Age of X01 - Gameboard of the Gods (41 page)

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Authors: Richelle Mead

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BOOK: Age of X01 - Gameboard of the Gods
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And just below them was Rhea’s bench.

“It’s really there,” said Tessa, not realizing until that moment that she hadn’t been sure. It didn’t look quite as high as Rhea had led her to believe.

“Yup.”

Without further warning, Rhea jumped. She actually managed to land on the bench but couldn’t get her footing. She swore as she fell to the ground but soon stood up and gave Tessa a thumbs-up. “No broken bones.”

A reasonable part of Tessa was beginning to sober up and tell her this was a terrible idea. But Rhea had already invested in the venture, and peer pressure ran strong. Tessa jumped with similar results, hitting the bench and falling. Unlike Rhea, Tessa felt pain shoot through her
ankle as she landed ungracefully. Rhea helped her up and had that big grin on her face again.

“What should we do first?”

Shouts told them they wouldn’t be doing anything. Tessa spun around, wincing as her ankle yelled at her. Still, she was about to jump on the bench and climb out when she noticed something important.

There were no handholds on the wall. It was perfectly smooth. Her jaw dropped, and she turned to Rhea.

“You said—ahh!”

Something big slammed into her body, forcing her to the ground and knocking the wind out of her. A nearby cry suggested Rhea had met the same fate. Strong hands jerked Tessa upright. A dark figure peered down at her and sighed.

“It’s just a fucking kid,” he said.

“Mine too,” came a female voice. “So much for the world’s best security.”

“It’s not like they got into the senate itself,” said Tessa’s captor in a surprisingly light tone. He steered her forward. “Come on.”

She tried to walk but stumbled. “M-my ankle.”

“Serves you right.”

He slung his arm around her and half dragged, half carried her toward the main building. Tessa thought her heart would explode. Until then, she hadn’t believed anything could be more terrifying than that first day in the Gemman airport. Blood pounded in her ears, and she really couldn’t make any sense of her surroundings except the rapidly approaching building.

The man scanned his hand at a door and unlocked it. Light spilled out when the door opened, making Tessa squint at the dramatic change. She and Rhea were led down an empty, sterile hallway toward a large door that read SECURITY. Another hand scan gave them access, and they entered a room filled with monitors and gray uniforms. One of the soldiers looked up in surprise.

“What’s this?”

“Our perimeter was breached by highly trained assassins,” said
the man holding Tessa. He gently pushed her into an empty chair, and a moment later, Rhea sat beside her, looking as though she might pass out.

Now that her eyes had adjusted to the light, Tessa managed to get a good look at their escort. When she did, she thought she might be sick.

Prætorians.

All the larger-than-life horror stories she’d grown up with returned. These two weren’t like Mae, who joked and smiled and wore pretty clothes. Both were clad in black uniforms that made them seem like death incarnate. The man who’d held her was huge, his muscled physique apparent even under the black jacket. The woman who’d held Rhea was shorter and slimmer, but her strength was obvious. Both wore guns at their sides and possessed hard, deadly expressions.

The regular soldier who’d greeted them brought over a scanner and checked Rhea’s chip. “I’m sure your parents are going to love meeting with military police tonight. You’re lucky you’re a minor.” When he scanned Tessa, his snide look vanished. “Huh.”

“‘Huh’ what?” asked the female prætorian.

“She’s a Panamanian national.” The soldier stepped back, floored. “This is an attack on Gemman soil. She’s technically a terrorist.”

The male prætorian snorted. “She’s a kid. And she’s drunk.”

The woman moved to look at the scanner. “Is there a guardian or some contact information?” She looked over the screen, and her eyebrows rose. “Justin March.”

She and the big prætorian exchanged looks.

“Let us take her,” said the female prætorian. “We’ll deal with her.”

The soldier gaped. “You can’t! Do you know how serious this is? I have to make calls and—”

“Hector,” said the woman, her voice like ice. “Let us have her. We’ll make sure she’s dealt with.”

“How? I’ll get in trouble if I release her.”

The big prætorian pointed at Rhea. “You’ve got one. There’ll be enough drama over her, and then it’ll blow over.”

The man in gray obviously didn’t agree. “It’s trespassing on federal property.”

The three of them went back and forth, and all the while, Tessa tried not to hyperventilate. In the end, the prætorians won. They started with logic and eventually resorted to intimidation. The soldier was trembling by the time they finished and gave the prætorians a nervous salute as they led Tessa out. She shot Rhea one last desperate look, but her friend was too shocked to even notice.

The big prætorian helped her walk again but didn’t restrain her with handcuffs or anything. Considering how quickly he’d subdued her in the garden, she probably wasn’t a big security risk. They took her to other rooms, going about some other business she couldn’t follow. When two other equally terrifying prætorians showed up, they all saluted each other, and her escort received permission to leave.

She expected to board a military plane straight back to Panama, but instead, they rode the subway—which actually might have been worse. The stares she’d received on her first day in the RUNA were nothing compared to what she got now. The prætorians sat on each side of her, stiff and formidable, and Tessa hunched over, wishing she could melt into the seat. Despite the gawking, the other passengers kept their distance, and Tessa didn’t blame them. She and her companions rode in silence, which was only broken once when the man said, “You are in
so
much trouble.”

One sentence, but it was enough to make every awful scenario play through Tessa’s mind. What would happen? Deportation? Losing her visa was probably the best thing she could hope for. Even imprisonment wouldn’t be as bad as other fates they might have in store. After all, the man at the security office had said she was a terrorist. Couldn’t something like that result in execution?

By the time they reached the March house, she no longer had to worry about hyperventilating, because she practically couldn’t breathe at all.

The prætorians still flanked her as they marched up to the front door. Lights shone through the window, and some hysterical part of her wondered if she’d made curfew.

Justin opened the door and took in the sight before him with remarkable calm. “Oh. Wow.”

“Are you Justin March?” demanded the woman. When he nodded, she said, “We have a situation.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I can see that we do.”

“This girl invaded the National Gardens,” explained the male prætorian. “That’s practically an act of terrorism.”

Justin could only stare.

The woman continued on, her voice low and cool. “Because she’s a minor, we might be able to lighten her punishment.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” said the man. “Prison’s still the most likely option. But if she’s lucky, she might just serve a few years in the Miscreant Terrorist Girls’ Reform Camp.”

Justin’s eyes had been kind of dazed, but with those words, that razor-sharp focus Tessa knew so well reappeared and fixed on the prætorian. “The Miscreant Terrorist Girls’ Reform Camp?”

“Yes,” said the woman. “I’m sure you know its reputation.”

“Some girls never make it back,” said the other prætorian ominously.

Justin seemed slightly more relaxed, maybe because execution hadn’t been mentioned yet. “Well. Sacrifices have to be made for the sake of our country.”

The female prætorian nodded. “Normally, we’d detain her right away, but since you work for Internal Security, our superiors decided she’d be safe to leave in your custody.”

“Especially since you have a prætorian working with you,” added the man. “I, uh, don’t suppose she’s here right now?”

“No, she went home.”

“Ah.” The prætorian sounded disappointed. Maybe he wanted the extra level of security for Tessa. “Well, then, it’s on you to make sure she doesn’t escape.”

Justin gave Tessa a sharp look. “Oh, I assure you, she’s not going anywhere.”

“We’ll decide her fate tomorrow.” The woman made a grand gesture toward the house. “You may go now.”

Tessa hesitated and looked to Justin.

“Go,” he said.

“And get some ice for your ankle,” added the guy. For half a second, she thought she saw his lips start to twitch into a smile, but then his face was all hard lines again.

Tessa gave hasty nods and then scurried inside, afraid that they’d change their minds if she looked back.

CHAPTER 23

THE BALLAD OF MAE AND PORFIRIO

Justin listened as Tessa went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and then headed off to her room. When he heard her bedroom door close, he finally spoke to the stone-faced prætorians.

“So,” he said. “You must be friends with Mae.”

And then the most extraordinary thing happened. The terrifying prætorians started cracking up. The man actually burst into outright laughter and nearly had tears in his eyes. The woman buried her face in him and shook as she tried to keep her own laughter quiet.

“Oh,” he told her, “that was so mean. And hilarious.”

The woman was still trying not to giggle. “Really? The Miscreant Terrorist Girls’ Reform Camp?”

“It was all I could think of on the spot,” he said. “And it worked, didn’t it? Did you see her face? Poor kid.”

Justin looked between them, not entirely sure how to handle this situation. He’d accepted that his life was becoming increasingly surreal these days, but it apparently still held new and exciting ways to surprise him. “Would…you like to come in for a drink?” He remembered belatedly that alcohol was useless on prætorians, but it seemed like appropriate compensation. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but instinct told him the prætorians might have just done Tessa a huge favor.

“Sure,” said the woman. She held out her hand without hesitation. “Valeria Jardin. My friends call me Val, and you can definitely be one of my friends.” Justin often likened Mae to a lioness when she was ready to
fight. There was something feline about Val too, but of an entirely different nature. She was sleek and sensuous—but most certainly had claws of her own.

“Back off,” the man warned Val. “You heard what she said.”

“Mae?” asked Justin. “What did she say?”

“She said you were cute,” said Val.

The prætorian man rolled his eyes. “She did not. She just told you to stay away.”

“That’s practically an admission of lust from her.”

“It is not. She just doesn’t want you complicating things, Val.”

Val looked up at Justin through long lashes, a demure look in her dark eyes. “I never complicate anything,” she purred. “Not too much, at least.”

“I need that drink,” the guy prætorian said, stepping around her. “Hope you’re well stocked.”

“Extremely,” said Justin. He was still a little mystified. “I didn’t catch your name…?”

“Dag,” called the man, not elaborating on whether that was his first or last name. He was already striding toward the kitchen, with the self-assurance of one who knew he could go anywhere.

Justin showed them the liquor cabinet, which met with their approval. They grabbed two bottles each and looked at him expectantly. “Out to the patio,” he said. He took a bottle of bourbon for himself and three glasses, not that the prætorians seemed to need any vessels. “Everyone else is asleep.”

The expansive backyard patio was far away from the bedrooms, which were clustered together. Like everything else around here, it was opulent and lovely. It had a slate floor set with patina-covered furniture and a trellised cover wrapped with vines that offered protection on hot days. A fire pit sat off to the side, ready with warmth on cooler days. The whole area was ripe and ready for entertaining, but backyard parties hadn’t exactly been on Justin’s agenda recently. He never would have guessed he’d be breaking it in with two prætorians.

Both of Dag’s bottles were whiskey. He set one on the table and then immediately began drinking the other, no glass required.

“Isn’t that”—Justin groped for the right words—“kind of a waste? With the implant and everything?”

“He’s slamming the implant,” explained Val. She opened a bottle of tequila. “If he can down that bottle in a couple minutes, he’ll get a buzz. A short one, but hey, you take what you can get.” From the way she then dove into her own bottle, she was apparently “slamming” her implant as well.

This was news to Justin. “Seems like you’d mostly get alcohol poisoning.”

“Nah.” Dag paused in his drinking. He was about halfway through the bottle. “The implant will catch up. I’m just getting a head start.”

“I see.” Justin watched them continue their binge drinking and felt a little lame for sipping his own drink. He had no delusions about trying to keep up, though. He’d probably have been dead already.

They both finished and looked supremely pleased with themselves. Dag gave Val a high five. “There it is.”

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