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Authors: Rashelle Workman

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

Exiled (22 page)

BOOK: Exiled
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“I don’t want to hurt you, but I need you to tell me the truth.”
She’d heard that tone in him before, when he’d told his mother to leave. Michael was deadly serious. Venus didn’t know whether to clap her encouragement or tell him to stop.
“Michael?”
“I’m waiting, Sharon.”
Between gasps, Sharon said, “They’re in room 105. Down the hall. Take a right.”
Michael let her go and she bent over taking in mouthfuls of air.
“Sharon, I’m sorry. Really.”
She stood.
Michael swung a fisted arm and punched her in the nose. A look crossed her face, somewhere between stunned and surprised. Then her eyes went blank, body slackened and she dropped like a stuffed doll. Venus listened to the thud of Sharon’s body smacking the concrete floor and let out a yelp. Couldn’t help it. Venus hadn’t been prepared for the violence.
“By the Gods.”
Michael picked Sharon up and set her on the cot. She looked like she slept, except for the angry red marks around her neck and the blood dripping from her nose. Michael took her badge and said, “I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a response, he dashed out of his cell and down the hall.
“Fabu, Michael.”
4
7. Where The Streets Have No Name

 

The idea of leaving this place hadn’t really entered her mind. She hadn’t seen Michael’s plan coming. While he was gone, Venus scrambled off the cot, put the tissues in Michael’s jacket pocket and then put the jacket on.
She waited.
And, waited.
After what felt like an eternity, she heard running. Michael slid to a stop in front of her cell. His animated face giving Venus courage. Her boots were in his hands. They didn’t look any worse for wear. In fact, they appeared the same as the last time she’d seen them. She shouldn’t have doubted. Technology hadn’t advanced enough here to harm her Kelvieri’s Boots.
He swiped Sharon’s card, which he now wore around his neck, and smiled. “Told ya I’d be right back.”
“Yeah, quick as a whip,” Venus said with a snort. Her body felt heavy, as though all her blood had drained into her feet. Black spots flashed before her eyes, and her head spun. She figured it was the medicine Sharon had given her, its effects lulling her to sleep.
He handed her the boots. “Here, put them on and let’s go.”
Venus moved to the cot and sat, willing her head to clear. She blinked a few times. That didn’t help. With a sigh, she slipped her feet into the boots, allowing the upper portion to close around her calves. Hoping for the best, Venus stood. “I’m ready, Michael.”
The words sounded like she’d spoken from inside a tunnel. They seemed far away. Her head grew more light-headed, a helium balloon that would soon float away. The black spots had become one large black hole. With a hand, she reached for the cool, steel bars, but they weren’t as close as she’d thought. With a thud, she fell onto her side, crunching her shoulder.
“Venus.”
She tried to reach out for him. He stood in front of her and she wanted to stand. He had other plans. She felt herself lifted into his strong arms. A cocoon of warmth and protection. “Michael, maybe . . . “
“Stay with me. I know you’re tired, but I need you to resist. I’ll carry you as much as possible, but you’re going to have to help. Okay?” He shook her.
“Okay.” Venus blinked her eyes open. The worry lines on his face made her want to reach out and touch his cheek, smooth them away. She blinked a few more times.
“Put your arms around my neck. I’m going to run.” The command inspired her and she reached out and touched his neck, linking her fingers behind it.
“Done.”
“Hang on.”
He jogged down the hall, took a left, another left, a right and stopped. The walls were all the same, a dingy off-white concrete. Every door they passed had a plaque above it, stamped with a number. On the right side of each door sat a rectangle box. Red lights flashing. She guessed that must’ve been what Sharon and Michael used to lock and unlock the doors. The ceiling also looked to be concrete. A long light would appeared every ten feet or so. Some of them had dead bugs inside the fixture. To keep herself alert, she counted the number of steps Michael took before another light came into view. Fifteen.
“Venus, can you grab the badge?”
It’d been squashed between them, but Venus gave it a yank. When it pulled free, she handed it to him. He bent slightly, letting out a small grunt and swiped the card. There was a beep and the door unlocked with a snap. Michael let the badge fall back to his chest and yanked the door opened. The lights weren’t on in this hallway. An eerie red glow emanated from a red bulb above the door.
“This can’t be good,” he said, moving forward.
The further they went in, the darker it became, until they were almost in pitch black. Michael slowed, carefully placing his feet so he wouldn’t run into anything. After a time, another red light shone. Venus heard him heave a sigh. She did the same.
When he reached a door, he zinged the badge and hurried through.
Out into the sunshine.
Free!
The notion invigorated her.
“Let me down,” Venus squinted, the sky dazzled, a light blue. Clear, not a cloud in sight.
He set her feet gently on the pavement.
“Where too?”
Michael pulled on the collar of his shirt to readjust it and then pinched the bridge of his nose. All the while turning from side to side. She followed him, getting her bearings. A chain-link fence stretched in front of them twenty feet away. It probably stood thirty feet high. Barbed-wire curled along the top. Beyond the fence, everything was yellow, dried and flat. Mountains stood way off in the distance, but they looked tiny.
“There,” Michael said, pointing. Venus followed his finger and saw the green army jeep. “Are you sure you can walk?” By his stance, she could tell he was prepared to sweep her into his arms again.
“I’m fine. Go.” She gave him a push. Relaxing her shoulders and taking as deep a breath as she dared, she followed.
He pulled the passenger door opened for her and she climbed in. The keys were in the ignition. Once Michael closed his door, he started up the engine. Now that she was seated and at the mercy of Michael and his driving, a twinge of panic set in.
What if someone sees us? What will they do? Shoot?
Michael threw the gear shift into reverse, backed up a ways, shoved the gear shift into first and they were on their way. He drove at a steady pace, scanning the chain-linked fence and buildings around them.
“What’re you looking for?” Venus asked. “Two sets of eyes are better than one.”
“I’m hoping to find a non-manned exit.”
“Got it.” She searched the fence-line with him. On her side were a bunch of buildings. As they turned right, passing them, she saw an exit. It wasn’t unmanned, but guarded by a guy holding a large rifle. “Cret.”
The man wore camo fatigues and a white hat shaped like a halved walnut on his head. He stood inside a tall, rectangle box. Left of the station box, a red and white striped fence blocked their escape.
Michael glanced over at her and said, “Hang on.”
Venus jolted into action. The black dash was covered in all sorts of buttons and knobs, but she found an empty spot and pressed against it. Then she spread her feet apart to brace them. Not very lady-like, especially in a hospital gown, but whatever.
He stepped on the gas and the jeep lurched forward, barreling toward the gate. The soldier jumped out of his white box, aimed the gun and fired. Michael pressed the gas harder, the engine revving as they careened forward. When it was clear he wasn’t slowing down, the armed man jumped out of the way.
As the jeep hit the fence, it sounded like erupting firecrackers. The broken pieces smashed against the hood and flipped up, crashing into the windshield. She let out a shriek, worried the glass would shatter, but there wasn’t a scratch. Michael gave her a huge grin.
“Bulletproof. I’ve always wanted to do that,” he said with a laugh.
“Faaaabuuuu.” Venus snickered, glad to be free of that place.
Michael hooted. “Totally fabu!”
They were driving on a bumpy, dirt road. On either side an occasional weed stood frozen in place by snow. A tumbleweed, icicles clinging, rolled in front of them. Michael plowed over it. She listened as it scratched its way under the vehicle.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Venus asked.
“No. Not really. But we’re going to follow this road and, and hopefully it’ll take us home.”
“Great. Um, whose home? Yours?” Venus asked, leaning back against the headrest.
“No, yours. We need to find Zaren. He’ll be able to help you get home . . . back to your planet, won’t he?”
“If anyone can, it’s him. It may not matter. We’ll see.” She rubbed her arms, trying to get rid of the chill stealing over her.
Without saying a word, Michael pressed a button and warm air blew from the dash.
She sighed. “Still it’s a good idea.” Zaren would know what to do. She hoped. Right now her body felt good. The medicine Sharon injected her with had provided temporary relief. Wearing her boots once again helped as well. When the drugs wore off, though, she had a sinking suspicion her body would be in more pain. Especially since the medication wasn’t healing, but masking her symptoms.
If her life ended, she was grateful it wouldn’t be at the hands of those horrible people. A lot better than dying like a caged animal. Deliberating about her death led her to think of Zaren. He’d be upset, but she couldn’t help it. Venus felt certain death would be along soon.
If she thought like Zaren, though, he’d tell her to stop moping, and fight. Anything was possible, right? And maybe he’d been able to talk to the Gods. Maybe they’d agreed to let her come home despite the fact that Michael hadn’t fallen
in
love.
Venus had tried . . .
Well, she tried to try . . .
Cret! I didn’t try at all.
Hope. Her word of the moment. Perhaps they’d felt sorry for her. Maybe the liars and murderers had been discovered. She knew that wasn’t true. If her family had vanished, her country would be in upheaval. Whoever did this knew what it meant to be a traitor, which was why they’d been able to frame her, and her family.
48. (I Just) Died In Your Arms

 

When they reached Dervinias’s little house, Michael pulled the stolen jeep in front. Venus jumped out and tried to run. It was more of a jog. When she got to the door, she held her breath and pushed it open.
“Zaren!”
Michael followed her in. Faster than lightning Zaren appeared next to her. Strong arms wrapped around her tightly. She rested her cheek against his chest. He felt so good, she wanted to cry. Lemon and a hint of sweat filled her nose.
“Zaren, did you talk to them?”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. Searching for some indication of trauma, Venus guessed. After a moment, he glared at Michael, his anger thick. He released her and lunged at Michael, shoving the palm of one hand into the boy’s chest. She knew he’d held back, since a real hit would’ve killed him. Michael sailed backward, his head smacking the wall, before crumbling to the floor with a moan.
Venus glared at Zaren, rushing to Michael. “Are you okay?”
“He shouldn’t be. I should kill him for what he did.”
Venus peered back and noticed his hands were clenched into fists, the muscles in his jaw grinding.
“Zaren, he helped me escape. Without him, I’d still be in that cell.”
“You were taken in the first place because of him! It’s all I can do to control my desire to kill him.” He paused, shaking his head, like he was trying to get the images he saw in her mind, out. “And I would’ve found you.”
He didn’t sound convinced. She must’ve been too far away. “Of course,” she said softly, squeezing his hand.
He grunted as he crouched next to her, and grabbed the collar of Michael’s shirt in a fisted hand, twisting and lifting. “If you’d allowed them to finish. If you hadn’t helped her . . . I! I—!”
“I know, man. I know.”
Zaren relaxed the grip on his shirt and shoved his palm into Michael’s forehead so his head smacked against the wall.
“Cret, Zaren. Seriously!” Michael made a mistake. She appreciated that he was trying to repair his wrongs. The way he’d felt was understandable. Given the circumstances she might’ve reacted the same way. Venus
had
said things . . . treated his mother without respect. He’d been dealing with a lot.
She and Michael were like two ends of the same string. And the longer they stayed attached, the stronger their connection grew. Their bond allowed her to experience his pain—emotionally and physically. Right now both were affecting him, in a terrible way.
“Zaren, help me get him over to the sofa,” she huffed.
Zaren sighed. “Yes, Princess.” He stuck a hand under Michael’s arm and hoisted him over his shoulder.
“This isn’t necessary. Put me down.”
Zaren shifted him on his shoulder and Michael groaned.
“Fine.”
Once they reached the living room, Venus pushed the remote and some newspapers out of the way. Zaren flung Michael onto the sofa.
“Easy, Bluto.”
“Don’t push me, runt.”
Venus patted Zaren on the chest. “Go get some ice, would you?”
When Zaren left, she moved Michael’s hair off his forehead. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. Please be okay.” She ran her fingers through his hair. Touching him, their closeness, she didn’t want to stop.
“Mmmmm, that feels good . . .
Princess.
” A slanted smirk appeared on his face.
She quickly moved her hand away.
What was she doing? Or more importantly, what was this guy doing to her?
Venus batted him on the forehead with her fingers.
“Hey. What was that for?”
Ignoring his question, she said, “Lift your head so I can tuck a pillow under it.” She chewed on her lip, nervous. “Go on,” she urged when he didn’t move fast enough.
“Thanks.”
“Of course.” She slid the pillow under his head. He still had a smirk on his face. “Are you even in pain, or pretending?” She tossed a pillow at him.
“I’m in terrible pain. You saw what the oaf did.” His smile grew genuine.
“I’ll show you oaf. Give me thirty seconds, that’s all it’ll take to turn you into hamburger,” Zaren said as he walked into the room with a bag of frozen peas. He stood over Michael and dropped the cold bag onto his chest. “Here you go, kiddo.”
“Gee, thanks Dad.” Michael stuck the bag of peas inside his shirt. “Ha. Cold.” He wriggled, trying to get into a more comfortable position, she supposed. “So, what’s the plan, Zaren, ole’ buddy. How are we going to help Venus get home?”

You
have done enough. Might as well scat back to your . . . father. I’m sure he’s curious about the latest developments.” Zaren pulled Venus to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. His strength buoyed her spirits.
“Look, I’m sorry. Okay.” Michael removed the peas and tossed them on the seat next to him. “My mother had just been murdered, and I wasn’t thinking straight.” He looked right at Venus and she noticed the peculiar expression on his face. “Venus, I am really sorry. What Abe and Frank did, I know I can’t take it back.” He shook his head as though trying to clear the awful images of tests they’d done to her, away. “I swear I want to help. Tell me what to do.” He sounded full of regret.
Venus glanced at Zaren wondering what he’d say. There wasn’t any point in sharing her feelings about how Michael could help. He’d needed to fall in love and he hadn’t. If the Gods were still denying her return . . . her life was over. But she wasn’t mad at him. The assignment Ith and Aetha gave her had been difficult—important for some reason, but difficult.
Zaren watched her face and sighed. “They—”
He wasn’t able to finish. A loud male shouted through a megaphone. “Come out with your hands up. We have the place surrounded.”
Zaren left her side and ran to the window. Venus followed. They pulled back the black curtain and saw several green military vehicles along with a white van and a lot of men with guns.
Michael came up behind them, “I’ll go out and talk to them. Zaren, get her away from here. I’ll meet up with you if I can. Where will you be?”
“The less you know, the better,” Zaren said to Michael, though his attention was focused on Venus, an odd look on his face.
What the cret is going on with these two?
It suddenly dawned on her that Michael and Zaren were jealous of each other, and Zaren was reading Michael’s thoughts.
Knock it off, Formytian,
she yelled internally.
“Let’s go, Venus.” Zaren started pulling her toward the back door.
“Wait,” she said, yanking her arm from his grasp. The idea of leaving Michael didn’t feel right. Venus knew it was the connection they had. “Zaren, can you give us a minute?”
“I’ll be in the kitchen.”
She waited until he’d gone, one hundred percent positive Zaren would listen to their conversation, but the fact remained, she had things to say. And while Venus knew her feelings—annoying as they were—rested mostly on Zaren, the undeniable bond between her and Michael had to be discussed. For her sake.
Three. Two. One.
“Michael,” Venus touched his arm. He looked down at her with such gloomy eyes. “Whatever happens, will you promise me you’ll allow yourself to truly love? Open yourself to it, regardless of the consequences. I know your parents did things—hurt you. I also know you have so much to give, so much love inside. I feel it. Every time I sleep, every time I’m near you. And, it isn’t just me. Ith and Aetha, the Gods I told you about, they feel it too.”
“I’ll try.” He nodded, tears surfacing on his lashes. “Adonis was an idiot. He rejected Venus and then he died.”
Venus blinked, curious as to why he was bringing up the Shakespearean character. “Yes, well Adonis cared more about the hunt than anything else, including love.”
“Venus. Beautiful Goddess . . .” He caressed her cheek with a thumb. “I’m not a fool—at least not as big of one as Adonis. I’ve done stupid stuff, hurt you, but I don’t want you to go.”
Venus shook her head. “I’m not a Goddess, and you aren’t a fool.” She reached up and put a hand over his, bringing it down and pressing it between both of hers. A tingle rushed through her body, but she shook it off. “One thing I know for certain is that my Gods believe you’re special. See, I’m sort of . . . well, you and I, the Gods somehow . . .” She wasn’t sure how to say it without sounding like a complete doof.
“We’re connected, you and I.” He pulled his hand from between hers. Then placed both of her small hands inside his much larger ones. “I realized it while Abe and Frank were testing you. It was as though everything they did to you, they were doing to me, too.”
Breathless, she said, “Yes, that’s right. And I’ve seen your life and what you’re capable of. I know you can have the kind of love you seek, the kind you deserve. I know it. You aren’t like Adonis. Find love.”
His fingers touched her hair and slid down to the nape of her neck. He gave a slight tug, raising her face to his. “Why does it matter that I discover love? Who am I to your Gods?” He searched her eyes, pleading.
Venus’s heart beat hard. Could he hear it? “I’m not sure, but they’ve decided you’re important. Who am I to question their decisions?” She shrugged, but couldn’t look away.
“This may sound crazy, but there’s something I should tell you. See, I think . . . No, that’s not true, I know I’ve—”
“You have thirty seconds and then we’re gonna start shooting.” Frank hollered through the megaphone.
“Cret!” They both said together, followed by soft laughter.
Venus needed to go. Plus, she didn’t want Michael getting hurt. Shooting her wouldn’t be a big deal. She’d be dead soon anyway, and Zaren couldn’t be hurt by bullets, but Michael could.
“Michael, go.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. It happened so suddenly, she sucked in, only for a second. As before, it seemed like time stopped for them. His lips caressed hers, pressed her mouth open. She responded with such force, she surprised herself. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer, their bodies touching. He lifted her and she wound her legs around his hips. One of his hands held her head, his fingers laced through strands of her hair while the other roamed her body. The smell of him—pears and sunshine—filled her senses as their lips continued in a steady, perfect rhythm.
After what seemed like seconds, she heard someone—Zaren—clear his throat.
“Venus, we have to leave.” He spoke with a quietness that brought her back to reality.
She released Michael, her breathing ragged. He reluctantly let her down, their fingers finding each other’s and entwined. His eyes held hers captive. She wanted—what? To stay? To die?
“Here, will you take this? To remember me.” He pulled the book he’d been reading from his back pocket and handed it to her. It was entitled:
Love Poems & Sonnets of William Shakespeare
.
She took it and held it to her chest. “Thank you, Michael. I’ll never forget you.”
He nodded as he worked to get his emotions under control. “And I’ll never forget you, Venus.”
“Goodbye.”
He raised a hand in farewell. She placed her palm against his briefly and then he turned and went through the living room, to the front door. His pain, his sorrow lingered on her fingertips. She knew he didn’t want their new relationship to end this way. Neither did she, but what other choice did she have?
Venus moved to watch him. He turned the handle and pulled, but before he went through, he paused and looked back. Unspoken words hovered on his lips.
“Go.”
He walked out the door, taking a piece of her with him. It hurt. An agonizing cry escaped her mouth. She covered it, surprised. Then walked to the kitchen, where Zaren waited. She couldn’t look at him. Too sad. Too embarrassed.
“I’ll need to carry you.”
She allowed him to pick her up. The back door had already been opened. She could see cars and men in green, but they wouldn’t stand a chance. Zaren could run faster than bullets.
“Ready?” he asked.
BOOK: Exiled
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