Traitor Born (Secondborn #2)(43)

Both Hawthorne and Reykin are on their feet, sizing each other up, when I exit the bathroom. “Let’s go,” I order Reykin, holding my side. His eyes widen in surprise. I don’t think he realized the extent of my injuries. The black robe had covered a multitude of wounds. Now they’re a billboard on my skin.

“Roselle,” Hawthorne growls between clenched teeth. He doesn’t understand what’s happening here.

“It’s okay, Hawthorne.” I try to give him a reassuring smile. “He won’t hurt me. He’ll take me back to the Halo Palace where I’ll be protected. You don’t have to worry.”

“Who is he!” Hawthorne demands.

“If I tell you, he’ll kill you. Trust me, Hawthorne, it’s better this way. I’ll see you soon.”

Hawthorne is visibly shaking with rage. He points at Reykin. “If you hurt her, I’ll rip your heart out.”

“It’s already gone,” Reykin retorts. The belligerent firstborn Star gestures to the door. We pass through to a small garden and into the shadows of a coming dawn.





Chapter 10

The Nature of Dawn

I hold my stinging ribs, silently cursing Reykin.

Speckled with stones, moss, and prickly things, a path winds through the majestic trees and shrubbery. The stones dig into my bare feet. Reykin trails behind me. My pace is slow because every step hurts. He touches my elbow. I ease my arm away from him, even though I could use the support. We trudge along the path, and every few steps Reykin glances behind us, maybe expecting to see Hawthorne. He won’t. Hawthorne is stealth itself. He won’t try anything, though, not with Reykin training his fusionmag on me.

We make it to the tree line near the lake. Just inside the copse, a black airship rests beneath a small pile of fir boughs. Reykin pulls them off the concealed airship. The sun hasn’t broken the horizon, but the gray shadows are pushing back. Reykin opens the copilot door for me. I hold my breath, carefully climbing onto the seat. He closes my door and rounds the airship.

Once inside the two-seater aircraft, Reykin tucks his fusionmag into the black holster on the side of his chest. He spares little time getting us into the air. We fly low, skimming just above the leafy canopy, avoiding detection. The set of his jaw tells me I’m in dangerous territory with him. I’m confused about why, but I’m unwilling to ask. Nor will I explain myself to him. It’s time he learns that he doesn’t own me.

“Have you ever thought about the nature of dawn?” I ask. Reykin doesn’t answer. “I have. When you’re a soldier, you think about those things, especially because you hardly ever see the sunrise unless you’re in battle.” He doesn’t look at me, but he’s listening. “I’ve heard it said that dawn is the light, asking the night for permission to exist.”

Reykin snorts rudely.

“I agree,” I reply, watching the sun break the plane of the horizon. “I don’t subscribe to that either. I believe dawn is the violent overthrow of night. But night is always still there—just on the periphery—waiting . . . and at the end of the day, it comes to claim us all.”

“I thought you were dead!” Reykin shouts. My fingers curls on the armrest in reaction to his violent outburst. “Witnesses saw you push a man through a window at the top of the building. Sea-Fated divers are dragging the lake beneath the social club searching for your body.”

“People think I’m dead?” I ask.

“No one survives that fall!”

“I had hoverdiscs on. One of them continued to work. How did you find me?”

“I infiltrated the secure access at the Halo Palace and located your moniker tracking . . . and then I waited. At first there was nothing. You were just gone. But then, I got a ping. It faded in and out, but it was there. The readings were bizarre: spotty location, alarming health readouts, hypothermia, distress. I was sure you were alive, but being tortured.”

“My ribs are broken. I soaked in a bath of ice water last night. If you think that I derived any pleasure from it, I invite you to try it. I’ll even break your ribs for you.”

He makes a growling sound that raises the fine hairs on my arms. “I thought you and Trugrave . . .”

“I know what you thought, and it’s none of your business!” I retort.

“It is my business! I can’t hide you like I hid your friend Hammon. Most people know you on sight.”

“Don’t try to shame me, Reykin. You spent the whole night and an entire day in my apartment alone with me. You’re a firstborn. It’s the same thing.”

“That was different!”

“How was it different?” I ask.

“It just was. I wasn’t in your bed with you all night. Dune wasn’t standing by the social club’s lake, demanding it be drained.”

I cringe. “Does he know I’m alive?”

“He doesn’t know for sure yet,” Reykin admits.

“You knew I was alive when my moniker showed the coordinates of Hawthorne’s home,” I press. “Why didn’t you tell him then?”

He ignores my question. “Tell me, why is Hawthorne still alive? Your brother didn’t kill him. Maybe your new firstborn Sword changed his mind and decided your brother and mother were the safer side?”