No matter how high I roll the volume, his tenor voice breaks through the melody flowing into my ears. This is the slowest elevator I’ve ever been in, I swear.
“Rue, you can’t just come here and disregard the way things are done. That has consequences.”
Disregard?! “I didn’t ask to come here, remember? And since I’ve been here I haven’t done anything but play by these people’s dumb-ass rules.” Moms would be on my ass if she heard me talking to an adult like this.
“But you’re here now,” he says. “Look at your wrists. Rue, you’re Bound. That means you have to play by the rules or…” He sighs. “Just please let me help you.” His words are like tiny needles pricking every part of my body. “This pains me too, very deeply.”
This pains him? Really? I pull the lone earbud out of my ear. “You? You’re hurt? I don’t see you in cuffs. I don’t see you forced to live away from everything and everyone you’ve ever known. I don’t see your little sister crying herself to sleep at night because the only person in the world that understands her pain after Moms died disappeared with no explanation. No. That’s me and Tasha.”
Shit, I just told him her name.
A chime says we’ve reached floor 429. I step toward the elevator doors. Come the hell on. Open.
He sighs. “So that’s who it is, your half sister?”
“My sister.”
“I—I should’ve… too late for that. They will find out, Rue. They won’t stop until they hunt her down and—” He chews his lip deep in thought. The doors slide open and I can’t get out of the glass box fast enough. Hunt her down? I—they can’t touch her. It’s not right. They wouldn’t. She’s no harm to anyone.
Overhead, the ceiling towers with a glittery night sky. I don’t know how they do it, but the effect soothes. Across the fake starlit room is a single glass door. I start toward it, Aasim on my heels.
The handle chills my palm as I pull open the door.
“Wait.” Aasim’s eyes soften, but even deeper lines course his face. “I can try to explain to the Chancellor that you don’t have a single blemish on your record and that you’ll take ownership for what you’ve done and apologize for breaking the rules. But…”
The sound of “but” makes me queasy. I try to speak, but the only words that come to mind sound desperate, weak. I won’t be weak in front of him.
“I-I promise I’ll do anything in my power to help, Rue.”
“I don’t need your help. And I never will.”
He cups my shoulder. “In the meantime, just—just try to adhere to the rules.”
“When people we love are in danger and we have the means to stop it—we do something. Even if it’s against the rules… Aasim.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Where’s the girl?”
“Probably at her grandmother’s.” I let go of the door handle.
“Has her memory been wiped?”
That’s a thing? I must have skipped that day. “N-no. I-I… there was no time for any of that. My magic got weird and…” That guy with the tattoo disappearing from the car…
“The first time you touch them they see everything. Your strongest memories—usually the most recent ones—become theirs. Like a stock of photos tucked away without sound or meaning. But even a human seeing could be enough to out that Ghizon exists. That’s not a risk the Chancellor will be inclined to take.”
What risk is Tasha? “She’s a kid! And doesn’t everyone around here say he’s so generous and kind? He—”
“Rue, I know him. I’ve known him my entire life. He basically raised me, remember? He’s calculating. Clever. And careful. Very careful. This is not a risk he’s going to take.”
“H-h-how much does he know?” I ask.
“For now, he doesn’t know who you touched, but I assure you, he will find out.”
I stumble for words. “He won’t hurt her. I’ll kill him.”
“Well—”
The glass door thrusts open and a guard with a familiar face—a friendly familiar face—peeks through. I muffle a gasp and the knot between my shoulders eases. Some.
“Good day, ma’am,” he says. Recognition flashes in his eyes, but his tone is stilted. “Follow me, your cell is ready.” He turns to Aasim. “The Chancellor and his general are inside waiting for you, sir. They’re ready to begin.”
Luke, Bri’s green-haired, green-eyed boyfriend, chances a wink as he escorts us inside.
CHAPTER 7
THE DETAINMENT ROOM IS a concrete box with a rectangular window on the far end. On the other side of the window is another room with three pairs of eyes fixed on me: the Chancellor, Aasim, and a man with a scar under his eye: the General, the Chancellor’s dawg. He wears a tunic the color of ice, and his eyes are even colder.
“Over here, Rue,” Luke calls. I back away from the window feeling sick. The way the Chancellor and his scar-faced errand boy are staring at me, I could be in deep shit.
A rancid smell like crayons stings my nose as I move to the center of the room, past a small cot and a single metal chair.
“If you’ll sit.”
“Nope, I’ll stand.” Something about standing makes me feel more… ready, more… in control.
“O-okay. Th-that’s fine.” Luke plucks a syringe from a metal tray. “This might hurt a little bit.” He cranes his neck for a good angle. “Could you lift up your…”
I grab my nest of curls and hold it off my neck.
“Yep, perfect. Just like that.”
My neck stings a moment before a tingling sensation takes over like ice water seeping into my veins.
“Another second. Almost done.”
“What exactly is this?” I ask, grimacing. A question you ask before you let someone cut your skin open.
Luke resurfaces, a silver disc the size of a penny floating above his palm. “A tracker,” he says discreetly. “The General told me to. But don’t sweat it,” he says, leaning in, a satisfied smile on his face. “Bri can deactivate it if you want. Just tell her it’s the Z300 model. She’ll know what I mean.”
“Slow down, techie. Why do I need a tracker?” I whisper.
“They told me to do it,” he says, leaning his head toward a tinted two-way window. “I’m just following orders.”
“I see.”
Next, he hands me a cup. “Drink up.”
The liquid is bitter on my tongue and I gag.
“It’s an antidote for the chaser. Water will only get you so far… and it’ll wear off eventually.”
I take another sip. It’s like drinking perfume. I clamp my mouth shut so I don’t spit it back out. The men behind the glass beside Aasim still stare, arms folded.
The Chancellor moves closer to the window like he’s studying me, and I bristle at his stare. He’s ’bout my height with a boxy frame and chiseled cheeks. His eyes have dark circles around them, and something about his RBF says he’s always thinking… plotting… planning.