Outcasts (47 page)

“So find a way to cut off access to flights?” Levi suggested.

Ruston shook his head. “Only a few helicopters are kept inside the walls. The rest are out at the Old Crested Butte airport.”

“Are any of your people pilots?” Levi asked.

“I wish,” Ruston said. “Flight is a heavily guarded task in the Safe Lands. They have the test programmed to select only two new pilot candidates each year. And even though we have a man in registration, the pilot positions are always assigned by the task director general.”

“And the tutorials for pilots are kept in some vault. Not really, but it sure seems that way when I’ve tried to — Mason’s leaving the room,” Zane said, drawing Levi’s attention back to screen two, which showed that Mason was walking up a fancy staircase.

Be careful, brother
, Levi thought, wishing he could see Omar too, wishing he was there to keep them both from getting killed.

S
haylinn forced herself to calm down as the car rolled forward. Omar would come back. He had to avoid being caught or he couldn’t help her. He’d be back. He’d promised.

But she didn’t know what to make of Omar’s promises. Loving him was easy, but trusting him was hard. At least he’d come for her.
Omar
had come. Not Levi or Mason or even Jordan. That had to mean something, didn’t it? She repeated the verse Omar shared — or at least tried to: I trust in God and won’t be scared. What can man do to me?

Man could kill her. But then she’d be in heaven with her mother and father and grandparents and her brother Joel, and she’d be happy. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? She recalled a quote Jemma loved. “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

The car left the smooth road and rocked over jagged terrain before coming to a stop on an incline. Shaylinn slid forward and pressed her hands against the back of the trunk to hold herself steady and protect her head.

She struggled to turn until she had her back to the wall, which
was a bit more comfortable. If she thought too much about where she was, that she was trapped and couldn’t extend her legs, panic fluttered in her chest. So she forced her thoughts elsewhere. But Shaylinn was torn. She wanted to get out, yet staying in the trunk might be safer. At least the trunk was a barrier between her and Rewl and his icky teeth.

But then the trunk slid open. Shaylinn covered her face with her hands, hoping that whoever it was would think she was sleeping.

“Get out,” Rewl said. “Don’t make me drag you.”

Shaylinn blew out an angry breath and pushed herself to a sitting position. “You don’t have to be mean.”

Rewl stepped back from the car, his gun trained on Shaylinn. She looked beyond where he stood and gasped. Rewl had parked on a grassy hill beside a castle made of smooth gray rocks. Lights lit up the doorways and balconies like yellow stars glowing in the dim light of dawn. The sky was pink with purple-gray clouds, and the pine trees that loomed beside the house were black silhouettes against it.

“It’s beautiful.” Who might live in such a place? She wished Jemma could see it.

“Hurry up.” Rewl lunged forward and grabbed her arm. He pulled so hard that she scrambled to get her feet underneath herself so she wouldn’t fall onto the ground.

They walked up to the house, and once she was level with the back patio, she saw the pool. “Oh!” Like a mirror of glass, it stretched out from the back of the house, surrounded by the patio made from slabs of gray rock that matched the castle. Fat stone bowls edged the pool and were filled to overflowing with dark pink and purple flowers. Shaylinn breathed deeply, enjoying the mixed scent of the spicy sweet flowers and pine.

Rewl grabbed her arm again and pulled her along the patio onto a porch of wood slats. Just ahead, an enforcer was holding a door open for them, and they entered an oval-shaped room. The walls were paneled in light pine, and the floor was stone. Ugly blue-and-peach-flow-ered chairs sat around the perimeter except where three long closets
broke the space. The closets had no doors and were filled with outdoor clothing and skis and helmets.

“Where am I taking her?” Rewl asked the enforcer.

“I’ll show you.”

The enforcer led them down a hallway that was covered in paintings of landscapes. She wondered if Omar would like them. They took a narrow, wooden stairway up to the second floor and walked down another hallway. This one was twice as wide as the one downstairs and covered in soft beige carpet that reminded her of the harem.

The enforcer opened a door and held it. Rewl nudged Shaylinn inside and remained right behind her.

“Wow.” Shaylinn stopped inside a bedroom. Almost everything was white. The bed was fat with white pillows and a fluffy blanket. Curtains ran floor to ceiling over the balcony windows. The carpet was a background of green covered in white flowers and leaves. Here and there accents of jade and gold complemented the room.

A baby’s gurgling pulled her gaze to one of two green wingback chairs sitting before a golden hearth. A blonde woman was sitting in one of them, holding an infant. Ciddah, the medic Mason loved.

“Oh,” Shaylinn said, wondering if Ciddah was helping Rewl or not.

“Talkative one, isn’t she?” the enforcer said.

“Wait here to be discovered,” Rewl said. “And don’t try to escape.” He walked out of the room and the enforcer closed the door, leaving Shaylinn alone with Ciddah and the baby. What did that mean,
Wait here to be discovered
?

“You
can’t
escape,” Ciddah said. “I’ve tried and failed three times since I got here.”

So Ciddah was a prisoner too? Shaylinn was glad, for Mason’s sake. “Is that your baby?”

Ciddah rocked the baby in her arms. “It’s Kendall Collin’s baby.”

Oh, dear. Kendall must have been very upset when she didn’t find her child in the nursery. Omar probably had consoled her. Shaylinn scowled at the idea.

Stop it
, she told herself. Jealous thoughts could change nothing. They would only make her angry.

“Why did he bring you here?” Ciddah asked.

“Something to do with getting the task director general in trouble.” Shaylinn sat on the second wingback chair. It was soft. “Omar is here. He’s going to rescue me. Us, if you want to come.”

“Omar?” Ciddah raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t he the one who got your people into trouble in the first place? The one who OD’d?”

“Yes, but he’s changing. Or starting to, anyway.” He just needed people to believe in him, like Shaylinn did — or tried to.

“Have you seen Mason lately?” Ciddah asked, and, for some reason, the worry in the medic’s eyes made Shaylinn blush.

“I saw him tonight — last night, before they left.”

“Who’s they?”

Should she tell Ciddah about freeing the children? It might not be wise. Mason had said once that he didn’t trust this woman. Shaylinn suddenly realized just how he felt — to love someone you couldn’t trust. It was an awful feeling.

“Just some people from my village,” Shaylinn said. “Why are
you
here?”

“Because Lawten Renzor is insane. He thinks I am his lifer. And whether or not I like it, whether or not it’s true, he has claimed me as such.”

O
mar didn’t dare attack Rewl when he had the stunner pointed at Shay, so he waited and followed them into the house. And what a place! Omar’s senses were on overload as he took in the ornate decor. He tried not to look, and instead focus on Shay and Rewl and where they were going. But a painting on the wall in the hallway stopped him cold.

He’d seen this painting in one of his Old art books. It was called
Starry Night
, and it had been painted by Vincent van Gogh in 1889, one hundred and ninety-nine years ago.

How could it be here? How could it even exist still? The frame looked new, so it must be a copy, perhaps a giclee. Omar leaned close to study the strokes, but footsteps on the wooden stairs pulled him away. Shay.

He found the staircase and walked up as softly as he could, coming out into a plush hallway, marveling at yet another painting on the wall.

Just ahead, the enforcer opened the door. Shay and Rewl went inside. Omar could hear low voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Should he go in or wait? He didn’t know. The enforcer was standing
in the doorway, so until the man moved, Omar had no way around him.

Then Rewl came out and closed the door behind him. “Stand guard here until I come back.”

Rewl walked back toward Omar, so Omar turned and darted into the stairwell to wait for Rewl to pass by. But when he turned back, Rewl was coming down this staircase. Idiot! Why hadn’t he stayed up in the hallway?

He turned and crept down ahead of Rewl, as quickly and as quietly as he could manage. He crouched under the van Gogh, fighting the urge to look at it. He drew his stunner, and when Rewl appeared, he fired. Rewl collapsed in the hallway. Omar ran to his side and dragged him to the nearest open door. A small bathroom. Perfect.

He pulled Rewl inside and shut the door. Rewl’s eyes were squeezed shut, so Omar slapped his face and used one finger to push up his left eyelid.

“Hey,” Omar said. “You stole the wrong girl, you know that?”

Rewl frowned. His eyes flickered around the room, unable to find Omar’s face.

“That’s right. I’m haunting you, you traitorous maggot. So, Bender is your dad, huh? Did he kill Chord or did you do it for him?”

Rewl moaned, as if trying to speak but unable.

“You’re both pathetic. Trusting Otley for anything is insanity. He
will
betray you. It’s what he does.”

Omar looked for something to tie Rewl up with, but he couldn’t find a thing. So he stunned him again and darted back out into the hall.

At the van Gogh, he leaned close and could see the individual brushstrokes and the thickness and texture of the paint. The swirling strokes directed his gaze around the peaceful scene. The church steeple and the tree both pointed to the heavens. Man and creation worshiping their Creator, perhaps?

Or maybe pointing upstairs to Shay.

Omar crept up the stairs, knowing that the painting had been no
copy. Someone must have sought out the treasure to hang it here, in a random hallway off a kitchen. That such paintings still existed had never occurred to Omar. To think he might scavenge the world in search of masterpieces of Old.

A thrill grew in his chest at the very idea.

Four steps before he reached the top of the stairs, a blur of blue light walked by on the hallway above.

Mason.

Omar lunged up the last few steps to join his brother.

M
ason stopped in the hallway, staring at the enforcer who was leaning against the wall outside a door, looking bored. Could that be where Ciddah was? Or Kendall’s baby? So far, every other bedroom door had been open and no one had been in any of them.

Mason reached for his stunner, yet hesitated. What if that was a bathroom, and the enforcer was merely waiting for his partner? Mason might be making more trouble for himself. He would wait. Though he didn’t have much time to spare. He wished that Omar was —

Something shot past his left arm. A crackle. The enforcer seized up and slid down the wall into a heap on the floor, a stunner cartridge stuck to his chest. Mason spun around and saw the glowing blue form of his brother.

“Got him,” Omar said. “Why don’t you go say hello to your medic?”

“She might not be in there.”

“Well, that’s where Rewl took Shay,” Omar said.

Mason ran to the door and went inside. It was a bedroom, white and bright and totally empty.

Behind him, a voice whispered. “I don’t see anyone.”

Mason turned around. Ciddah stood, pressed against an
indentation in the wall beside the closet, holding a jade vase as if to slam it over the head of whoever might enter.

Behind him, Omar pulled the guard inside the room, which to Ciddah likely looked like a man sliding across the floor by himself on his back with his feet in the air. She screamed.

Mason darted forward and pressed his hand over her mouth. “Ciddah, it’s me, Mason.”

She dropped the vase and her eyes bulged, rolling in their sockets as she looked for him.

“We’re wearing suits that make us invisible,” he said.

Her eyebrows sank and her fingers felt for Mason’s hand on her mouth, then up his arm. He released her mouth. “Mason?” she whispered.

“When Omar closes the door, I’ll take off my hood.”

“Guess I’ll close the door, then, brother.” Omar dropped the guard’s feet and stepped over him. The door clicked shut. “Where is Shay? I saw her come in here.”

“Here.” Shaylinn’s voice came from the closet.

Omar darted past Mason toward the closet. Mason removed his hood.

A breath tremored past Ciddah’s lips as her eyes grew wide again and looked him up and down.

“What? You don’t like my outfit?” Mason said.

A smile chased the fear from Ciddah’s face. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Not see me? Were you afraid you’d go blind?”

She laughed, a breathy laugh, then grabbed his ears and kissed him.

Mason let the moment take him, lost in the feelings she stirred within him. If this was not real love, then Mason would never understand it.

Omar cleared his throat and Mason pulled away, though Ciddah’s fingers slid down his arm and took hold of his gloved hand. Shaylinn was holding a baby, standing beside Omar, who looked to be nothing more than a severed head, floating slightly higher than Shaylinn’s.

They were both staring at them.

“Kendall Collin said you were Lawten Renzor’s lifer.” Omar raised one eyebrow as if daring Ciddah to deny it.

Omar …
Now was not the time.

“He’s obsessed with this idea of creating an Old family. And he mentioned moving away.” Ciddah looked up into Mason’s eyes and squeezed his hand. “You don’t believe I still care for him, do you? I don’t want to go with him.” Her eyes flicked back and forth from one of Mason’s eyes to the other. “You do. Mason, no. I love you. I want to stay with you. I want my donors to come too and — ”