The Benefactor

by Dylan Steel

  His jaw rippled under his stubble. “Now, why does that sound familiar?”

  She pursed her lips, fighting a retort. Anything she said now could be all the justification he needed in his own mind to end her life, and she could see she’d already pushed him right to the edge.

  He breathed out slowly, struggling to keep calm. “None of that matters. That’s not what we need to talk about right now. You—”

  “Am I tethered?” she blurted out.

  Weston paused, leaning back calmly, assessing. “You want to know if you would’ve died. If you’d made it past the estate lines.”

  She nodded.

  “Which answer would make you feel better? Honestly?” He studied her intensely. “Knowing you came close to dying and were saved? Or knowing you could have left me behind but you missed your chance?”

  “I… I don’t know,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “I’d hoped the uncertainty would be enough of a deterrent, but I was obviously mistaken.” She thought she saw a flicker of pain cross his face, but she doubted that was possible. “I had no idea you hated me so much.”

  “I don’t hate you.” Her voice trembled, but she lifted her eyes. “I don’t really know you.”

  He stared at her for a moment, not saying anything. “Then I suppose we’ll have to remedy that.”

  She swallowed hard. “How, exactly?” The question came out as no more than a whisper.

  “I don’t think it’ll come as much of a surprise. You ran the first chance you had. You’ve proven to me that I can’t trust you to stay by my side willingly. I no longer have a choice, and I don’t particularly appreciate having decisions made for me.” His eyes flashed violently. “You’ll have to be tethered. Officially. That’s what I came here to tell you.”

  “But what about the baby? Isn’t that a problem for—” She caught a flash of anger behind his eyes and stopped, biting her lip.

  He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before answering. “There is no baby.”

  “What?” Her heart pounded in her ears. “You know there is. You said yourself—”

  “I was a doctor before I was a benefactor, Sage. A blood test was one of the first things I did after I found you in the alley.” The muscles in his jaw were rigid. “This isn’t news to you.”

  The last ember of hope she’d been clinging to burned out in that moment. Her shoulders sagged. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

  “Truthfully, I wanted you to tell me when you were ready. I wanted to give you time to trust me on your own. But as I said before, things are more complicated now.”

  “Because I tried to run.”

  “Among other things.” Weston stood and began pacing in front of her. “My life is full of complications, and despite my position in Eprah, I cannot control them all.”

  “If I’m such a complication, why am I here?” Her fingers curled into fists as she watched him warily. “Why not just let me go?”

  He pinned her with a deathly serious look. “Back to what?”

  Her teeth ground together. They both knew she was as good as dead if she went back to the city, and she couldn’t admit that she was planning to leave Eprah and never look back.

  “What do you want?” she asked softly.

  “I want you to be honest with me.”

  “You don’t want that,” she said with a wry laugh.

  “It would be better for both of us.” He tilted his head. “I’m well aware of my position and how it makes others feel. People aren’t often honest with someone who holds the power of life and death over them.” His lips twitched. “But be very careful assuming what I want.”

  Sage’s stomach churned uneasily. The game she was playing with him now was dangerous. Her survival required her to figure out what he wanted. He was smart enough to realize that. Was he taunting her?

  “Do you remember when I asked you why you were in the alley that night?” Weston asked, changing the subject as he reached a hand into his pocket.

  She nodded bitterly.

  He pulled out a tech egg, rolling it casually between his fingers. “I noticed a bag in the middle of everything. It didn’t look as trashed as most of the alley, so I thought it might belong to you, and I picked it up. But then I found this inside, and I know you don’t have clearance for it.” His eyes flicked to hers. “So it couldn’t possibly have been your bag.”

  Heat flared in her cheeks. She didn’t say anything. There was no point in lying, and she couldn’t tell the truth.

  “But of course, you didn’t need a bag full of supplies. And you certainly had no need for a device that would remove your bracelet. You were just going for a walk. Just like the other day when Trey and Jonah found you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

  He shot her a sharp look. “I doubt that very much. Though I don’t doubt you regret getting caught.”

  She pushed herself off the couch, willing herself closer to the man who determined her fate. She stopped right in front of him, locking eyes. If she couldn’t find a way to change his mind, she’d be tethered tomorrow.

  “No. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Sage, don’t,” he said firmly, a warning in his tone. “I know more about you than you could imagine.”

  The words sent a chill down her spine. The message was clear. She was out of her depth. There was no chance she was ever leaving. He was never letting her go.

  “First thing tomorrow, you and I are heading back to the city. The Dignitary of the Peace oversees tethers, so we’ll be paying him a visit.” He stared at her for a long moment, then brushed her hair back from her shoulder—a gesture that was strangely intimate, almost tender. She tensed. “Now get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

  As he made his way to the door, something inside her snapped. Disgust flared up inside her. How dare he be so cavalier about her freedom—her life—her future? Eprah may have given him his authority, but he had no right.

  She stomped forward, putting her hands on her hips as she glared at him. “Is this what all benefactors are like? ‘Obey me or suffer the consequences’?”

  He paused and cast a glance back at her over his shoulder. “You’ll soon find that there are no other benefactors like me,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  With that, the door closed behind him, leaving her alone in silence.

  9. THE DIGNITARY

  “Sorry, sir, excuse me.” The man scurried away as fast as he could, refusing to look directly at either Sage or Weston as he disappeared.

  He was the third person to accidentally cross their path that morning—and the third person to bolt in the other direction.

  Walking through Eprah with a benefactor at her side was a completely new experience. The distinct way Weston carried himself was unmistakable. Everyone recognized him—or at least, they recognized his power. His fearlessness. No one walked that confidently through Eprah’s streets without the Chances to back it up.

  She wondered how she hadn’t immediately realized he was a benefactor when she met him. His deliberate stride, his broad stature, his ever-assessing eyes, his features unmarred by worry or hardship—he looked like a benefactor.

  Of course, she wasn’t walking with nearly the sense of purpose that he was. In fact, she was having trouble keeping up with his stride. Not only was she forcing herself to choke back a rising panic with every step toward her new sentence as a tethered pair, but she was also incredibly sore from hours of riding. In reality, she knew it was only a minor annoyance, but it was an easier thing to focus on than her disintegrating freedom.

  Weston had access to several small trailers, but he’d insisted they ride. Said it was faster and that she needed to get used to it. Sage didn’t have much say in the matter. She might not be tethered yet, but she was still wearing Eprah’s bracelet, and he was the better rider. There was no way she could’ve gotten far enough away fast enough to escape him. He might not h
ave kidnapped her, but she was just as much his hostage now as she’d been his mother’s all those years earlier.

  Dignitary of the Peace.

  Shiny gold letters greeted them as they neared the building. Sage’s heart leapt into her throat, beating so fast she thought she might pass out. Her brave facade crumbled, and she froze a few steps behind Weston just outside the main doors.

  “Sage?”

  She blinked, barely registering that he’d spoken. He sounded so far away. She peered up at him as he came closer. “Please don’t do this,” she whispered.

  His jaw tightened. “You did this. I can’t protect you if you run from me.”

  She glared at him, momentarily wishing he hadn’t noticed her in the alley that night a few weeks ago. He had to have some sort of hero complex. Why else would he enslave her and insist that he was protecting her? It was psychotic.

  “You’ll be fine.” Weston rested his hand on the small of her back and leaned over, lips brushing against her hair as he spoke in a low voice. “Stay close to me. If they know you’re with me, they won’t dare strip any of your Chances.”

  She nodded weakly, not fighting as he applied the slightest pressure against her spine, ushering her inside.

  The lobby was a flurry of activity, but she barely noticed. Several groups of officers stood clustered together, arguing about things that didn’t make any sense from the snippets of conversation she caught.

  But then the voices fell away, and the room quieted down.

  Weston had told her that everyone at the Peace would want her dead after what had happened in the alley, but until that moment, she hadn’t really believed it was true. Her skin burned as dozens of angry eyes turned on her, watching as she walked by. Weston hadn’t been wrong. If he hadn’t been with her, she doubted she would have survived the short walk to the Transfer. Even if she hadn’t been paired with a benefactor, going back to her job was no longer an option.

  They didn’t even bother approaching the front desk. The woman standing behind it nodded them ahead and bent over a comm, no doubt letting the Dignitary know that a benefactor was on his way to see him.

  The noise in the room slowly resumed as they passed to the other side of the room. Sage let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, relieved to have made it through the room alive. Weston’s palm slid around her side, pulling her closer to stop her trembling as they waited for the Transfer.

  When the door slid open, Sage stifled a gasp.

  “Firecracker.” Boulder’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as he stepped out the door. “What in Eprah’s name are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since some things went missing in my office.”

  Sage’s cheeks reddened. “I—”

  “That almost sounds like an accusation, officer. I’m sure you’re not blaming my pair for anything like that.”

  Boulder’s attention snapped to Weston, noticing him for the first time. Recognition passed over his face, and he straightened, flicking his gaze back and forth between the two of them uncertainly. “Of course not, sir. Just making an observation.”

  Weston tilted his head in acknowledgment and nudged her into the Transfer without another word.

  “Good to see you, Boulder,” Sage said, doing her best to hide her nervousness.

  Boulder nodded, watching her with a strange expression until the door separated them.

  “A friend of yours?”

  She bit the inside of her lip, unable to distinguish whether the tumbling in her stomach was due to the Transfer or running into Boulder or the fact that she was about to lose the few freedoms she had left. “I’m not sure anymore,” she said quietly.

  “He called you ‘firecracker,’” Weston observed.

  “Yeah.” She didn’t offer an explanation, and he didn’t ask.

  A sad, wistful smile tugged at her lips. He’d called her that since the night they first met at Perjaash. What she wouldn’t give to go back to that night—to erase the past couple months from existence.

  When they stepped off onto the fifth floor, Weston didn’t hesitate. He steered her straight to the Dignitary’s office, letting them both inside without so much as a cursory knock.

  Sage glanced around. The room was enormous and–other than a desk and a handful of chairs and other furniture—completely empty. The Dignitary wasn’t there.

  “Are we supposed to be in here?” Worry leaked into her tone. She didn’t want to be in any more trouble than she already was.

  Weston’s lips tugged up in an amused smile as he walked around the desk. “I don’t expect it to be an issue.”

  Right. Benefactor privileges.

  “You seem to know your way around.”

  “I’ve been here on several occasions.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a small disc, rolling it between his fingers. Squinting at it, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an identical disc. He held it against the first one for a moment, then placed the original back in the drawer wordlessly.

  She stared at him in disbelief. “What was—”

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” he said, casually slipping the second disc back into his pocket. He closed the drawer and met her eyes. “Discretion, Sage. The Dignitary doesn’t want everyone knowing his business.”

  Her mouth hung open. What did he mean by that? What in Eprah’s name had he just done?

  Weston walked back around to her side and looked up as the door opened. “Ah, Gregory. There you are.”

  A tall, thin man walked through the door, tapping something on a databook as he approached them. A mixture of irritation and surprise flashed over his face as he noticed his visitors, but it was gone in an instant, quickly replaced by a too-wide smile.

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Bennick. No one made me aware of your arrival.”

  “Quite understandable. I didn’t give them much warning since we spoke about our meeting last night.” Weston smiled warmly, but Sage could feel his muscles flex beneath his shirt. He wasn’t as at ease as he appeared.

  “Indeed. The retraining. And this is your pair, I presume?” The Dignitary turned a set of amber eyes on Sage. “Miss Indarra. Tried to run off, did you?” He clucked his tongue. “I don’t believe we ever had the pleasure of meeting while you worked under my purview. I’m Mr. Varick.”

  His voice slid over Sage’s skin, crawling under it and igniting her nerves.

  “Mr. Varick.” She nodded politely but drew closer to her benefactor instinctively. Weston slid his hand around her waist, locking her firmly against his side. For once, she was grateful for his odd sense of protectiveness. Dangerous as he was, he didn’t make her want to scrub her own skin off like the Dignitary did.

  He motioned dismissively to Sage. “You can have a seat while Mr. Bennick and I discuss the particulars of your tether.”

  Sage started to take a step back, but Weston’s grip on her waist tightened, stopping her.

  “There’s not much to discuss. She’ll stand.”

  “Very well,” he said, moving around his desk. “Mr. Bennick, if you wouldn’t mind…” He nodded toward Sage. “I prefer she not see the location. I can provide a blindfold if that is your preference.”

  Sage stiffened.

  “Who do you expect her to tell, Gregory?”

  He flashed a tight smile. “I must insist.”

  “No. I must.” Weston didn’t so much as flinch. “She’s my pair, and she’s about to be tethered to me. She won’t say anything, and I won’t embarrass her simply to placate your ego.”

  “I see.” Mr. Varick’s lips thinned in disapproval, but he didn’t argue any further. Instead, he set down his databook and pulled out a tray hidden beneath his desk, pressing his hand on top of it. A click echoed somewhere in the room. Sage frowned, glancing around. She couldn’t tell where the noise had come from.

  “We all have our secrets.” The Dignitary smiled rather unpleasantly at her confusion. “And mine doesn’t leave this room. Is that underst
ood, Miss Indarra?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He crossed the room, striding purposefully toward the wall. In the next instant, he disappeared.

  Sage yelped, hopping backward in surprise. She probably would’ve fallen if not for Weston’s arm still steadying her.

  “It’s just a convincing illusion, Sage. He hasn’t actually gone anywhere.”

  Her eyes stayed glued to the part of the wall where the Dignitary had just vanished from. Convincing was an understatement. The man had passed through solid matter. She was sure of it.

  A few moments later, Mr. Varick reappeared in almost exactly the same spot he’d just left, but now he was holding a new tablet and a fist-sized platinum cuff.

  “I’ll need to see her bracelet,” Mr. Varick said, ignoring Sage and choosing to speak directly to the benefactor as he set the tablet on top of his desk.

  Weston nudged her forward. She held out her wrist reluctantly.

  “Now this little device here,” he said, placing the cuff over her bracelet, “is half of the equation that makes it impossible for techs like yourself to override these bracelets. And this—” he placed his palm on the tablet screen, then tapped it a few times, “—is the other half. Can’t have everyone in Eprah tethering each other, now can we?”

  “No,” she said hollowly, shoving down the anger in her retort. “We can’t have that.”

  Weston cleared his throat and crossed his arms, putting a fist to his mouth. Sage snapped her mouth shut, worried it was some sort of unspoken warning.

  “Now, Mr. Bennick. Are the standard settings sufficient, or would you like some customization?”

  “Proximity,” Weston answered quickly.

  “Naturally. What radius?”

  “Fifty yards.”

  Sage whipped her head toward him, eyes wide. Fifty yards? He really intended to make sure she never left his sight again.

  Mr. Varick raised an eyebrow as he swept a hand over his screen, but he didn’t argue. “Exceptions?”

  “Within the boundaries of my estate, two hundred yards.”

  “Oh,” Mr. Varick began, “I know you haven’t been paired before, but it’s actually quite common not to limit distances inside an estate at all. More for your benefit, really. Allows for more privacy.”