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“You two have so manyopinions,don’t you? How fucking noble,” she spat the word at us. “You just had to be such pains in the ass. Why couldn’t you just die a nice and simple death on Bloodstone Island? Perhaps you’d like to discuss all this with the people in charge ofThe Reject Project? A live special? I’m sure the public would love to see the great Wyatt and Kira talk about their ideals.” Callista gave a bitter laugh. “It would be nice to watch the world chuckle as you two tried to tell them about all these naive worldviews you have. You realize that morality is thrown out the door when there’s a war going on, right?”
Kira’s face was red with anger, her jaw clenched, ready to spout off at Callista. Before she could make a sound, a voice behind us spoke out, causing the two of us to flinch.
“Mr. Rivers? Ms. Durst? I’m here to collect you and your associates.”
The man was dressed as a chauffeur—black suit, white gloves, and polished patent leather shoes. At the bottom of the stairs, a large stretch limo sat, its doors open. The remaining Tranquility operatives allied to the Second Pack were leading our friends toward the car.
“Hey!” I shouted, recognizing the man immediately. “Let our friends out of there. We don’t need a ride. Go back to where you came from.”
The chauffeur bowed his head slightly. “I’m sorry, but going with me is the best option. A warm bed, a fresh meal, and safety is preferable to the prison cell you’ll end up in if I leave you here.”
“Excuse me,” Callista snapped. “I’m dealing with these two.”
The chauffeur barely gave Callista a cursory glance. “Hmm, yes. I’m sure you are.” Turning back to me, he said, “Come now, Wyatt. You’ve been away for too long. Let’s head down the stairs, shall we?’
I growled, but Kira took a step toward him, realization dawning in her eyes. “Did your father send this car?” she asked me.
“Yes,” I hissed. Calming myself enough to face her, I decided to leave it up to her. “Your choice. We go with them if you want, but I’m fine sleeping in a prison cell. Or in the gutter, for that matter.”
“That’s not fair, Wyatt. You can’t leave it up to me. Either you want to see your father or not. This isn’t about me right now.”
“That’s easy,” I said. “I don’t want to see him. Like I said, I’d rather sleep in the street with newspapers for blankets than see him.”
“Hey!” August called from the rolled down window of the limo. “It’s actually kinda nice here. I’d rather go with this guy than them.” He pointed down the street.
A large group of Tranquility operatives were hurrying toward us. The patches on their uniforms were not for the Second Pack. They may even have been sent by the show, or Callista could have called them. We had about thirty seconds before they would be close enough to take us into custody.
“Shit,” I grunted and took Kira’s hand. “Fine. We go.”
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Callista said. She reached forward and grabbed Kira’s arm, tugging at her.
Kira spun without hesitation and slammed her fist into the psychic’s nose. The cartilage snapped, blood squirting from both nostrils down her lips and chin. She tumbled backward with a miserable groan of agony, thumping onto her ass and cradling her ruined face.
Kira laughed. “For a psychic, you sure didn’t see that one coming.”
The chauffeur led us down the steps and opened the back door for us to climb in. Down the street, the operatives were screaming for us to stop. The driver slammed our door, then hopped into his seat and sped away from our pursuers.
It should have been a victorious moment, but all I felt was dread as we cruised through the deserted streets of Fangmore City. I was going to see my father for the first time in over a decade, and I had no clue what I would say to him.
Chapter 23
Kira
“Wow,” August said. “They’ve got a freaking minifridge with sodas in here.” He lifted an armrest to reveal the lighted refrigerator built into the limo. “Anybody want one? There’s bottled water, too.”
“I’ll take a water,” Chelsey said. Like the rest of us, she was soaked with sweat and covered in grime.
He tossed one to her and looked at Wyatt. “You want anything, bro?”
Wyatt shook his head, doing his best to appear aloof and unworried. Our new connection let me peek into his emotions, and he wasfarfrom okay. Stress, anxiety, and even a small bit of panic were eating at him. My own nerves were making me jittery, so I could only imagine what he was going through. He was doing a good job of hiding it, though. Looking at his face, you’d think he was wholly unconcerned by the fact that he was about to see his father after years of estrangement.
Through the heavily tinted windows, our group watched the city roll by. It was striking how untouched it was from the fighting beyond the walls. There must have been some type of curfew or something because the streets were suspiciously quiet. Nightclubs, bars, and other venues appeared to be closed as well.Basically anything that would be open late into the evening had been shuttered.
“I don’t like this,” Eli said, gazing out the window. “This whole city feels weird. Not like it usually does.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said, keeping his eyes out the window. “Because the rich and powerful have decided to keep things as safe as possible for themselves. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of people were”—he smiled bitterly—“removed from the city. Middle and lower-class citizens or something. Can’t let the commoners use up all the stored resources the rich need. Shit, they probably kept enough to man the restaurants, spas, and theaters. Maybe a few for sanitation and other services. Either that, or the rich fuckers were told to keep their asses inside unless told otherwise.”
We turned down a side street that led to a less urban part of the city. The new neighborhood, lined with trees and shrubs, had more green spaces and parks. Along with that, there were also houses.Verylarge houses. I’d thought my parents’ home was quite large, but these were full-on mansions with large, manicured lawns. Some even had fountains or small ponds out front.
