Rise of Hope (6 page)

He was harsh, surly and there wasn’t a single reassuring bone in his body, so why did she suddenly feel as if she’d lost her only friend in the world? It’d always been only her, no one to rely on, no one who had her back, so she hadn’t really lost out on anything. Except it felt as if something had been wrenched out of her. She’d had a fleeting sense of trust, of connection and now it was gone. And she was alone,
again
, like she’d always been.

She took a deep steadying breath and choked back the emotions she’d become an expert at hiding. She’d always known, even as a child, not to show weakness, that it would be used against her—somehow. Besides, she’d never wanted to give them the satisfaction.

This wasn’t how she’d planned to escape and nothing had gone according to plan. At least she’d be sleeping in a soft, comfortable bed and not huddled in the woods somewhere, at the mercy of the elements. But she couldn’t have known the lengths
he’d
go to keep her. She’d underestimated that, along with the level of surveillance she’d really been under.

But it was done. She was out—at last—and rather than having to search with no real starting point for her answers, the man in front of her held the information she needed. She hoped. And she had to start somewhere.

“
Vadïm
, huh?” The word felt odd, but rolled off her tongue with a smooth familiarity that caused goose bumps to break out on her arms, startling her. It was as if she knew instinctively how to add the weird accent to the word.

Noah smiled slightly. “It’s who we are, Devon,” he stated, as if that should have been answer enough. “We’ve probably existed undetected for centuries.”

Probably?
She frowned. “But how can that be? How is that even possible? How can any of this be real?”

Something inside her reached out for the knowledge, ready to absorb it, eager to embrace it. She should have been scoffing at the very idea of a secret race of beings with special powers, rejecting completely the notion that she herself had some super ability, yet…she felt its rightness, felt it in the depths of her being, in the recesses of her soul that had been dark and empty for so long. It was inexplicable, she knew it was…but explained so much. She couldn’t dismiss what she’d seen Seth do, what she’d experienced with Micah. What she’d felt inside herself, all this time. She couldn’t.

He sighed. “All I know is that there aren’t many of us left. We’ve been scattered, driven underground. Systematically. Purposefully. Our history, our very culture deliberately destroyed. And the women, they’ve been targeted and secreted away.”

“Why?”

Noah paused. “I’m not sure.”

She didn’t know anything about this man, but he knew
something
and she needed answers, she needed to know anything and everything about what she was. And where she might finally belong.

“Don’t lie to me, please,” she whispered, her throat tight. “Just…don’t.”

She’d been in that dark void for long enough.

Noah paused. “I don’t know exactly what happened in the past or why, but the
Vadïm
began abandoning some of their children, just leaving them—hospitals, clinics, orphanages, police stations, other public places.”

“God, why?” she breathed.

“I think a parent would only leave a child under the most catastrophic of circumstances, don’t you think?”

Devon swallowed.
Maybe. Probably. But what did she know?

“He’s not my father is he? The man who raised me, who I’ve lived with all my life. He’s not my father.”

“No.” His voice hardened. “Warren Monroe is not your father.”

She let out a long, shaky sigh. She’d suspected, for so long she’d suspected, but still she’d spun stories, hopes and dreams. All she’d wanted was his attention, his approval. His love. Deep down though, she’d known. Especially as he’d become increasingly distant. “My parents,” she forced out. “My real parents, do you know…?”

“No.” His mouth tightened and he shook his head. “I’m sorry. Of the men I’ve located—
Vadïm
men—all of them were abandoned in this way, all of them grew up in institutions, all of them have no knowledge of their biological parents. It’s as if everyone simply…disappeared. The men all carry the marks and have a gift, a special ability we call a
Darce
, one they’ve kept hidden, as if they knew its existence must be protected at all costs. They have an awareness of some words of an old language, an ingrained knowledge, almost instinct, as if it couldn’t be completely eradicated, but none knew who or what they were. Until I found them.”

And convinced them.
The implication was there. Probably from the sheer force of his will.

“What about you?” she managed.

Everything was so fantastic, so unfathomable. Or it should have been. Again there was that inexplicable sense of acceptance. Whoever Noah was, whatever his intentions, she trusted him on some level she didn’t understand and she’d never trusted anything before. Or anyone.

He inclined his head. “Yes. I—I was a little older than the others.” His gaze was intense, unblinking. “I have dreams, memories I think, but nothing substantial.”

There was pain there and she shivered. Devon didn’t completely believe him, but she wasn’t willing to go there, not yet anyway. Somehow she thought this man’s dreams would be anyone else’s nightmares.

“How many?” she asked instead. “How many of these
Vadïm
are there?”

“Not all of them are here, but I’ve located nine of our
Vadïm
men, am in direct contact with them and have leads on others.”

So few.
She didn’t miss the slight emphasis on the “our” either.

“And the women, there’s—there’s no other women?”

“You’re the first we’ve been able to…reclaim.”

“Reclaim”? The first? Then that meant…

“Why is this…Assembly keeping women prisoner? Why were they keeping
me?
”

Noah’s gaze sharpened. “I believe it’s got something to do with attempting to harness your abilities.”

Until today she hadn’t known she had any such thing, couldn’t even have imagined it. Maybe that was why… Devon frowned, took a deep breath. But Monroe had known, she was sure of it. Along with all the men who came and went from the house, they’d known all along, right from the beginning what she was capable of. What had they been planning to do with her? And when? Oh God, what might they have already done to her?

She’d sensed things changing at the compound, that something had been imminent. It’s why she’d known she had to make a move when she did. She’d feared that whatever it was, she wouldn’t ever get another chance.

“And…Seth?” She stumbled over his name and felt the shudder course through her. “These markings we have, they match. What does it mean?”

“I’m sorry, Devon.” In an instant, he’d cloaked himself in the formal distance he’d worn when she first saw him. “I can’t. It’s for him to tell you and him alone.”

* * *

Devon had walked every inch of the house, had wandered into every room, had luxuriated in being able to explore at her leisure.

At the compound there had been so many off-limit areas, so much of the space restricted, that despite its size, she’d felt boxed in, claustrophobic, like the prisoner she was. She’d been confined to her quarters a lot of the time, especially at night. For her own protection, they’d said, despite how she’d pleaded, begged.
Cried.

Finding the hidden cameras had once been a game to her. Until she’d realized the implications of what they were and why they were there. After that she’d never been able to let down her guard. Not once.

Even though Noah had assured her there were none, she’d still searched her room for cameras—thoroughly—and came up empty. Either he’d told her the truth or they were a lot better at disguising them than the guards at the compound ever were.

She’d stayed away from Noah’s office, the bedrooms. Her privacy had been violated without thought, over and over. She wouldn’t do that to anyone else but she’d lost count of the number of times she’d walked passed Seth’s room.

Noah had assured her Seth’d follow his standard practice of showering and changing in one of the guest rooms before he left, “slinking away” in the dead of night. His words. But she hadn’t been able to make herself stop and knock, even hours later. Not yet, anyway.

She took a deep breath when she walked into the expanse of the spacious kitchen. Again. This was another room that had been banned at the compound. She’d been able to order whatever she’d wanted, whenever she liked, but it was one place she’d wanted to explore above all others.

She trailed her fingers against the cool granite of the counter top. And that’s when she saw him.

Devon gasped, raised a hand to her thundering heart. A man was standing against the wall, utterly still, his gaze trained on her, predatory, watchful. She must have walked right by him.

“What—what are you doing?” she managed.

“I live here.” His voice was low, flat. “I’m Christian.”

She wet her lips. Knowing who he was should have reassured her, except his dark eyes were fixed on her with a glassy sheen that chilled her to the bone. If anything, her heart beat even faster.

“Ah, I’m— I was just—”

“I know who you are. Why you’re here.”

Of course. He would. Her mouth went dry and goose bumps broke out on her skin. She couldn’t see him very well, couldn’t make out his features but knew he hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Um…”

Devon took a step backward. And then another. Between one heartbeat and the next his arm snaked out, firm fingers locking around her forearm. Her pulse jumped, her breath lodged in her throat.

“Careful,” Christian bit out. “You were going to—”

“Get—get your hands off me.”

He released her so fast she stumbled. He stepped back, eyes wide, hands raised. Devon felt the sharp jolt to her stomach, the tingle along every limb, the surge of a quiet fire throughout her entire body.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice hushed. “That’s wild. Micah said it was strong.”

She swallowed, looked down at her hands as the reality of what she could do, what she was capable of, rushed through her. The surety of it, the rightness of it. The abject fear of it. All collided, all at once. Along with the sinking feeling in her stomach—because he’d merely been trying to stop her from backing into a chair.

“Oh God, I—I’m—”

“Some advice?” Christian rasped, cutting her off. “Your ability is a tool, a very powerful tool. Don’t let anyone turn
you
into one.”

It was cryptic to say the least, but she was way too rattled to try and figure it out. Christian inclined his head, took a step backward.

“Wait. Um…Seth, do you know if…” She cleared her throat. “Is he still—”

“He hasn’t left. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he murmured.

And then he was gone, melting back into the shadows. The sinking feeling turned to an empty ache she couldn’t do anything about because
she
should have been the one to apologize.

Devon retraced her steps back up to the bedroom wing. She stopped in front of Seth’s door and just stood there like the idiot she was, the coward she was.
Again.

Dammit.

She tried, she really did, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t force herself to lift her arm and knock on his door.

She wanted—
needed
—answers. He had them, but it was last year’s hike all over again. When she’d planned to make her move, something held her back. And who knew? If Seth hadn’t come along, maybe she never would have gone through with it anyway.

* * *

“You don’t know the names of any of the men Monroe met with?”

Devon bit back her immediate reply because it might have been rude. Okay, there was a pretty good chance it would have been. Instead, she took a quick sip of the water Noah had left on the edge of his desk for her. They’d been at it for what seemed like hours. Until last night she’d slept in the same room her entire life. She hadn’t been comfortable in the strange bed and she was dead tired. It didn’t help that he kept asking the same questions. Over and over.

“No,” she forced out. “My movements around the compound were limited, especially when there were visitors on the grounds. And as I’ve said, most of the complex was restricted to me anyway.”

“You never ventured into any of those restricted areas? Ever?”

She frowned. It’d never occurred to her. Or perhaps it had and she just hadn’t wanted to know, not really. For the longest time, she’d accepted things as “normal,” although she wasn’t sure she even had a handle on what that meant, even now.

“No. I didn’t.”

He opened his mouth again, but before he could form another word, she cut him off. “Noah, I’m sorry.”

She was. So sorry. She hadn’t been able to provide a single, useful piece of information so far. She heard the frustration in his voice, saw it every time his mouth tightened, heard it every time he sighed. He’d been grilling her on the guards, their shifts, the surveillance system, the control room, access codes. She couldn’t help with any of it.

“I really don’t know anything specific about the security protocols at the compound. I don’t. I can’t draw a floor plan of the entire complex. I don’t know the full names of anyone who worked there. And no, I’ve never heard of a man called ‘The Broker.’”

When he went to say something again, she added, “Yes, I’m
sure
.”

“Okay.” Noah leaned back in his chair, his eyes steady on hers. “What about Monroe himself? What can you tell me about him?”

Oh boy.

Devon thought she’d pushed all of it to the background, had put it behind her a long time ago, but it came at her full force—a series of images, disjointed memories, a jumble of emotion she didn’t know what to do with. She still wasn’t ready to deal with it. And now wasn’t the time to start.

“He’s— I—” She took a deep breath. Facts. Noah wanted facts. “He’s a successful businessman. I believe he has holdings—”