Deviation (Clone Chronicles #2)(51)
She must have information Titus doesn’t want shared. Why else would he lock her away? And why else would she have risked herself to pass along to me whatever she’d been trying to say?
What would the world think if I suddenly appeared with another me by my side?
The thought lingers, wedging firmly into place. It’s the first real idea I’ve had regarding exposure. If I could get her out, present us to the world, what would they say then? They’d have no choice but to acknowledge Twig City, the residents so much like humans that they deserve the same freedom … right? Unless people like Taylor decide they’re undesirable and ship them off to the lower half of the city. But even segregation would be more of a freedom than this.
As we pass through the front door and into the night air once more, Titus lets go of my elbow and I shake free of not only his touch but the thousands of questions that barrage me. None of it matters.
Raven is alive. And she’s inside Twig City.
Chapter Fourteen
The return to Rogen Tower is somber with an undercurrent of urgency. The men shift in their seats several times before we even reach the main road. Someone hands me an aspirin and a bottle of water. I take it gladly.
The sky is lighter when we finally break free of the trees, a grayish haze that grows slowly brighter as we approach the city.
From my place between Alton and Deitrich, I watch the landscape change from trees and wheat fields to dilapidated buildings, marking our re-entry. The lower downtown area is just as I remembered: dirty and derelict, its inhabitants hollow-eyed from their missing hope.
A dozen red lights later, the scenery changes again. Brick and limestone homes with wrought-iron railings and wraparound porches. They’re built close to the street. Obadiah says it’s to deter criminals from prowling the property. Street views mean more eyes to witness. But I wonder if that would even matter. Not many I’ve met from Raven’s world seem to care much for the next guy.
At the top of a hill, we turn left toward uptown and the driver slows for traffic. Cars slide in beside us as the road widens to multiple lanes. The sky is streaked pink with daybreak but buildings on either side block out most of the sunlight and probably all of its warmth.
We pull to an abrupt stop and I’m shoved forward with the momentum. My seatbelt catches and then I’m driven back again. Titus scowls and punches a button beside him. The partition between us and the driver lowers. “Traffic,” our driver explains before anyone can say a word.
“We don’t have time for this,” Titus snaps. “Get us home.”
“Yes, sir,” the driver mumbles. With the partition down, I see nothing but red taillights and bumper-to-bumper traffic ahead.
A throaty engine whirs to life up ahead, whizzing off before I can catch a glimpse. Again, it makes me think of Linc’s motorcycle but I can’t see beyond the parking lot of cars.
“Now,” Titus demands, slapping the partition for emphasis. The driver flinches but our car doesn’t move. There’s nowhere to go. I wait for the driver to say as much, but he just turns the wheel a hard right, punches the gas, and launches us down a side street hard enough to drive me back against the leather.
Satisfied, Titus raises the partition once again.
The rest of the drive is fast and jerky. I concentrate on sticking to my space as we round turns that threaten to throw me against Alton or Deitrich. I don’t want to land on either one. Staying upright is a full-time distraction. I don’t give myself a single second to remember the things I’ve just seen back at the City. There will be plenty of time later—when I’m not thrown around like a bale of hay.
Finally, the car lurches to a stop and Deitrich is out the door before I can confirm we’ve arrived. He turns back, gesturing with his hand for me to hurry and follow. Alton is practically shoving me from behind. I scoot out, trying to get my bearings.
We’ve parked in the alleyway, the same alley Melanie attacked me in before. The same alley I stood in when she told me I had all of the ingredients to be human. That it was up to me now to protect the rest of my kind. The last place she stood before captivity. Before.
I shiver, from the cold or the memories I’m not sure.
Titus marches to the front of the group and leads the way to the side entrance. He swipes a card and the lock clicks. Deitrich holds the door for me as I bring up the rear. My feet hesitate. I don’t want to go back but I don’t want to move forward, either.
Titus notices my hesitation and barks, “Come,” from the open doorway. And I do.
The moment we arrive upstairs there is a flurry of activity. Titus switches gears, barking commands and calling for “all hands” right there in the parlor—a room normally set aside for his personal space but tonight is the hub of “meet me here” and “report there for further instruction.”
I am not informed of the details of the situation that has called everyone to such focused action nor do I care when the only member of security left standing is Linc.
He has cleaned himself up since I last saw him. Fresh clothes and even from several feet away I smell the soap from his shower. The skin around his left eye is swollen and already turning a sickly shade of yellow. A small cut is visible along his jaw and another below his ear. His neck holds a few scrapes and a red mark that looks raised like a welt.
I think of the fight and what caused it. Not necessarily Titus orchestrating but Daniel actually going for the bait Titus laid out for him. He seemed so different with me. Almost gentle. And sane. Would he really attack an innocent girl? More importantly, a girl who isn’t a Raven? Other than Melanie, he’s never shown interest in other girls—and even then his feeling hadn’t matched hers. It hadn’t come close to the emotion he showed when he spoke of Raven—his Raven. Is she the one I saw?