Edge of the Falls (After the Fall) (17 page)

Arjun snorts behind me, a disgusted sound.

“Fine,” Rook growls, and his voice silences more argument from us. “One week, and you’ll go back.”

I pale. I want to argue—even as furious as I am, I want to plead, beg to be allowed to stay with Arjun.

“I’m going with her,” Arjun states.

Rook glances at him, his eyebrow arching. At last, he nods. It is a reprieve, a minor one.

“We will discuss further if she will stay at the Manor or be allowed to return,” Rook says, and I make a small sound, almost painful. Rook’s gaze, when it comes to me, is almost gentle.

When it goes to Arjun, it is different—hard, unforgiving. “Work this out, Arjun.”

And then he’s gone.

Jade laughs, and it startles me, reminds me she is there. She pats my hand, and I am amazed she is still holding my arm. I wonder, if she lets go, will I fall? “Well, children, that could have gone much better.”

**

The tension makes me want to scream. I pull my hands through my hair—maybe Gali has a brush I can borrow—and try not to look at Arjun. He’s pacing the cave as I sit on my bed, and despite myself, my gaze is drawn to him, tracking his restless movement.

Merc sits in the chair, humming tunelessly. Arjun glares at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he demands.

Merc shrugs, lazily. “I think the girl could use some company,” he says, looking over at me. Something other than complacency fills his eyes, gone so fast I could think it was not there. Arjun growls at him, a low rumbling sound, and I say quickly, “I’m fine, Merc. Go.”

He does, reluctantly. I can’t help but feel thankful for the misguided desire to—what? Protect me? My gaze goes back to Arjun, who has resumed his pacing, and I wonder if sending Merc away was a good idea.

Arjun finally stops, facing the stone wall. Even from here, I can see his broad shoulders trembling with barely suppressed emotion. And then he lashes out, his fist slamming into the wall so quickly I hear rather than see it. I muffle my scream, scrambling from my bed to go to his side. He doesn’t resist as I force him to sit, and take his clenched hand in mine, makes no noise at all as I unclench his bloody fist.

The knuckles have been scraped raw, and his blood makes my skin tingle as I try to stem the flow. But his palms are shredded. I make a low noise of distress as I stare at the damage his claws have done. The force of hitting the wall has driven his claws into his palm, four deep grooves that pull to the surface in ragged lines.

He seems calm now, submitting to my care without a word—the sudden violence has released his tension and anger. I look up at him, my eyes full of tears. “Arjun,” I whisper.

He sniffs, a dismissive noise. "It's nothing. Jade will wrap it in her flower ointment and it'll heal within the week."

I stare at him, and suddenly, my anger, my sadness, even my anguish over his pain—all of it drains away leaving me empty and weak. I stumble my way to bed, and lay down, curling on my side, the thin blanket pulled up to my chin, a flimsy shield. It covers me and makes me feel less vulnerable.

Arjun stares at me. He turns in the chair, watching me with his golden eyes. Blood drips to the stone floor, the soft splatter making a quiet counterpart to our silence.

"I hate this," I say finally.

Although his gaze is already on me, it seems to focus and his eyebrows arch questioningly. "What?"

I laugh, if it can be called that. The sound is tortured, half sob, half bitter amusement. "This," I say, waving a hand between us. "This anger. You being so mad at me you hurt yourself. The silence—that was the worse part of being with Berg—the silence when I knew he was keeping something from me."

I look away, embarrassed by the tears that choke my voice, and stream down my face. Alba always says I look horrible when I cry, and somehow that makes me feel satisfied, in a small vindictive way. I am real, in this moment. Me.

"Have you ever wanted something so desperately, and known it was wrong?"

His voice is so empty it hurts. It hurts even more than his words. I open my mouth to answer, but he is already speaking. "I want to tell you something. But I need you to understand, before I do. This--it's important, Sabah."

"What is?" I whisper.

"Our future." He takes a deep breath, almost as if he is steadying himself. "I'm not supposed to speak of this. Not to anyone—Rook swore the pack to secrecy when he first told us. I could be separated from the pack for telling you about this."

"Then why tell me?" I ask. Why risk that much for a girl who will be gone within a week? The thought makes the tears fall faster. I wish he would reach for me, would hold my hand. But he's cradling his bloody hand in his lap, and I am too afraid of rejection to reach for him.

"When the Commission built their Cities, what did they use?"

I blink—of all the directions for this conversation to go, this is not the one I expect. "Um, Genesis Field was on the site of a tiny city in the midwest."

"But to protect it—to feed the Citizens? Medical supplies? Where did that all come from?"

"The military," I say immediately, frowning. Everyone knows that the Commission appropriated all military technology and goods when the Cities were founded. Closely guarded national secrets were the reason we survived.

"Exactly," he says, a strange smile turning his lips. It makes me shiver, because there is no amusement in that smile--no shadow of the boy I have come to love. "The Commission took everything the military had--to keep us safe. And, to make sure no one else built Cities outside their control."

I nod. That makes sense--the Commission has always been fanatical in its need for control and having a City sprawling and thriving without their blessing would infuriate them. And undermine their authority.

Neither was acceptable.

"Sabah," his voice is hoarse, with excitement and fear, "what if they didn't?"

"Didn't what?" I ask, stupidly. I am not following the conversation. It is too erratic, and broken.

"What if they didn't take everything? What if there was a base—two bases—they couldn't touch? And they forgot about them? What if the Shields are waiting, just waiting for someone to come along and build their own City, where everyone is free?"

The words are shocking and I shiver, looking around. People have died—and worse—for questioning the Commission. Here of all places, they know that. "There isn't," I say, honestly.

He's watching me, and I falter. Something in his eyes makes me doubt it, makes my stomach tremble and my heart speed. "Arjun," I say, licking my lips, "there isn't. Tell me."

He shakes his head. And tells me.

The base was in the south, two days south of Kerdita. Rook had found records that said it was a safe haven for the President and the government, the place they had fled. Military intelligence was housed there—and it was one of the first places hit on Longest Night.

"The nuclear waste was too toxic," Arjun says, his voice excited. "The Commission sent a team in to strip the base, but they all died from radiation poison. Scientist did readings and said it wouldn't be approachable for at least a century."

"They wouldn't forget it. They would have been there," I protest shrilly.

"It was untouched when we went,” he says, his eyes darting to mine, finally. There is a challenge in them.

"Why?" I demand. Why would the Commission ignore such a storehouse of technology and weapons? Why would they leave it there, ripe for the picking?

"We don't know," he answers. "The base is surrounded by poison wood, and a dragon has claimed the territory—it wasn't pleased when it realized we were there." His voice is almost amused as he says this, and I pale, thinking of him facing one of those frightening, mammoth beasts.

"But what did you want?" I ask, curious despite my fear and shock.

"Everything,” he says, fiercely. "The Shield technology, the medicine, the food stores—they still have food stores that are edible, can you imagine that?"

I wrinkle my nose at the thought of food that old, but push the thought aside. "But why?"

He pauses, looking at me. "We were always told we were sterilized—part of the change process."

I nod—I remember that from the stories I read on the interwebs. "It's not true,” he says flatly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, something has changed. Something in the makeup of our change--and only from some of us. But four of our females are pregnant. And Gali—she thinks she could become so."

My mind is racing, but I don't say anything--he is still speaking, "We are content to live in caves, hiding and hunting, if we are living out a sentence given to us by someone else. But—Sabah, we can't raise children here. They deserve more.
We
deserve more."

His voice is pleading with me, and I don't understand why. So I reach from under my blanket and pat his knee, gently. He jumps, startled, his eyes wide. "Of course you do. You all do," I say, gently.

"We can have it. The pack--half of them are already there. Building what we need--barracks for the enforcers, homes for mated couples, a med-tech center. A school." He pauses, shaking his head like he still can't believe it.

It's too much, and I sit up, staring at him. "What are you talking about?" I demand. "Say it, Arjun. In clear words."

He leans forward, intent, "A City—a Shielded City, Sabah, with no Quota. No Insurance. No Commission."

I shake my head. I can't believe him. It's impossible—things like this do not exist. I feel, for a moment, like we are in a story. One of Berg's stories, where the unbelievable happens. I always hated those stories—with very few exceptions, I could not understand the allure of the impossible. It was cruel, offering something unreachable.

"But—acidstorms, the dragons—you
can’t
have a City, Arjun, it's too dangerous."

I know how weak my words sound, and I bite my lip, trying to stop them. He laughs, and nods. "Yes—except we have the same protections any Commission controlled City does."

"What happens if they attack you?" I whisper, voicing a fear that makes my chest seize.

He's silent, for so long I finally look up at him, curious to see what he is thinking.

"We're disguising our Shield. Rook and one of the ban-wolves have been working on it—a way to scramble our Shield signature, so that the Commission doesn't recognize it on scans. And—," he hesitates, stopping as he stares at me with those wide gold eyes. I can see the desire to tell me, warring with loyalties that hold him back.

"Is it hidden?" I ask, carefully. I do not want to be a tool used against him, against any of them—not ever. I do not want to know the location of their secret City. I want them safe.

"Yes," he whispers. A sigh slips from me, a sigh of relief. Tears stand in my eyes, tears of happiness that they have this City, this safe-haven. And grief, that I will not see it.

"I know we’re leaving, to go to the City," he says. "I know it's our future, the best opportunity any of us will ever be given. But even knowing that, I know how hard it will be. The danger we will face—just getting there will risk so many. Jade has threatened not to go at all. And it won’t be easy, once we’re there."

I am still, waiting, wondering. Wondering what he will say next. He looks at me, and sighs. "But still, knowing that, I cannot help but want you there. Even knowing you will be safer in Mlena, or with Berg--I
want
you with me. I want this chance at life with you." He says the last fiercely, so fiercely.

I bite my lip, so hard blood fills my mouth. His nostrils flare and I lick my lips nervously—blood has always appealed to the genetic experiments. Some claim it is like sharks Before. The look in his eyes makes me wonder.

His lips are on mine before I can say anything. It’s not gentle. It's fierce, demanding, bruising. It's as strong as the water crashing over the Falls, threatening to sweep me away into a torrent of emotion and jagged hope that I am not sure I can survive. And yet—given half the chance, I throw myself on the mercy of that emotion, on that hope, and pray I will survive.

This is my choice. This man—this wild, wild creature, this dangerous life and love—emotion so pure it makes my heart race and my eyes tear. This is what I will follow.

If I am allowed the choice.

**

He falls asleep in my bed, lying curled protectively around me—on top of the blankets. I find it easy to rest in his embrace, slipping effortlessly into sleep. His words, after the kiss, haunt me.

This City is a chance built for those bred to survive—and you are so very fragile.

I cannot face that statement. I don’t want to chase the thought to its logical conclusion. So I sleep, lightly, surrounded by the knowledge that, for the moment at least, we are together. For the moment I am secure in that, in the knowledge that he loves me.

I wake when Merc slinks into the room. His bone white claws scrape the stone floor, jarring me. Arjun’s arm tightens around my waist, enough to make me wince. The ban-wolf looks at us, arching his eyebrows in amusement. “Work things out, hmm?”

I flush and Merc laughs. It’s edged with something, though, that makes my stomach twist. I nudge Arjun awake. How tired is he, that he did not wake at the first slight noise? How much, I wonder, is Rook ordering him to do?

He yawns near my ear and I shiver as he presses a kiss beneath it absently before turning his attention to Merc. “What time is it?” he asks, sleepily.

“Past time to get up,” Merc says, and Arjun sits up, tension filling him.

“What happened?” he asks, instantly alert.

I don’t want this. I want nothing but to lose myself in Arjun’s arms—not face the crisis, whatever it is.

"A storm is coming," Merc says, his eyes worried.

Fear clutches me, and we're both moving, half stumbling over each other in our haste. I shiver once, and he throws a blanket around me as we almost run from my tiny cave.

"How many are out?" Arjun demands, tersely.

"Two dozen—Ulte and Igor are in the meadow."

The sick look on Arjun's face tells me how far the meadow must be. "What do I need to do?" I demand, and both take a split second to pause, look at me.