CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
“Well, I’m bringing you to your dear Mate, of course.
While he has taken you on as his charity case or whatever it is the Illum is scheming, he can’t be seen in your area of town.
Our baby brother is the biggest ass-kissing Illum lover there is, desperate to be promoted, so he couldn’t step away from work.
And Richard is following in the footsteps of our father, who would have you eliminated rather than have anything to do with you. Wasn’t that what he said last night?”
I didn’t deign to answer that. “And our birth mother?” I asked. “Let me guess, too delicate to handle seeing how Minors live.”
“She isn’t delicate. You don’t know what she’s been through,” Gregory said quietly.
“Right, because life is so hard as an Elite woman,” I countered.
“You’re na?ve and ignorant, so I will let that slide. For today.”
I crossed my arms. “How can I not be ignorant when no one will tell me anything?” When Gregory didn’t respond, I asked, “So why not send someone like me?”
“Like you?” Gregory asked. “Do you still think you’re like the other Minors?”
“I’ve been called a dying breed thanks to my visual defect,” I said. “But other than that, there’s nothing special about me.”
That’s not true, a small voice whispered, one that sounded like Alice. She had made me feel special, as if together we could form our own way in the world.
“You are unlike any of us now, even the Elite. It is why Father is so livid. Well, that and the fact that you still breathe,” Gregory said nonchalantly as he stretched his hand toward the roof.
Was his mind still befuddled? “You’re an Illum’s Mate.
Not just any Illum. The others stay locked away, ruling and judging from afar.
” My heart picked up its pace as Gregory carried on.
“You are the Mate of the Illum they send into the Elite to carry out their judgments and punishments. He is their Enforcer. There is no one like you, little sister, because there is no one like your Mate.”
“I don’t understand,” I admitted.
“I wouldn’t plan on that changing.”
I paused. “So . . . I’m not going to be eliminated? For my outburst yesterday?”
Gregory looked at me as though I had just sprouted another head.
“No, Emeline. Quite the opposite. You are the property of the Illum, and someone has to pay for the mistreatment of you.” The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, unease settling into my bones.
The property of the Illum. A vessel and property.
“As the family fuckup”—Gregory spread his arms wide—“I get to do the embarrassing groundwork.” His eyes found mine, taking in my heterochromia. “Oh, sister, the horror.”
I held his gaze. “The horrors do not hide beneath,” I said, quoting his taunt from last night.
“Welcome to the family disappointment club,” Gregory said, glancing back out the roof. Rain had started to fall again.
“There’s a club?” I snorted.
“There is now. It had always only been me.” I recognized the loneliness that laced his words.
“How have you been a disappointment? You’re Elite,” I scoffed.
“A story for another day, sister,” Gregory told me. “Let’s go see what your kind Mate has to say.”
The Pod stopped at one of the seven identical megastructures, but there was no antechamber like the other buildings had.
Instead, the Pod hovered at a balcony that jutted high above the clouds, defying gravity and sanity.
The clouds were so thick, the ground lay hidden.
As the doors opened, frigid air swept into the Pod, instantly chilling me to the bone.
Gregory rolled his neck as he stood and stepped onto the balcony and disappeared inside. I clung to my bag and clutch in one hand as I stood petrified. Uttering a prayer to any ancient forgotten gods who might still be out there—who might still care—I took a deep breath and followed.
The walk across the balcony was terrifying.
It made the walk across the bridge in the Sphere seem like a pleasant stroll.
The wind whipped viciously, the air so cold I felt like I would freeze before I reached the doors.
I tried my hardest not to look at the unending sky.
My sore legs wobbled, protesting with each step as I walked through the doors and into the unknown.
The room was warm and welcoming. I didn’t know what I expected, maybe something formal or cold.
Instead, I walked directly into someone’s living room.
The room was cozy, the walls primarily windows.
The tiled floors led to a sunken seating area that faced the one interior wall, containing floor-to-ceiling shelves.
There were books on them. I had never seen books outside of the Archive.
I resisted the urge to open each one and smell the pages.
In the middle of the bookshelves was a heating hearth, and above was a piece of art—a piece I knew I had reassigned at some point.
I took a couple of steps closer, the books and art holding my fear at bay, dropping the bag as I made my way, entranced, to the art.
There was art in an Illum’s living quarters. Art with people in it.
It was a striking juxtaposition that stole my breath.
Two figures stood in the painting. One, a fair-haired woman dressed in all white, looked outward as she walked away from the other figure in the painting.
A man dressed in black stood by a tree, his eyes cast down, clutching his heart.
A separation to them—a brokenness as the woman pulled away. Why was she leaving?
“Hi, Emeline” came a lovely voice, breaking the art’s spell. A woman sat on the couch hidden among an array of pillows.
Her midnight black hair fell over her shoulder in a loose braid, and her fern green dress resembled mine. She was breathtakingly beautiful in a way I knew ancient humans would have tried to capture, yet would never have done justice to.
She patted the seat next to her, closing a book. “Come join me. They might be a while.” She glanced behind me. I turned to find Gregory leaning against one of the windows, his hands trapped behind his back as he looked down at the woman, his face unreadable.
“Nora.” Gregory nodded in her direction but didn’t move.
“Gregory,” she said, her voice like honey.
I slowly approached the woman as she stood. She was so petite and slender, her steps dancelike and graceful. She extended her delicate hand, and I took it. Heavy lashes framed her sapphire eyes, eyes I knew. “I’m Nora. It’s nice to finally meet my brother’s Mate.”
“Collin is your brother?” I asked, flustered. It seemed obvious, as she said it: She was the spitting image of him.
“He hasn’t mentioned me?” Nora placed a hand over her heart, her blue eyes alight. “How inconsiderate of him. I shall make him rue that choice.” She winked at me, smiling wide. “Would you like some tea? Collin had your morning scan sent over. I believe your morning meal will be ready shortly.”
“Tea would be nice, thank you,” I responded. I wondered how much power Collin had to have my morning scan already sent over this quickly. There is no one like your Mate.
I took a seat on the large sofa among tan pillows. A tea service sat on one of two identical rectangular taupe marble tables. Nora passed a cup to me before sitting beside me with her own.
The art captured my attention once again.
“It’s called Separation,” Nora said.
“I was unaware the Elite had art and books,” I admitted, taking a sip of tea.
“The Elite don’t really. The Illum do.” She patted her worn book. It looked old, the pages yellowing, the leatherbound cover tattered.
“What are you reading?” I asked, unable to help myself.
Nora smiled. “Just a story about a man who desperately loved a woman.”
A disgruntled sound filled the space. Nora’s gaze sharpened, finding Gregory. “Why are you lurking, Gregory?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m following orders, Nora. I’m to stay,” Gregory drawled from the window. “I’d like nothing more than to leave. Find my bed and a tonic for the pounding.”
“Still drinking and partying then?” Nora sneered, cutting Gregory a vicious look. For all her ethereal beauty, she had a quiet ferociousness to her. I immediately liked her.
Gregory cast Nora a taunting grin, spreading his arms wide in a mocking bow. “Forever guilty.”
“Deplorable,” Nora shot back, sipping her tea. “Nothing’s changed.”
There was a gleam in Gregory’s eyes as he sized up his adversary. He opened his mouth to retort, but quickly closed it, the picture of apathetic indifference, as Collin strode into the room, Phillip at his side. They ignored Gregory.
Phillip walked down the steps, clutching a stack of papers. Collin stopped on the cusp of the stairs, staring down at me, his glacial gaze intense and unyielding. They held my defective eyes.
Exposed, I steeled my resolve and awaited the consequences of my actions.