Elite (Citizen Saga, Book 1) (19 page)

I hated Serenity. I despised it. Even while I sank into the oblivion of its embrace.

It had been ten long hours since I took it and I still wasn't free from its grasp. Reds and golds and vibrant greens were no longer flashing before my eyes, but my movements were sluggish, not rushed. Complacent.

I fucking hated this drug. I sucked in a deep breath of air as though that could blow the lingering effects out of me. Glancing around the room, I noted the padlock I'd placed on the door. Old school, but it worked. I'd been caught out before by Carla, I was determined last night to avoid that experience again.

Of course, if I'd had a bad reaction to the dose I'd have been up shit creek without a paddle. But it had been a risk I was prepared to take. Carla had been eyeing me strangely when she stormed back into the tech room.

I allowed myself a moment or two to imagine a certain other woman agreeing to be locked in here with me last night. Enjoying the psychedelic trip I'd just been on. I wouldn't have put up a fight, that's for sure. But I was thinking I'd screwed up on that front. Again.

I checked the time. Sighed. And then stumbled out of bed, feeling like my feet were dancing on clouds. More than once I felt the floor give out from under me, the clouds not as solid as my body would have liked. I blinked at my image in the mirror, noting the pupils were as big as fucking saucers and my skin had a sheen of perspiration over it.

At least I wasn't too pale. A shower had me feeling marginally better, but I was still coasting through the bedroom as though I had all the time in the world and not just a few hours until the celebration began. There was so much to plan, to get ready, and I'd spent almost half a day zoned out and chasing rainbows in the sky.

Now, I just wanted to lie back and chase that fantasy I'd been playing in my head. Or better yet, make it a reality. Suddenly, that seemed like a really good idea.

I unlocked the padlock, entered my key-code, and opened the door. To find Alan waiting on the other side.

"Where is she?" I asked, expecting him to know exactly who I was talking about. Hell, he probably shared the same fantasy as me.

"Coffee," he replied, handing over a steaming mug he'd just poured from a Thermos. "It's a triple shot. Drink it all."

"I don't want coffee. I want Lena," I declared, but found my hand wrapped around the mug and the liquid to my lips.

Alan snorted, but refilled my mug once I'd downed it, handing it back for round two. Only Alan would get this response from me. I listened to his guidance more than I did anyone else. Si could push me. Alan always made me see sense. I trusted them both implicitly.

The hall stopped spinning and Alan finally came into clearer focus.

Then my head began to throb.

"Aargh," I moaned, pushing the mug into Alan's hands desperately and grasping my hair, pulling hard. "I'd forgotten about this part."

"Another," Alan demanded, dragging a hand down from its death grip on my hair and thrusting the mug in it instead.

I grumbled through the entire cup, and then worked on keeping it all down.

"Where are we at?" I finally asked. Alan's signal that I'd surfaced from the malaise.

"The drones have doubled again as Harjeet suspected. The Palace is practically on lock-down, but the television crews have moved in. We've got your outfits and Lena has given us a run-down on areas we can use as hiding spots. That is, of course, if we can make it in. She suggested her old quarters as a good place to start. She'll head there as soon as she enters the Palace and make sure the doors on her balcony are open. Roof approach is the best, she's given us a map of the route she used to use to sneak out."

He'd said all of that, so many words, but I was still back on the fact he had called her Lena. Not Selena. But Lena.

"What did you call her?" I asked, my voice low and lethal.

Alan just smiled.

"Her alias," he said with a smug grin. "It's Lena Carr."

"How do you know this?"

"Si found her in the system. The Cardinals have still got their hooks in her Citizen disguise."

"Can he scrub it?"

Alan shrugged. "Right now it's the least of her worries."

I lifted an eyebrow in question, then felt myself alternating between the right and left, experimenting to see which one could go higher as though it was the most important thing in the world.

Alan let out an amused huff of laughter. "Fuck, Trent," he said with a chuckle. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Of course I am," I snapped back, both eyebrows firmly in place and not moving. Then I frowned. "Least of her problems?"

He could have meant the whole facing General Chew-wen and his son thing. Or he could have meant getting me into the Palace, past the Cardinals and their sPol drones. Hell, he could have meant the plan to kill the Chief Overseer. But I had the disconcerting feeling he meant something else.

"Yeah," he said, all levity leaving him. "It's like this. There's been another news report from the Chief Overseer, Chew-wen was accompanied by his son this time."

"And?" I said, voice hardening.

Alan scratched at the back of his hair. "And he said the celebration was going to be very special this time."

My fucking eyebrows moved upwards again.

"Yeah," Alan said. "No specifics, but Wang Chao standing next to him as his son and not as a Cardinal set Lena off."

"How?"

"The better question is why. And she's not elaborating at all."

"She knows something," I surmised.

"But her lips are sealed."

I looked down at the ground for a second and let a myriad of thoughts invade my mind. But none of us knew Wang Chao as well as Lena did. My guess, she knew what was in store. And as my men were about to storm the Palace alongside her, we needed her to spit it out.

"Let's have a word with the Elite," I declared and pushed off from the wall.

"Finally," Alan muttered, but I could hear the relief in his tone.

His leader was back, maybe Serenity dosed, but at least behaving like he should.

And that did not mean mooning over a fucking girl.

Carla kept sending me knowing glances. Her hair sleep messed, her shirt buttoned up off kilter, her lipstick slightly smudged. I raised a single eyebrow and returned to the blueprints I'd been working on; updating the revolutionaries' map of the Palace.

It was only when she looked away that I allowed myself to feel disappointment. And a few other emotions I wasn't prepared to identify just yet.

I had no claim to him. We were from different tiers on our social structure. And although I knew there was a mutual attraction there, I had been the one to push him away and make it clear there was no possibility of anything more.

Besides, I had bigger concerns right now.

A noise sounded out in the hallway and I looked up along with the others in the tech room to see Trent stalk inside. A quick assessment told me he was still under the influence; pupils dilated, sweat beading on his brow, his hair sticking up at odd angles. At least he didn't look like he'd spent a wild night in a woman's arms, just a Serenity enveloped one.

His eyes found me first. No one else. It should have made me feel special, but there was no warmth in his look. A rock the size of Wánměi settled in my gut. He
had
spent the night with her. He'd taken my refusal and gone elsewhere.

I was suddenly very mad.

"You'll need more coffee," I remarked, returning my attention to the map.

Two fisted hands landed on the blueprint, a short distance away on the table where I sat. He loomed over me, but I refused to look up and cower.

"Do you have something to tell me?" he asked, the room hushed, barely a movement to be seen. Just wide eyes glinting with interest. Or in the case of Carla, a sneer.

"If you appear too recently dosed up, the Cardinals at the Palace will know you're not a model Citizen," I said calmly, feeling anything but.

I could sense a current of electric power rolling off him. I suddenly realised why he'd been the one to step into Mason Waters' shoes.

"What has Wang Chao got planned for you?" he demanded in a low growl, going straight for my throat in the process.

"How should I know?" I shot back, finally leaning far enough away in my chair to be able to look up at him.

He was striking this close, this riled, this obviously full of life. Like a moth to a flame I was drawn to him, unable to look away despite wanting very much to right then.

"Oh, you know," he murmured. "And you're going to keep us in the loop so we don't walk into a trap."

"Or what?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring.

His eyes trailed over my body, momentarily distracted by the movement. I saw the moment Serenity gripped him and pulled him back in. I frowned, cocked my head and then flicked concerned eyes to Alan, who was standing silently at Trent's side.

"Is he up to this?" I asked, hearing the intake of several surprised breaths of air around the room.

"He'll be fine, Elite," Alan replied steadily, purposely using my title to show his support of Trent.

"Easy for you to say when you're not the one bringing him inside the Palace," I muttered.

"Enough!" Trent yelled and then immediately winced at the volume he'd used. "I'm right here, God damn it!"

I stood up, placing myself directly in his personal space and leaned closer. He didn't budge, which said more about the man than anything else. A truly Serenity influenced Citizen would have stepped back, avoided confrontation. There was hope for the evening yet.

"Are you?" I said softly. "Right here? Because from where I'm standing," I added, moving closer still, until my breath trickled over his lips. He licked them, but didn't pull back. "You're in a Serenity induced bubble, thinking God knows what, but
not
how to get into the Palace and achieve what needs to be done."

His hands suddenly appeared on either side of my upper arms, holding me in place as his lips brushed mine. Just briefly. Just enough for everyone to see his loss of control.

But then he spoke, and I wasn't sure if he'd lost any control at all, or was just playing me.

"It's a good fantasy," he whispered. Kissing me again. Slowly, as though he had all the time in the world. "Want me to show you how it ends?" he asked. Then winked.

A few people in the room laughed, someone cleared their throat as though uncomfortable. I had no idea what Carla was doing and right then I thought it wise not to check.

He pulled back before I could demand he release me. I'm not sure which infuriated me more. The kisses. Or the fact I hadn't fought against them.

Trent sighed. Ran a hand through his hair and then looked around the room as though seeing it was full for the first time. I got the impression he wasn't quite as in control of his actions as he made out, and somehow that soothed the sting of me being unable to fight him.

Although I had no excuse. He could blame a Serenity Tab.

His eyes landed on Carla and he scowled. But didn't say a word, instead he turned to Simon and said, "How are we placed with the codes?"

"I think I've got it sussed," the tech whiz declared.

"You just think?" Trent pushed.

"I have it sussed," he corrected. "I won't attempt it until you're in the Palace itself, in case the unlock releases them at the same time. We want to time this right when its all being televised. Harjeet's working on the codes to access the TV channel's network and be able to piggyback on their broadcast. Once we have that we're set to go."

"Good," Trent said, then turned to Damia and Zikri. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Zikri replied. "We'll go in through the roof, access the Palace itself through Lena's rooms."

I noticed Trent's frown deepen when Zikri said my name, as though he was the only one who should call me that.

"And Alan?" Trent asked, looking at the man at his side. "How will you enter?"

"I'm holding back. Too many attempting to access a fortress like that could set off alarm bells. Once the twins are inside, and Lena has Aiko and Lee Tan secured, then I'll use the distraction that's likely to cause to come in from a different angle. Confusion at that point is our best bet."

It hardly seemed like an assault. Four revolutionaries and me, the former ward of the Chief Overseer. But they'd all agreed that stealth was their best approach. It was hard to argue that fact when the drones had quadrupled and outnumbered the entire rebel base.

I let their voices roll over me as they planned the rest of the night, my mind wandering to what waited for me when I walked the vaulted halls of a place I'd once reluctantly called home. If I let my fear show the revolutionaries would notice it. I had to pull on every Elite mannerism I had to hold my head up high and not succumb to the mind-numbing knowledge that Chew-wen and his son would never let me go.

At some point, it was suggested we get dressed, and I let my body guide me back to my room blindly. I'd seen the dress Harjeet had provided, along with accessories and make-up suitable for an Elite. It was stunning and appropriate, but the cunning
D'awan
had also made sure that it was an outfit that I could move freely in, should the need to run eventuate.

I'd dressed many times for balls in the past, so doing it alone was not an issue. Often Aiko had helped me, but thinking of her aid right now would only make my mascara run.

A soft knock on the door to my room startled me out of my morbid thoughts, but unable to think of a reason to ignore it, I sucked in a fortifying breath and keyed in the lock code. The door swung open and revealed Damia, of all people. A small part of me relieved she wasn't accompanied by Carla.

"Trent suggested I help you get dressed," she announced, not looking in the remotest pleased about the idea.

"I can manage," I replied, noting she was already ensconced in black skin tight clothing, her Kevlar vest loaded with weapons and pick-locks and decoders.

"Do you have a laser pointer?" I asked, not seeing the small but useful tool in her arsenal.

"Yeah," she answered, eyeing me doubtfully. "But will the cameras be affected by it at all?"

"The ones on the floor near the actual ballroom time out after only twenty seconds," I advised.

"Damn," she breathed. "That's important shit I have to let Zikri know." She eyed me sceptically. "Why didn't you mention it before?"

I shrugged. "I only just remembered as I looked at your vest. I have one similar, but my laser is always here," I said, indicating the pocket I used for my pointer.

"I'm left handed," Damia supplied. "I place it here," she pointed to a lower pocket on the other side. "Anything else we should know?" she asked.

I pulled the door open further in invitation and went to sit on the bed, my mind trying to think of all the obstacles they'd face tonight. Damia followed me inside, the door closing quietly behind her. It was the first time I had been in the same room alone with the
Mahiah
twin. But she didn't seem aggressive right now, just eager to know she had her bases covered for the operation ahead.

"It's been a while since I've been there," I admitted. "I try to avoid the place as much as I can."

"Why?"

"You're kidding, right?" She smiled, it changed her fierce demeanour to something quite pretty. "Wang Chao can be annoying and Chew-wen can be supercilious."

"I thought that was Elite standard practice."

"No, you're wrong," I said with a soft laugh. "Elite are superior and bitchy, but always complacent. Good little model Citizens. The Chief Overseer and his Cardinal son are devoid of complacency. And, although careful to hide it, I believe neither takes their ration doses."

"And you had to, while you were there?"

"My nanny, who came with me to the Palace after my father died, tried to sneak replicas into me. She was dismissed six months after I arrived."

Damia whistled. "Wiped?"

My throat constricted, my eyes welled, but I refused to cry.

"I suspect so."

"That sucks," she offered.

"I was tested every day for one year after that, and then when the tests drew out to fortnightly, I made my first escape."

"Ballsy. How old were you?"

"Just shy of seventeen."

Another impressed whistle. "Did you replica up?"

I nodded. I'd also discovered my alias left to me by my father, along with the doctored Shiloh unit and enough cash to get me started. I had no idea what my father had planned for me. But my alias was not alone.

He'd had one too. Waiting for us. It's just that he didn't live long enough to tell me why.

"Are you ready for tonight?" she asked, relaxing on the bed as though we were good friends. I didn't believe it. I believed Damia was a good actress, but I appreciated the moment nonetheless.

"Are you?" I shot back.

She threw back her head and laughed. "It'll be a blast," she declared. "Come on, Honourable. Let's make you into a model Citizen and get this party started."

I let her help me into the dress and zip it up. She held out a knife in a thigh sheath, but we both knew it would be picked up by Cardinal guards. I had some weapons stashed at the Palace, but I was guessing drones would be at every door scanning. The chances of arming myself were going to be slim.

I was going to have to rely on my and Trent's wits. And with the way he'd looked and I'd reacted in the tech room, my confidence wasn't high on that front.

I had a sudden vivid image of just how wrong tonight could go. Of the death and blood that could accompany the fine silk dress I now wore. I looked at myself in the floor length mirror, seeing the sheen of artificial lights glint off the strapless, black fitted bodice, shimmer over the flowing white skirt. The diamantés in my high heeled shoes sparkled, matching the dots of crystals attached to my eyelashes when I blinked. Around my neck I wore an enormous solitary diamond. I had no idea how Harjeet had sourced it, but it dominated my décolletage. I glistened and twinkled like a bright star, winking bright reflections of light all around the room. My hair lay in straightened silky lengths down past my shoulders, black and white stripes complementing the black and white dress.

Any other occasion I would have appreciated the humour of Harjeet's choice. Instead I felt an ill-boding feeling settle deep within my heart. Tonight would either be the the night I died, people I cared about died, or Wánměi did instead.

It was a sobering thought.

Damia whistled, taking in the entirety of my Elite self.

"Hard to believe people live like this," she said with a surprising amount of longing in her voice. I'd looked at Damia as a warrior, a rebel, a revolutionary and nothing else. But she was a woman underneath the snarls and black clad outfits and sharp bladed knives she wore strapped to her legs.

And I knew, in that moment, that should I have the choice, I'd pick Wánměi.

And then I remembered Aiko and Tan, and I realised life was never about easy choices, or even the right ones. It was about love.