Elites of Eden (Children of Eden #2)(60)

Flint spins me around by the shoulder, and this time Lachlan doesn’t intervene. I think I understand why. “What do you mean?”

I regard him coldly. “I mean simply this: if you don’t help me rescue my brother, I won’t help you get the implants you need from the cybersurgeon.”

Flint starts to fume and sputter, a far cry from the collected leader I’ve come to know. “This is preposterous! We take you in when you have no one, nowhere else to go. You depend on us. If it wasn’t for us, you and every other second child would be dead. And you think you can defy us?”

My only reaction is to blink once.

“You heard me,” I say evenly.

“You stupid girl, do you think we won’t make you tell us what you know?”

I raise my eyebrows slightly, though I can already feel my lungs tighten. “You tried that before,” I tell him, trying to throw as much disdain into my voice as I can. “Didn’t get very far, did you? As I recall you didn’t get any useful information out of me even when I thought you were a Center official. What do you think you’ll get now that I know you’re just a cringing second child skulking in an underground lair . . . with my brother’s very life at stake.” I’m talking so much more bravely than I feel.

“You’d break,” Flint says, but he doesn’t sound so sure.

“She would,” Lachlan says to my surprise. “But how long would it take? We need to get the lenses soon. Particularly if there’s any risk that the traitor in the Edge might know about us. We need to set our plan in motion, and it can only work if I have the lenses. Of course you can break her, eventually. But what if it takes days? What if she dies in the process?”

I know exactly what he’s doing, but I give no sign. Flint looks uncertain, and the uncertainty makes him angry. I don’t know much about government, but I don’t think easy anger is a good thing in a leader.

“You want to save what you love,” I point out. “So do I.”

“Outside,” Flint snaps to Lachlan and turns on his heel. Lachlan follows, and as he passes me he winks.

Alone, I wrap my arms around Lark and hold her tight. I can feel her body trembling, and I embrace her until the tremors start to subside.

“What is this place?” she asks.

Maybe I shouldn’t tell her anything. What she already knows—or must have figured out by now—could get her killed. But she’s my friend, and she should know. She made a mistake revealing secrets before. She’ll know to be more careful now.

“It’s called the Underground. It was designed as a backup for Eden, if anything went wrong. Now it’s a secret sanctuary for second children.”

Her face lights up, as if she’s forgotten all about her torture, her uncertain fate. “You have a home! A place just for you! I’m so happy for you. But . . .” Her face falls, and I can see her lively mind calculating. “But won’t I be able to see you? Won’t you be able to leave, or can’t I visit?”

“Lark, there’s so much I don’t know yet. I don’t know what the Edge does, but the Underground is serious. A lot of lives depend on this place, and keeping it secret.”

She looks a little sulky, then shakes her head, her lilac hair lashing her cheeks. “You’ll sneak out,” she says with confidence, a mischievous smile on her face. “You’ll come to me. I know you will.”

And even in the middle of danger and doubt I feel the irresistible pull of her, and know that no matter what happens, no matter what the risk, I’ll try to see her again.

Lachlan comes in, stopping short when he sees us embracing, our faces so near, Lark’s eyes sparkling. A quick frown darkens his brow, clearing almost before I know it’s there.

I pull away from Lark awkwardly, one finger catching in a snarl of her disheveled hair. I don’t know which one of them to look at. I owe so much to both of them. But what I feel—for both of them—doesn’t stem strictly from obligation. Feelings, new and strange, swirl in me, and right now there’s only one thing I can do. Ignore them. It’s like being awed by the grandeur of a mountain peak, and fearing the coming struggle to climb it . . . while you’re still fording the raging river at its base. The mountain of Lachlan and Lark, of their kisses, looms, inescapable before me. But it’s not immediate, and I have to turn my mind away from it.

“So?” I ask, making myself defiant with my hands on my hips.

“Flint has agreed,” he begins, and by a quirk of his mouth I can tell the more accurate words would be has been persuaded, “to let me help you rescue Ash.”

With a quick gasp of relief I reach for him . . . and stop myself.

“With certain conditions,” he adds. “First, Lark will be drugged before we leave. She’ll be unconscious, and when she wakes she probably won’t be able to remember much of the last twenty-four hours. Is that acceptable?”

I look to Lark, and she nods.

“Not that we don’t trust you, but,” he narrows his eyes at her, “people make mistakes.” She bows her head, cringing. “I’ll come for you later, you’ll get me inside the Center, and you will never make any attempt to find the Underground, or contact Rowan, again.”

“But . . . ,” both Lark and I say at the same time.