It was late when Killian finally got back to the room.
But it was worth it. The message was out. Annie was on the case.
Well, he hadn’t had a response from her, but now that she was fully in league with the Liberation Front, he knew she would hop right to it.
“Hey,” Blythe said when he stepped in. There was a little tremor in her voice.
She sat on her heels on the bed, still in her pajamas, which at this point in the day she was clearly not going to change out of. She looked a little nervous.
Like she had news.
And Killian had a guess.
“Hey.” He kicked off one shoe, then the other.
“You might want to sit down.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and looked into her eyes. They crackled with suppressed excitement.
“Rowan stopped by this morning.”
Okay, so this was going where he thought it was.
“And?” he asked.
“And it’s real.” Her smile was starting to spill over.
Blythe held out a small plastic strip that showed two perfectly solid, pink lines. “Two lines means pregnant. We’re really going to be parents.”
He felt himself let out a sigh as they fell against each other, grinning, throwing their arms around each other.
It had probably been a given, but what a relief it was to hear for sure.
“And Rowan’s going to help us out?”
“Of course.” Blythe rolled her eyes affectionately. “She’s going to be here for us every step of the way. She says she’s seen enough pregnant women now that she should be able to perform exams with her eyes closed.”
Killian froze. “Please tell me she isn’t going to test that out.”
Blythe laughed. “Just another Rowan-ism. You know she’s joking.”
“Blythe, you don’t even know how—amazing this is—”
“You think I don’t know?” She winked.
Not having a shot at parenthood had been Killian’s only regret about turning Blythe.
As far as they had known, having a family was off the table entirely.
Killian hugged her even tighter, if that were somehow possible. “You’re going to make the best mother in the world.”
“As long as you’re there by my side,” she whispered, glancing up at him with emotion in her large eyes. “I work best as a team.”
They kissed. And kissed and kissed.
They were so absorbed in each other’s presence, in holding each other, it almost felt to Killian like they could have been anywhere in the world.
They could have been back in the arena, on his lake overlook.
Every time he held Blythe could have been the first time.
And then, it seemed, as soon as the uninterrupted peace and bliss and togetherness arrived, it was snatched from him.
He had that far-off look that indicated that he was receiving a mind-link.
“Killian?” Blythe pulled away slightly, although her right hand stayed on the back of his neck. “What is it?”
“I have to go.”
She glanced from him down to the bed and back. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry. Walker needs to go over some Council business.”
“I—just thought we might—”
“I know, I know.” He began to stand up. “We’ll do this tomorrow, I promise. We’ll have our celebration.”
She crossed her legs. “What’s going on with the Council?”
His shoulders fell. He studied his hands.
“They’re sending in more guards.”
She exhaled a long breath.
“Are you serious?”
“I know, it puts a strain on an already—”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“How many?”
“About a hundred.”
Pause.
There were barely more than two hundred residents in the entire compound.
Having that many guards was clearly a message from the producers. An intimidation tactic.
And it would work. The people of Lazarus had no choice but to go along with whatever they were thrown by production.
They had been given back the right to raise their own children. But it came at the cost of individual freedoms.
Blythe shook her head.
“It’s all a sham. We’re props. Whenever we try to keep what little privacy we have left, we’re invaded by…by…”
Killian looked up and reached for her hand. She gave it to him and tucked her hair behind her ear with the other.
“I know, I know, it’s not your fault,” she murmured. “But I need you with me, now more than ever. I need my mate to be experiencing this in real time.”
“And I want to be.” He paused, at a bit of a loss for anything non-idealistic to say. As usual, their situation was complicated.
They’d survived up to this point, but just barely. There wasn’t much of a case to be made for idealism.
Meanwhile, one person kept tugging at his mind…
“If only,” he began as Blythe said, “I wish—”
“Seth were here,” they finished together.
Blythe got up, too, and embraced him.
“It’s hard,” she said into his shoulder.
“Yeah,” he mumbled back. He’d never not known where his brother was for any extended period of time. And the guy had been the backbone of Lazarus.
And now he’d just…disappeared. After the women’s video message had gone out. Just before the note from the Liberation Front had arrived.
“I just feel,” said Blythe over his shoulder, a warm arm around his neck, “like the number of questions we have keeps multiplying every day, and the number of answers keeps dividing.”
He patted her back.
“We’re going to figure it out, Blythe. We’ve made it this far. We can’t not figure it all out. We’re not capable of falling short at this point.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. And,” he said as his hand brushed her stomach, “it’ll be what’s best for all three of us.”
They moved out at 0300 hours.
Major Clarice Hoxton hadn’t slept much. She didn’t need to. She thrived on preparedness, being ready for anything at any time.
Maybe there had been a time when her rhythms were more normal, when her internal clock was more civilian.
That seemed a long time ago indeed.
Derek had called her up right behind him as they filed out in formation.
Which was not too elaborate a formation; they didn’t want to attract the attention of anyone who might be awake at this hour.
Not that anyone was up and about.
The producers enforced a strict curfew now, Derek had told her, after the willy-nilly wandering people were doing just before the message was transmitted.
That was all he’d said. The message.
But Clarice knew all about the message.
Major Hoxton knew something.
Derek could already tell she was sharper than your average guard, but she had arrived armed with some prior wisdom.
He intended to learn it as soon as possible.
With Hoxton at his heels, he marched the new troop of reinforcements—two hundred strong—into the compound.
He stationed forty around the perimeter and led the majority inside with a flick of his badge.
The living quarters were a big building, he’d told them. Seven floors. Shifters to manage on all of them. Some easygoing, some not so much.
He sent fifteen apiece to each of the six residential floors, then ordered the remaining seventy to fan out across the first floor.
Well, sixty-nine of the remaining seventy.
He pulled Hoxton aside before she could vanish with the rest of them.
She didn’t look the least bit worried, panicked, or surprised. All she said was, “What do you need?”
“I need you to keep the rest of these guys in line. They know what they’re doing, obviously, but you…more so.”
They looked at each other a bit curiously, a bit suspiciously.
“Look,” said Derek, “you’re my unofficial second-in-command as of right now. Report any and all strange behavior to me, and call if you need backup.”
She nodded. “Understood.”
He dropped his voice. “I’ve got some skin in this game, Hoxton. I need to know I can trust you. Some very important lives are hanging in the balance here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And with that in mind, you’ll be stationed outside the conference room.”
These were the instructions Derek gave Clarice and the rest of the new guards:
One. Eyes straight ahead at all times—when nothing else is going on.
Two. Do not speak to anyone unless it is a superior officer—and even then, only when spoken to.
Three. Pay attention to anything and everything that looks out of the ordinary. If something looks like it shouldn’t be there, it probably shouldn’t.
Four. Think twice before using your weapon. Make sure you know whom you’re using it on. And then, if you have to use it, do not hesitate.
And five. For the love of God, keep your mouth shut.
Yes, this Derek character put on a tough front.
But he was in on the plot too. Clarice’s sources had told her that.
The producers still trusted him, but he would be willing to stick his neck out for a good enough cause.
Plus, there was that sister of his. A real wild card. His weak spot, if that was what you would call it.
She was smart.
But, more than that, she had a leg up. She knew things.
More than Derek or anyone else could ever discover that she knew.
He escorted her to the conference room. She took a resting stance, feet shoulder-width apart, hands behind her back, and fixed her eyes straight ahead.
Clarice felt invigorated. More so, perhaps, than she’d ever felt before. This post—her mission—was the most important thing she’d ever done.
She waited, unmoving, in that position until the steps of his steel-toed boots faded. Then she adjusted the high collar of her black jacket.
This would be no different from any other combat zone she’d observed.
Maybe a little colder, maybe a little less predictable, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She’d seen enough to have a supply of responses and reactions on hand.
Hoxton was accustomed to sticking her neck out. And when it came to the freedom of a group of helpless women, she was all in.
This section of the corridor was lonely. Not many guards to speak of, and those she did spot in the distance on either side of her looked dead on their feet this hour.
Slowly, cautiously, Hoxton peered over her shoulder.
A darkened conference room abutted by a wall of windows.
Everyone watching, no one really knowing.
She’d expected to have to investigate the entire building.
Now she had the ideal place to start.
