Under: an Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance: Sector 5 (The Othala Witch Collection)

by Conner Kressley

  “I understand that,” I said, starting to get a little defensive. “I’m not an idiot, Henrick.”

  “I didn’t say you were, but you’re careless and more emotionally invested than you need to be.”

  “They tried to kill my sister and me,” I shouted. “And they did kill my parents! I think I’m exactly as emotionally invested as I need to be.”

  “They didn’t kill your parents,” he said, jerking to a stop. “They killed Razz’s parents. Razz doesn’t exist anymore. You’re Allison. You’re boring. You’re quiet. And you sure as sector don’t give a damn about the politics of the circle, let alone what that lunatic regent does.” He moved closer to me. “And do you understand why you don’t care?”

  “Because I’m not me,” I answered.

  “Because you’re mine,” he said, leaning even closer. For whatever reason, my heart sped up even faster than it had back at the dinner. His breath came quick as he looked me up and down. “You’re my wife,” he said. “At least here. You can’t think those things anymore, and if you do, you certainly can’t say them out loud. That’s not the way it works out here.”

  “But I—”

  “And you’re right,” he answered, as if reading my mind. “But your thoughts about what Prince Park would or wouldn’t do don’t matter. I promise you, if there are rumors of him with a task force, it’s because he has one.

  And, if that’s the case, it means things are worse than I imagined.”

  Swallowing hard, he said, “It leaves us with one option. Our last resort.” His gaze leveled with mine, heavy and full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry it’s come to this.”

  Chapter 17

  I stared at Gemma from across the table as she pushed her broccoli around on her plate with a wayward fork.

  “Are you going to eat or what?” I asked.

  I hated seeing her like this, upset and listless. And worse than that, I hated knowing the reason why and being unable to do anything about it.

  She dropped her fork with a clang against her plate. “He’s not coming back, you know.”

  I tensed up. She wasn’t even going to dance around it, was she?

  “I don’t know,” I countered, looking at the clock and seeing that another day had passed since Henrick last walked through our door.

  “It’s been three days. He’s not.” She sneered at me, as if it was my fault.

  “I know how long he’s been gone, Gemma.” I tossed down my own fork. “I don’t need you to tell me. If Henrick wants to come back, he will. It doesn’t matter.”

  “That damn dinner,” she muttered.

  “Watch your language!” I snapped, sounding more like our mother than I ever had in my life.

  It wasn’t the swearing that upset me. I’d used adverse wording myself from time to time. It was what Gemma’s words meant in context to the conversation. It was what she was implying. That damn dinner–the dinner I had screwed up. And maybe that was the reason he was gone. She wouldn’t bring that up, though. Regardless of how mad she might be, she would never lay that on me, not when it might mean destruction for us.

  “You’re wrong,” she said pointedly. “It does matter if he comes back. He’s the one with the connections, Razz. He’s the one who set all of this up. We can’t do it without him. We couldn’t even—” She stopped short and took a deep breath. “If it’s just us, I’m not sure we can make it.” She blinked back tears. “Everyone leaves us, Razz. Everyone either dies or runs away, and then it’s just us. I’m not sure how much more we can take.”

  I stared her right in the eyes. “As much as we have to. We’ve been through a lot, Gemma, and we’ve lost more than we’ve gained lately. But we’re still here. We’ve been chased by fire, taken captive and threatened by the Regent herself, and stranded in a Dustlands town in the middle of nowhere. And none of that has stopped us. We’re stronger than they think. And regardless of whether we have some man and his sect of resistance fighters to back us up, we will make it. I swear that to you on our parents’ souls. We’re going to make it, Gemma.”

  She looked at me for a long time, as if she was trying to decide just how sure I was. I hoped she couldn’t tell the answer. She finally picked up her fork and stabbed the broccoli with it. So it must have been okay.

  The scrape of the door opening sent shockwaves of terror through my body. I rocketed to my feet, raising my hand and letting a wave of energy flow through me.

  “Stay there,” I whispered. “I’ll take care of this.”

  I moved toward the door, remembering the promises I had just made to Gemma and knowing that the time had come to keep them.

  I wasn’t sure what I was going to find—more dancing fire, more flying guardsmen, or perhaps a different threat altogether? But it was none of those things.

  “Henrick,” I said, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of him.

  His shirt stuck damply to his chest, accentuating the broad nature of his build. With his hair damp and slicked back, it looked as if he ran his fingers through it after running through the rain.

  I narrowed my gaze at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here,” he answered. His tone conveyed it was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard, as though he hadn’t just left us in a lurch.

  “Incorrect,” I said, striding closer to him. “You used to live here. And then you abandoned us.”

  “Abandoned?” He set his jaw. “What are you talking about?”

  “You left, Henrick! You saw how much I was going to mess this up, decided it wasn’t worth it, and just took off!”

  “Did you hit your head while I was gone? Because you’re making even less sense than usual.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Now would you please let me pass? It’s raining outside. I need to get out of these clothes.”

  “Not so fast.” I threw my hand in front of me and let it rest on his chest. I wasn’t sure if it was the cool nature of my powers, but his body seemed warm in contrast. Even dripping with night rain, the temperature of his chest sent warm shivers through my arm and into the rest of my body. “If you didn’t leave, then where were you?”

  “Exactly where I told you I would be,” he said, not at all shrinking away from my touch. He stepped closer. “I told you I needed to access a last resort, and that’s what I did.” He shook his head. “Regent alive, is every Dustland girl so damned paranoid?”

  “I don’t speak for all Dustland girls, but I will tell you that all the women I know would think their guy disappearing for three days, without so much as a goodbye, while he went to investigate some vague ‘last resort’ was completely unacceptable.”

  “Their guy?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting upward. Immediately, I regretted the choice of words. “Forgive me. I didn’t realize you had already planted your flag in me.”

  “It’s a manner of speaking,” I said, biting my lip and trying my damndest not to blush. “You know what I mean.”

  “Do I?” he asked. “I don’t think I do. Why don’t you explain it to me?”

  “This isn’t a joke, Henrick,” I said, dropping my tone to a near growl.

  “I never assumed it was, Razz. I’m not the one who nearly blew our cover because she couldn’t stand to have my hands on her. And now you want to play as if we actually are husband and wife. Forgive me, but you’re going to have to clue me in here, because you’ve lost me.”

  I pulled my hand off his chest and stepped backward. “That’s not what this was about.”

  Henrick blinked hard, looking at me and then at my now-free hand. “I’m sure you can understand why I would think that.”

  “Look,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I know we’re supposed to be together. We’re supposed to be intimate—I mean, appear intimate. You know what I mean.” My cheeks burned. I really needed to stop saying that. “Anyway, we need to work on that. That’s my fault. But I’m willing to work on it if you are.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his entire body tensed up. “
And how exactly would you suggest we do that?” he asked, his intense eyes flicking up at me. “Work on it, I mean.”

  “Maybe…” I swallowed hard before steeling myself. “Maybe start by being honest with me.”

  I watched him deflate and pretended I didn’t know why.

  “Of course,” he said, his tone gaining instant formality. “What would you like to know?”

  “The last resort?”

  “Right,” he said. “It’s going to sound stupid when I say it out loud.” He looked down at the floor. “I was looking for the Beacon.”

  “The Beacon?” I ground my teeth together. “Are you serious right now?”

  “I told you,” he muttered.

  “The Beacon is a legend. The Beacon is a symbol or something. Who even knows if he exists at all?”

  “I do,” Henrick answered, sounding a little defensive. “The people I work with, the resistance—they have a lot of contacts. Some of them have even communicated with the Beacon, through proxies of course. But he’s definitely real, definitely a flesh-and-blood person, and definitely a ‘last-resort’ kind of guy.”

  “Wow…” I muttered.

  I didn’t get starstruck much. Even running into Prince Park and the regent didn’t do a whole lot to ruffle my proverbial feathers. But this—knowing someone who knew someone who knew the Beacon—that was big.

  “And?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

  “And they couldn’t get him,” Henrick said. “He’s gone dark for a few weeks now. Even his most trusted allies have no idea where he is.”

  “Well, isn’t that convenient,” I muttered.

  “Don’t do that,” Henrick answered quickly.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Don’t blame me, or fate, or yourself, or whatever you’re doing right now. I can see you softening, and I won’t have it. Softness goes hand in hand with defeat. And I need my girl angry. I need her strong.”

  “Your girl?” I asked, looking up at him from under my lashes.

  “Manner of speaking,” he answered.

  “We don’t need the Beacon,” I said finally, taking a deep breath and moving closer to him. “And I don’t mean to be angry or mean to you. But I thought you were gone. I thought you had left us. I thought you had left me. And I—”

  “Don’t have to worry about that,” he said, taking my hands in his.

  His palm was as warm and inviting as the rest of him, and it sent a sharp shudder through me. There was a spark there, between our fingertips. One that confused me. It wasn’t magic…it was chemistry. And I didn’t know what to do about it because I was still uncertain how Henrick felt. After all, I was developing a track record for reading just about every situation wrong. It was my very unfortunate Achilles heel.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he continued. He stepped closer, entering my personal space. “Not until the regent herself pulls me out of here.”

  My body trembled. He pretended not to notice, but I saw the curl that started at the ends of his lips. I didn’t care. It was nice having someone with me.

  And more than that, it was nice having him.

  “Remember how I said we should work on being more open with each other, more intimate?” I asked, looking up at him and watching as his chest rose and fell in sharp breaths.

  “Yeah,” he answered, and he was suddenly closer to me than he had ever been before. It was all happening so quickly that I couldn’t tell who was moving closer. “What about it?”

  My heart pounded so hard I felt lightheaded and could barely hear him over the roar of blood rushing to my ears. I leaned up and pressed my lips against his.

  His strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me off the floor, and my legs circled him, hooking around his waist as my ankles knotted behind his back.

  I felt weightless in his grasp. Free, happy, and most of all, safe.

  The taste of him—heat, salt, and water—seared into me like the sweetest of brandings. It was a taste I had never known before, and now I knew I would never forget it.

  A loud crash shook through the house, tearing our lips apart. Fear shot through me, but more noticeable than my panic was the ache at being away from him, at the thought that my mouth was no longer touching his.

  Henrick stared down at me as if he were trying to decide what would be the proper thing to do in this situation.

  Another sound, loud and shattering, echoed through the house. Henrick’s head craned toward the noise. In a flash, he let me go and moved to the window. He pulled the curtain back, then cursed and punched the wall.

  “What?” I asked, still half in the daze that his touch had brought.

  “It’s him,” he shouted. “Damn it! It’s Prince Park and his army.” He turned back to me. “Grab your sister. They found us.”

  Chapter 18

  My life, or all that I could remember of it, seemed to flash before my eyes.

  Prince Park had found us.

  Those words came out of Henrick’s mouth like something from one of my worst nightmares. But this wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. It was happening. And it was most likely going to be the death of us all.

  My body went rigid as I looked at Henrick, as dumbstruck and useless as I had ever been in my life.

  “Move your ass, Razz!” he yelled, apparently reading my shock.

  There was no time for emotion. Not shock. Not fear. Not anger or disbelief. All we could do was act, do what we needed to, and hope it all turned out okay.

  I spun around and ran to the bedroom. My heart was racing and sweat was already dampening my forehead, little wisps of hair clinging to my brow.

  My mind ran in a thousand different directions, but I couldn’t afford to indulge that particular sensation right now. For the second time since the sector placed Gemma in my care, she was going to be forcibly removed from a house where I told her she would be safe.

  Some replacement parent I was.

  I pushed past the guilt swirling in my head and rammed through the door to Gemma’s bedroom. She wasn’t in bed, but before I could allow myself to process that horror, I heard a loud scream and felt a sharp pain rain down on my head.

  I stumbled forward, falling to the floor and bracing myself with my palms.

  “Oh no!” I heard her say behind me.

  Turning me around swiftly, Gemma pulled me to my feet.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, looking me up and down.

  There was a candelabrum in her right hand, obviously her weapon of choice.

  I wasn’t okay, not really. Of course, most of that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my baby sister had just plowed me in the head with a hunk of metal.

  I wasn’t okay because we weren’t okay, because I had once again failed to protect her.

  But I just said, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Because, although she was certainly going to lose her cool about this, I didn’t need Gemma thinking that I would, too. I needed her to trust me. I needed her to believe that I could keep her safe.

  Even if I didn’t necessarily believe that myself.

  “What’s going on out there?” Gemma asked, looking to the open door. “I heard a noise. She…she found us, didn’t she?”

  “No,” I answered quickly.

  “Thank the maker,” Gemma breathed heavily.

  “He did,” I mumbled, wincing at the look on her face, the slow fall of relief melting to confusion. “Prince Park…he found us.”

  “What?” she asked, her eyes getting as wide as twin bales of hay. “Why’d you say no? That’s basically the same thing.”

  “It isn’t,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the room. “I promise you it isn’t. If Brula was here, we’d already be dead. The fact that she isn’t means we still have a chance.”

  Dragging Gemma behind me, I rushed toward the back door. When I reached it, I chanced one look back. Just one—it was all I dared spare the time for.

  Henrick was nowhere to be seen. He must have rushed out
side to fight them off. It would be a suicide mission. But maybe it was a mission that would buy me enough time to get Gemma to safety.

  Still, the idea of Henrick sacrificing himself for us, for me, made my heart hurt in a way that I had never experienced before. Even if it might save my sister. I’d never felt so torn.

  I took a deep breath and pushed through the back door. Henrick was a warrior. He broke us out of the center. He could make it through this. I needed to trust that. So I committed to what I was about to do next and pulled Gemma out into the backyard.

  I had yet to see any evidence of Prince Park and his people, having only taken Henrick’s word for it until now. But that didn’t last long as we left the house. The entire sky seemed to be lit up with light and flame.

  A rush of heat assaulted Gemma and me as we cleared the perimeter of our temporary home and made our way toward the line of trees that circled the backyard. It was familiar in a ridiculously tragic way. It was fire and heat that had killed our parents—that had destroyed our childhood home. It was the same fire that pulled us into this nightmare in the first place.

  And now that fire had found us.

  It was coming for us again. And whether I could afford to admit it to myself just yet or not, it was likely going to take us down.

  A ball of flame collided with the tree line in front of us. My body jerked to an immediate stop. I turned quickly and pushed Gemma behind me. Her body was shaky and lithe as she settled at my back. She was taller than me, had been since she was twelve years old, but now she hunched down, hoping to somehow disappear into my presence.

  Blinking hard, I looked up to meet my fate.

  As I expected, guardsmen flew toward me. Three of them jutted in my direction, each straddling the same type of aerial bikes that had been such a pain back in the center.

  Power rushed through my body, as if to remind me I wasn’t completely defenseless against these bastards. Of course I wasn’t. I had made quick work of some of these things back in the center. Except I was also fully aware that they’d have taken me out if not for Henrick’s excellent magical escape plan.