The Benefactor

by Dylan Steel

  As they traipsed down the wing of the house, Eliza chattered away excitedly, pointing out all the different paintings, statues, furniture. Everything had a story. Sage kept a smile pasted on her face, but she was only partly listening—she cared more about the layout of the house than the history of the would-be relics inside its walls. Artwork wouldn’t help her escape, but knowing all the exits might.

  Rows upon rows of windows lined the front of the house, and they explored every room in order. According to Eliza, the home was the oldest building on the property—nearly as old as Eprah. The Bennick family put down roots as one of the first families of benefactors, and they’d held the property the entire time, using the space as not only their personal home but a place to celebrate Eprah’s bounty with their fellow benefactors and the members of the Quorum.

  “Even the workers lived in the main house back at the beginning of the estate. Not on the main floor, obviously. In the basement,” Eliza was saying.

  Figures. Sage mumbled something unintelligible in acknowledgment. A heightened awareness of her surroundings had her on edge, and she was having trouble paying attention to anything else.

  The gleaming floors, the trinkets, and treasures—this part of the house looked strangely familiar.

  Something pricked at her skin, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up as Eliza turned another knob, allowing them to pass through the doorway.

  She sucked in a breath as she noticed a tapestry on the wall. She knew there was a stairwell behind it. She’d been here before. She’d almost escaped from here before.

  And she was not going to be a prisoner here again. Not another day.

  Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest, she was surprised Eliza hadn’t commented on it. Without a word, she turned and walked back out of the room, picking up speed and ignoring the pain ripping through her legs. She didn’t need Eliza to guide her to where she was going next. She remembered exactly where the front door was.

  And this time, she was walking straight out of it.

  “Sage? Sage, wait. Hang on!”

  Eliza scurried after her, but Sage didn’t stop moving until she’d thrown open the front door and pounded down the steps.

  “What’s wrong?” Eliza asked, gulping for breath.

  She stalked back and forth at the bottom of the stairs, looking around wildly. Eliza was nice and all, but she wasn’t about to tell her that she’d just realized her new home shared the same four walls as her old prison cell.

  “I just needed to get some fresh air.” Sage glanced up. The look on Eliza’s face said she wasn’t buying it.

  “You just bolted.”

  “I just—it’s all a little overwhelming, ok? I mean, one day, I have a good job in the city and a pair who—” She cut herself off, choking back rising emotions. “And then the next, I’m in a whole new place with a new pair—a benefactor—and I don’t know anything about what I’m supposed to do or who he really is or why he—” Sage stopped. She realized that everything that had tumbled out was actually true, and she’d shared more than she’d meant to.

  “I’m sorry,” Eliza said gently. “I didn’t realize…”

  “It’s fine,” Sage said, a little more harshly than she’d intended. Eliza recoiled, and Sage softened her tone as she continued, “Sorry, I—sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I think I just need to take a walk or something. Clear my head.”

  “Ok…”

  “I might… I think I’d like to be alone for a little while. Not that I’m not glad we’ve been talking,” she added quickly. “It’s just—I’m kind of a mess right now.”

  “I get it. And I have to start work pretty soon, so I couldn’t really stay much longer anyway,” Eliza said. Her words were mismatched with the hurt on her face.

  “Great,” Sage said, pushing aside the feelings of guilt cropping up in her chest. She barely knew this girl, and if things went like she hoped, she’d never see her again. Her freedom was more important than some easily bruised feelings. “Can you show me which way is the best way to go? So I don’t go too far? Because, you know.” Sage held up her wrist, twisting it so her bracelet slid back and forth.

  Eliza paused, looking uncertain.

  “What, do you think I’ll go too far?”

  She bit her lip, not answering.

  “Oh, come on. I’m probably tethered. I won’t go too far,” Sage lied. That was exactly what she was planning to do.

  She sighed. “I still don’t think you’re tethered, but you’d have to be crazy to risk it, so ok. If you go that way,” Eliza motioned to the forest on their right, “it’s only a couple miles before the property line, but if you head over there, I think you could walk a couple days without hitting the end of the estate.”

  Sage’s eyebrow jerked up. “A couple days?”

  “Mountains.” Eliza shrugged as if that was enough of an explanation. “Never hiked them for more than a few hours myself.”

  “So I guess that way should be safe.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks.” Sage offered her an appreciative smile and waved back at her as she started walking toward the mountains. Every instinct urged her to sprint in the opposite direction toward the tree line, but she fought it. If Eliza or anyone else saw her running, she’d never make it all the way out of the estate.

  She went farther than she wanted to, worried that if she glanced back too soon, she’d find she was still being watched. By the time she finally got up the nerve to check, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Good enough.

  Unwilling to waste any more time on the charade, she switched course, picking up her pace. If she hurried, she could make it through the other side of the woods and off the property before it got dark.

  Before long, she was out of the field, picking her way over roots and branches. As she moved deeper into the woods, the house disappeared from sight behind her. Her heart was pounding, and her thighs still burned with exertion, but she didn’t pause for breath. If she stopped at all, she might start wondering again—wondering if she was really tethered or if Eliza had been right. Wondering if she was walking to her death.

  At least she was walking to freedom.

  Maybe the benefactor had done her a favor, taking her out of the city. It’s not like she could’ve gotten outside the gates on her own without the right tech. And her bag that held the right tech was long gone—probably picked up and destroyed by Beautification without anyone so much as looking inside. Or maybe Dred had been in the alley’s shadows all along, waiting for her to give up and go home so that he could steal the tech without having to offer her anything in return.

  She gritted her teeth as branches crunched under her foot. Probably just out for himself. Throppin Rogue.

  Not that she didn’t want to be a Rogue—that was still her plan, after all—but she’d be different.

  Sage looked over her shoulder every few steps, unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched. She hadn’t seen anyone, but an uneasy feeling had taken hold of her, and it wasn’t letting go.

  It’s nothing, Indarra. Chill.

  Slipping her fingers beneath her collar, she rubbed the smooth surface of her mother’s necklace. It would’ve been nice to be better prepared, to take some supplies with her, but this might be her only chance. Weston could be home anytime, and if she didn’t go now, she was sure she’d lose her nerve.

  Surviving wasn’t enough anymore. Live or die, she was going to be free.

  She pressed on, her footsteps muffled by the moist, mossy ground as she stumbled through the woods. She pushed aside a low branch and nearly tripped over a raised root, catching herself with a gasp.

  A voice rang out, piercing the quiet songs of nature.

  “Hello? Who—”

  Sage froze. Her head whipped in the direction of the voice. It was a man. No one she recognized. He stood unmoving several yards away, just staring at her through the trees.

  “Hey, you’re—”

  Panic
erupted inside her. She didn’t wait around to hear the rest of what he said. Wind whipped past her ears, drowning out his shouts.

  He was running after her. Branches and brush snapped and swooshed behind her.

  Her legs screamed at her to stop, but she pushed through the pain. Stopping meant she’d be put back in a cage. Stopping meant death—either of her body or her soul—and she wasn’t ready to give up yet.

  “Stop!”

  His voice was louder than before. Closer.

  He was gaining on her.

  Flames shot up Sage’s thighs. She gritted her teeth, begging her body to cooperate. If she could use the forest to her advantage, she might be able to trip him up and gain some ground.

  Not far ahead of her, a thick branch jutted out at chest level. That’d do. She veered a little to the right, planning on darting back left at the last minute and ducking below it. With any luck, he’d hit it and be off her trail until he could regain his breath.

  Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she caught a flash of bright red hair flying between branches. The curiosity nearly cost her the small edge she had. Her ankle slipped as she turned back around. She yelped but didn’t stop. Five seconds until the branch.

  Four.

  Three.

  “Ooomphf!”

  Something solid slammed into Sage’s side, knocking her to the ground. Darkness ripped across her vision as the wind rushed from her lungs.

  “Got her, Trey!” A new voice hovered over her body. Sage’s fingers curled tight around a clump of grass as her lungs burned for oxygen.

  “Don’t let her up yet—but don’t hurt her.”

  “I won’t, I won’t. Mind telling me why you were chasing her?” He paused, adding, “And who she is?”

  Sage groaned, sucking in a mouthful of damp earth as she finally managed to take a breath. The side of her head was throbbing, and her ear was hot enough to be on fire. Her body felt heavier than normal. She tried to move, but a gentle pressure against her back increased, pinning her easily in place as the voices kept talking above her.

  “That’s Mr. Bennick’s new pair.”

  The second voice whistled. “You don’t say.”

  “Like you couldn’t guess.”

  “Well, you never can be sure…”

  “Knock it off and help me here, Jonah.”

  “Jo-nah? I heard… uh-bow you,” she slurred unintelligibly into the dirt.

  Two pairs of hands gripped Sage under her arms, lifting her to her feet. Wincing, she tried to shift her weight to the side she hadn’t been body slammed on, but the hands held her firmly in place.

  “Why were you running?”

  Sage squinted. Red hair and branches and dirt twisted in front of her. She blinked. Lightning lanced its way up her side. Why was she running?

  “Sage?”

  She stared blankly at the man’s face in front of her as her vision began clearing. The fog in her brain slowly lifted, and she realized a different man was holding each of her arms. She jerked against them, but their grips got stronger.

  “Let me go,” she hissed, swinging her head back and forth between the two men.

  “Why were you running?” Trey repeated.

  She glared back at him, then thrashed against their hold again. Neither of them budged, but she’d been expecting that this time. She thrust her foot out, catching Jonah in the back of the leg, sending him crashing to the ground. He let go of her to catch himself, and Sage twisted into a better angle to attack Trey. Her free fist flew toward his stomach, but he jumped backward, pulling her with him and throwing her off balance.

  A moment later, her cheek was digging into the bark of a nearby tree, her arm wedged painfully behind her.

  “You ok?” Trey called over his shoulder.

  “Fine,” Jonah said, getting to his feet.

  “I guess you answered my question,” Trey said, breathing heavy behind her ear.

  “Weston said I was free to explore the grounds.” She grunted, raising up on her tiptoes as she tried to escape the pain shooting through her shoulder.

  “If that was all you were doing, why’d you run?”

  “I don’t know you!”

  “That’s easy enough to fix. I’m Trey, and over there’s Jonah. Still doesn’t really answer my question though. Why were you running?”

  “For all I knew, you were a crazy person. Or a Rogue—aaghh.” Her jaw scraped up the side of the tree as she strained against his hold. “And I’m still not convinced you’re not crazy,” she spat.

  “You know, I don’t really believe you.”

  “Yeah, Rogues know better than to be on Bennick land.”

  “Quiet, Jonah,” Trey snapped, then turned back to Sage. “You know what I think? I think you were trying to bolt. Get as far away from here as possible.”

  “Why? I don’t even know if I’m tethered. That could be suicide.”

  “Honey, that doesn’t mean that’s not what you were doing. It just means I’m not the crazy one.” His words hung in the air for a moment.

  She clenched her teeth. “Well, if that’s what you think, why don’t you just strip my Chances and be done with it?”

  “Oh, no. No, no. Mr. Bennick wouldn’t be happy about that. I gotta take you home.” Trey shifted his weight behind her, pressing her against the tree more firmly. “Jonah, you got a belt on?”

  “Uh… yeah?”

  “Take it off.”

  “What? Why?”

  Trey sighed. “Unless you want another dirt sandwich, we’re gonna need a little help making sure the benefactor’s pair cooperates on the way back.”

  Jonah hesitated, then started fumbling with his belt. “Fine.”

  “I don’t wanna hurt you, Sage, but make no mistake—I will. Quite frankly, I don’t trust you to come quietly,” Trey said in her ear. “Now if you cooperate, this’ll be a lot more pleasant for all of us, and I won’t have to explain to Mr. Bennick why you have bruises all over that lovely face of yours.”

  Sage’s face ground deeper into the bark as her hands were forced together behind her. A band of leather was wrapped around her wrists, digging in. She bit back a cry. Trey’s hand wrapped around her bicep, yanking backward so fast she nearly stumbled.

  “Time to go.”

  Sage craned her neck to look over her shoulder at what she was leaving behind, but all she could see was Jonah’s stern face urging her forward. Forcing her eyes forward, her heart sank with each step away from freedom.

  That had been her last chance.

  8. COMPLICATIONS

  Heavy footsteps stopped just inside the door. Light flooded the room. Her breathing quickened.

  “Sage.”

  It was a strange sensation, feeling her own name rumble deep within her bones. Sage winced and hugged her legs tighter, refusing to lift her head from her knees. She wasn’t exactly sure where this conversation was heading, but she had a pretty good idea that she wouldn’t like it—if she even survived it.

  After nearly two weeks away, Weston was finally back. And she’d spent every minute of his absence locked in her room. That is, every minute since she’d gotten caught trying to run away. Trey and Jonah had deposited her there after they’d caught her, and after they’d explained the situation to Martha, Sage hadn’t been allowed out again. She’d barely even glimpsed the statue outside her room when meals were brought to her room. Apparently, Martha didn’t trust her not to try to run again. Smart woman.

  And she had tried again. Sort of. But her options were more limited from the plush confines of her room. Pounding on the door hadn’t done any good, and even the window was locked—not that she could’ve survived that high of a jump anyway.

  Today, she was finally going to be punished for trying to escape.

  She’d known this moment was coming. She’d been dreading it.

  The footsteps came closer. Then the couch cushion bowed beside her. She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t need to look up to know that Weston was sitting
right beside her. Barely-controlled anger was coming off of him in waves.

  “You’re not going to look at me?”

  She froze, not answering. Her fingers dug into her arms harder.

  Would it be death? Or something worse?

  Weston exhaled slowly. He was so close, she could feel his breath warming her skin. Her stomach turned.

  “I don’t see any point in dragging this out. We both know what happened while I was away.” Frustration leaked into his tone. “Not only did you run, but you attacked two of my workers.”

  His hand settled on her shoulder. “Sage, look at me.”

  Dread wrapped itself around every inch of her skin, wrenching against her as she struggled to lift her eyes to his. When she finally managed to look up, ice blue streaks flecked with sharp cobalt captured her gaze, refusing to release her. She sucked in a breath.

  “What were you thinking? Why would you run?”

  “I wasn’t—this is all just a huge mis—”

  “Never—” He stopped her, his voice unsettlingly quiet. “—Never lie to me, Sage. You will regret it if you do.”

  His words crashed over her, crushing her beneath the weight of their accusation. She swallowed. For once, she was convinced things would go worse for her if she lied.

  He blinked, and that moment was enough to sever the hold he had on her. She lowered her gaze in relief.

  “I saw it,” she whispered, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. “I saw the rooms I ran through when I tried to escape. When I was kidnapped. It was here. This house.”

  “It was years ago,” he growled.

  “I was just a kid,” she snapped back, surprised by her own boldness.

  “And I wasn’t the one who kidnapped you. I can’t change what happened to you back then. I’m not my mother. Or my father.” His voice was low. Dangerous. “You didn’t given me much of an opportunity to prove it to you before deciding—what, that you were better off on your own? How’d that work out for you?”

  Sage glared back at him. “I was just going for a walk.”