your arguments with Ember in your tent. And I heard your tears after Ember would leave.”

  I look at my hands, my face flaming with humiliation.

  “I knew you were locked up all those years,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “And I imagined your longing to fly away from that room. I saw you as a broken, confused girl who only needed to be pointed in the right direction. And when you were pointed, you proved your worth, Aurora. You were strong and invincible.”

  I force a small laugh. Invincible. Titus would be laughing hysterically. You will never be able to lead. You’re a failure. This government will crush you.

  Krin, on the other hand, would be nodding her head in agreement with Thorne.

  “I’m not very invincible now, am I?” I ask.

  “You still can be, if you choose to.”

  “How? I’m locked in this room.” I gesture around the hotel room. “Who knows what Prometheus has in mind? I don’t think we’re going to get out of this one, Thorne.” Regret fills me for pulling him into this mess.

  “You might not be able to get out physically. But being invincible isn’t only about conquering the battles in the physical world.”

  I narrow my eyes, confused.

  “I still sense a lot of confusion in you,” he whispers, leaning forward. “Your hatred toward Titus is palpable.”

  It strikes me how perceptive Thorne is, how this Captain of Defenders can see into my very soul.