by Dylan Steel
“That’s not an answer.” She stopped, her brows furrowing. “Wait—what do you mean now that you know I’m alright?”
For a moment, concern flashed in place of his normally guarded expression. He locked it away quickly.
“Your injury may have been a little worse than I let on,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure I could get you here in time—or that they’d have the right supplies.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks paled.
“That doesn’t matter anymore though. It all worked out, and you should regain most of your strength eventually.” He reached out, brushing a hair back from her face tenderly. She stiffened, and he frowned, dropping his hand back to his side. His jaw tightened. “I never would’ve taken you there if I’d known—”
She shook her head. “Of course you didn’t know. You couldn’t have known there’d be a Lawless attack unless you were…” She licked her lips, stopping that train of thought before its implications made him angry. He’d made his opinion of the Lawless quite clear. It was more than a little generous to say that he wanted nothing to do with them. “There’s no way you could’ve known.”
Anger flashed across his face. “This was no Lawless attack.”
“What do you mean?”
His lips twitched. “It’s not something you need to worry about right now either.”
“So tell me,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “what do I need to worry about?”
“I don’t know if we’ll be leaving in minutes or hours,” he said, ignoring her question again. “For now, I need you to rest.”
“There’s no way I’m going to—”
“This isn’t the time to argue.”
“It never is.” She returned his frustrated look with a glare of her own. “Weston, you’re saying someone tried to kill you, and you don’t think it’s the Lawless. Who… Who do you think tried to kill you?”
He shook his head, leaning closer. “Not here.” His whisper brushed against her ear.
Her eyes widened. “I thought you said we were safe here,” she said in a low, strained voice.
“I said I trust my friends. But we’re not safe yet.”
She pressed her lips together tightly in understanding.
“Weston.” A woman’s voice called his name from the other room.
“Coming,” he answered, never once taking his eyes off of Sage. “Rest,” he ordered one last time as he slipped out the door, closing it behind him.
She rolled her eyes as soon as he was out of sight. Not happening.
Clenching her jaw, she scooted to the edge of the bed, gritting her teeth as she eased her heel over the covers. She bit back a string of curses when her foot hit the floor. Pain throbbed up and down her leg with each small step. She leaned hard against the wall, fighting the overwhelming urge to pass out as she inched toward the door.
Voices drifted through the door, but this time she could tell one was Weston’s. Cracking the door open no more than an inch, Sage poked her head forward, stealing a peek into the next room. She held her breath, trying to make as little noise as possible. Weston’s back was to her, but if she looked just over his shoulder, she could see half of a woman’s face, framed by dark curls.
“… checked. Gaztok’s face is already being projected on every comm across the city. He says it’s too early to list casualties, so you know what that means.”
Weston grunted in response.
“Officers on the ground have doubled, and rumors say he’s got his own squad out looking for as many Lawless as they can find.”
Weston sighed heavily. “None of which is a surprise.”
“No?” The woman quirked an eyebrow. “Is it a surprise that there’s talk of making a show of it again?”
“He’s a power-hungry fool.” Weston’s voice was tight. “It didn’t work before, and it won’t work now. He doesn’t even realize his actions are too harsh. He’s driving more people straight into rebellion.”
“Or he doesn’t care.”
“Or maybe he does.” Weston’s shoulders tensed. “It’s hard to say what goes through his mind.”
The woman shook her head. “Fool or not, a lot of people will die because of him. Many of them innocent.”
“One more reason we can’t stay. I won’t have you caught up in all this.”
She let out a short, barking laugh. “A bit late for that, don’t you think?”
“You know I wouldn’t have involved you if I’d had any other choice.”
She snorted. “It would be easier if you left the girl.”
Sage’s stomach clenched in a tight knot. If Weston left her, she’d die. And nobody could help her—the tether would do the job.
“You know I can’t do that.”
The pressure on her lungs eased at those words.
“She’s no concern of mine. Just dead weight,” the woman snapped.
“Which I’ve already told you I’m willing to carry.”
“If your father were here, he’d never—”
A flare of pain shot through Sage’s calf unexpectedly, making her gasp. She clenched her fists in frustration as the woman’s eyes flicked to where she was standing. The woman stopped talking, her lips flattening to a thin line. That was all it took for Weston to turn and notice her.
“Rox, Sage.”
In an instant, he’d crossed the room and flung open the door. He grabbed her arm, giving her a little shove backward. She let out a startled cry as she started to fall, but Weston caught her quickly and scooped her up in his arms. She sucked in a sharp breath as he marched her back inside the room.
“I told you not to go out there.”
“No.” She hissed through her teeth as he set her down on the bed a little roughly, jarring her leg. “You told me to rest. Walking across the room isn’t exactly a sparring session.”
He eyed her angrily. “You knew what I meant. And you knew I didn’t want you to meet anyone.”
“Guess I misunderstood.” She shrugged, looking away deliberately.
“I swear, Sage…” He ran his hand through his hair as he paced in front of the bed. Anger bled into his tone as he stormed toward her. “It’s not just your life you’re risking.”
“All I did was walk ten feet,” she mumbled irritably.
“And showed me yet again that I can’t trust you,” he shot back, shedding his cool demeanor as he grabbed her arm. “I’ve warned you not to lie to me.”
“Well, maybe if you told me what was going on—”
A knock on the door drew both their attention. It was the same woman Sage had just seen talking to Weston.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he snapped.
“She’s already seen what I look like.” She waved her hand dismissively. “And I just received word. They’re ready.”
Weston’s hand tightened around Sage’s arm as he gave a curt nod. “We’ll leave right away.”
“As you should, but Weston—”
“Yes?”
She hesitated. “He thought it best you go the long way. Less likely you’d be found while inside the city. But the path is clear. For now. No guarantees about how long it’ll stay that way.”
“I understand.”
The woman’s eyes looked back and forth between the two of them appraisingly. She pursed her lips. “There’ll be a horse waiting for you.”
“Thank you.” Genuine gratitude oozed from his tone.
“Just one?” Sage immediately regretted asking as two sets of disapproving eyes snapped to hers.
“You can’t ride alone like that. One is plenty,” Weston admonished her, then slid his gaze back to the woman, addressing her again. “I know it must have been difficult to come by. I won’t forget this.”
“See that you don’t,” the woman said stiffly. She shot one last glance at Sage and then popped a hand on her hip impatiently. “Need any help?”
“Only covering our tracks here.” Weston turned back to Sage. “I want you to avoid putting any weight on that leg fo
r awhile, but right now, I need you to get up.”
She frowned, and when she didn’t comply quickly enough, he yanked on her arm, pulling her to her feet. Crying out in pain, she fell against him, grabbing his arms for support. He peeled her hands off him, moving her behind him. The woman snickered.
Weston grunted as he leaned against the bed, shoving it back a few feet. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to be more gentle, but your lack of cooperation is putting others at greater risk than is necessary.”
A crease formed between Sage’s brows as he knelt down in front of the bed. “What are you…”
He threw back the rug and swept his hands over the large stone tiles. His fingers snagged the edge of a tile, and he lifted it a little, sliding it over the one beside it. Sage’s eyes widened.
“I told you there are tunnels all over the city.” Amusement trickled into his tone as he noticed her reaction. “But I didn’t tell you they’re not all mapped.”
A low rumble sounded nearby, and the ground started to shake. Muffled shouts came from somewhere outside the apartment.
The woman and Weston exchanged a look, and his face flattened into a somber expression. Blue eyes flicked to Sage with unspoken urgency. “Follow me down.”
She peered over the gap into the darkness below. “There’s no ladder.”
“You have to jump.”
She raised an eyebrow and let out an incredulous puff of air.
“I’ll catch you.”
Without another word, he crouched low and jumped, disappearing beneath the floor.
“Better hurry,” the woman said, throwing a glance over her shoulder into the other room.
Biting her lip, Sage shuffled forward, favoring her leg. Moving with far less grace than her benefactor, she winced as she lowered herself to the ground.
Her hands were on either side of the hole when the rumble grew louder outside, followed by fists pounding on the main door. She froze.
“Open your door and submit to a search!”
The woman nudged Sage’s backside with her toe. Hard. “Are you trying to get us all killed?” she hissed. “Go’n.”
Sucking in a breath, Sage pushed herself forward, dropping into the hole.
The fall wasn’t that far, but even with Weston trying to be careful as he caught her, the impact rattled her leg enough to make her wish she’d passed out. He set her down. Her fists clenched, her body still arching against the pain. Scraping and groaning above her told her that he was hiding evidence of the tunnel exit on their side, but she saw nothing. She kept her eyes tightly squeezed shut, trying to block out the fire pulsing in her bones.
Muffled footsteps thumped over their head. Weston watched the ceiling warily, not moving. When the thuds receded, his shoulders relaxed. He finally turned his attention back to Sage.
“It’s important that you don’t make any noise. None.” He spoke in a low voice as he helped her up.
“I won’t,” she whispered back.
He nodded and then hoisted her back on his shoulders as he’d done before.
Sage felt a sudden, sharp pinch in her arm. Eyes wide, she stared at her arm in disbelief, then shot the same look at Weston. He pulled a needle back. She thought he looked a little apologetic, but she could’ve been imagining it. After all, she was dangling awkwardly around his neck without a great view of his face—and that view was starting to blur.
“I know,” he said softly.
18. HIDE
“How’s the leg?”
Sage looked up as Weston walked into her room. Her neck tensed.
“About as expected.” She set her databook on the couch beside her outstretched leg, keeping a wary eye on him. The last time she’d seen him, he’d slung her over his shoulder in a tunnel and knocked her out. She couldn’t remember anything else until an hour ago when she’d woken up back in her bed at his estate. She didn’t even know how much time had passed. “I don’t think we’ll be sparring again anytime soon,” she said evenly.
He shot her a pained smile as he took a seat next to her. “Not for awhile.” He ran his fingers lightly over her bandage. Her hands clenched reflexively. “But you have time to recover here where you’re safe.”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“Where I’m safe,” she repeated deliberately, narrowing her eyes.
A muscle jerked under his stubble, and he nodded.
“So are we just going to pretend nothing happened?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.” She crossed her arms. “Because I’m not ok with you drugging me.”
His eye twitched. “It was too much of a risk to let you stay awake.”
“I told you I wouldn’t make any noise,” she growled.
“And I actually think that you meant that,” he said calmly. “But with your injury, you might not have been able to help yourself.”
Her nostrils flared. “Better to just shut me up, then.”
“I promised I’d protect you. I never promised you’d like how I went about it.” His hand grew heavier where it rested on her leg. “And you weren’t the only one in danger. It was safer you didn’t know where we were. Still is.”
She stared at him in silence, seething.
“It’s not like I enjoyed it, Sage.”
“But you did it anyways. Because you don’t trust me.”
“I want to trust you, but I’d be a fool to.” Standing up, he started pacing in front of her, rubbing his hand along his jaw. “There were too many things outside of either of our control. It was regrettable but necessary. I won’t apologize for what I did.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That sounds an awful lot like what your mom said about kidnapping me.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Think whatever you like. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead, and that’s not something you can twist around.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been at the hospitality suite in the first place.”
“If it wasn’t for me, you’d have died in an alley all alone and forgotten,” he returned icily.
Sage’s cheeks burned crimson. Her eyes stung as they filled with tears, but she blinked them back, refusing to look away. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Weston’s harsh expression melted into one of genuine remorse. “I am sorry. You were taken from one danger and dumped straight into another. Only this one is far more complicated, and it’s not one you asked for. I know that.”
“I don’t want your pity,” she snapped.
His fists clenched, the only outward sign that anything she’d said had bothered him. “Noted.”
“I would like some answers though.” She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. “What makes you think it wasn’t the Lawless?”
He paused before answering, as if debating whether or not to tell her his suspicions. “The tower that exploded…”
“Yeah?” she prompted.
“It was mine. My suite takes up—took up—the top three floors.” He sighed. “We were the only ones that were supposed to stay there that night.”
“That could just be a coincidence,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice steady even as the blood drained from her face. That would be quite the coincidence.
“If the Lawless wanted to attack benefactors, they would have taken out the entire hospitality suite, not just one tower—and they would have picked a busier day.” Weston shook his head. “If we’d been in the suite, we’d be dead.”
“Why weren’t we?” Her voice cracked a little, betraying her emotion.
He offered her a sad smile. “You could see farther along the horizon from the tower we were on. I wanted the best view.”
She stared at the floor listlessly. “So we should be dead.”
“No,” he said in a low growl, “we shouldn’t. I won’t imply by any measure that what was done was right. If someone wants me dead, they’ll have to look me in the eye and do it, not hide behind anyone else and shirk the
blame.”
“But…” she hesitated, forcing herself to look up at him, “who would want to kill you?”
He cocked his head. “Present company excluded?”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t—”
“It’s just a joke, Sage. A poor attempt, obviously,” he said, holding up a hand. “I hope,” he added as an afterthought.
She stared back at him, unwilling to say another word for fear of it being misinterpreted.
“I have my suspicions,” he finally conceded. “And I think you’re smart enough to share them.”
“Mr. Gaztok?”
“Or Edward Grayson.” He nodded. “They’ve both taken a bit too much interest in my affairs recently—and deliberately kept me in the dark about their movements in Eprah and the Venerable Nicholas’s condition.”
“But you said they needed you. Your estate controls too many resources to get rid of you.” Sage crossed her arms to hide her trembling hands. “Why would they try to kill you?
“You’re right. If they killed me, the other benefactors would panic—possibly even organize together to restructure Eprah’s government so that they weren’t next. But if the Lawless killed me…” Weston trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.
“… there’d be nothing new to worry about,” Sage finished somberly.
“Exactly.” His expression clouded. “If it was the Lawless, no one would say a word if the Quorum came in and claimed my estate and reassigned it to someone else. It’s a flawless power grab.”
“Except you’re not dead. It didn’t work.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“But they still don’t know, do they?” Her brows creased. “Have they tried to contact you—to see if you’re alive?”
Weston nodded. “They have. They’re very eager to know if they succeeded.” His lips puckered as if he’d just eaten something sour. “I’ve asked Martha to tell them she doesn’t know anything.” Low laughter rumbled beneath his next words. “Benefactors are a temperamental bunch. Unpredictable. I could still be parading around the city. Or I could’ve returned in the middle of the night and not alerted her to my presence. For all she knows, I’m spending some quality time in my room, not to be disturbed.”
Her lips parted in confusion. “Do you want them to think you’re dead? Isn’t that dangerous?”
