Saven Defiance (The Saven Series Book 4) (4 page)

Rylan notices Dante and his eyes pop wide. “Not without you!”

There is probably enough time to flee, but if Dante has gone to such lengths to entrap me, then he’s not going to give up the chase so easily. I don’t want to do anything to place my friends in jeopardy. The best option is to let Dante take me, and hopefully the others will get safely away. “It’s too late for that.” I run to him. The whole time, I’m keeping a beady eye on the advancing menace. “Get everyone else out of here. He only seems to want me.” Rylan doesn’t budge. “He has threatened to kill you all!” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs. “So get the hell out of here. Now!” He hovers uncertainly, a tormented look on his face. I shove at his chest. “Go, Rylan. Please. I’m begging you. Go!”

“We’ll get you both out of there. I promise!” He snags me into a quick hug before dashing back inside.

The walkway starts to close as I drag my weary body through the scorching-hot sand, making a deliberate beeline for Dante. I want to keep him away from the craft until they are airborne and free.

The gap between us closes, and his features are more discernible at this proximity. A smug smirk spreads across his mouth, and I hate that I’m playing directly into his hands. But he didn’t leave me much choice.

A vibrating hum tells me all I need to know. Lifting my head, I watch as the ship rises swiftly off the ground and shimmers out of sight. A large movement distorts the air, emitting a blast of billowing cloud-like puffs of smoke that streak for miles into the sky.

I sink to my knees on the sand, refusing to walk a step farther. The others are safe, and in this moment, that’s my only concern.

“Sweetheart,” Dante says, panting profusely, as he approaches my spot on the ground. “You’ve made my day. Stars”—he plops down beside me—“that was way too easy!” He laughs raucously, far too pleased with himself for my liking.

“Asshat.” My eyes narrow to slits as I glower at him.

He grips my chin, pinching hard. “It’s King Dante to you, and you better start showing me some respect.” All humor has evaporated from his expression.

“Or what?” I meet him with fake bravado.

“Or your precious Logan will suffer the consequences.” He spits Logan’s name out with habitual venom.

“What have you done to him? If you’ve hurt him, I swear to God …” I channel my most vicious look at him.

“Come now, cutie. You are hardly in any position to issue threats. Besides, it’s a moot point.” He pins me with a deadly look. “In both your cases.” Snatching a bottle of water from his shirt pocket, he empties the contents down his throat. Swallowing the last drop, he throws the empty bottle across the cavernous plain. “Get up.”

I ignore him. “What’s moot exactly?”

“I said. Get. Up.”

A purring noise overhead captures my attention. Titling my chin up, I watch as the humongous craft slowly lowers from above. Dante snags my elbow and lifts me up. “You’re a mess,” he exclaims, his eyes raking me from head to toe. The look of disgust is obvious on his face.

Good.

I’d much rather that than the opposite. I shiver at the recollection of his hands on intimate parts of me back at the underwater warehouse.

Hell. That feels like a lifetime ago.

Reluctantly, he pins me to his side as an invisible force sucks us up.

“Clean her up,” he says, thrusting me at a dark-haired guard waiting at the side of the landing bay. My whole body convulses as his unforgettable, intense green eyes pierce me with the magnitude of his hate. I affix my poker face and stare blankly at him. It’s no easy feat considering the last time we ran into each other he nearly killed me. At least, I assume
he
was the guard who shot me as we were escaping the Saven old district.

The guard propels me forward, and I trip over my feet, failing to match his gait. “Officer Vero,” Dante calls out from behind us. “Don’t let her out of your sight. Not for a second.” I throw a glance over my shoulder in time to see the sleazy grin on Dante’s face.

Everything inside me goes on high alert, and it’s a wonder my legs still work. My limbs feel like they’ve liquefied.

Officer Vero escorts me down a succession of wide corridors. The Saven we pass give us a wide berth, and I catch more than my fair share of dubious looks. Moving past an open door, I notice the panoramic observation window. We are on the STSS, and the thought is not at all comforting. This is the Saven’s main mode of transportation and their research and communications hub. Wild panic jumps up and bites me at the thought that they have obvious means of following my friends.

Turning myself in could all have been for nothing.

Nausea travels up my throat, and I have to force it back down.

Officer Vero swings left and guides me into a high-clearance zone. The passageway is narrower here, the lighting dark and ominous. We walk past rows of identical black doors. A few guards man the corridor. They nod respectfully at him as we pass by.

Finally, he stops at a door at the end of the corridor. Scanning his hand in front of the wall-mounted pad, he clasps my shoulders tightly as the door glides open. He pushes me into the cell with no attempt to disguise his ungentlemanly conduct. A floating cot resides on one side of the small space across from a low bench. An overhead cupboard is the only other item in the sparse room.

Officer Vero moves to the small black door on the opposite wall and steps out of the room. A minute later, the telltale sound of running water greets my ears. Walking out, he hurls a towel at me. “Get cleaned up.”

I maneuver around him, eyeing him warily. Stepping into the small bathroom, I take note of the compact shower, toilet, and basin. I stare at him as he takes up position in the open doorframe, clutching the towel to my chest. “Some privacy.” I grit my teeth as I glare at him.

His legs widen as he adopts a rigid stance. Crossing his arms at the waist, he levels an impassive look at me. “Get undressed and get in the shower. Or I’ll do it for you.”

Bile swills in my mouth, and I’m shaking all over. I can tell from our previous encounters that he detests me—most likely detests all humans and anyone who isn’t Saven—so I don’t think I need to worry about him attacking me, but that doesn’t mean I want to strip naked in front of him. But he’s issued a silent challenge, and I can’t back down from that.

He takes a menacing step forward, and I fall back, unbuttoning the top button of my shirt. I turn and face the shower, sharing my back with him. That way, at least, I won’t have to look at his face. I remove my clothes with trembling fingers. As I lower my panties to the floor, I wrap my arms around my bare chest and step into the shower.

Keeping my back to the monster outside, I wash all the grime and blood from my hair and my skin. But I take no pleasure or comfort in the warm water as it eases over my body. I take care of the essentials as fast as I can, and then I hop out, covering my chest again with my arms. I purposefully ignore Officer Vero as I swathe the towel around myself.

“Get dressed.” He hands me a plain black short-sleeved shirt and yoga-type pants. I snatch the clothes with one hand while I clasp the towel close to my body with the other. I move to turn around, but he captures my elbow. “Face forward.”

My breath hitches in my throat, and blood rushes to my cheeks. But I refuse to show obvious weakness in front of him. Summoning courage from somewhere, I drop the towel and hold his gaze. His eyes trek all over me, and a nasty sneer contorts his lips. Despite my conviction, my body quakes all over, but I’m powerless to halt my natural reaction.

If he had his hands on me, I don’t think I’d feel any more violated.

Pushing my humiliation aside, I yank the pants up my legs and shimmy the top down over my head. His eyes are glued to my chest, and I’m close to puking. If I ever get the opportunity, I’m going to make sure he pays for this.

Fire builds internally, zipping up and down my arms and legs, craving an outlet. I curse these restrictive bands, wishing I could indulge my power and incinerate him until there is nothing left but a pile of charred ashes.

The thought is tempting although it equally disgusts me. This is exactly why I should be glad I can’t tap into my incendio gift. No matter how humiliated I am, or how much I hate him, I know I’d never be able to forgive myself if I took his life in vengeance.

I’m not that person, and I won’t allow Griselda or her past experimentations to turn me into a monster like her.

My face is flaming as I face him. His eyes bore into mine, and I have to quell the urge to throw myself at him and scrape my nails across his smug face.

He exits the room while I stand rooted to the spot. My chest heaves painfully. “Follow me,” he snaps. I take my sweet time joining him in the corridor. Seizing my elbow, he yanks me back the way we came.

After ten minutes of walking along endless passageways, Officer Vero leads me into a small room with a wide desk and four surrounding chairs. “Sit.”

My middle finger twitches with violent need, but I keep myself under control. Haydn’s ministrations repeat on a loop in my brain, and I stay focused and alert despite the erratic pulsing of my heart. My brain hurts at the mere thought of my former friend. He’s probably delighted Dante has captured me.

One less problem for him to contend with.

I drum my fingers off the tabletop as I wait.

“Stop that.”

“Get lost.” I toss damp strands of hair over my shoulder.

He slams his hand down on top of mine. “Don’t test me,
human
.” He puts his face right in mine, but I hold my gaze steady.

Interesting. He seems clueless with regards to my true identity. I wonder if Dante is as ill-informed.

Dante chooses that exact moment to stroll into the room. His gaze flits between us, and an amused sneer lights up his face. “Sorry? Was I interrupting?”

Officer Vero straightens up. “I apologize, My King.” He does the weird half-bow thing, and it takes considerable effort to contain my disbelieving grunt of hilarity.

“Leave us.” Dante waves his hands dismissively through the air.

Officer Vero exits as two other aliens enter the room. “Sit over there,” Dante instructs them, pointing at the corner. The two males drag chairs over and sit down. The younger one, with the cropped black hair, leans forward in his seat. The red-rimmed tinted glasses give his identity away. He is the mirror image of the strange alien male I met in Sector Twenty the day Jarod and I snuck into the compound. But all seven Brainiacs look identical, so I can’t tell if he is the same one I met or not.

“Are you B6?” I ask.

“Yes,” he confirms.

“Do not talk to the prisoner!” Dante shouts at him. B6 jumps in his chair and shrinks back. “And you”—he jabs a finger in my collarbone—“keep your mouth shut. I’ll be the one asking the questions, not the other way around.”

I stick my tongue out at him.

Childish, but wonderfully fulfilling.

“Do that again and I’ll cut it off.” He looms over the table at me, and I’m reminded of the first time we met in the gym in the Mock-Up Facility. He intimidated the hell out of me then. Nothing much has changed, but for some unknown reason, I don’t feel afraid. Maybe facing the very real prospect of my death back on Torc has somehow changed my perception of fear. Of mortality.

“What did you do to Rylan?” I deliberately ignore his command.

“I. Said,” he roars, slamming his fist down hard on the table, “that I will be the one asking the questions. You don’t want to test me, Sadie.” His fists are knotted into tight balls of fury at his side as he glowers at me.

Perhaps I should ease off a little, but I need to ask another question. “Fine, have it your way. But I need to know one thing first. Where is Logan, and when can I see him?”

His nostrils flare and veins protrude in his neck. “That’s two questions. Don’t push me, cutie. This is your last warning. And don’t worry about that idiot brother of mine. You two will be reunited soon enough.” He snickers.

A serene sort of calmness washes over me at his admission. Everything will be okay once I see Logan again.

He slides into the chair and leans his elbows on the table. “What’s up with you and the silver-haired freak?” My eyes highlight my surprise at the starting point of his line of inquiry. “Don’t even think about lying. Zathur is a Truethen, and he can detect if you’re telling the truth or not.” He flicks his head at the older alien male seated beside the Brainiac.

“I’m sure I don’t know who you mean,” I lie, folding my arms and slouching in my chair.

“Even I know that’s a lie. I saw you with him and the Tor girl in the desert. I thought you were smarter than this. I’ll give you one more chance to answer truthfully. If you don’t, I will instruct Officer Vero to contact the dungeon, and Logan will pay the price for your lack of cooperation.”

That sobers me right up. And if he saw all of us in the Gobi Desert, that can only mean one thing—that he was tracking my comport, too. I sit up straighter in my chair. “You mean Axton?”

He nods. “You were looking pretty cozy, I might add. I don’t think my idiot brother will be pleased to hear that.” He smirks and I wish I could wipe the leering smile off his face.

Crap. I don’t want to tell him anything about Ax, because, for all I know, he’ll target him next. It’s as if he has a personal vendetta against me. But if I lie, Zathur will know. I need to buy some time while I figure out a way of answering vaguely.

“Why do you care about him?”

“That’s irrelevant. Just answer the damned question.”

“He helped me escape from Torc.”

“I heard a couple of rumors about that. Explain.”

I figure there isn’t much harm in feeding him tidbits, especially if he’s already heard whispers of what transpired on Torc, and it’s a great way of deflecting the subject from Ax. And, if he hears I’m part Saven, maybe his view might change.

Highly unlikely, but he’s a total psycho, with no moral compass whatsoever, so who knows how his mind works?

I give him a concise summary of how and why I was taken to Torc, holding vital information back. It’s enough of the truth to count.