Silent Embrace Book 2
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Hayley Cyrus
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30
Carrieâs Turn
SEASON 2
Produced by: Bethany Sharp
Written by: Cecilia Gigliotti & Rita Halle
Sound by: Meaghan Bardwell
"
BLYTHE
âUp! Down!â
Oh God.
âUp! Down!â
Rep six. Only rep six.
âUp! Down!â
Spots had already begun to flash before Blytheâs eyes.
âUp!â
DizzyâŠ
âDownâŠâ
âŠdizzierâŠ
âBlythe.â
Thud. Thud.
The dumbbells thundered to the floor.
Thud.
âHey, Blythe. Look at me. Eyes up here. Hey.â
Blythe lifted her head. She didnât remember falling flat on her back, but here she was.
âCarrie?â
A hand hovered above her face. The haze was lifting from her vision bit by bit.
âIâm right here, Blythe. Keep looking at my hand.â
In. Out. In. Out.
Blytheâs breaths came suddenly but steadily. She kept breathing until the spots faded and Carrieâs hand was crystal clear.
âCan you hear me?â
âYeah.â The word seemed to fall out of her like a gasp, like she couldnât entirely control it. âYeah.â
âCan you touch my hand?â
Blythe reached up and put her palm in Carrieâs. One of them was clammyâshe couldnât tell which.
âNow can you sit up?â
Blythe tried to lift her upper body from her shoulders. The ceiling rocked backward, and she slumped back down with a moan.
âOkay, okay. Easy.â
Thank goodness the gym was otherwise empty. âIâm sorry, Carrie.â
âDonât apologize. Youâre probably just overextended.â
Blythe had never known a voice to soothe and comfort like Carrieâs could. Carrie might have had only eight years on her, but she had become all but a maternal figure.
A person Blythe would trust with her life.
Which, apparently, was what she was doing now.
âI mean, I did just come off of a four-mile run. Did you see me on that treadmill?â
âYes, yes, I was watching. Youâve been showing tremendous improvement, you know.â
Blythe turned her head so she could meet Carrieâs eyes. âReally?â
âIâm impressed with the resistance training especially. You used to not be able to push without throwing your whole body into it. Which surprised me, given all those oven doors.â
âI told you, Iâm a bakerâs daughter.â Now she was strong enough to prop herself up on her elbows. âI didnât do all the heavy lifting. But you should see me knead dough now. I really show it whoâs boss.â
Carrie let out one of her infectious laughs and helped sit Blythe upright.
âGuess Iâm not doing too hot with the dumbbells, though, huh?â Blythe smiled wanly.
Carrie winked. âThereâs always time.â
âAnyway, I doubt Iâll ever match you.â
Carrie patted her stomachâshe wasnât showing yet, but it was only a matter of time. âGiven the extended break Iâll be taking, Iâd bet any money youâll pass me before you know it.â
Her eyes were sparkling. Something told Blythe the exercise regimen was a small sacrifice if it meant having a child.
âAnd, honestly,â Carrie chuckled, sitting cross-legged beside Blythe, âonce this kid is born, Iâll get more than my share of exercise chasing him.â
âChasing him?â Blythe asked. âDonât they⊠I mean havenât the producers alwaysâŠyou know?â
âNot if I have anything to say about it.â
Blythe watched Carrie absentmindedly touch the dagger at her hip. The one Walker had given her.
Sometimes she forgot Carrie was still humanâshe and her mate were practically inseparable. The whole pack agreed it was a rare attachment between a human and a shifter.
Blythe wondered, more than she wanted to admit, if she and Killian had that.
Or had any hope of having that.
âIâm guessing you want to be turned?â
âWell, Walkerâs got his doubts.â
âReally? Iâd think heâd be chomping at the bit.â
Carrie raised her eyes without raising her head. âYou know how turning works, right?â
âYeah. You basically become immortal.â
âIf you donât die in the process.â Carrieâs eyes fell again. âAnd thatâs what happens to one out of every four women.â
âDonât talk in statistics. Itâs depressing.â
âThis applies to you, Blythe. Thatâs twenty-five percent of women. Thatâs, like, worse than any single human disease.â
âWow.â Blythe let that sit for a moment. It didnât do anything for her own ambivalence. âBut it wonât happen to you. Right?â
âBlythe.â Carrieâs voice trembled.
Blythe scooted toward Carrie and took her hands. âI just know it wonât. We canât lose you, Carrie. Walker canât. I canât.â
âWhich is why he and I have to do a lot of talking.â She tucked a strand of hair behind Blytheâs ear. âIf you want my advice, you and your guy might do the same.â
DEREK
The perimeter was finally secure. Well, probably.
A line of perfectly spaced guards stretched out on either side of Derek. They got antsy every so often, but they had their orders.
Dusk was descending. Derek scanned the horizon. Clear, as always.
No one would find Lazarus. No one knew about this place. No one even thought to check.
In any event, he was starting to breathe a little easier.
For six months the producers had been on about border securityâand if anything went wrong, it would be Derekâs head.
Not that theyâd said as much, necessarily. But he had recruited all the new guards and given them their stations.
And he was the only one in this place who knew what the hell was going on.
As far as one could know what the hell was going on, anyway.
Derek had also been the one to smuggle Blythe and Killian back into the compound after everything went south.
Any or all of them could have been killed for that.
He had always been on good terms with Killian. He had known very little about Blythe before the incident, and vice versa.
Now they were close, in the way that people are close who are bound by an illicit secret. They were captives, blackmailed by their own escapade.
If crime were a parent, theyâd be its three children.
Neither Derek nor Blythe nor Killian had spoken of that night since.
Well, maybe Blythe and Killian spoke about it to each other. Derek wouldnât have been privy to that.
Derek consulted his watch. Just a few more minutes and heâd be off duty.
The rotation of the night watch had happened under an hour ago, and it had gone smoothly. He always stuck around to oversee itâthis odd little changing of the guard.
Except no one else would ever come to gawk at it. Because no one knew about Lazarus.
Of course, the pack had a long history of sharing spaces. But six months ago the producers had closed them in.
Built a barbed wire fence around their building. Confiscated all means of communication. Converted their home into a prison.
And the number of guards had tripled.
Derek had practically smelled the producersâ panic. They wanted the world of the show to be as far removed from the real world as possible.
Sometimes it did feel like a protracted daydream.
Well, nightmare.
Species were separated by floor. Bears, canines, felines, and birds, in ascending order, along with their mates.
Unmated human womenâthe former Breedersâwere interspersed throughout, to keep them from getting too chummy.
And they had to get special permission to move between floors.
Derek was one of the fortunate few who could grant permission.
Fortunate. He snorted.
The timer on his watch went off.
He signaled to the closest guard on his leftâhe liked to rotate the second-in-command position so that no one got too cockyâand headed around the side of the building.
He needed to decompress.
It was a long walk to his car and then a long drive home. That was how it had to be.
His younger sister, Rowanâhalf-sister, reallyâhad pestered him into telling her about what he was up to. What this new âside hustleâ was.
All told, it wasnât a side hustle. It was his main hustle. He did have a side hustle, but that was on the side of this, not the other way around.
That was the price of secrecy. Lazarus was so insular that any information getting out to anyone could jeopardize the entire operation.
And the producers were hell-bent on keeping this show running, even after the loss of an Alpha and the collapse of the original structure.
âThe show must go on,â as they said.
If you asked Derek, this show was fucking twisted. But the viewers liked it. And the viewers ruled.
After he told Rowan, he knew that she judged him. Not that she had any right to judge, given how she was making a living these days.
He found his car and started the engine.
The fact that he was still allowed to drive was remarkable.
He figured it was only a matter of time until the producers took that away, too.
With every meeting, the newly-formed Council handed down another tyrannical rule from the producers. Derek found the term âCouncilâ laughable.
It wasnât as though the shifters had any power for themselves.
They were the producersâ puppets.
It was an elite group, featuring just one representative from every floor.
And then Milo. Oh, Milo. The leader to end all leaders. Derek had been floored when the producers selected Milo as the new Alpha.
He knew how those guys loved a good plot twist, but this had been the biggest shocker of the season.
If things had been going south before, they might as well be in Antarctica by now.
He switched on the radio. Time to stop thinking for a while.
BLYTHE
âI told you, it wasnât that bad.â
âBlythe. You fainted.â
âDid not! I just fell.â
Blythe was seated on the edge of the bed, and Killian was kneeling behind her, massaging her shoulders.
âCarrie was spot on. You need to stop going so hard at it.â
âDonât tell me what to do.â
âWhat, so Carrie can tell you, but your mate canât?â
âCarrieâs my trainer.â Blythe craned her neck to look him in the eye. âAnd it will only get easier if you turn me. Iâll get stronger.â
Killian took his hands off her shoulders and crossed his arms. Theyâd been through this a couple of times now.
It was dangerous, and Killian had told Blythe that he didnât want to take the risk.
He couldnât lose his mate. Not againâŠ
âWalker hasnât turned Carrie either, you know, and sheâs been here for years.â
âYes, I know,â she snapped. âBut he will after she has the baby.â
âWell thenâŠmaybe we should try to have a baby first. Give us a chance to really think about itâŠâ He drifted off for a moment.
âYou know that women canât conceive after theyâre turned.â
âI know!â Blythe threw up her hands. âYou donât have to keep reminding me.â
Killian had brought up having children before, and Blythe was beginning to sound like a broken record.
âFirst off, Iâm still only nineteen. Iâm not ready to have a baby. And even if I were, it wonât happen in this prison. What if they still take the newborns?â
It was true that in the months since the residents of Lazarus had tried to revolt, there hadnât been a birth, and no one knew if the practice of taking their newborn sons away would continue.
But theyâd been given no indication to the contrary.
Killian had always been adamant that no one was taking his son, but with all that had changed, all the additional guards, the fact that they were now stuck in this prison and couldnât leave the compoundâŠ
How could he stop them?
âLook, itâs tough. For all of us,â he said, growing frustrated. âBut Iâm not in the mood to hash this out tonight. Can we just chill? Read a book or play cards or something?â
His hands were on her shoulders again.
âAnyway, you need to rest. Here. Lie down. Iâll get some extra pillows.â
âIâm fine.â She stood up. âIn fact, Iâm going to go for a walk. Iâll be back in less than half an hour. Promise.â
âBlytheâŠâ
She was already out the door. She never remembered the combinationâthe producers changed everyoneâs locks periodicallyâbut Killian would let her back in.
Slowly, she made her way back down to the gym. After seeing that Blythe was returned to her and Killianâs room, Carrie herself had stayed behind.
There were cameras all over, gym included, connected to the electrical wires. It gave Blythe a chill to think some perv guard was watching Carrie alone there.
No trust. That was Blytheâs motto these days.
When she reached the gym, she saw Carrie was indeed still inside. Up on a step ladder, fiddling withâone of the camerasâ
What is she doing?
Blythe had hardly put her hand on the door when she saw a blinding flash of light and Carrie toppled to the floor.
âCarrie!â Blythe couldnât keep herself from yelping as she stumbled to her friendâs side. With clammy hands she took Carrieâs wrist.
No pulse.
