Page 57 of Broken Ties
Vivian stops the footage only to rewind it and press play back at the same starting point. I watch it with the same focus as the first time, as all three times I’d read her paper, like I’ll die if I look away for even a second.
She’s stunning, unshakable, and breathtakingly enraged.
Enraptured by the sight of her, I startle when Vivian finally speaks again. “Do you see the same signs as I am that we’ve missed something here? Because women usually have a high pain tolerance, sure, but that there? Are you absolutely certain she hasn’t run into trouble somewhere in her life? Look at her face, North. That’s not just a high threshold, that’s someone who knows how to block it out entirely. She has acid eating through her flesh and thorns ripping her to shreds and she’s enduring that pain without a single peep… like she’s been conditioned to do so?—”
The entire room blacks out.
Even a power outage wouldn’t cause this sort of darkness, and to his credit, Vivian doesn’t panic.
I’m doing enough of that for the two of us.
There’s no way we missed something. Nox combed through every scrap of intel. We found her working in a cafe.
But we couldn’t trace where she was before that.
Gryphon would tell me if he found out she was held by the Resistance.
But he’s made his boundaries with her clear to me.
Every reassurance I’ve told myself of her actions finds an explanation or a hole in an instant, the same thoughts that plague me every night now running rampant through my mind until my bond wakes to the sound of my sanity coming undone.
What violence stalks our Bond? What threat has come to take her from us now? Blood and pain. They must all pay for what they seek to take from us. They must all die, every Gifted who dares to look upon what is ours?—
A single, gulping gasp of air is forced past my lips and into my lungs, my head light and white stars dancing before my eyes. Hands grips my shoulders and shake me, gently at first before they grow urgent.
Then the darkness spreads to envelope me entirely along with the rest of the room, and as I lose consciousness, the last thing I see is Vivian, his hands tight on my shoulders.
NINETEEN
ATLAS
“It is the responsibility of Basell College to produce graduates who can work together to build a better world for the Gifted. Look around you now; your classmates aren’t just your friends or your academic rivals, they are your future allies in our ongoing struggles to free ourselves from the oppression of the non-Gifted and their sympathizers.”
The images on the lecture hall screen rotate through the usual depictions of violence, and it’s hard to keep the derision from my face. Political Strategies is my least favorite class, which is no easy feat. Now that I’m aware I’ve been funneled into the ‘Resistance Soldier Pipeline’, it’s impossible to ignore all of the propaganda and indoctrination I’m being fed here alongside thousands of other Gifted students.
The professor is engaging, funny, and a true believer in the cause. All of the staff here are. The utmost care has been taken in who is going to be molding the brains of the next generation of mindless soldiers.
Looking around the room as he moves on to the next explanation of how ‘unity’ is so important, I wonder how many Gifted here realize they’re already being assessed and their bright minds are the least of Basell College’s concerns. I wonderif they know that while some will be saved by their Parental Bonded Group’s reputation, the size of cheque they made on admission, or the usefulness of their Gift, most will be sent straight to Silas Davies upon graduation to be employed as cannon fodder on the frontlines.
Of course, that’s only if they make it that far.
Zariah nudges me with her elbow, tipping her head at my bag where my phone is lighting up visibly in the open front pocket, but I shrug back without ever looking her way.
It’s probably my Bond messaging me, who I won’t risk by answering while I’m surrounded like this no matter how much I want to speak with her. My own bond rumbles with discontent under my skin, but this isn’t about showing her respect, it’s about her safety. I’d never risk her like this just to appease my own desperate cravings.
The other option is that it’s my mom trying to guilt me into staying here with her. She really doesn’t get that there’s no angle she can work that would change my plans. My bags are already packed and I’m more than ready to be at my Bond’s side. If there were any way to get to her right now without rousing any suspicions, I’d already be gone. Fuck, if only she could accept that and stop putting up new obstacles for me to deal with, this hell would be over with already.
Zariah huffs and pulls out her own phone, zero concern for the lecture, and starts texting. The longer I ignore her, the more furiously her fingers move. I can’t stand the sight of her, and the fact she’s sitting next to me right now is a sign of just how desperate she’s becoming.
Apparently the public shaming on me turning her down, vocally and at every chance, isn’t enough for her to give the hell up.
Ignoring both her and Walker’s side-eye of my reactions, I try to focus on the professor’s little speech again, but his message just makes me want to puke.
“Knowing what your comrades are capable of is just as valuable as knowing your enemy.”
From the other side of Walker, Kyle scoffs under his breath, leaning over their shared desk with a smirk and a barely lowered voice. “Knowing Jeong and his lot only hold their Top Tier status because of the money they feed into the cause is definitely valuable. Wouldn’t want any of their incapable group backing you up if Draven shows up here again.”
The professor shoots him a disapproving look from the front of the hall before he taps on his laptop and the slide on the screen changes to a video. The picture is distorted and there’s no sound to it, but after a minute of what looks like signal disruption, it clears to show a dozen men covered in weapons and lightweight body armor practically strolling into the frame. I’ve seen more than enough security videos, so it doesn’t elicit a response from me, but murmurs ripple through the other students.