Page 63

Chapter sixty-one

Katiana

“T hey made it past the ash, sir,” two Officials quietly utter, both their heads down, unable to look Xavier in the face.

Xavier watches me, and I know his patience is threadbare. He waves his hand over the wound in my stomach to check how severe it was. He’d requested it be bandaged as soon as I was dragged into his office.

My wrists are bound, his knee pressed to my thighs, keeping me planted firmly in the seat he’d forced me into. Unable to look away, I glance at the body covered up on the floor next to his desk, my stomach churning at the way the shoelaces are double laced.

Just like my Andrew ties them.

“You're telling me Katiana’s little diversion was the reason that five people were able to slip away from dozens of Officials just like that?” Xavier questions. Both men swallow nervously, unable to keep their composure.

“The Markswood boy Winnowed, sir, and we’d thought you-”

Xavier is away from me in a matter of seconds, his hand wrapped around the man's throat, forcing his neck down into his desk.

It’s not just Unfortunate and Marked blood Xavier has spilled. Anyone who got in his way was at risk. He has no side to which he truly stands loyal to.

“You thought I’d what?” Xavier questions, his hand wavering over the man's forehead, smiling as he siphons the man’s thoughts

“You thought I'd be stronger than her little boy toy,” Xavier says after a few moments. No one else would dare answer him out loud, even though it didn’t matter; it was pointless to hide anything from him.

“I didn't think-” the man begins, ready to beg for mercy.

“You did,” Xavier snaps, twisting the Official's neck, plastering on a fake pout as the man slumps to the floor.

Not daring to move a muscle, I watch the other Official begin to shake, unable to hide his trembling hands as he shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“A tragedy occurred tonight. A group of deviant, nasty Marked, utilizing their heinous gifts to disrupt the order I’ve created,” Xavier begins, mocking the irony in his statement. “I want every chip on every Official and citizen activated. As far as they know, Forest Blackburn and everyone associated with her are now public enemies. If they are spotted within our sector again or someone so much as utters her or her friend's names anywhere in New Haven, I want them brought to me immediately. As far as anyone knows, they are murderers and insurgents that threaten the sanctity of our society,” Xavier says, casually scanning his nail bed for some sign of imperfection.

The man who remains isn’t just any Official. No. Ryan was very special to the Order. This is the man who helped create the chips. As far as I know, he oversees all updates and patches to the devices, working in seclusion, guarded heavily by security at all times.

“As for the chips that remain in her companions, sir?” Ryan questions.

Xavier smiles wickedly. His legs crossed, his thumb trailing over his lip, licking clean the blood that stains his skin.

“Keep them on. I want to keep tabs on where my little Blackburn ends up,” Xavier says, his possessive claim on Forest enough to make my blood boil.

“Anything else, Commander?”

“That will be all,” Xavier says, focusing his attention back on me, dismissing Ryan with a wave.

He bows, stepping over the body of the man he’d come in with, leaving much quicker than he had arrived. As the door swings open, a gust of air billows into the office, and I recoil at the slight adjustment of the white tarp concealing the body underneath. I hold back the stifled gag that makes its way up my throat. My husband's face is ashen, all life drained from his eyes.

My heart shatters, the shards slicing my insides into shreds. My hand flies up, cupping my mouth so tightly I can feel my nails dig into the soft flesh of my cheek.

Xavier glances at Andrew, his hand waving, forcing back the tarp to reveal his body even more. I ready myself to look away, feeling my body slam back down into the chair, forced down by my thighs with Xaver’s knees. Drawing in a deep breath, he grabs my chin, forcing me to take in my husband’s lifeless body.

“Funny how easily a life can be taken, isn't it?” Xavier questions, clenching my chin tighter. “How easily it be manipulated,” he finishes, his expression filled with admiration.

“You fucking vile creature-”

“Katiana. No need for cruel language,” Xavier beckons, clamping his hand over my mouth. “I'd hate to have to kill you, too, and given your similarities to her, I know I'd find it that much more unpleasant,” he hisses, his fixation on my daughter something I don’t understand.

“What do you want with her? What did you want with us? Why murder my husband? He was like you!”

“You see, if I were able to tell you, life would be much easier for me,” he begins, touching his bruised throat. “But sadly, you ensured that wouldn’t be possible-”

“I have no idea who you are,” I plea, his eyes narrowing at the response.

“You think it's that simple?” Xavier questions, lowering his hand from my chin, his knees easing up from my legs. “If anything, I’m being lenient after what you did to my family,” Xavier says, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Your family? But you're from-”

“Beyond the ward? Yes, my family was from beyond the ward, sent here with a promise of a brighter future. Instead, we hand my sister off to you for a checkup, and next thing I know, my parents are being forced to forget she and I ever existed as they hauled off her lifeless body and locked me away to become their personal government poster child,” he hisses, my mind racing through every Expulsion I have regrettably committed.

One child sticks out to me.

The girl with the blonde curls.

“Your sister was Lily,” I recall, his face tense at saying her name out loud.

“Lily Evermoore,” I clarify, his head gently nodding.

“That was my last name before they changed it to Hayes,” he admits.

“They?” I question, his head gently shaking.

“You really don’t remember?” Xavier pushes, my eyes glancing back to my husband.

“You harassed my family and murdered my husband over a routine Expulsion carried out by a society that you now run?”

"I did not kill Andrew, Katiana.”

The lives he’s stolen mercilessly fill my head. My husband's final moments are ones I can only imagine were filled with fear. Kicking him away from me, he stumbles back, the outrage I feel taking over me.

“I don’t fucking believe you! Your word means nothing to me, you piece of shit. Look me in the eyes and know hers will always be filled with as much hate for you as mine have now-”

He grabs my hair, forcing my head back to look at him. He remains gentle in his touch, making sure not to pull too abrasively.

“Maybe you're right,” he begins, his eyes assessing me closely. “But I can promise you I will see to it that she knows-”

“That's enough, Xavier,” an unfamiliar voice bellows, his hand instinctively going around his throat, his body jolting back and into the edge of his desk.

Scanning the room rapidly, his hands claw at the new bruises forming around his skin.

An invisible force tears away at his shirt. Multiple lesions work up the Commander's front and sides. His head is craned back to stifle a silent scream. Unable to speak, I glance around with him, my eyes landing on the robed figures looming in a passageway hidden along the wall in the back of the room.

The figure in the middle stands out from the others. Unlike the gold masks the elites wear at the Lottery, this figure wears a haunting silver face covering with no distinguishable eye or mouth indentations. The voice from the figure in the center is eerie, something otherworldly. Silently, the pair next to the figure raise their heads. Their eyes are lifeless, their mouths bound by twine, and their wrists secured in shackles.

Unable to look away, I watch as the bound figures move closer to Xavier, running their long nails down his front, creating fresh cuts. Still, Xavier remains silent. His hand pounds the desk in frustration.

“You've created quite the mess, boy,” the robed figure in the silver mask mutters.

Xavier moans in pain. His torment is unbearable, the pain in his voice something I’ve never witnessed. It’s as if years of agony hide in the noises escaping from him. The ghoulish figures finally stop their assault and return to their spots next to the figure in silver.

Xavier glances down at the cuts and takes a deep breath. The figure raises a hand and waves a ring-adorned finger in front of him at Xavier.

“You've done enough. Consider me letting you have alone time with Katiana justice for your sister.”

Writhing in my seat, the figure finally looks at me, urging one of the others to pull up a chair. Moving a stool in front of me, their movements are silent.

“Don't be startled by my Paradox's appearances. They are in a state of metamorphosis, you see. The transition from Undesirable to human is not pretty,” the masked figure says. They glide across the floor to take a seat in front of me, their movements refined and graceful as they sit down.

“Undesirable?” I question.

“Shifter,” Xavier clarifies, keeping his eyes on the figure before me.

“Yes. Shifter. That is what the people in the mouse trap call the Marked needing guidance back to the light,” the figure says, barely acknowledging Xavier’s tone.

“Who the hell are you?” I question, desperately wanting to rip away the mask.

“I would keep your hands where they are, Katiana. Last time someone tried to take a look beneath this mask, it cost them more than they were willing to bargain,” the figure says, looking back at Xavier, no doubt hiding a smile beneath the silver.

“Pity you think so cruelly of me, Xavier. You’d be nothing without my guidance,” the figure says, his Paradoxes quietly awaiting his next orders.

“What do you want?” I ask, hoping at least one of my questions will be answered.

“Up until very recently, I thought what I wanted was control. Control of what lies within this ward and all that lies beyond the walls. However, given the chaos that exists beyond this ward, starting small within this society's barriers seemed more attainable. Infiltrate from the inside, spreading like roots to a tree,'' the figure says, tapping their fingers along their knee. “Given Xavier’s eagerness to serve me in efforts to repay his debt, nothing seemed more perfect. Find me my Marked, and expel the weak,” the figure continues, Xavier’s head hanging in shame.

“So what? You command a ring of Marked lunatics who have no social skills and take over society like tyrants?” I push. A hint of a smile hides in Xavier’s expression.

“I command, yes. The Marked, the Undesirables, weak-minded men and women, like those twins your children loved so dearly,” They continue, glancing back at Xavier. “Or simply weak men who need to know a little pain.”

“Power and control. It's what I wanted-”

“And I gave it to you.”

“You did, and a lot of it, might I add,” the figure says, clasping their thin hands together. “But, sadly, where I’d initially planned to kill you as a message to convince your daughter back so I may have her beneath my thumb, tutoring her like I have Xavier, it would seem things have changed, Mrs. Blackburn-” the figure begins.

“Changed?” Xavier questions. Genuine discomfort lingers in his tone.

“I don't think I stuttered ," the figure retorts, firmly clasping their hands.

“In what way have they changed?” Xavier asks, his arms crossed along his front, adding to his bulkiness.

The figure in silver snaps their fingers toward the Paradoxes. One of the haunting figures shuffles forward in their robe. The Paradox pulls out a small device from beneath the soft material of their robes. The technology is newer than anything I’ve seen. The screen illuminates, and I wait anxiously, trying to understand what it’s for.

“While your daughter's boy-toy was busy Winnowing her and her friends out of this facility, I had a few of my people linger behind to evaluate her blood sample closely. I had a feeling the data you recorded in her file would not be entirely accurate. Given the extent her father went to keep her file hidden, from even Xavier, my curiosities were piqued,” the figure says, glancing over the screen. “Do you know how many genetic variations the Marked can have, Mrs. Blackburn?”

“Five,” Xavier answers for me, his eyes narrowed. “The most gifts a single Marked has carried that we know of for certain is three, but a select few may carry four.”

“Like me,” the figure states, tapping its fingers along the screen and motioning toward the blonde.

I look over Xavier, finally piecing together the robed figure’s need to control him. Xavier’s abilities are much more extensive than anyone knew.

“Well, you didn't think I’d keep him just because of his pretty face, did you?” the figure asks, my hand trailing to my temple.

“Can you read my thoughts?”

“Better than you'd think. I can read the thoughts of anyone I have touched,” they sigh. “I've yet to meet anyone else who shares that burden of having so many coexisting gifts to pull upon as I do. It’s quite the burden,” they continue, flipping the screen around to face me.

Xavier looks at the screen, his eyes growing wider the more he reads.

“That is, until your daughter,” the robed figure finishes, my eyes looking over the information on the device's screen.

I see her picture. Five boxes surround her face, each filled to the brim in color. A bold 20% fills each box, each number adding to the 100% at the top of the screen.

“That's not possible,” Xavier begins, urgently grabbing the device. Looking over the numbers himself, his expression darkens.

“Yet the evidence is right there,” the figure says, Xavier’s head shaking.

“You said-” Xavier begins, unable to get out another word as the figure raises their hand.

“I said she could be taught when her gifts remained at a level below mine. She now holds a strength no one has seen before. That sort of power cannot walk this earth and coincide with the empire I’ve created.”

“What is she?” I ask quietly. It takes no mind reader to know just how little I want that question answered.

“She holds all of the Marked abilities,'' Xavier silently whispers, his gaze set forward into empty space.

“The Apparatus…. The fall of humanity,” the robed figure says, my eyes panning to Andrew.

So many times, he had spoken of all that she could do. He never feared who or what she was.

“Or the rise,” I whisper without thinking, my watery gaze still set on my fallen husband.

The robed figure's shoulders are back, their body rigid at what I’m insinuating. Xavier looks at me with regret. In many ways, it feels like there is so much he wants to say. But he remains silent, moving his long fingers down his neck.

“Regardless of your beliefs on what Forest’s gifts may mean, her abilities make her a liability,” the figure begins, glancing at their Paradoxes. “Which is why I must retrieve her.”

Xavier shoves me down by the shoulder when I attempt to stand. Crouching beside me, he wraps his arm around my front, holding me still.

“You’re making it worse,” he quietly whispers, holding back my head to watch the figure before me.

The figure scoffs, twirling the device in their hand.

“You won't touch my children-”

“You don't get a say, Mrs. Blackburn,” the figure starts, his tone light and full of excitement. “But you will help me find your daughter, and in return, I will not lay a single finger on your son's head,” they say as if sparing either of their lives is chivalrous.

“Once I have executed Forest-”

“Executed?”

“Did you really think she’d get to live, Xavier?” the figure questions, tapping their temple with a shake of their head. “How foolish. Even for you,” they taunt. Xavier’s nails dig into my arm at his words.

“She won't submit to you,” I begin, cut off by the sound of their menacing laugh.

“She’ll have to,” Xavier and the figure say in unison. The figure crosses its arms.

“Or else what?” I say, leaning forward with disgust. Xavier slams me down, his hold uncomfortable.

“Or else I rip our Kai’s throat and make her watch. I’ll deliver her pieces of the ones she loves and torment her until she goes insane. I suggest you close your mouth before I regret my decision to keep you alive,” Xavier snaps, a sudden shift in the way he speaks. I stay silent, looking at the nod of approval from the figure in silver.

“At least you've convinced her you meant that,” the figure says toward Xavier, circling us in small steps. “Either way, you both play a very critical role in Forest returning to me.”

“Do your plans always work?” I hiss, looking at the shambles of the office space, my hand outreached toward Andrew.

“There is no perfection without failure, Katiana,” they say, a burning thought lingering in my mind.

“Why keep me alive? Why not have me killed like you had Xavier do to my husband?” I question, feeling a shift behind me at the mention of my husband's death.

“You both have no clue how Andrew passed, do you?” the figure taunts. “That must be so very frustrating,” they continue, finally sitting at the large desk, ignoring Xavier’s scowl.

“You're alive, Mrs. Blackburn, for a reason far greater than you’d be able to comprehend.” The figure looks at Xavier with clasped hands. “Forest Blackburn will fall. You both will ensure that happens,” they finish. I see Xavier shifting again out of the corner of my eye.

“Do you question my judgment, Xavier? Have I assumed too quickly you are as neutral as you have led me to believe?”

“Forest Blackburn and her family are single-handedly the reason my life has been nothing but torture for years. If someone will drag her back here, it will be me. You may deliver the final blow, but what I do to her in the meantime is up to me. You owe me that much,” Xavier says, his tone demanding.

The figure touches their temple. Holding his ground, Xavier watches them, both hands clenched tightly.

“So much hate in that mind of yours. To think I sensed sympathy for a few fleeting moments,” the figure says, clapping Xavier’s back.

Xavier lowers his head, a bow meant to show respect.

“My fealty lies with your Order and all who have died to uphold it,” Xavier says in a tone that tells me he has said that very statement more times than he can count.

“And my reign will continue to reward your fealty until all your privileges…” the figure begins, tapping Xavier’s throat, “…are allowed to return.”

The figure holds the top of Xavier’s head. He remains bowed, his eyes plastered on the floor.

“Find my Apparatus, boy.”

He nods to the figure as he moves away. As he passes me, I drag him down to my level, our noses inches apart. I think of the moments Xavier and Forest shared when they thought no one was looking— the way he watched her move through a room.

“All of this? Was all of what you did for her because of some master scheme?”

“If I had it my way,” he whispers once more, his tone entirely foreign. “I would have slit her throat the first time I met her,” Xavier finishes, pulling away from me.

Rolling back his shoulders, he gives the room one last look, lingering on my face before pulling on his typical charming mask again and breaking orders at the first brainwashed Official he lays eyes on.

Feeling something warm between my legs, I glance down at my thighs, feeling the warmth pool as the smell of iron fills my nose. Crossing my legs, I try to hide the embarrassing stain, unsure how long it’s been since I've been able to change the underwear lining that I typically use to manage my monthly burden.

“You are still fertile?” the robed figure asks, my heart racing at the excitement that laces the question.

Without answering, I stay still, using my hands to cover what I can.

Taking a step toward me, the gleam of the silver mask is nearly blinding.

“Looks like my council has more than one thing to rejoice.”

“And what would that be?” I snap, terrified of the answer.

“With impending death lingering,” the figure says, looking over my daughter's picture once more, only to land on my husband's lifeless body. “The possibility for new life is a gift,” they finish, looking down at my shaking hands.

“I won't help you breed your delusions,” I hiss, my voice course.

They move closer to the hidden entryway.

“I'll be seeing you, Mrs. Blackburn,” the figure says, their hands deep in their robe pockets. Trailing behind the figure, the Paradoxes give me one last look, closing the door with a soft thud.

Lingering in the room's overbearing silence, I rise on shaky feet, finally allowing myself to look at Andrew fully. My legs give out the closer I get to his body. Crumpling to my knees, I join my husband’s still figure. The tears for all that I have lost finally paint my cheeks. Wrapping my arms around his cold neck, I sob into the empty cavern of his chest.

All of this loss. All of this pain.

For what?

A sliver of light spans across the floorboards, adding color to Andrew’s pale skin. Standing in the doorway, Xavier watches as I fill the space with my grief. With hazy eyes, I turned to him, my lip wobbling, my heart broken.

“What the fuck could you possibly want from me now?” I scream hatefully; his eyes just as emotionless as they were a few moments ago.

Any sign of humanity within the man left when the figure in the silver mask entered the room.

“I'm supposed to take you to your holding quarters,” Xavier begins, looking at me with a sigh.

There's a pause, my body unable to move away once he raises his hand. Grazing my cheek with his fingertips, his look of indifference melts away, replaced with a fleeting glimpse of sorrow to match my own.

“You look like her when you cry,” he whispers, a well of emotion threatening to break free from him.

He retracts his hand with a painful groan, grabbing his neck and clenching his fists as tightly as he can. Forcing his mask of apathy is back in place, any sign of emotion slips away, leaving as quickly as it came.

“I do hope she believes in God, Katiana,” Xavier begins. The mention of the old world's deity is sudden.

“Why?” I question shakily, unsure if I want the answer.

“Because God is the only one that could save her now.”

Silence blankets the room, my heart thundering in my chest.

“I’ll give you a few more moments to wallow in the grief your love has caused you,” he snaps, looking at Andrew with a nod of his head.

With that, he moves away quietly, closing the door, leaving me to process my pain in solitude and silence once more.