Page 94 of Dissent

He nodded, his frown deepening. “I can’t betray Telvia, Mara. But I can’t stand and watch you burn in the arena either.”

Moisture filled my eyes as I held my own hands against my chest. “I understand.”

He nodded again, and then looked at me, his gaze digging deep into me as his eyes glistened with fresh tears. And before I knew what was happening, I was in his arms, my face buried deep in his chest. We stood for a minute, and I tried to take in every bit of him. I inhaled deep, trying to remember the smell of his cologne as I cataloged what it felt like to be supported by his strength. Every joke he ever told me, every tease he ever bugged me with, and every comforting word he shared came dancing around in my mind. A kaleidoscope of memories, crowned by this last one. Jacob’s last act to save my life.

He pulled away from me, drawing my face into his hands. “Don’t be stupid, okay? Be smart. And for god’s sake, Mara, believe in yourself for once.”

I guess that was the funny part—I did. For once in my life, I believed in what I was about to do. I trusted it, and I knew it was the right thing, even if it meant saying goodbye to my brother…forever. Kissing my forehead, Jacob finally let me go, walking away and up the stairs.

“Jacob?” He stopped, twisting around to look at me one last time. A tear slipped down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. “Goodbye.”

He smiled, but I could tell it pained him, a mournful gesture. “Goodbye, Mara.” Then he turned away from me, walked up the stairs, and through the doorway. And, true to his word, he left the door wide open.

***

As instructed, I waited in the dark. I had nothing to tell time, but I sat quietly for what I hoped was one hour before attempting to go up the steps. Jacob had said that I could leave and no one would bother me, but I didn’t really know what he meant by that. But when I got to the top of the stairs and dared to take a peek, I realized there was no one to be seen. It must have been the middle of the night, because the house was fairly dark too, though the immediate room that led into the basement was lit.

When I lived in the Presidential Palace, we had few night staff, but we had plenty of security patrols. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that just because I wasn’t seeing anyone in these halls, that I could just walk right out of here. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself. I knew Jacob would keep his word. He would do his best to make sure that no one bothered me, but he couldn’t make everyone just disappear. I was bound to run into someone eventually, and when I did… My brain stopped to think that over for a moment before I shook my head. Better not to dwell on it. I was in no condition to fight anyone. My best bet was to slip out with no one seeing me.

I looked down both sides of the hall, left and right. The rooms at either end were dark. I mentally scanned the house, remembering its layout and trying to determine my best way out. When Chelsea and I had snuck out all those weeks ago, we had gone out of the servants’ corridors. I didn’t think that was going to work this time. And the front door seemed too obvious. Plus, the front was always lit up like a Sunday afternoon. I shook my head again. That wouldn’t work either. That left me with the only option of going out the back, through the gardens. The walkways would be lit up, but the lawns and garden beds would be dark themselves. Once I made it to the back wall, though… Ugh, I didn’t have time to worry about that. I had to move. I’d figure out the rest once I got there.

I whipped around the corner, heading right, tip-toeing as quickly as possible through the lit hallway until I was in the safety of the dark room beyond. It was one of the many parlors, and the light from the hallway caught the glitz of a few crystal candelabras, the chandelier, and the gold and brass metals that decked everything. Belinda hadfancytaste. The more bejeweled and glitzy, the better for her. I scanned the room, eyes gliding over oversized couches, shelves, and statues, until they came to rest across the room on two pocket doors I knew would take me into the next room over. Imagining myself as a cat stalking in the night, I trotted over on light feet, trying to keep the floorboards from creaking or from knocking anything over.

As I made it to the other side, my hands found the handles of the pocket doors and I dragged them away from each other. Opening them just a crack, I looked into the other room, but it was dark too, and I didn’t see anyone. I finished pulling them open and slipped through a crack just big enough for me to slide through. As my back rubbed against the edge of the door, I inhaled deeply as a fresh wave of pain took over, causing me to bite my lip to keep from calling out.

Holy cow! That freaking hurt.

I finished pulling myself through, and then paused, digging my nails into the flesh of my palms as the cringing pain slowly eased. God, that sucked. I took in a breath and urged myself to keep going. I had limited time, and I still didn’t know how I was going to make it back to the rebel camp. But I couldn’t deal with that. Right now, I had to focus on getting out of the house.

Taking a moment to orient myself, I recognized I was in one of the dining rooms, the smallest one. This one was meant for more intimate dinner parties. The long table in the center—seating for twelve—had a red table runner going down the middle, with golden candelabras and white taper candles adorning it. My eyes scanned the space, but it was empty. Across the room, another set of pocket doors stood wide open, leading into a foyer. Moving along the walls, I tip-toed across the room, keeping my focus on my destination. I was almost to the backdoor that led to the gardens.

Reaching the other side, I hugged the wall as I slowly peered into the next room. Most homes only had one foyer at the entrance. The Presidential Palace was different. Foyers were all over the place. Not only did each entrance into the home have a foyer, but the palace was so big and maze-like that hallways and rooms would connect in one spot—a foyer—which acted like a hub. From there, several hallways and rooms grew out, like the spokes of a wheel. This foyer joined the dining room to one of the living rooms, another hallway that led deeper into the house, a stairwell that took you up into the east wing, and another parlor. I needed to get into the other parlor, which was directly across from the foyer. From there, I could slip into the staff kitchen. I suspected there was a staff door leading outside from there, making it easy to take out trash and keep offensive smells from disturbing the residents of the home.

Foyers and hallways were always lit, and they were the only rooms with cameras acting as sentries. Raúl wanted the entire house wired with cameras for security, but Belinda detested the lack of privacy. God only knows what the woman did around the house that she wanted no one to see. I knew the second I was in the foyer, I’d risk being seen by someone or getting caught on camera.

I glanced up at the corner of the room. Holding my breath, I crouched low and rushed through the foyer, light on my feet again until I reached the other side. The pocket doors to this room were closed. Taking a quick look around to ensure no one was there, I found the handles in the center and pulled them apart, wider this time so as to avoid hurting myself again. I rushed through, wanting to be out of the openness of the foyer and back into the safety of the dark room beyond. Without looking, I turned back to face the doors, pushing them closed, and then resting my forehead against them. I needed a minute. The light from the foyer had thrown my night vision off, and now I couldn’t see a damn thing.

My heart thumped wildly, and I shifted my focus to steadying it. I still had to make it to the kitchen and then—

“Hold it right there.” Something cold and hard pressed up against the back of my head.

The voice was a low, whispered growl, and every part of me froze. My eyes shot open, staring at a pocket door while my skin tingled with the awareness of the individual behind me.

“Put your hands up where we can see them.” A second voice, whispered like the first, distinctly male. Blood rushed through my ears.

This was it.

Game over.

I was caught…again.And I knew this time, Belinda would not make the same mistake. My ass was going straight to a reeducation camp until judgment day arrived for me. She wouldn’t risk me escaping again. I slowly lifted my hands in the air in surrender.

This was checkmate.

49: Burning Jewels of Amber

Mybreathcaughtinmy throat as the firm, cold sensation dug harder into the base of my skull. I tipped my head forward to relieve some of the pressure.

It’s a fucking gun.

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