The Cage (The Cage 1)
Page 41He reached for her, but she jerked away. The petals underfoot felt slick now. Sticky. The branches tangled in her hair like they were trying to trap her. She shoved them away. “You were pretending you wanted to go home?”
A shaft of light broke through the flowers to land on his face. His eyes were still coffee brown, not black. “Of course I wanted to go home—especially the first few days. I just never believed we actually could. I couldn’t bear to tell you how I felt. It would have broken your heart.”
“And now you suddenly decide to confess everything? Why, because the rain made you feel nostalgic?”
“Because we’re running out of time. Twenty-one days is coming fast. We’re going to have to . . . sleep together. And before that, I wanted you to know the truth.”
“Oh, thanks!” Her voice was laced with venom. “So I not only have to sleep with a guy I barely know, but he also happens to be the one who sent me to juvenile detention.”
“Dammit.” He was fighting not to raise his voice. “You think I want it to be like this? I want to be back home with an old man and his chickens. I want to visit my mom’s grave one more time. I want to meet you there, back home, and I want to show you the sky in Montana, teach you the constellations. But this is our home now. The others already know it. It’s time we grow up and admit it too.” He stopped abruptly. His words echoed in the quiet space beneath the tree. His eyes had gone dark again. Night must have fallen outside, or else the world only felt darker. “At least we care about each other. And I do care, Cora. I don’t think I’ve ever cared about a person more in my entire life.”
He reached for her, but she jerked back.
“Tell me one thing. Do you believe that I didn’t steal the food?”
He was quiet, his eyes shadowed in black. “If you did, I don’t care. I’m on your side.”
Cora pulled back, ripping the fabric that bound them. Her plan seemed so childish now, using sharpened toys as weapons and fighting their way out—to what? How did she ever think she could make her way home, when she didn’t even know where she was? And yet a force within her came screaming back up.
She stumbled away from him, tearing through the branches that pulled at her like a thousand clutching fingers. Lucky called for her, but she kept running, faster than she ever had, tearing past Nok and Mali, who were dancing in the rain, past Rolf, who was plucking unsuccessfully at the guitar
Not even Lucky was on her side anymore.
29
Leon
NIGHT FELL ALL AT once. The rain stopped abruptly, lingering in puddles on the boardwalk. Leon crouched behind a bush and spied on the cherry tree. He’d seen Lucky and Cora disappear beneath its branches, and he could guess what was going on in there. Another couple forming according to those dots on their necks. First Nok and Rolf. Now Cora and Lucky. Didn’t any of them have an ounce of self-restraint?
“Animals,” he grunted. He stood up and sauntered back toward town. The lights were off in the shops and the house—the others must have gone to bed. The rain had soaked his clothes, but he’d long ago stopped caring. His dress shirt was worn and stained, rolled to his elbows and undone at the neck. The suit pants were caked in mud from crawling through the jungle. He climbed the stairs to the diner and tugged at the door—his stomach howled for food—but it was locked.
“Here.” He turned just in time to catch an apple flying his way. Mali stood in the shadows, her face unreadable beneath the long braids. “There is no food today. Only empty trays except for Cora’s. I find this on the farm.”
His stomach howled louder. What shifty game was Cora playing at, stealing all the food?
He took a hefty bite of the apple. “Cheers. Now if you don’t mind, bugger off.” He started down the steps past her. She so unnerved him, with those shockingly light brown eyes, that permanent scowl. Her hand shot out as he passed, clamping on to his bare forearm.
“Not any of your business, is it, kid?”
Her hand fell away, but that cold stare kept him prisoner. She was like a walking ghost, haunting him.
Ghosts. He flinched as a shadow seemed to pass through him. He whirled toward the ocean, breathing hard. The feeling of eyes on his back. A presence that wasn’t quite human. It had started the first day; he’d thought it was the Kindred watching behind the panels, but now he sensed it was something else.
Someone else.
Mali’s eyes flickered to the cherry tree. “Cora and Lucky kiss behind those branches. They will soon obey the third rule.”
Leon snapped out of his daze.
“You really are a little spy, aren’t you?” He ignored the fact that he’d been spying as well. “Well, don’t worry about those two. Cora looks sweet, but trust me, that girl’s got a dark streak. She’s not obeying a thing. And Lucky won’t either, as long as she tells him not to.”
“They have no choice. The twenty-one day mark approaches.” She took a step to her left, head shifting like a snake. “They must obey. We all must.” Her hand snaked out to grab him, and he slapped it away.
“Hands off. Don’t get any ideas about you and me.”
“What’s the Warden going to do, get his Caretaker to lock me up? Joke’s on them. It was only a matter of time before I was behind bars back on Earth anyway. Here’s a piece of advice: stay away from me. I’m not a good person.”
A vision flashed in his head of a girl with green eyes and a heart-shaped scar on her chin. A headache tore through his scalp. She’d been the first thing he’d seen when he woke. He’d been on the boardwalk, head throbbing and vision blurry, and a beautiful Middle Eastern girl leaning over him with the most shocking green eyes.
“I’m Yasmine,” she’d said. “I don’t know where I am. . . .”
Mali tapped his forehead, jerking him back to the present. “The Kindred do not take bad persons.”
Sweat poured down his forehead. He wiped it away, trying not to think of the girl with the heart-shaped scar. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
“Yes I do. Cassian lets me watch you before putting me here.”
Leon froze. His heart started thumping extra hard. He turned on her slowly. “What exactly did you see?”