She took a hesitant step into the room. Several of the black windows had been set into the walls, projecting a variety of different images. Cages. Dozens of them. Not a single one of them theirs. She took a step forward and unfolded one of the blue fabric uniforms. The material was fine, supple but strong. Cerulean, the color of authority. Fearfully, she counted the row of knots down the side.

Twenty knots. Far more than any of the other Kindred she’d seen.

She must have run straight into the Warden’s personal office.

55

Cora

SHE SCRAMBLED TOWARD THE wall, but the door didn’t open. She dug in her fingernails, but it wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard she pulled. She must have broken it. She punched at the door. Screamed at it. Frantically, she waded back into the mess of belongings to try to find something to pry the door open. She grabbed one of the arm-length apparatuses, but it was hinged and merely slumped to the ground like liquid. She tossed it away and threw the lid off one of the metal boxes, but paused.

Comic books. Just as she had seen in the market. She pushed the first few aside, but none had a date. Her fingers caught on something hard, and she pulled out a worn hardback book. Her breath stilled as she recognized the faded cover.

Peter Pan and Wendy. Dog-eared halfway through.

The same copy from Cassian’s bedroom.

Her fingers curled around the book. What did it mean, finding it here? Her mind only reached one conclusion, and a frightened sound slipped out of her throat. The Warden must have found it in Cassian’s room. He must have figured out that Cassian was developing sympathies for the humans.

Had the Warden set Cassian up? Had him followed this entire time, because he knew that Cassian was no longer loyal to him?

She hugged the book tight. This explained the soldiers who’d been waiting for them to break through the fail-safe exit. The Warden must have learned of Cassian’s true loyalties and gotten the information out of him. Had he tortured Cassian? Killed him? No, surely he wouldn’t sacrifice one of his best soldiers. But he might have Cassian imprisoned somewhere, awaiting some awful fate.

She leaned on the desk as the strength leached out of her. They’d gotten Lucky. They’d probably gotten Mali and Leon too. Now it seemed they’d even gotten Cassian. She was trapped in the Warden’s own office.

There would be no escape for her. No ride home on the Mosca traders’ ship. No seeing her parents again, or Charlie, or Sadie bounding across the lawn.

She was about to slump to the floor, hugging Cassian’s book as her one last tie to Earth—to him—when footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. She jerked her head around just in time to see gloved fingers wedge through the doors and manually pry them open.

She braced to fight. Braced to hurl herself at the Warden, and at least make it difficult for them to drag her away. But as soon as she saw the figure standing on the other side, she let the book clatter to the floor in surprise.

That dent in his nose. Those dark eyes filled with concern.

Cassian.

“It’s you.” Her voice twisted with relief as she raced for the doorway. She threw her arms around him, breathing in his scent, feeling the warmth radiating from his uniform. He wore gloves, so the electric jolt of his touch was gone, but she didn’t need it to feel a spark.

“Cora.” His voice was flat. He was cloaked again, but she hadn’t forgotten that passion when he’d shown her his true self. It was there, below this mask. She waited for him to explain what was happening, but he was hesitating. And they couldn’t afford to hesitate. She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door.

“We’ll have to hurry. There were a lot of soldiers. They got Lucky, but there’s a chance that Mali and Leon got to the Mosca’s sector. We can meet them there and hide out until we can figure out how to get Lucky back. You’ll have to come with us on the Mosca ship. The Warden will never forgive you, once he finds out you betrayed him. Once we’re safely off the station we can talk about what comes next. Assuming Earth is still there, I can’t exactly take you back with me. My parents would have a heart attack if I brought you home.”

She was so anxious that she was rambling. She tugged on his hand harder, but it was like pulling on a metal dumpster, impossible to budge. She tossed him a confused look.

He seemed to be in no rush.

“Cora. There are things I must tell you.” He swallowed. “I told you before that I had made mistakes. Some very grave ones. I have not been honest with you—”

Confusion hardened like wax in her chest. She was about to ask what he meant when more footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. She froze. Cassian had no reaction other than to curl his fingers around hers, holding her hand, trying to comfort her.

Someone pried the door open again. She gasped as the Warden, Fian, filled the doorway. The cerulean suit that rippled like water. The row of knots down the side. The wrinkle between his eyes that made him always look angry.

She took a step backward, feeling Cassian’s reassuring heat behind her. Was this why Cassian was acting so strange? Had he known the Warden was on his way? His hand still clutched hers—although at this angle, it was starting to hurt. It almost felt like he was holding on to her less for comfort, and more so that she wouldn’t get away.

The Warden took a step into the room, black eyes darting between her and Cassian, and she gritted her teeth. “I swear, I’ll get out again. I figured out the exit without being psychic. I opened the doors without telekinesis. We might not be evolved, but we can still outsmart you.”

Fian studied her with mild disinterest, and then cocked his head toward Cassian.

“We have the others secured. Boy Two is in the medical chambers after sustaining a mild injury. Girl Three is already in the holding cells. Soldiers are still in pursuit of Boy Three.” His cold eyes slid to Cora. “Shall I take her to the holding cells as well?”

The room seemed to spin. Cora felt gravity pulling her like a ride at an amusement park. Why was Fian addressing Cassian with deference, when Fian was the one in charge? They were standing in Fian’s office. His uniform was right there on the counter. Cassian was merely the hired help. The jailer. Disgraced and demoted to the lowest position.

“No.” Cassian’s voice was stiff. “I will take her myself.”

“Very well, Warden.”

Warden?

The word knocked the air out of her. Her head kept spinning, spinning, spinning, like the ride was going faster. He wasn’t denying it. He wasn’t trying to fight his way out with her. Her eyes fell on the copy of Peter Pan and Wendy on the floor.




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