Chapter 22
22
The sound of a slamming door startles me into consciousness. I squint against a wave of dizziness and try to move my arms, but I can’t. It seems I’m tied to a chair.
This gets my attention.
Adrenaline courses through me, and I blink until the room comes into focus. A tall boy looms nearby.
Oh. That guy. The memory of our dance washes over me.
That scumbag drugged me! I wiggle, trying to break free so I can give him a piece of my mind. But the spidersilk rope doesn’t budge.
How have I gone from having a boring, average life to being abducted and restrained twice in a matter of months? Sheesh.
“Let me go,” I try to yell, but it comes out as more of a croak since my mouth is so dry. How long have I been out?
“Well, hello there, little light spinner.” The tall boy no longer wears his mask, and his predatory gaze is no longer appealing. Fear raises the hair on my arms. My head is pounding, and the ropes binding me to the chair bite into my wrists as I continue to struggle.
We’re in a dank, low-lit room. Bram is standing a few feet away with the gorgeous Valkyrie who was with Rafe on the Atlas.
“Soon the halls should be clear enough to get her out of here unseen,” the girl says to the others.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, a quaver in my voice, but they all ignore me. I begin to thrash hard enough that the chair thuds against the tiles.
“I guess you’d like to go back to sleep.” The tall boy strides over, but he’s halted by the squeak of a door behind me.
“What’s going on here?” The voice is deep with an overt sense of authority, and everyone in the room goes completely still.
I know that voice. I turn as much as my restraints allow.
Rafe.
I’m unsure if I should feel relief or fear. He’s a familiar presence, but there is certainly no love lost between us, and I don’t trust him.
His gaze meets mine, but his eyes are apathetic, giving nothing away.
“Hi, Rafe.” The tall boy speaks casually, though his shoulders are tense, and his gaze has locked with Bram’s in silent communication.
“Why do you have my lab partner restrained to a chair?” Rafe asks coolly.
The tall boy twirls a lock of my hair around his pointer finger. “Just having some fun with a weed,” he responds. “I didn’t know you knew her, cousin.” My heart sinks upon hearing they’re related. The boy unwinds the hair from his finger, then places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes in a way that makes acid rise in my mouth. He leers and asks, “Do you mind sharing?”
“Get off me!” I struggle against his touch. How did I ever let this slimeball touch me?
The adrenaline boost from moments before is starting to wear off, and I feel woozy.
“You’re a fool, Leo,” Rafe says in a bland, bored voice. “Do you know what she is? You shouldn’t be standing so close.”
“This philistine excuse for a Sire?” Leo scoffs. “She’s harmless.”
“She could kill you with one touch.” Rafe raises his hand, palm out. “The right amount of Ha’i zapped to your heart”—he snaps his fingers—“pop.” His lips lift into a cruel grin. “And perhaps you would deserve it for acting so rashly. Now, let her go.”
Okay good, this is going in the right direction.
“We need her,” Leo responds, resisting Rafe’s command.
“And what could you possibly need her for?” Rafe asks, menacingly stalking toward Leo.
“There’s a bounty… on Sires,” Leo explains, meeting Rafe’s gaze without backing down.
“What?” Rafe growls, and the fierceness of his tone freezes my blood.
“The reward is astronomical,” Leo says, seemingly unshaken by Rafe’s obvious anger, though Bram and the girl cower as if they might disappear if they’re quiet enough.
Rafe speaks sharply, each word slicing through the tense air. “You know who must be collecting. How could you even consider helping them?” His blue eyes have darkened to a terrifying shade of midnight. “What are they offering you? You have no need for their filthy provincial money.”
Rafe reaches over and splays his hand in shiin over the left side of Leo’s chest. The threat is clear. Pop .
Leo’s eyes show the first flicker of fear, but he stands his ground, and realization dawns on Rafe’s face. “Antimatter,” he breathes, and Leo nods affirmatively. Rafe lowers his lethal hand. “So they’re offering antimatter as a reward for the abduction of Sires?”
“Rafe, you know I would normally never consider it, but this one’s just a weed. It’s worth what they can give us.”
“ This one is my lab partner.”
“She can’t possibly matter to you.” Leo scoffs. “Imagine what we could do if we acquire antimatter—”
Rafe cuts him off. “You should be censured by the Guard for abetting Inquisitor scum.” He practically spits each word. “You too.” He glares over at the other two, and the girl begins to cry.
“Cousin, why are you defending a weed? She’s not even that pretty. What’s Genesis done to you?” Who knew there existed an even ruder elitist ass than Rafe Vanguard?
“I’m defending a Sire over helping our greatest enemy.” Rafe grabs Leo’s hand and points to the bone ring, the stone of the Avant Guard. “An enemy you have sworn on your life to guard our world against. What has greed done to you?”
Leo is taller than Rafe, yet Rafe talks down to him as if he towers over him.
Rafe drops Leo’s hand with contempt. “Tell me everything you know.”
“We don’t know anything. I just received this anonymous pigeon.” Leo pulls an unfolded pigeon from his pocket and hands it to Rafe. “And when I heard about the Sire weed, I thought it might be worth pursuing.”
Rafe reads the note, pockets it, and strides over to me. He uses his spoon to cut the ropes binding me to the chair.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I stand. But once I’m on my feet, all the blood rushes to my head, and I stagger with dizziness. Rafe brusquely pushes my hair aside, checking my neck. He also inspects both of my wrists, ignoring the red chafing from the ropes. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I can’t seem to find the strength to protest the contact. He’s quick and clinical, but every graze of his fingers elicits the strange tingle I’ve come to associate with his touch. He doesn’t acknowledge it.
“Don’t worry. She’s fine,” Leo says, resigned.
“She’d better be,” Rafe responds. Then he goes still, so motionless that he seems inhuman. The black fury has returned to his eyes. He’s looking at a faded light pink line on the inside of my forearm. Was it there before? It looks like a scratch that’s almost healed. Rafe traces the line with his own finger.
Tingle.
I’m scared by the rage in his eyes, and of the fact that, besides for his finger on my arm, he is so unsettlingly still. “You lie to me, Leonardo de Montaigne,” he finally says, icy words that chill the room. Everyone is clearly afraid now.
“Oh, c’mon, cousin, don’t be like that—”
Rafe turns furiously on Leo. “Fie upon you! There’s already one traitor in your family, and you risk doing something like this?” Rafe points at me. “She may have been born a philistine, but she is a Maker . And she is a Sire. A Sire ! You have crossed a line that should never be crossed.” My skin prickles with cold, and my knees are weakening.
I don’t understand what’s going on, and I’m so dizzy that it’s becoming difficult to follow the conversation. I try to grasp at all the pieces slithering away from me.
They took me to trade for antimatter, and they did something else to me too. Rafe thinks it’s Inquisitors they’re working with, but that’s not possible because the Inquisitors don’t exist anymore. And someone in Leo’s family is a traitor? What did Rafe say his name was?
“Give it all to me. Now,” Rafe commands. I close my eyes to make the room stop spinning. Noticing my sudden weakness, Rafe grabs my arm to support me. “Gravdammit, how much did you take?” As I blink my eyes open, Leo is handing something to Rafe. I would wonder what it is if I could only focus, but my brain feels like it’s wrapped too tightly in cellophane.
Rafe surveys the room and then says, “I will keep your dalliance with the Inquisitors a secret, as it could lead to your exile, and you are family. But Alex will be hearing that you bled a Sire.” There’s a chorus of sharp inhales at the mention of Prince Alexander. The air tastes like fear.
The Valkyrie girl starts to cry again. “Rafe, honey,” she whines. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t really part of this. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Enough, Yvette.” She instantly silences. “All of you, get out of my sight.”
The air moves with the rush of bodies swiftly abandoning the room. Leo stops at the exit and turns to stare me down with a curious kind of malice.
Then he leaves, the door slamming behind him, and weariness overtakes me. My eyes flutter shut and my head lolls against Rafe’s arm. His biceps are so big. He’s so warm. I feel funny. Through the veil of my fuzzy thoughts, I see Rafe send off a pigeon.
Soon Kaylie arrives. At some point I must have sat back down in the chair, though I still find myself leaning against Rafe’s arm, clutching his wrist. Kaylie and Rafe converse in quick, urgent voices, but I’m in and out of lucidity and catch only bits and pieces.
“It wasn’t Inquisitors; it was journeys from Avant, from Guard families,” Rafe is saying.
I guess he plans to keep the promise he made to Leo about not mentioning who they were working for.
He continues. “They bled her. I have it all here. Her Sire healing may mean she doesn’t need an infusion, but I thought you should examine her to confirm. The drugs are clearly not out of her system.”
“We should tell Bloche immediately,” Kaylie says.
“No. Let me tell Prince Alexander. It’s a bad time to create tension with the Guard. This is not something the prince will take lightly, I assure you.”
Michael comes crashing through the door. His face is flushed, and his eyes are overly bright.
“Oh, thank the Conductor,” he exclaims when he sees me, but his eyebrows draw together when he notices my appearance. “Are you okay?” he asks, making his way to my side. “Is she okay?”
I’m okay now, I want to say. I smile up at him. He’s so handsome when he’s panicked. His hair is so sloppy.
“Where have you been?” Kaylie whispers urgently. “I’ve been trying to track you down for an age.”
“What happened to her?” There’s a ringing in my ears, and his voice sounds far away. “There’s talk of a captured Sire and a potential provincial breach. I came looking for her as soon as I heard. She’s not trained—”
“She’s fine,” Kaylie says soothingly. “Some boys spiked her drink. I’ve examined her, and she’s okay, but she needs to rest. We need to get her back to the institute.” Kaylie’s voice is soft, and her hand strokes Michael’s arm.
I watch how he’s calmed by her words and her touch. He squeezes her hand affectionately.
This doesn’t bother me.
I don’t care.
Please, stop touching him.
“I’ll take her to the Atlas now,” Michael says. “There’s a train leaving soon.”
But Rafe interrupts him. “I’ll take her,” he says. “If there’s a provincial threat, I’m sure you’re needed here.”
Michael nods hesitantly, a note of distrust in his gaze.
Wait, he’s going to let Rafe take me back? No. I want Michael to do it.
“Be careful with her,” Michael says to Rafe.
A short nod is Rafe’s response. He gently pulls me up from the chair. My legs are noodles, and my knees buckle. Before I stumble, Rafe reaches down, smoothly catches me behind my knees, and swoops me up into his arms as if I were as light as my pet cat, Elliot. I miss Elliot. She’s fuzzy. She’s been dead since I was twelve.
Rafe holds me like a child. My legs dangle over his arms, and my head lolls against his solid chest. I try to protest, but his body heat is warming away my chills, and I feel less dizzy this way. Also, he smells good.
As he walks down the hall, he mutters, “You have no sense of self-preservation. You should not be so trusting.” When I don’t respond, he asks me dispassionately, “Are you okay?”
“Your eyes are pretty” is my woozy response. The comforting rumble of his chuckle lulls me to sleep.