Page 262 of Rage

“PREGNANT?”he returned with a twist of his hand.

A teary-eyed nod was his response.“JORDAN WANTS ME TO GET RID OF IT.”

The snort that left his mouth carried down the street. It was rush-hour, the worst time to be driving in Mid-Town for any and all reasons. But then, there wasn’t an hour in the day when the streets weren’t overrun by sleek black cars and Lowborns running between them, hoping for a coin or two.

“HE’S A FOOL. THE POWER HE COULD HAVE…”Liam’s hand hovered in the air, mind moving a mile a minute.“NOT MANY KNOW HOW DEEP AMINA’S TALONS HAVE SUNK. IF HE WAS SERIOUS IN TAKING THE THRONE, COMING FORTH WITH NEWS OF A CHILD WOULD MAKE HIM THE DEADLIEST HEIR THE BIRZAN DYNASTY WOULD EVER SEE.”

For a chauffeur to have known so much meant only one thing: Liam had a deeper connection with members of the Singh family.

“Interlopers changing alliances.”

Jordan’s words came to her just as Liam took a detour. He went left through an alley, the GPS on his car blinking rapidly.

RETURN TO YOUR ROUTEflashed across his screen before his steering wheel locked. Liam didn’t seem to panic, not the way Scarlett did, tensing in her seat, struggling against the seatbelt that felt more like a noose around her neck.

Whatever intercepted Liam’s car warped his screen. A static hum and a bar ran through the middle as if cracked. Only when the words started typing in real time did Scarlett realize they’d been hijacked.

“First the Tyrant and now you? Something big is happening. Make sure you stick to your allegiances, Interloper. Would hate scraping your guts off the sidewalk. - Lamb.”

But what startled Scarlett the most was Liam’s throaty laugh. One she had no idea he could make. “Ease up back there, Ms. Emerson.”

“Don’t tell me you?—"

“—were so enthralled by Josephine’s return that I turned my back on the First Heir? No. I’m not that cliche, but I do know the run-down.”

“Such as you would, Interloper.” Her eyes caught his in the rearview mirror again, this time through narrowed slits. “So, what, selling me to the highest bidder?”

His tone softened. “Jesus Christ. Of course, not. You’re my Darling and I’m your Driver. I just think you need to see what Jordan really had in store for you.”

Scarlett quieted then, thoughts running a mile a minute, gaze leaving his and easing over the screen. She allowed Liam to drive. He wasn’t the type to fill silence with menial ramblings,and they’d known each other–at least to an extent–for quite some time. Enough that he knew she would rather simmer in her thoughts and do the only thing she had a choice over: cry.

It was like that for the next thirty minutes.

From Mid-Town to Outcoast, if Scarlett had felt that Liam was delivering her to the ends of the earth, she didn’t have the energy to care anymore. At least not until she realized Outcoast was where Jordan kept his hidden trade routes. Usually, international cargo that docked on Port Nine was hauled there where a subdivision of the Birzan medicine men would conduct their screenings.

Arriving at the Slaughterhouse gave way to all her anxieties. Because this is where the Singhs would send their broken toys.

Scarlett met Liam’s gaze in the mirror. “No. Jordan wouldn’t do this. He said he wanted me to get rid of the child. I agreed?—"

“Agree or don’t agree, you’ve posed a threat. You either disobeyed the House Mistress and refused your tea, or you—Scarlett Emerson—were the only Darling with a penthouse suite that healed when she wasn’t supposed to.”

Nonetheless, it happened. One where the imposed Alteration of a woman still bore consequence. But that was the way the world worked. A man only ever held sin in their bones, and the women bore their sacrifice.

Liam pulled up alongside one of the outlying farmhouses. Under twenty miles, the motor turned quiet. The hum of the engine came to a stop, and the headlights that illuminated the grassy path layered them in darkness.

He sat back in his seat, gesturing to the cargo haul full of pregnant Dolls. Scarlett couldn’t look too long. Not when she realized some of them were only children, bare-foot and bright-eyed despite the terrible hand they’d been given.

According to Liam and the sight of the farmhouses, it was clear her time was up. Or, at least that’s what Jordan wanted.

“The First Heir lied to you.” Liam’s voice was a pin drop. It was almost lost to the howling winds that buffeted against the open windows in the back.

Scarlett set her elbow against the armrest, balancing her chin against the top of her knuckles with tears glistening in her eyes. “I loved him,” the words were merely a whisper.

“No, you didn’t.” That low, terrible voice didn’t sound so terrible today–the Jinn of Many Names. Josephine’s hands were in her pocket, her right shoulder leaned up against the back door. “Love doesn’t exist for women like you.”

Scarlett felt like she’d been slapped. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she pushed the door open with force. Josephine easily side-stepped the hit as Scarlett fumbled onto her feet, flinging her finger into the Second Heir’s face. “What do you know about love, Jinn? You, who built an empire from the bones of her enemies?—“

Josephine snorted. “‘Bones of her enemies’? What, you take enough of my brother’s dick to start talking like him? Does that make you feel powerful?”

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