The Gender War (The Gender Game #4)(91)



Thomas had easily been able to dive into the vehicle’s wiring to start the car without its key, and we’d only driven together a short way since then—right up to an invisible line that Thomas had pointed out as the palace cameras’ blind spot. After this, I would be driving solo, unless you counted the unwilling king.

Jay shut the door, and then they were moving, running with precision, staying out of sight. I watched them go for a moment, and then turned back and gazed at Maxen’s palace. It was massive, standing several stories high; large enough to make Ashabee’s mansion look like a regular house.

Leading to the huge structure was a road that ran over the river. The road had a concrete archway and led to the first of the series of open courtyards. I felt a moment of apprehension and gripped the wheel tighter, drawing a deep breath to steel myself for what was to come.

“I am really sorry about this, Maxen,” I said, looking over at him. “I promise, if I can, I will get you out of here alive.”

Maxen’s response was both angry and muffled, and I ignored it as I stomped on the accelerator. The car jerked forward a few inches but remained still, and I backed off slightly, confused as to why it wasn’t working. The tires were squealing on the pavement, and I let out an irritated sigh as I realized that I was still pressing down on the brake with my other foot. Giving King Maxen an embarrassed look, I pulled my foot off of the brake and we flew forward, swerving back and forth until I got the wheel under control.

Within moments we were blazing up the road at high speed, and I had to pump the brakes a few times to slow us down. Maxen made an alarmed noise as I pulled under the arch, slamming on the brakes in time to avoid hitting the platoon of male and female wardens standing in front of a Patrian warden truck, all of it blocking the way in. We skidded to a stop, and I rolled down the window, showing them my hands.

“My name is Violet Bates,” I shouted, my voice echoing like thunder through the six-foot-long tunnel. “Tabitha is expecting me—I’m unarmed.”

One of the men—a Patrian warden with flint-colored eyes and a well-groomed beard—stepped forward and waved at me, indicating I should get out of the vehicle. I put the car in park, and then stepped out, taking a moment to hoist the silver egg that had been riding on my lap into my arms. Closing the door, I stepped forward, cradling the egg to my chest.

The man strode forward to meet me, a handheld in his grip. “Here,” he grunted, thrusting it out. Then his eyes widened as he took in the passenger of my car. “She’s got the king with her!” he shouted, and the group of men and women around him gave a collective murmur of interest, breaking into whispers.

I accepted the handheld after freeing up my left hand by cradling the egg securely in my right elbow. Tabitha’s face loomed on the screen. Panic gripped me, primal fear flooding my veins, as her image dragged me back to that torture room—but I thrust the fear aside, allowing it to be swallowed by the manic rage that had been building in me since Amber had uttered her name. I focused on that feeling, letting it pour out of me and taint my speech. Usually anger was what I pushed back, but now, it was my greatest ally.

“Give me my family,” I said to her image. “And I’ll give you the present I brought you.”

Tabitha smiled maliciously, her voice low and venomous, even through the handheld’s tinny speakers. “How sweet of you—just what I’ve been looking for! Drive through the courtyard and park your vehicle at the guard’s station. I will have the wardens escort you and your… gift to their offices.”

I shook my head. “No deal—we meet at the inner courtyard.”

Tabitha raised an imperious eyebrow and smirked at me. “You’re hardly in a position to negotiate.”

I looked at the man standing next to me and smiled in what I hoped was a friendly way. “Can you hold this for me?” I asked, holding out the handheld. His brows drew together in confusion, but he nodded and accepted it, stepping a few paces back. “Keep it pointed at me… she can see me, right?”

“And hear you,” Tabitha replied, an irritated edge in her voice. “Really, what is this—”

I cut her off, taking pleasure in doing so, and turned the egg around. “This is about the explosives I have attached to your precious egg. It’s also about how you have to decide what’s more important—seeing me, the king, and all of these really nice people die, or losing your precious egg.”

The warden widened his eyes, and I saw him slowly reaching for his gun, impeded by the handheld in his other hand. That was when I whipped a detonator out of my shirt pocket and held it up for everyone to see. “Click boom, people,” I announced, giving a pointed look at the man’s pistol. “Let’s ease up a bit.”

On the handheld, Tabitha made a tight growl, but I couldn’t afford to look back at her. I needed to keep my gaze on the wardens standing around me in case one of them tried their luck and opted to fire. I really hoped they didn’t—I had no desire to die this way—but they needed to believe I was serious. Tabitha needed to believe I was serious.

“Five seconds, Tabby,” I crooned with a smile, still not looking at the screen, moving my hand over the button. “Five, four, three, two…”

“All right!” she bellowed. “We will meet you at the inner courtyard. Guards, allow her to drive through to the guard station in the outer courtyard. No harm will come to her—we have no idea where her boyfriend is, but if he’s near, he might have a second detonator.”

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