Chapter 31
chapter
thirty-one
Haven
Knox tries to engage me in conversation, but I just sulk in the passenger seat.
I can’t believe Ender is blackmailing me to be his wife. Me. Any sane, rational man would rejoice at the thought of marrying my perfect twin. Mercy is kind, understanding, and smart, whereas I’m the complete opposite: rude, loud-mouthed, caustic.
Mercy couldn’t believe it when I told her that Ender knew. And that he was not going to arrest and kill us.
“Ender is the worst person I’ve ever met.” I seethe.
“I can name a couple of people worse than him,” Knox says with an insufferable smile.
“Who, you?” I retort.
“Ouch.” He chuckles, rubbing his chest. “That hurt.”
“You deserve it for always defending him.”
“You can’t blame Ender,” he says. “You’ve both been colluding against him.”
I’m not surprised that Ender told Knox the truth; those two are always whispering in the corner like lovers. What Ender knows, Knox knows, and vice versa.
“It had nothing to do with him,” I say. “It was always about Mercy and me and what we want with our lives. Besides, he got the better end of the stick. Mercy will make an excellent wife.”
“She’s lovely,” Knox agrees, admiration coating his words.
I glance at him suspiciously and sit upright.
“Wait, do you like my sister?”
“No,” he says quickly. “I hardly know her.”
“She wouldn’t go for a soldier,” I say. “She hates violence.”
“I’m not violent.” Knox pouts. “I’m gentle like a puppy.”
I glance at the sniper that lazily rests in the back; he has tied the safety belt across it so it doesn’t jostle. He treats the damn thing like a needy child, always petting and whispering to it.
“Mabel doesn’t count,” he says.
“You named a weapon?” I raise a brow.
“No, the man who sold her to me did,” Knox says. “But it fits. She feels like a Mabel.”
“I’m too tired for this conversation.” I lean my head against the window. “And frankly, I don’t know what any of those words you strung together mean.”
Knox’s wild laugh fills the space, and I shake my head, a smile pulling on my lips as we make our way to the Forge.
A loud knock jolts me awake the next morning. I unlock the door, rubbing my eyes when Rei sweeps into the room like a whirlwind. A sleek, silver tablet in hand.
“Your sister is famous!” she screeches. “Did you read The Continental and The White Sun?”
“I don’t read or listen to the news outlets,” I say.
All news was filtered to the Director’s Office before it went live. They approved all public messaging before release.
I go to my bed, a little annoyed that she disrupted my sleep for this.
Rei sits beside me, thrusting the glowing screen in my face so I can read the article.
There is a large picture of Ender and me.
I’m facing the camera, smiling uncomfortably at the crowd, and Ender is looking down at me, his ghostly blue eyes soft and warm.
brEAKING: New Foundry’s Hottest Bachelor is Off the Markets
The Continent has a new it-couple, and they’re already making hearts flutter! The ever-elusive Commandant Ender Vale opened the doors of his North Mire estate last night for a private engagement party, and only a handful of lucky reporters were invited to witness the magic.
When pressed about his romance, the young Commandant practically melted, gushing that Ms. Warrick “inspires him.” Sources say his eyes glittered like stars as he stared at her, and we’ve got to admit, it’s been years since we’ve seen a man so utterly smitten.
The wedding of the century is on the horizon, and trust us, you won’t want to miss a single detail. Stay tuned because New Foundry just got a lot more interesting.
I put down the tablet, resisting the urge to laugh maniacally at the tawdry article. It reads like a tabloid. I expected better from The White Sun.
“Your sister is the luckiest woman alive,” she says.
My cheeks flush. Those damn reporters and their romantic ideals.
That could not be further from the truth.
A man as ruthless as Ender does not love.
His blood-stained fingers were not made to caress.
They were created to break those under him.
To command and lead, and to never waver in the face of uncertainty.
I met his father last night. The Supreme Director was everything I had imagined.
Curt, cold, and heartless. He looked down at me because I was a Common.
It was clear to see that Malric Vale had signed the agreement to keep the peace with Orson.
I was never his first choice. And his displeasure was clear.
“Does your sister tell you anything about him?” Rei asks, resting her chin on her palm. Her eyes are floaty and dreamy.
She spends hours every day cursing Ender and the Black Star soldiers for putting us through hell.
But one terribly written article, and suddenly Ender is a charming, young man who deserves to be loved.
It sickens me that the Supreme Director’s plan worked.
Ender’s reputation will flourish. The people will trust him.
The Continent will bow to the whims of another tyrant. Another wretched Vale.
“Like what?” I ask curiously.
“What is he like in bed?”
I choke on air. Rei sits upright and pats my back. A little harder than is necessary.
“She did, didn’t she!” Rei exclaims, with a smirk. “Go on, then tell me.”
“They haven’t done anything of that nature,” I rush. “You can’t believe everything you read. Now leave, so I can get ready.”
Rei groans. “How can she resist him? Does she plan to wait until the wedding day?”
“None of your business!”
I shove Rei out the door, ignoring her loud cackle. Not only is she enjoying prying, but she is getting a kick out of embarrassing me.
Once the doors seal shut, I lay my back against the surface and cover my face with my palms, muffling a scream.
I can’t outrun Ender.
He haunts me.
Even in the quiet peace of my room, he is here, digging his cruel fingers into my life and threatening to drag me into the dark with him.
I’ve been put on a few rotations doing menial tasks around the Forge this week. Commandant’s orders. I found my name on a roster alongside a bunch of other troublemakers. I suppose this is my punishment for swapping places with my sister and attempting to outsmart Ender.
Today I’ve been assigned to the lower decks, rifling through a bunch of destroyed weapons so they can be stripped down for parts.
Enforcers walk the runway above, gazing down at us with bored expressions.
There are five other recruits that I don’t recognize, some of them wear the Gifted uniform and others the Common one.
All of them look painstakingly bored. I try to make conversation with the girl closest to me, but she just flips me off.
“Rude,” I mutter.
I keep my head down at my station and begin going through the trash, sorting things as valuable or waste.
Damn you, Ender. I hope you get carpet burn and your pillow is always cold. And the next time you have sex, your dick refuses to cooperate.
“That scrap could be re-used,” a weathered voice says.
“Are you the Scrap Master?” I ask snidely. “Did you get an advanced degree in scrap collection at the University of Recycling?”
He laughs, a rough, brittle sound.
“Prue didn’t mention that you were funny.”
I stiffen and slowly turn to look at him.
He’s older than me by about twenty years.
He has on a grease-stained uniform and most likely works here full-time in this dump.
That makes me feel slightly bad about my comment.
He’s not an annoying enforcer, but Prue’s guy who took this job to spy for the Resistance. This is his sacrifice to the cause.
“You’re him,” I say.
Two enforcers linger at the exit door, but no one is looking at us. They don’t seem to care, yet their presence still unnerves me.
I can’t risk getting caught. Not when Ender has questions about the last mission. He already finds me shady for swapping places with my sister. I don’t need to put myself on his radar any more than I already have.
“I put in a request for more recruits to help,” he says. “I guessed they would send you here with your colorful personality.”
“Are you calling me a bitch?” I ask. “Did Idris talk shit about me?”
He chuckles.
“Relax, it was a compliment.”
I narrow my eyes. “Doesn’t feel like one.”
He smiles like he finds me thoroughly amusing.
“My name is Patch,” he says.
“Haven, but I go by Mercy here.”
“You’re on the inside, right?” he asks. “Block A?”
His gaze lowers to the black badge clipped to my coat, which I use to enter the building and to access my quarters.
“You can get us classified intel,” he says. “The real stuff. Mission schedules, shipment routes, covert assignments.”
I let out a sharp exhale.
“That’s not just ‘anything’. That’s everything. I’m already on thin ice. Ender is onto me,” I say. “Some of my fellow recruits mentioned that I was behaving strangely on our last mission. I helped Serenity get away, and it’s come back to bite me in the ass.”
Silence stretches between us, broken only by the smoky hiss of the heat vents and the distant clang of metals.
“You don’t have to fight if you’re afraid,” Patch says, gently. His eyes warm and fatherly. “You’re just a kid.”
My hackles bristle at the word ‘kid’. I lost my youth and innocence the day they took my mother away from me.
“What exactly do you want?” I ask curtly.
“There’s a specialized strike unit leaving the Forge in three days. We believe they intend to carry out a large-scale attack,” he says. “We need to know the location.”
We weren’t briefed in advance on our last mission. It is clear to see that Ender doesn’t plan to share a lick of intel with the recruits. I’m certain the rest of Black Star knows what is coming.
I nod slowly.
“How do I tell you what I find?” I ask. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be down here.”
Patch passes me an outdated comms link. The earpiece is black and small.
“It will transmit to our radios,” he says. “When you have something, tap the earpiece and speak. You got three days. No pressure.”
Footsteps echo nearby. An enforcer is moving closer.
I close my hand over the device and slip it into my sleeve in one smooth motion.
“Three days,” I confirm.
Then, louder, for the benefit of the enforcer, Patch says. “Try not to blow the relay and misclassify objects.”
“I’ll try,” I reply.
Patch walks away without looking back.
I stand there long after he’s gone. My heart pounds, and the weight of the device presses into my skin like a brand.
I wonder what my mother would think of me. Fighting for the same cause, she once did. I hope she will be proud of me. I remember how Prue looked at me that day. Like she saw in me the same fearlessness and bravery that my mother wore like armor.
This won’t be like the other times. I won’t be helping a rebel escape capture by using my powers to buy them time.
This is my first job with the Resistance.
And I hope I don’t fail.