“We have no other options.” He stands so close it is possible he can feel my unchained heart. With each pump my body seems to rock back and forth.
Kilon hurries into the room. “They’re waiting.”
“Right now?” I ask, surprised.
“Yes. I’ve tried for the last hour to convince them otherwise, but you are expected,” Arek says.
A deep breath lifts my chest.
“Before we go,” Kilon says, and Arek turns to him. “They have one request.” Kilon pulls from under his jacket something metal and places it in Arek’s hand. When Arek turns back to me his discomfort is obvious, which makes me stare at his white knuckles. He holds a pair of deep black handcuffs that look nothing like the silver ones of old.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“They need to know that everyone is safe.”
“And I would be reason for people to not be safe?”
“If you were your old self . . . then, yes.”
I can’t believe what he is saying. “You were there when I was left for dead because I couldn’t defend myself. You think I need those?”
“No, but others are concerned.”
“What others?”
“Leigh Rykor, for one.”
This catches my attention. “Rykor?”
“Yes.” He says it as though he doesn’t want to explain yet knows he must. “My father, Leigh Rykor. He’s the head of the Protectors, and he needs to make sure that the Electi is safe.”
Kilon steps forward, “He is waiting.” He reaches for the handcuffs, but Arek won’t let them go.
“No, I’ll do it.” Arek takes the last step until my chest is nearly touching his and I hold my breath so nothing will move. “I need you to trust me.” He turns me around so that my back is to him. The cold metal wraps around one wrist at a time with a machine gun click into place. No matter how gentle he is, the metal still strangles my wrist bone.
At that moment it is possible that not even being buried alive would have been worse than this—the constriction of my chest and breathing—it is hard to stay calm. Being in handcuffs isn’t the norm for most and certainly not me, yet what did that say about who they thought me to be? Who had Remy been?
Kilon on one side and Arek on the other, they lead me out of the basement and through the home. Before we enter the kitchen where everyone waits, I stop. “Wait!” I try to control my breathing. “I can’t do this.” My throat tightens.
“We have to, and you can,” he states.
“You won’t let anything happen,” I hope.
Arek places a hand on my neck and unexpectedly a new man stares into my eyes. “Never. I promise you.” Just as before, deep within, there is a fascinating ability to trust him. “This will all make sense soon.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Just outside a room off the back of the house, two men in suits and earpieces stand like statues.
“Who’s in there?” I ask.
“The Electi. This conversation is for him and me. Just stand there quietly.”
“I have a job in San Francisco where kids are waiting for me.”
“After everything that has happened, you are worried about your students?” Kilon questions.
“That’s the world I know.”
“Everything has been taken care of. Ian is on his way back to make sure things are well with your life,” Kilon explains.
My abrupt stop makes the guards take notice. “Ian’s gone?” A painful lump in my throat can’t be swallowed away as my eyes burn.
“We can’t have him here,” Arek explains.
“And he listened? You think he’s going to do what you ask? You’re bigger fools than me.”
“We have our ways.” Kilon grins. “Give me a moment,” Kilon says before he hurries past the guards and into the room beyond.
I look out a window at the blanketed piece of land. Snow seems to make the life within the wild sleepy, from chirps, breeze, water, nothing is active.
“He’ll be back,” Arek finally speaks without eye contact. I know he isn’t talking about Kilon. “He’s going to tell everyone the story we’ve asked him to tell.”
“What story is that?”
“That you decided to use the tickets your mother bought you last year.”
His answer catches me off guard. “It’s a bit disconcerting how much you know about me.”
