Chase You To The Sun (5 page)

Lana followed a narrow path meandering between the trees, leading to a clearing with a small pond surrounded by what looked like orange trees. The orange fruits dangling from the branches looked so ripe and inviting that she didn’t have to think twice. With a boyish grin on her face, she climbed the nearest tree and picked as many of the small oranges as she could hold in one hand.

Picking her own food tasted of freedom. In Novi Moscow, the fruit orchards were in a separate section of the dome, only accessible to land owners and the laborers working the land, of course. The last time Lana had seen a fruit tree in the wild had been at age twelve, the final year she’d been on summer camp with Tori. After that summer, the high demands of the Lyceum she’d attended had taken up most of her time.

Once back on the ground, Lana tucked an orange in each palm, peeling the third one to eat immediately. The fruit was actually more like a tangerine, tasting slightly sour. What kind of climate did trees like these thrive in? She had to be fairly south, but not too close to the equator – maybe in Canada or Upper Great Germany. For all she knew, she might even be in Old Russia. She really needed to take a look at the stars tonight.

When she retraced her steps to the chestnut tree where she’d left her phone, Lana spotted a Solar hovering along the concrete path leading up to the house. Looked like the gang was back. Her heart skipped a beat when the car slowed down and then halted. Bruce got off, his eyes fixed on her. His tall, muscular frame seemed to darken the lawn otherwise bathing in sunlight. From his stride, it was easy to tell he wasn’t happy to find her here.

When Bruce came to a halt in front of her, his dark gaze touched on the half-eaten orange in her hand before riveting on her face. “Who told you you could leave the house?” he inquired gruffly.

Lana hesitantly took a step back, trying to obscure her phone from view. Whatever happened, she couldn’t let him discover the device. “There was nobody around to tell me otherwise,” she replied as boldly as she dared. “And I was hungry.”

“We have a kitchen,” he said drily.

“Yeah, I – I know.”

“You do, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Smart girl. Not smart enough to stay inside, though.” He reached out and grabbed her upper arm.

Oh, no. He couldn’t take her inside yet – not without that damn phone. “I’m sorry,” Lana quickly went on. “It’s just that – well, you showed me the garden, and I like being outside. I haven’t picked my own fruit for so long. I thought it’d be okay.” She looked down, fluttering her eyelashes just a little. If she played innocent, he might leave her alone.

Bruce exhaled with a little snort. “You like picking your own food? You’ll be telling me you like eating black bread with your servants in the kitchen next.”

Lana looked up with a frown. “I do, but I guess you wouldn’t believe that.”

He gauged her with his slate-gray eyes full of fire. “Well, if you’re really that common-minded, Miss Ivanova,” he said sardonically, “maybe you should do as the commoners do and share your food.”

“You – you want one of my oranges?” she stuttered.

“Well, technically they’re
my
oranges, but yes,” Bruce nodded, shooting her a crooked little grin. “I bet they’re juicy. And sweet.”

Lana couldn’t help but blush at his suggestive tone. Was he doing it on purpose? “They’re a bit – sour, actually,” she stuttered, handing him one of the small fruits. “But they’re good.”

Bruce took a step toward the chestnut tree and pulled her down with him. “Let’s sit and talk,” he said, offering more of a peremptory command than a suggestion. Lana hastily obliged, planting her butt down in the grass right next to her smart phone. Her heart was beating so fast it made her head spin. As Bruce started to peel his orange, she carefully leaned back on her hands, using one of them to slip the phone into her back pocket inch by inch, so slowly that he couldn’t possibly see what she was doing – or so she hoped. The thing wasn’t fully charged yet, but she’d take the risk of running out of battery. She only wanted to talk to Tori for a few minutes. Reassuring her friends and hearing a pleasant voice for a change was all she needed for now.

“What do you want to talk about?” she softly asked.

“The rules,” Bruce replied calmly, popping an orange part into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

“House rules?”

“That’s right, Lana.”

“I guess the garden’s off-limits then?” she surmised timidly.

Bruce stared at her for a few seconds, his gaze inscrutable. “You look crestfallen.”

Lana shook her head. “I’ll do anything you say, Bruce.” His name felt strange on her tongue. “I like being outside, but if you have a problem with that, I’ll stay in my room.”

He narrowed his eyes in thought. “You can come here in the afternoons, but John will accompany you and keep an eye on you at all times.”

Lana felt the blood drain from her face. “Forget it,” she whispered. She’d rather stay inside and never feel the sun on her skin again than go outside and be raped in the woods.

A look of puzzlement crossed Bruce’s face as he observed her more intensely. “You don’t trust him,” he established.

“No, I don’t,” she mumbled. “He’s dangerous.”

“And yet you’re out here with me.”

Lana shrugged. “Well – you cornered me, you stole my lunch and you ordered me to sit down with you. I didn’t have a choice.”

A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “True. Don’t trust me either, do you?”

“No,” she replied.

He slowly nodded. “Good.”

To her surprise, Lana realized she wasn’t being completely honest. Bruce terrified her, but she did trust him more than John. Probably because he hadn’t tried to take advantage of her, even though they’d been alone in her bedroom together and it had been painfully obvious she was interested in him sexually.

“So, no garden visits,” she summarized. “Can I go anywhere I want within the house?”

“With the exception of the computer room.”

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.” Lana directed her gaze toward the flowers growing in the grass all around her feet, shifting a little bit so she could push the smart phone all the way down into her pocket. This was insane. She was having a sort-of-picnic in a meadow full of flowers with her father’s sworn enemy. And she still had no idea what he wanted from her.

“Bruce?” she said, gathering courage. “Can you please tell me why I’m here?”

He shot her one of his characteristic, piercing looks. “You’re my leverage,” he replied unhelpfully.

Lana swallowed. “Look, I want to know what you meant when you referred to the kind of business my father is in,” she continued. Enough with the vagueness – if this man had something against the entire Ivanov family, she had a right to know why. If he insisted on keeping up his whole holier-than-thou act, the least he could do was explain to her why he thought he had the right to abduct her and blackmail her father.

He scoffed slightly. “I don’t think you want to know. But you
need
to know.”

“Then tell me.”

Bruce took in her face, seemingly searching it for the slightest hint of deception in the set of her mouth or the light in her eyes. “You really don’t know,” he said at last, tossing the orange peel in his hands over his shoulder and looking past her across the fields for a few moments. “Do you know what kind of people work in the Ivanov Mines, Svetlana?”

“Russian workers, I guess.”

He slowly shook his head, training his gaze on her again. “I’m afraid not. Laborers wanting to spend their entire lives in darkness are pretty hard to come by these days, even if there are plenty of people desperate enough to swap their battered country on Earth for an icy moon on the edge of the solar system. Besides, laborers want to get
paid
.”

Lana blinked at him in bewilderment. “What do you mean?”

“Ivanov Mining Industries employ slaves.”

“
Slaves
?” Her voice shot up an entire octave. “Of course they don’t. Slavery is a thing of the past. Something that happened before the Doomsday Disasters.”

“That’s what they’d like you to believe,” Bruce said, an edge to his voice.

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The Elite economists. The people who are aware that our monetary system largely depends on the mining and steady supply of Promethean gemstones.”

Lana sat back, staring at Bruce incredulously. He couldn’t seriously believe she was going to fall for this. Her dad would never allow such a thing. This villain was just trying to confuse her. He was lying in order to get her on his side, for some reason. “That can’t be. I don’t believe you,” she protested.

A shadow crossed his face. “Well, you wouldn’t be the first,” he replied quietly.

“Nobody can get away with something like that,” Lana rushed on. “The Desidan Alliance would find out. Where do these slaves supposedly come from?”

“Amalthea.”

She paused, swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat. “My – my mom was killed by Amalthean rebels.”

“Yeah. Why do you think that happened?”

She fell silent. “I don’t know. We never found out why they did it.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “You mean
you
never found out. Let me tell you, your father knows perfectly well why.”

Doubt started to nag at her. She had always thought it peculiar how none of her father’s detectives had ever managed to find out more about the rebels’ motives – or why her mom had been a target. Lana bit back tears as she stared at Bruce, a sudden suspicion striking her like lightning. “Did
you
have her killed?” she whispered. “Were they working for you?”

“No.” His gaze softened. “Your mother was a good person. That shouldn’t have happened to her.”

It was all too much. This whole story didn’t make any sense. Why should she trust this man? “I want to talk to my dad,” she blurted out. “Today.”

“And you’ll get your wish,” Bruce said calmly. “I sent him those lovely pictures of you lying on your bed staring up at me like a deer trapped in headlights. He insisted on talking to you in person tonight, so John’s setting up a secure channel as we speak.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a lopsided, private smile. “Maybe daddy thought you were looking a bit too willing in those photos.”

Lana flushed crimson with shame. “Just... leave me alone,” she said hotly.

He raised an eyebrow. “I did.”

Shit, he was right. “I still don’t trust you,” she added.

“
Good
,” Bruce said brusquely. He jumped to his feet in one gracious movement and hauled her up by her arm. “Back to the house. Now.”

Fortunately, he was so focused on man-handling her down the fields and through the patio doors that he missed the slight lump in the back pocket of her jeans.

O
nce inside, Lana fled upstairs to lock herself in her room. Lying down on the bed, she dug up the smart phone with trembling hands. The battery was charged up to sixty percent – good, because she didn’t think she’d be going back outside in the next few days. Not with John as her faithful shadow. She’d rather go on another picnic with Bruce, and that was saying a lot.

His words wouldn’t stop milling around in her head. If Bruce was right – if there was indeed something fishy about the way her father was running his business – didn’t that make the pirate more of a people’s hero than a criminal? At least, Lana assumed he was trying to force her dad to improve working conditions on Prometheus by keeping her prisoner. Then again, he wasn’t stealing all those tons of tourmaline and emerald just to thwart Ivanov Mining Industries. Maybe he was just screwing with her mind, portraying himself as some kind of modern-day Robin Hood who stole from the rich and gave back to the poor, when he was anything but. After all, he had the whole dangerous rogue thing down to a tee. He’d even told her
himself
that he was not a very nice guy.

Then why did it feel like something about his image didn’t quite add up?

She simply had to talk to her dad. He’d clear things up. He’d tell her how utterly ridiculous Bruce’s story was, and she’d be able to let go of any doubts she might harbor now. No matter how long Bruce Randall intended to keep her prisoner, she wouldn’t lose faith in her father’s morality.

Lana let out a sigh of relief when the phone softly bleeped to indicate it had managed to pick up a network. It was a shame the display didn’t show her which network it was – the security worked two ways, unfortunately – but at least she’d be able to talk to her friend. Everything would be all right. When she clicked on her contacts, seeing
mama
at the top of the very short list momentarily choked her up. What had really happened to her mom? She’d have to ask her dad about that, too.

Her index finger landed on the touch screen, tapping the next name on the list:
Vitusya
. As the phone rang on the other end of the line, Lana nervously chewed her thumbnail. What if Tori had never made it to Earth? What if John hadn’t just stunned Alen and Tori but the blast had killed them altogether?

“Hello?” a voice finally answered after eight rings, cutting her gloomy thoughts short. “
Wer ist da
?”

“It’s me. Svetlana,” she replied as quietly as she could.

“Oh my God, Lana!” Tori exclaimed. “Where are you? What happened to you?”

“I’m in some kind of mansion. It’s on Earth, but that’s about all I know. Are you guys all right?”

“Yes, we are, don’t worry about us,” her friend quickly dismissed her concern. “How are you? And how the
hell
is it that you still have a phone?”

“When they strip-searched me, they took my pad, but they didn’t turn my suitcase inside out. Turns out my old summer camp smart phone was still in there.”

“We’re going to help you,” Tori said, her voice urgent. “Hold on, Alen wants to talk to you.”

“Svetlana,” Alen’s calm voice piped up from the speaker. “Tell me as much as you can about your environment. Anything at all that will help me pinpoint your location.”

“It’s in a rural area, in a warm climate that allows for orange trees to grow in the wild,” Lana summed up. “That’s all I know, really.”