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“You’re definitely a liar.” I rest my arms on the table, shooting one out to stop the hypnotic rhythm of the jar. I clutch it in my palm. “Humans don’t work for monsters.”
Grayson raises an eyebrow as he pitches back from me, a menacing sparkle in his eyes. “They do when they need insider information.”
I swallow back the bile rising in my throat. This man, who seemed so caring a moment ago, allows his girlfriend to risk her life for information. My suspicions are true—Levi’s the only sane one in the bunch. “Why isn’t she dead?”
He leans the back of his chair against the wall, resting his boots on the table with a thump. “Mari, Mari. It’s a symbiotic relationship. They need us for occasional feedings during dry season… to provide entertainment… as lovers. In return, they give us information about the two cities and keep us alive. Only the newbies are open for killings. If they can make it past a year, they’re usually left alone.”
“And that’s why I’m in danger.” I had thought Evie was only kidding about the Supes smelling my blood, but there is more truth to it than I had originally thought. “What does Evie do at the watering hole?”
“A bit of everything—sings, plays the piano, serves up drinks. Whatever the owners need that night.” He removes a slip of paper from his pocket and tosses it on the table. “That’s the newest information from last night.”
I stare at the piece of paper, waiting for him to tell me what’s on it.
“Go on,” he goads, pointing at the parchment. “Open it.”
Wrinkles crease the paper from its time in Grayson’s pocket. I unfold it, taking in the flowery script before reading it aloud. “Arazian is on the move.” I toss it to the center of the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shoves the note back into his pocket. “Most of the time, Arazian keeps to himself, choosing to hole up in his throne room. He sends his mutants to do his dirty work while he sits back and reaps the benefits.” The chair creaks as he moves his feet to the floor and stands. “He doesn’t leave his city unless there’s a damn good reason.”
“And do your sources hint at this reason?” I shrug on a cloak Evie loaned me from a hook on the wall. The inside is lined with three daggers to use as a last line of defense. Grayson and I must cross through the luminescent forest to get to my work assignment.
He lifts a battered gray cloak from another hook and puts it on before inserting a key into a locked cabinet. “No, they’re tight-lipped on the matter or have no clue, but that’s highly unlikely.” The cabinet is full of weapons—swords, knives, machetes, maces, bows and arrows. He removes one after the other, placing them strategically within the lining of his garment. A knife clatters to the floor. “Damn holes.”
“I can help,” I say, walking over to inspect the damage to the material. Moths and months, or even years, of placing sharp objects within have damaged the integrity of the fabric. “It will only take me five minutes if you have a needle and thread.”
“No time for that.” Grayson peers out the window at the setting sun. “And besides, we don’t waste our credits on things like needles and thread.”
“But you waste it on more weapons.” In Avren, clothes make the person. That was part of the reason I’d trained to become a tailor. When someone looks good, they feel better about themselves. Here, in the wilderness, clothes have a more practical use. “The mighty Kindred Few will look pretty silly loaded down in weapons and rags.”
He shoves one last dagger in his boot and tugs on the sleeves of his cloak as if he’s suddenly self-conscious about his attire. Like he said, he’d understand better than the others. “Tell you what. You earn credits, and I’ll let you buy material to make me a new cloak.”
“And the others?” I already have designs running through my head, but where will I find the time? A lot of my day will already be full of training and work duty for Avren.
“You’ll have to talk to them.” He opens the front door of the cottage, blade in hand. The forest is quiet with the oncoming twilight as animals settle in for the night. “They’ll probably want you to fix what they already have.”
While my father worked for the Council, my mother was a mathematician, spending her days among like-minded individuals. They used their calculations for the betterment of the city by advising architects, engineers, and scientists. I inherited creativity from the Barellis side of the family. In his free time, my father painted exquisite landscapes of what he dreamed the wilderness looked like. It wasn’t against the law to use his imagination in such a way, only to act upon it. When he left to see the wilderness he’d dreamed of, the Council exiled him from Avren.
The hike along the trail is different this time, partly because every small noise makes me want to run back to the cottage and partly because I have a weapon in my pocket. It provides me a small sense of security. I glance at Grayson walking beside me. Although he is slightly smaller in stature than Bastian, his presence and weapons settle my nerves. He took down a werewolf, so that must give him some badass credits.
He walks with conviction, and I struggle to keep up. But I don’t complain. The forest sets every nerve on edge. “Besides your training with Bastian, Evie and I will work with you to reverse your brainwashing.”
“I can think for myself.” I stop. His statement offends me more than anything said so far in the wilderness. “You think you’re so high and mighty because you’ve lived here for seven years. It takes time to adjust. We both lived for many years in Avren—our friends are there. You can’t say it’s all bad.”
Grayson hangs his head, sunlight casting shadows on his face.
“How can you forget what it was like having everything you need, the comfort of a temperature-controlled apartment, and the peace permeating our lives?” I don’t understand how he sees the wilderness, with its dangers and discomforts, as preferable.
He raises his eyes to mine. A fire burns behind them. It’s a phenomenon I’ve never seen in another human. The only way I can describe it is passion. “The founders built the city on the backs of others, Mari. Your luxuries, your comfort, and your peace directly result from thousands of other people working for nothing and without a choice. We were no better than Arazian’s zombies. The Council orchestrated our careers, our marriages, our sex lives with our spouse, our free time. To me, freedom means more than any kind of comfort or peace the city brings.”
He walks ahead of me, and I remain quiet, chewing on his words. Within no time, the spires of the city come into view, rising from the darkening landscape like a pillar of golden hope. Seeing it again ignites a flame in the pit of my stomach, but I squash it as quickly as it rises.
I’m here to work.
As an Undesirable.
“After enough training, you’ll make this trek yourself. For now, one of us will escort you. The others won’t take you directly to the door since they’re not tagged, but they can get you close enough so you’re safe.” With a quick glance around, he removes his cloak. I hand him mine, and he hides them both beneath a bush. He leads me along a trail that runs down a hillside to the opening of a massive cave. Dozens of Avren’s guards keep watch at the entrance.
“Brought us a new one tonight, Grayson?” A shorter guard elbows the one beside him, who flashes his buddy a devious smile. “And a pretty one.”
