16. Sawyer
SAWYER
Muffled voices silence as I knock on the door to Aurelius’s library. My ear angles toward the wood, but my head is too busy to listen. Insults scream through my head, so loud the quiet feels wrong.
Two weeks…
Two fucking weeks, and I still haven’t found the mines.
“Who is it?” Aurelius’s voice.
“Sawyer.” I wait a moment for him to reply, but all I get is silence. “I have an update I think you might want.”
Nothing. A second passes, then another before a small commotion sounds in the room, hushed voices, a light thump. I don’t even want to think about what they’re hiding from me.
My hands tuck into my pockets, lips curving into a smile as Aurelius opens the door.
He doesn’t look nearly as friendly, which is at least consistent.
I hardly ever see the man. It’s Raven who takes my daily ‘reports’, her nose wrinkled as she details every tiny thing in a notebook, asking question after question.
My throat is sore by the time we’re finished going over each video, half of what I say complete bullshit—partly for my own amusement, partly because it couldn’t be clearer that they’re learning my methods with the intention of replacing me.
And then, later in the day, I get to do it all over again with Zephyr’s persistent curiosity about what goes on between me and Luna. Always with a friendly tone, never judgmental, but relentless.
I’ve got one more week in me before I snap. Guarantee it.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Aurelius steps aside so I can enter, revealing Zephyr’s quizzical eyes—speak of the devil. My head dips as a greeting. She doesn’t nod back.
Facing Aurelius, I search for signs of sex. A wrinkled shirt, missed belt loop, messy hair. He’s perfectly put together.
“Thorne told me I might find you here.”
Aurelius’s lips lift into a bitter, tight smile. Not even trying to hide his disapproval. “Of course he did.”
“I could come back.”
“What do you want, Sawyer Hansley?”
Sawyer Hansley.
I’ve never known my own name—fake or not—to sound so creepy.
“To chat…” I nod toward Zephyr. “In private, if you don’t mind.”
Aurelius’s eyes roll. Dramatic. “We aren’t sexist here, Mr. Hansley. If you have something to say, say it. My daughter’s ears aren’t nearly as delicate as you believe.”
Daughter?
I try to keep my face neutral, hide my surprise, but can’t help but look at Zephyr.
Something red at her feet catches my eye.
The dark rug beneath her looks wet, the tip of her white shoe smeared with red liquid I can only assume is blood.
But it’s the squashed ball with red strings hanging from it that I focus on.
Is that a fucking eyeball?
Zephyr notices what I’m looking at and rolls it back with her heel until I lose it beneath the shadow of a desk.
What in the fuck?
“Right.” I clear my throat and force my gaze to Aurelius.
“I wanted to let you know, the girl is progressing as planned. Starting today, I’ve decided to allow her free access to the house.
I have a Keeper stationed outside in case she runs, and if she does, all it means is that I have more work to do.
It’s just a test. Eventually, she’ll accept her place here, but in the meantime, I’d like to avoid the misunderstanding we had previously. ”
“Shouldn’t you be watching her instead of some Keeper? She’s your responsibility.”
I hold back a sigh and for a moment, just stare.
“With all due respect, sir, I’ve done this about a hundred and fifty times.” One seventy-six. “I’m happy to listen to feedback, but you don’t need to worry… You can trust me to get the job done.”
He says nothing in return. He looks like he can’t wait for the day he gets to murder me.
“I also wanted to talk to you about the mines.”
“The mines?” His brows kiss as his pristine posture breaks for the first time, arms folding in front of him.
“It occurred to me last night that the girl you’ve chosen, and I’m sure many others, would benefit from seeing them.
What they want more than anything is freedom, so I think we should allow them to choose between two ranks: the Seraphs and the Dregs…
It’s not a lot, but it gives them some semblance of control, and for them, that’s everything. ”
He turns his narrowed eyes to Zephyr. I don’t know if he’s exchanging thoughts with her or if he just can’t stomach being the one to respond. I’m not surprised he isn’t automatically on board, and if I could find the damn mines on my own, I wouldn’t be bullshitting right now.
Aurelius shakes his head. “We don’t need more Dregs. We need more Seraphs.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” I try to keep the condescension from my tone.
“But I can’t imagine many hundred pound women are going to want to lug around chunks of rock all day.
It’s dirty. It’s cold. It’s hard labor. That’s enough to paint the life of a Seraph in a more appealing light, for most women.
The ones who choose otherwise…” I shrug.
“We just make sure they have a rough couple of weeks to start… They’ll change their minds as long as we paint the life of a Seraph in a better light than the life of a Dreg. ”
I could not give less of a fuck, but … it’s not a terrible idea.
Fear works temporarily. But if you can get a person to believe they’re doing what’s best for them? That’s forever.
“And what if they don’t change their minds?” Aurelius counters.
I open my mouth, but Zephyr speaks for me. “Would you choose the life of a Dreg, Father?”
A chill runs over my spine at her voice. Ghostly. It’s odd, coming from Zephyr. The innocence she loves to display disappears in an instant.
Aurelius’s lips pinch, but he does nothing to silence her. No punishment follows. For a man unaccustomed to being challenged, I’m surprised he finds restraint.
Daughter… Wow.
A horn sounds, loud and long, like a tornado siren. We all turn to the window at the same time, though it comes from far away.
Is there a storm coming?
“I think we should pick this up later,” Zephyr suggests to her father before giving me an encouraging smile. He scrubs a hand over his face before leaving without a goodbye.
I watch him go until Zephyr takes my hand. “Come,” she says, leading me from the room. “We’ll walk together.”
Where?
I don’t even ask. I follow while trying to ignore the discomfort I feel from holding her hand. Long, cold fingers sink into my skin, a glossy talon pinching between my knuckles.
“You didn’t mention that Aurelius is your father.”
She faces me with a hum. “I didn’t?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” She looks up like she’s thinking about it. Like that’s information I wouldn’t have remembered.
I should’ve known by the yellow of her dress that she isn’t one of Aurelius’s whores. He would’ve made her a Seraph, not a Cultivator.
It’s obvious now that it’s in front of me, and that only brings me more unease. I should be paying closer attention to these people, trying harder to learn their practices, their way of thinking.
We walk toward the center of the compound, each ranks’ home connected by sidewalks leading to a center point. Wilcox’s initiation ceremony was this way. I wonder if we’re walking toward another.
“Okay, you caught me.” Zephyr finally lets go. I tuck my hands in my pockets to prevent her from trying to hold anything and hone in on her somber expression. She has the tendency to ramble, but for once, I’m all ears.
“If I’m being perfectly honest… I didn’t mention it because I was enjoying you not knowing.” She tucks hair behind her ear while her breaths deepen—nervous. “My father is a powerful man. It’s hard to step out of his shadow.”
My shoulders unwind at the innocence that softens her voice—and even more her intentions. “I see.”
“Do you?” She hovers closer to me as someone walks around us. Her steps have slowed. Wherever we’re going, we’re crawling there.
I nod. “You just want to be seen as your own person. Not as someone’s daughter. I get it. We’re all good.”
“Can you relate?”
Can I relate?
I can feel her staring at me like she’s trying to look inside my head, and just like that, the discomfort returns.
She’s strange, but that can only be expected from someone who’s grown up in a place like this.
It isn’t even her words that hit me as eerie.
It’s her voice. Her even yet full voice, held with an intensity of a microphone in your face.
It’s hard to get used to.
“It’s just that,” she goes on with a light, nervous chuckle. “I feel like I’ve read so much about you, yet I know little. I don’t know where you come from, who raised you. It’s amazing what the authorities haven’t been able to find.”
I agree.
“I’m so curious…”
She lets her words hang there a minute while she waits for me to tell my life story to a stranger. Except in her mind, we aren’t strangers. We’re friends. We’re close, like all the time she’s spent reading about me has counted as conversation.
If I walked into her room and found a collage of photos tacked to her wall, I wouldn’t be shocked.
“I can relate.” I blow out a long string of air like I’m reliving something. My father is a drunk who’s spent his life in limbo between his beer-stained recliner and entry-level work that’s never lasted more than a couple of months. His shadow is so small, the police can’t find it.
I keep waiting for the day he sees my photo and tries to turn me in for a reward, but he’s too busy watching college kids throw a ball around to turn on the news.
Or maybe he’s dead, his remains waiting at a morgue for someone to love him. It’s been twenty years since I’ve seen that man, and I would bet my life that no one will ever claim that box of ash.
“My father was a businessman.” A crowd appears up ahead, looking up at a stage they must’ve put up for this occasion.
“I tried to follow in his footsteps, but…” I shrug.
“I could never make him proud doing what he does. Sometimes the only way to be seen is to realize you have the capability of going it alone.”