Hotbloods 5: Traitors

“Naya was standing there!” I gasped at the romance of it all.

Ronad shook his head, clutching his stomach as laughter erupted from the back of his throat. “No, it was Navan, standing there in a blond wig, a full face of makeup, a pair of glasses, and one of Lorela’s sundresses. He’d called at the house, pretending to be the psychiatrist that had come to survey Naya’s mental wellbeing! Somehow—and I will never know how he pulled it off—he managed to convince Jareth to let him take her away for an assessment!”

His laughter was infectious, and a giggle bubbled up inside me. “That has to be the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard!” I laughed, shoving him in the arm. “You made that up!”

“I swear it happened!” Ronad insisted, lifting his hands in surrender. “Naya was standing right behind him, safe and sound. We only had the two hours that Navan had managed to get, but it was enough just to be together again. Plus, it’s easy to forget you’re sad when your best friend is dressed in drag.”

“Did that really happen?” I chuckled, still doubtful.

“I promise, I’m not lying!”

I had no idea whether he was telling the truth or not, but he’d managed to lift me out of my pit of despair. I tried to keep that lightness with me as we flew closer and closer to the Idrax mansion. Our prison beckoned.





Chapter Twelve





The Shunter didn’t make any other stops. Whether it was because nobody had called the Shunter down to collect them, or Gianne really had stopped the elderly from leaving early and forgotten to alter the previous programming, I couldn’t be sure. The latter sounded more plausible to me, given her current mental instability—she definitely seemed determined to become a tyrant.

We reached a neighborhood I recognized. I could see the strip of parkland that bridged the gap between the street of beautiful mansions and the commercial main street, with its stores, bars, and blood banks. The Shunter set down a short distance from the cab obelisk, coming to a halt with an alarming rattle of metal and machinery. A second later, the doors opened, releasing us out into the street.

Ronad and I took off down the road at a sprint, hurtling for the Idrax house.

“How late are we?” I wheezed. It had been ages since I’d really run across an open stretch of land, and I’d never felt more unfit in all my life. Secretly, I put it down to the effects of so much space-flight, though I had no idea if that was the culprit or not.

Ronad made a face. “We’ve got a buffer of five minutes, if we’re lucky!”

As if to punctuate his point, the moment we darted through the silver archway at the bottom of the Idraxes’ garden, a shadow moved across us, and an engine thrummed overhead. We looked up in unison to see a ship descending into the driveway behind the house. We picked up speed, barreling toward the back door with every ounce of energy we had left.

I wrenched the door open and flung myself inside, with Ronad bringing up the rear, flicking off the latch and locking it before Jareth or Kaido, or whoever it was, appeared through the front door. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as I dragged myself to one of the island stools and sat down, forcing my lungs to breathe steadily. Ronad padded over to the sink and poured me a large glass of water before moving over to the fruit stash, where he set about making a platter.

I guzzled down the water like I’d been wandering the desert for days, wiping the sweat off my forehead with part of my cloak. Fear shivered through my veins—we were still wearing the cloak and the coat! I shuffled mine off as quickly as I could, gesturing wildly at Ronad. He looked down and yanked his coat off, hurrying over to grab my cloak. He’d just shoved both items into a cupboard when I heard the front door open.

Jareth walked into the kitchen a moment later. He appeared to be in a somber mood, his brow furrowed in thought. His eyes narrowed at the sight of us.

“What have you two been up to?” he asked coldly.

I looked at Ronad, who answered for us both. “We just watched the executions and came to get something to eat.”

“You’re all sweaty and breathless—what have you been doing in here?” He pulled a disgusted face that made my skin crawl and my cheeks redden.

“I did some exercise. Running up and down the stairs, that kind of thing. I was going stir-crazy in our room,” I said, covering my embarrassment.

Jareth sniffed the air like a wolf scenting prey. “No, that’s not it.”

He glanced down at my feet, and my gaze followed. There, plastered to the bottom of my shoes, faint traces of it dusted across the kitchen floor, was a layer of ash and dirt. The same clung to the bottom of Ronad’s boots. My head shot up to meet the fierce stare of Jareth Idrax, our eyes locking in anger and fear. Ronad rushed to my side, letting the knife he was holding clatter to the workbench beside me, putting himself between Jareth and me.

“YOU WENT OUTSIDE?!” Jareth roared. “Do you have any idea what kind of danger you have put us all in? You were told, time and time again, that if you set foot outside this house, you may as well be signing our death warrants!” He looked solely at Ronad the entire time he was speaking.

“Jareth, if you’d just let us—”

“Let you what, Ronad? Let you continue to destroy my family, from the inside out?” he snapped, his eyes burning with rage. “This pathetic creature doesn’t know any better, but YOU! You knew exactly what risk you were taking today!”

Without warning, Jareth grasped Ronad by the back of the neck and shoved him hard against the kitchen island, knocking the air out of him as he slammed against the solid marble surface. As Ronad struggled to get his breath back, Jareth held his head down with one hand, searching his pockets with the other, presumably looking for anything we might have taken. Stepping back empty-handed, he moved toward me, but Ronad stood in his way.

“You’re not touching her, Jareth,” he hissed.

“I want to see what you ungrateful guttersnipes have stolen from me!”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Ronad returned, seething. I flashed him a warning look, and he instantly backed down. The last thing we needed was him knowing we’d been in his lab. “Look, she doesn’t have anything of yours. The only thing we took from the house was this,” he said, striding over to the cupboard where he’d thrown the coat and cloak. He emerged, brandishing the pay device, though he hadn’t brought out the black box.

Jareth took the pay device and checked the amount, his cheeks reddening with fury. “You dare to steal money from me?”

“A few credits for two tickets, that’s all. We could have run away with all of that, and then where would you be?” Ronad challenged. “We came back, Jareth, because we’re not idiots. We were careful, and we stayed hidden.”

“You must think I am the idiot,” Jareth said, sneering and turning to me. “Riley, take off your clothes. Ronad, you do the same. I want to see what else you’re hiding.”

I looked from Ronad to Jareth, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment again. “I’m not going to do that, Jareth.” I could feel the small chunk of opaleine in my pocket that Cambien had given to me and knew how it would look to Jareth. He’d call me a thief, and I couldn’t allow him to confiscate it.

Jareth’s eyes narrowed. “Either you do it willingly, or I will do it for you.”

“I am not your slave, or your pet, to order around as you please!” I spat back.

He looked amused, taking a step closer to me. Ronad tried to intervene, but Jareth shoved him roughly to the side. “Remove your clothes, now!”

I lunged for the knife that Ronad had dropped, and tossed it skillfully from hand to hand, doing tricks I’d learned in training. Jareth froze. “If you touch me, I will throw this. You don’t want to find out just how good my aim is.”