Saven Disclosure (The Saven Series Book 2) (22 page)

I don’t sleep well. I barely sleep at all. I rise at four a.m. and do some more packing. Then I shower, shuck on some shorts and a vest top, and decide to go out for a run. I pause briefly before I set out, wondering if it’s wise. Bravado aside, I know there are reasons why Logan and Haydn are concerned for my safety. I can’t afford to be flippant. However, Dante isn’t anywhere in the vicinity, and even Logan’s lurkers won’t be camped out this early. There is probably no safer time to go out by myself than when the world is asleep. As a precaution, I write a note for Ella and Haydn advising them of my plans. At least they will know where to find me if they need to.

Dawn is approaching as I set out, and I’m awestruck by the stunning gray and purple hue creeping over the New York skyline. No longer seeing enemy alien ships only adds to the beauty. Despite what has transpired between us, I’m proud of Logan for pulling off the achievement of the century. Though I don’t know what deal was struck, the fact that he acted in the best interests of Earth proves the faith I had in him was justified. And it helps to know that the first boy I fell in love with had a good heart.

A sharp snap behind me drags me from my thoughts. I’m approaching the forested area of the park, and suddenly my decision to take a solitary early morning jog isn’t feeling like the smartest one. Inwardly, I curse my over-confidence. I glance briefly over my shoulder and nearly stumble on my feet. Four men wearing blackout combat gear are running behind me, not even remotely attempting to disguise that they are solely focused on me.

My head whips around as my legs automatically pick up pace. Footsteps accelerate behind me as my blood pressure soars to unhealthy levels. Adrenaline races through my veins while I compute options in my head. I run speedily through the forest, maneuvering out of the way of low-hanging branches and jumping over fallen logs that litter the path. I push my legs forward, testing my limits like never before. Though my limbs ache with exertion and sweat pumps out of my body, I charge ahead, fully aware that my life may depend on it. Footsteps pound the sidewalk behind me, drawing closer and closer.

“You can’t outrun us, Ms. Owens. Surrender and we’ll make it quick,” a booming voice shouts out behind me.

That sounds suspiciously life threatening, and every nerve ending is firing off alarm bells at this stage. He sounds way too close for comfort, so I incite my body to work harder. A hand fastens around my upper arm, yanking me back. I lose my balance, tumbling to the ground as I collide with a solid form in black. We tumble over and under one another for a few feet before stopping.

With the advantage of our resting position, I spring up faster than my assailant. I ram my elbow into his esophagus and wedge my foot in his groin, panting out, “Screw you.” A flash of color on his shirt pocket briefly distracts me. The red and black gold-rimmed Saven emblem almost distracts me, but the sound of advancing footsteps propels me into action.

The officer’s hand juts out as I start to run, but anticipating the move, I leap out of his way and sprint along the path. Shouts greet me from the rear, but I stay focused and sprint ahead. A shot whizzes by my head and I scream. Darting to the right, I force my way through the density of the forest, hoping to throw my assailants off course.

Snapping twigs and swishing leaves at my back confirm that the chase is still on.

I pant heavily, struggling to channel enough air into my lungs. I lash out at wayward branches as I dart through the forest, weaving in and out of trees, desperately trying to lose my assailants. Another shot whirls over my head, dangerously close to impact. I scoot to the left as another officer lunges forward, snatching at thin air, and falling over his feet. I know he won’t be down for long. More shots ring out, this time from the opposite direction, and I screech to a halt. A retaliating shot whizzes by me, and all of a sudden, I’m caught in crossfire.

I lunge to the ground like a pro.
Think! Think, Sadie, before you get yourself killed!
Glancing up, I spot a few markers on the tree overhead, and I don’t stop to overanalyze. I start to climb. Losing my footing a few times, I very nearly plummet to the ground, but I manage to hang on and scramble back up. Traded shots persist below me and I keep climbing, anxious to get as far away from whatever the hell is going on down there.

When I can go no farther, I wedge myself in flat to the edge of the tree, and not for the first time, I wish I had the power of invisibility. Risking a quick peek below, I spot my original assailants opening fire from the cover of the trees on the left. The dark-haired alien looks vaguely familiar. A much larger different group of men, dressed head to toe in silver and black jumpsuits, advances through the forest letting loose shot after shot. After a few minutes, my assailants obviously realize they are outnumbered and outmaneuvered as they hastily retreat, taking off in the direction they came from. I release a shaky breath.

“Ms. Owens,” a masculine voice calls from below. “It’s okay to come down now. We won’t harm you.” He has the strangest twang I’ve ever heard, and I instantly know he isn’t human. Crap. This can’t be good. How on earth did I get caught in the crossfire between two different alien threats?

My eyes covertly scan my surroundings, and it’s clear I’m all out of options. My best bet is to get back on solid ground and pray I can find an opportunity to flee. I figure if this lot wanted me dead that I’d already have a bullet embedded in my skull.

Slowly, I climb down, conscious of a multitude of alien eyes fixated on me. I jump the last few feet, landing solidly on my feet. Straightening up, I survey the group in front of me. An alien male steps forward, purposely lowering his weapon on the ground. I back away, instinct screaming at me to get the hell out of here. The men are all uniformly tall with angular chins and strong noses. Flashes of sunlight break through the branches, highlighting their features. A mixture of different colors glistens underneath the surface of their skin and I shrink back farther, equally terrified and mesmerized.

The alien maintains his approach, keeping his hands raised in a conciliatory gesture. A thick black strip runs down either side of his neck, and his skin radiates red and orange. “What do you want?” Squinting, I secretly scan the area, looking for the easiest escape route.

“You need to come with us. I promise you aren’t in any danger. Our instructions are to escort you, not to harm you.” His eyes target mine with ferocious determination, cluttering my head with a myriad of terrifying emotions.

Our subtle dance endures—me backing away, him advancing. “Escort me where?” I continue to step backward. A triangular opening to the left should afford me enough opportunity to sprint away. It’s the best shot I have.

“To Amara.”

Crap. They are the Amaretti? That’s it; I’ve heard enough. Spinning around, I take off faster than I’ve ever run in my life.

I’ve only run a few yards when a burning pain spears my back, debilitating me on the spot. I scream, collapsing spread-eagled on the sodden forest floor. Fire whips up and down my spine, shooting tentacles of hot, electrifying pain as my entire body twitches on the ground. I yelp at each burst of recurring agony. “It didn’t have to be like this,” the alien says, crouching down beside me. “But perhaps it’s for the best.” He places a silver device to my temple, and choking pain overpowers me.

Darkness encroaches on my vision, as my head grows heavy and cumbersome.

Then my world explodes, and I black out.

I wake up in a strange sterile silver room, completely unaware of my location, how I got here, and how long I’ve been unconscious. A throbbing pain explodes in my skull, and my body aches in places I never knew I could feel pain. Opening my eyes, I whimper.

“I can give you something for that.” A long tanned hand is extended toward me. I scream and clamber back in the bed.

“Don’t touch me!” My voice articulates my panic perfectly.

The hand retracts. “I won’t hurt you.” In a flash, it all comes back to me. This person has the same strange accent as the alien in the forest.

Very carefully, I look up, surveying my surroundings. Pain crunches in my head, making it difficult to see straight. The room is large and very warm with silver paneling on the walls and ceiling. Glancing down, I discover I’m in a large, comfortable circular-shaped bed, adorned with crisp white sheets. An enclosed room with a slender black door is off to the right, and a long, narrow couch occupies the space on the left. The rest of the surprisingly cavernous space is empty.

Locating the body that matches the voice, I stare warily at the alien girl seated on an elevated chair in front of me. My eyes sweep the length of her, noting the stiff plain white dress that reaches to her knees and the restrictive white pants that appear spray-painted on her legs. She wears practical flat ballet-style shoes. Her long, sleek black hair is combed sternly from her scalp in a low ponytail, showcasing her exquisite face. There isn’t a scrap of makeup on her skin; nonetheless, she’s stunning. Two wide glassy green eyes watch me with interest. We continue to scout each other out.

Her features are dainty, except for her lips, which are full and plump. Faint traces of yellow and gold slink under the surface of her skin, and she has the same two distinct black lines running down either side of her neck.

She’s still looking at me inquisitively, and we stare silently for another few minutes, weighing one another up. Her eyes roam over my body, but I spot nothing in her gaze that indicates any malicious intent or anything remotely resembling disgust. She seems curious more than anything. A bit like me.

Though I should be petrified, I feel remarkably calm.

I shoot her a neutral look. “Am I on Amara?”

She nods curtly. “Yes.”

“Why? Why am I here?”

She pauses considerably before replying. “You are insurance,” she says simply in her strange cadence.

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

She looks reflective. “I’m only a lowly servant. That’s all I know.” She sits all prim and proper, firmly clasping her hands in her lap.

“Do you know how long I’ll be kept here or what they plan to do with me?” I enfold my arms around my bent knees, suddenly realizing that I’m no longer wearing my clothing. I’m dressed in a plain blue top and pants that are way too big on me. My fingers rub against the material, and it’s like nothing I’ve felt before. The texture looks smooth, but it feels raised and bumpy to the touch. Lightning fast, I reach up to my neck. A relieved sigh escapes my lips as my fingers curl around the pendant Logan gifted me.

He knew what he was doing when he gave me this.

Rampant panic makes a reappearance, but I bat it down, focusing on remaining calm. I need to keep my wits about me if I’m to find a way out of this mess. And now I have options, thanks to this pendant.

The servant girl hasn’t responded to my question, so I ask it in another way. “What will happen when I’m no longer required as
insurance
?”

Uncertainty splays across her pretty face, and that doesn’t instill much confidence. A sharp twinge lances my skull, and I clutch my forehead in my hands.

“Take this. It will stop the pain.” She hands me a small red tab.

Oh hell to the no. I shake my head and scoot farther up the bed. “I’m not taking that!”

She stands slowly. “That’s your choice. I will bring you something to eat.” She leaves the room, and the door clicks shut behind her. Despite that, I scramble up and run to it, testing the handle. It’s locked and there’s no give. Circling around, I review the room again. As prison cells go, I’d imagine it’s not that bad.

I scrutinize every inch of the room, examining every corner, the ceiling and the space underneath the bed, looking for a vent or any kind of opening that might signal an escape route. But there is nothing. The room is like a large shiny metal box with only smooth clean lines. Warmth emanates from every place my hand touches.

At least I can tick freezing to death off my checklist.

A small square window rests above the space over my bed. Standing up on tiptoe, I strain my neck and peek outside. Bars made of transparent material protect the window on the outside, and I have a good viewing position of the land stretched out in front of me. The penitentiary is clearly on an elevated site, high above a large open circular space. Rows of empty seats rim the entire circumference of the flat space, built at an increasing incline, and it reminds me a little of the images I’ve seen of ancient Rome. I silently snort. It’s an alien version of the Coliseum. An impressively wide one-story building with a sleek, curved white roof faces across the way. A raised dais rests in front of this building, looking out onto the smooth, open circular space. Huge digital banners project flashing images and a stream of illegible words or letters on either side.

Focusing my eyesight farther, I can detect the telltale signs of a distant city to the northeast, and miles and miles of hilly, seemingly barren, terrain stretches out in a northwesterly direction.

The door reopens, and I flatten on the bed. The servant girl reenters carrying a tray stacked high with covered dishes. She taps her foot on the floor in front of my bed, and a table and chair rises from the ground. Neat. Placing the tray carefully on top of the table, she motions me over with an authoritative flick of her head.

Cautiously, I move off the bed and walk to where she stands. I don’t sit and she doesn’t ask me to.

She removes the covers one at a time, and my eyes span the lavish spread. There’s a plate piled high with what looks like a variety of steaming hot meats. Another plate contains a mixture of bizarre-looking fruit. A third is filled with strange-looking rectangular chunks that could most likely be compared to cheese. A bowl contains some bizarre watery khaki-green stuff that looks as appetizing as dog food. My nose twitches. She pours a glass of some weird red concoction and hands it to me. “Drink this.”

I take a step back, shaking my head. “I’m not eating or drinking anything.” For all I know, they’re trying to poison me. Not a single thing will voluntarily enter my body for however long I’m here.