Folsom (End of Men, #1)(64)

“I’m fine,” he says, gripping my forearms. “My father…?”

I drop my hands. “I don’t know. They took him. I don’t know where he is. They were angry when he wouldn’t sign you over to them…angry about me probably…”

Laticus’ face turns hard. “He should have let them take me.”

I draw back, surprised by the tone of his voice…was he angry?

“He’s trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting.”

I swallow hard, swiping a loose hair behind my ear while I buy some time to think. I wasn’t expecting this.

“Are you hungry?” I ask. “Did they feed you?”

“I’m fine, Gwen.” He sounds almost impatient with me. Food had always worked with Laticus. Laticus the boy. This Laticus seems more like a man.

“You’ve changed,” I say gently. “Just in the short time since I’ve seen you.” I keep my voice light so he doesn’t think I’m criticizing him.

“Why did you bid?” he asks roughly. “You’re already pregnant…”

My mouth falls open. “I was trying to help you. I couldn’t let them—”

“What?”

“Laticus—”

“This is what I’m supposed to do. It’s no use fighting it. I was born for this purpose.”

So matter-of-fact. I can’t believe he’s saying this.

“No,” I say firmly. “The entire world cannot rest on your shoulders. Or on the End Men’s shoulders. That’s too much for anyone to bear.”

“It’s the only way,” he argues. “We are the only hope.”

His words make me sick. He’s regurgitating the Society’s rhetoric. They’ve brainwashed him.

Our eyes lock and I clench my fists at my sides. I’m having a standoff with a teenage boy. I drop my gaze, sighing deeply.

“Let’s get some sleep, okay? We can talk about this tomorrow.”

He nods once then marches to the couch. I remember doing the same thing to my mother when I didn’t like something she’d said. It turns out teenage boys aren’t so different than teenage girls. I use the bathroom, and when I come out five minutes later, I can hear his soft snores. I fall backwards onto the bed staring at the ceiling.

“Where are you, Kasper?”

I wake to a high-pitched trilling. It’s so loud I roll onto my side and cover my ears. Disoriented, I look around. An auction…a suite…Laticus! I jump to my feet, careening toward the living room. Laticus is standing by the window, looking down. His hair is disheveled and he’s shirtless. I have a brief moment of relief before I realize the noise hasn’t stopped.

“Fire alarm,” I say. “We have to leave.”

He nods and I can see the fear in his eyes. Eyes so much like Folsom’s. He’s just a boy, and he looks every bit of it right now. The same voice that greeted me yesterday speaks through the walls.

“There is a fire in the building,” it says calmly. “You must exit immediately. Please proceed to the stairs.”

I look around frantically. Where are the stairs? Where are the stairs?

“Laticus, do you know where they are?”

He shakes his head. Before I can take another step, a neon light appears on the floor, running a line straight across the kitchen and ending at a wall. I grab his hand and we follow it. The wall slides open as soon as we approach it and we walk through. Laticus looks at me with concern.

“It’s a lot of stairs.”

“I can do it,” I say, though I’m not sure I can. We’re nineteen floors up. My heart starts to race.

“Here,” he says. “Take my arm and hold onto the railing. We’ll step together.”

I have to stop several times to catch my breath. Laticus waits patiently for me while I close my eyes and try to ignore the cramping in my abdomen. We don’t see anyone else in the stairwell, and I don’t suppose we would since it’s the weekend. I wonder if guards were sent to the suite and if they’re after us now, but when I listen for the sound of footsteps, there are none.

When we finally emerge onto the street ten minutes later there is a crowd gathered on the sidewalk, their heads tilted up toward the building we just ran from. Flames burst from a window high above our heads, angry orange, flicking toward the sky like snake tongues. I count the windows until I reach the fire. Nineteen. Floor nineteen.

“It’s the Society,” I whisper to Laticus.

No one has noticed his presence yet; they’re too distracted by the fire. He looks at me wide-eyed. My eyes travel around the street deciding what to do. I left everything in the suite, including Kasper’s button and my Silverbook. I groan inwardly, kicking myself for my stupidity when I feel a hand clench around my forearm.

“Don’t say a word. Come with me,” a voice says in my ear. I reach for Laticus’ hand as I’m shoved forward, away from the people, away from safety.





THIRTY-THREE





GWEN


We are taken to a waiting car, the windows so darkened there’s no hope of anyone spotting us once we’re inside. They shove Laticus in first, and when I hesitate, I’m pushed roughly into the interior of the car, scraping my knee in the process. A man climbs in after me, followed by a woman. The woman, who has a shaved head and eyebrows pierced straight across, sits next to me, while the man takes a seat across from Laticus.