28
Armed Enforcers surround the Agriculture Center and as we get closer, Rykers’s posture becomes more rigid, his stride more brisk. He’s supposed to be accompanying me on official consort business, but he’s shifted into Enforcer mode.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at him and the hair on my arms pricks up. His almond-shaped eyes hold no emotion. They’re dark, cold, and lethal.
He’s no longer Ryker, my friend, but rather Ryker, the assassin.
“Is everything okay?” he asks in a monotone voice. He keeps his head up, sweeping his gaze from side-to-side.
“You’re not here as my consort, are you?” I mutter so no one else can hear.
“Not here, Lark.” He says this softly, almost like a whisper, but there’s a sharpness in his voice, and it sends chills through me.
As we approach the Ag Center checkpoint, my guards tighten their circle around me until I can barely take a step without bumping into one of them. Ryker strides up to the front and flashes his wristlet at the Enforcer guarding the entrance.
The man’s wristlet beeps three times. He swings his attention away from Ryker, to me, and back to Ryker. “Enforcer Newbold, you’re not on duty.”
“I’m traveling with Lark,” Ryker responds, grasping the man’s forearm in greeting. “Per her mother’s instruction.”
“That’s wise.” The Enforcer begins scanning my other guard’s wristlets. When he gets to me, he doesn’t make contact, but I notice the way his hand trembles. Something about me, or us being here, upsets him.
Once he motions us through, we hurry down a stark white hallway until we’re spit out into a massive greenhouse. It’s easily four hundred yards in circumference. Alternate plots of dirt lay fallow and the ones that are producing look anemic. This can’t possibly be all the food the State is producing?
A man rushes toward us with a tablet in hand. “Annalise? I’m Crispin Salter, Head of the Ag Center.”
Both Dawson and Ryker step in front of me, and I roll my eyes. “Surely inside a State building there is no threat,” I chide.
Dawson keeps his posture rigid. “There is threat everywhere. Especially in a greenhouse full of Light witches.”
I recoil. It’s the harshest he’s spoken to me since I foolishly rushed into the battle with the Splinter group. Heat works its way up my neck and into my face. Like a chastised schoolgirl, I stare at the ground.
Oliver paces the perimeter of the closest field. He motions to Ryker, and my mate jogs off after him. My guard juts his chin toward something in the rafters. Ryker tilts his head in consideration before disappearing.
When I look up to where Oliver indicated, Ryker’s crawling across ceiling beams.
“What’s he doing?” I ask no one in particular.
Kyra says. “Assessing the area for snipers.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
Ryker swings from one rafter to the next, and even from here, I can see the bulge of his arm muscles through his skin-tight shirt. He kicks his feet up and lands on a platform.
Once he’s steady, a short series of whistles wafts down to us.
“It’s secure,” Kyra says.
“And you know that because he whistled?”
She huffs. “In the field we rely on verbal cues first and technology second.”
“He’s looking for snipers?” I repeat, more to myself than anyone else. It seems ridiculous, and yet, I know it’s necessary.
“Lark,” Annalise calls from where she stands with Crispin Salter. “You’re to work with him today.”
Crispin clenches his jaw. “I have a name.” He walks over to me and stiffly offers his hand. “A pleasure. Henry’s told me much about you.”
“Oh? You know Henry?” I try to not let my surprise show, but fail.
“Henry frequently visits.” Crispin’s face pulls into a stiff, unnatural smile. “Although I haven’t seen him in several weeks.”
I stare off at the empty fields. A few workers take measurements and push carts of farming supplies, but it’s hardly the active hub I imagined. “Henry’s at my mother’s. His friend Eloise was injured and is convalescing there.”
“Are her injuries serious?” There’s a hint of panic in Crispin’s voice.
“Not anymore.”
He points out at the vast interior. “Shall we?”
I wait for my guards to give permission. Ryker has come down from the rafters and stands near Annalise and Oliver where the three of them study a tablet Annalise holds. I clear my throat and their heads pivot in unison. “Can I go to work?”
“The area is secure. Ping if you need anything,” Annalise says, resuming her work.
After our dramatic entrance, it feels almost like a let-down to be wandering off with a man I just met. Granted, my guards can see me from pretty much anywhere in the building, but still.
I push all thoughts of snipers and food riots from my mind, and let the excitement of being here take its place. The smell of freshly churned dirt fills my nose. This is the life I imagined, only instead of having Beck by my side, I have Ryker —a guy who swings from rafters and kills people as a career.
Could be worse, I guess.
I grin. There are no prying eyes to prevent me from using magic. No appearances to maintain. I can just be myself.
I stretch my back and survey our work. In just a few hours, Crispin and I have planted and harvested six fields. Huge heads of cabbage, long green beans, tall stalks of corn. It won’t feed the entire Society, but it’s a start. Perhaps it’s even enough to help calm the riots.
“Can you plant one more today?” Crispin asks. In the two days I’ve been here, he hasn’t said much to me beyond instructions. The way the Light witches, the ones who haven’t fled, eye me with suspicion reminds be of being at Summer Hill.
“Of course.” I pick up the seed spreader and wedge it into the ground. “What do you want here?”
“Rice,” he grunts. “We’ll have to flood the field when you’re done.”
I drop a seed into the spreader. With a wave of my hand, the entire row sprouts tiny buds. I lift the spreader from the ground and repeat the process until the whole field is planted. Then I stand at the edge and imagine a flood covering the dirt. Instantly, water covers everything. Feeling exhausted, I step back and wipe my brow.
“You need to get it to grow and harvest it, too,” Crispen says, dryly.
“I know.” The back of my neck aches. “I need a minute to let my magic rest. I’m not used to using this much.”
He squats and jabs a stick into the freshly tilled dirt. Since being here, it’s become clear why Mother didn’t send me to the Ag Center even though I had the aptitude: the Light witches who work here don’t want my help. In fact, I think it’s fair to say Crispin wishes I would leave. The sooner the better.
“Heya, Lark,” Ryker says as he jogs over to me. My heart flutters at the way his standard-issue Enforcer uniform compresses his already fit frame into something seemingly more muscular and lean.
My heart spasms and I grin.
Oh, God. What is wrong with me?
I scrunch up my forehead and press my lips together. Other than on the day we arrived, Ryker hasn’t come to the Ag Center. Instead, he spends his days doing things he refuses to tell me about and at night, he doesn’t come back to our room until I’m fast asleep.
Not that I mind. I’m still not use to sharing a room with him. He’s not as messy as Beck, but it feels like he takes up more space. Probably because he takes up one half of the bed. Something Beck never did.
“What are you doing here?” Every nerve in my body tingles, and I keep my eyes on the field, afraid that if I look at him, he’ll see the effect he’s having on me.
“I wanted to see you. When are you done?”
I lift my eyes and focus on Ryker’s smooth, tanned skin; high cheekbones; deep brown eyes. He looks like himself until he tilts his head to the side and gives me a grin I’d recognize anywhere.
Beck.
My hands fly to my mouth, trying to control the scream growing in my chest.
One. Two. Three.
Dirt swirls around my shins where I kick at the ground. Why is he so reckless? And where is Ryker? Surely he didn’t approve this idea. I know he wouldn’t.
When I turn around, Ryker—no, Beck—is biting his lip.
Are you stupid?
His face falls. No. I thought about this.
I doubt it. And if he gets caught…My stomach rolls. This is so much worse than sneaking into my bedroom.
Through clenched teeth, I say, “I need to finish harvesting before I can leave. So maybe in an hour?”
Crispin grunts in confirmation.
Ryker/Beck straightens his back. “I’ll meet you at the house.”
He walks away. The ache in the back of my throat grows stronger.
Crispin points to the paddy of full-grown rice. “It’s time to harvest. You need to drain the water and dry it out.”
With a bowed head, I lift my index and middle finger toward the field, and allow magic to swirl within me. When I exhale, the water evaporates and a brisk wind rustles the rice stalks.
An hour later, after the field is harvested, I gather my things. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Hmpf.”
“Have a nice evening.” I shuffle off toward the rest area where my guards wait. I’m relieved when I notice Ryker isn’t with them. Still, if he’s not here, and Beck is at the house waiting for me, where is he?
My finger twitches over my wristlet. “Ryker Newbold,” I whisper.
“Classified.”
I scowl. Either he’s out on official business or he’s somehow blocked me from seeing his location. Either way, it doesn’t calm my nerves.
When they see me, Oliver and Dawson jump to their feet, but Kyra yawns and flips up a weird device she has strapped over her eye.
“Where’s Annalise?” I ask.
“Malin needed her.” There’s a red ring around Kyra’s eye.
I point at the device. “What is that thing?”
She tosses it in the air and catches it. “Something new. It’s called an eyepiece. It lets me see conferences and lectures. And your mother. All very boring, but extremely necessary according to Annalise.”
“Fascinating.” I adjust the strap of my satchel against my shoulder. “I’m done for the day.”
Instead of walking to the estate where we’re staying, we transport. With the riots and general unease, it’s not safe for me to be out on the streets.
As soon as we land in the foyer, my heart goes into overdrive, sputtering and flipping. Which means one thing: Beck’s here. And Ryker is still MIA.
Kyra stares out the double French doors that lead to the garden. “That’s weird. Why is Ryker outside, reading a book? Shouldn’t he be at work?”
I search for a reason. “Didn’t you see him at the Ag Center? He came by to tell me he had the afternoon off.”
She gives a sideways glance at Oliver. He shrugs.
Beck has to leave before Ryker—the real Ryker gets home. He’s going to get all of us in trouble.
Muggy summer air lodges in my lungs when I step outside. Across the lush green lawn, Beck lounges against a pergola reading a book.
The wind catches his shaggy hair and tousles it. The sleeves of his Enforcer uniform are pushed up to his elbows and his chest muscles strain against the tight fabric. He looks handsome.
As Ryker.
Beck.
I guess it looks nice on Ryker who is really Beck? If I find Beck attractive when he’s masking as Ryker, does that mean I find Ryker attractive? Or am I only finding him attractive because I know it’s Beck?
I sigh. This is going to make me crazy.
Beck’s so lost in his book, he doesn’t notice me as I scuttle down the pebbled walkway. I pluck a purple flower from a hydrangea plant and fold my fingers over the delicate petals. I imagine a butterfly like the one Eloise created all those months ago. Only I don’t plan on turning this one into an apple and eating it.
Soft wings brush against my palm and I release the creature. It flits across the grass toward Beck and lands on his book. He raises his eyes slowly, his smile growing and growing until I’m afraid it’s going to swallow his face.
“You’re home.” He says it so naturally. Like this is normal for us.
I stay on my side of the hydrangea bush. All I want is to feel his arms around me, taste his lips on mine, and never, ever have to worry about hurting him.
But that’s not realistic.
I kick off my sandals and scrunch my toes in the cool grass. You need to leave.
He frowns and sets his book aside. Is that what you want?
My chin crumples. I don’t want to hurt you.
I surprised you earlier and you didn’t attack me. He’s so calm and sure of himself. It’s the complete opposite of my ragged breath.
To my left, near the house, Annalise has joined Kyra and Oliver. They maintain their distance, giving Ryker and me privacy.
“Lark,” Beck says, reaching for me. “I’ve missed you.”
Like a magnet, he draws me to him until we’re standing just inches apart. “It’s so cool under here,” I say, forcing my hands into my pockets to keep from touching him. My fingers graze my necklace and I twirl the chain around them. Above us, the leafy vines above us blot out the harsh sun.
“A spell,” he whispers. “I couldn’t take the heat after a few minutes.”
“Smart.”
Kyra and Oliver watch us from edge of the gravel path. As much as I want to wrap myself around Beck, my guards would find it odd if Ryker and I kissed. Suspicious even. And I can’t forget that Annalise is aware that Beck can mask.
“Can we go somewhere? Alone?” Beck asks in a low, husky voice.
I shake my head. What I wouldn’t do to have a few minutes alone with him, but we can’t be too careful. This is the best we can do right now. Especially since I don’t know where Ryker is or when he’s coming back.
You have to act like Ryker.
Beck scowls, but I smile at him. “I want to play with magic,” I say. It seems safe enough. Like something Ryker and I would do.
“Oh?”
My fingers twitch and I lace them together in front of me. “Oliver taught me how to materialize objects.” I roll my shoulders and clear my mind. “Do you want to see?”
“Why do I have the feeling I’m going to regret saying yes?” He pushes on my nose.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’m a fantastic student, remember?” The magic tugs at me, begging to be set free. With a quick flick of my hand, a herd of sheep appears on the lawn.
Beck stares at me, speechless.
“Sheep?” Kyra calls from across the lawn. “Did you do that?”
“It was the first thing I thought of,” I answer.
“You better know how to get rid of them.” Beck reaches out to stroke a black-faced ewe. “They’re going to destroy everything.” He kneels and the ewe nuzzles his neck. He laughs. “This one is cute though.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Kyra staring at Beck oddly. “Since when do you like animals?”
A lump forms in my throat.
Beck immediately drops his hand and backs slowly into the pergola. “I’m sorry, I tried. But those things are creepy.”
“I can’t believe you’re afraid of harmless sheep,” I tease, hoping it seems natural. My gaze flits to Kyra and she has her eyes narrowed. She’s not buying our act.
But Beck persists and with a wicked smile, he shoves off the wall and sends a wave of magic toward me. I dodge and it hits the bushes. The branches growing up the side of the pergola reach out and tickle me.
“Stop!” I squeal. “Make it stop!” The branches wrap themselves around my arms and legs and run their soft flower buds over my exposed skin.
“Not until you get rid of the sheep.”
“I can’t use my hands,” I sputter between giggles. “I can’t do magic if I can’t move my hands.”
“Then you’re not a very good witch, are you?” Beck taunts, but at the same time, the bushes release me. I lose my balance and stumble forward before landing on my hands and knees.
Beck helps me to my feet and his fingers skim along the underside of my arm, sending my heart into an erratic patter. No matter how many times he touches me, I’ll never get used to it.
“What?” I tease, knowing he can feel the effect he has on me.
His lips hover over mine and my hands tangle in the shaggy dark curls at the base of his neck. I close my eyes and imagine Beck the way he should look: blond messy waves, chiseled jaw, dimple, olive eyes.
His hands run up my back to my bare shoulders and heat spreads throughout my body.
“I love you,” he whispers.
Kyra gasps. My guards are watching Ryker and me kiss. And Ryker say he loves me.
And every one of them knows there’s something not right about that.
Over Beck’s shoulder, Annalise glares at us. She folds her arms across her chest. I draw a quick breath and imagine different scenarios in which what just happened is even possible.
I step back and rub my hands down the front of my skirt, stalling for time. The best thing is to pretend like it was unexpected. Which is was. But I need to act aloof. Or even upset.
“What was that?” I accuse, forcing a tinge of anger into my voice.
Beck rubs his bicep. “I thought…I’m sorry, Lark. I thought you’d be okay with it. It seemed like…”
“Like what? Like I wanted you to force yourself on me?” I set my jaw hard. “Don’t forget what happened last time.” Fire, I think. I tried to set Ryker on fire on our binding night.
I know. “Are you going to set me on fire again?” The conversation is seamless, yet next to Annalise, Kyra frantically taps her wristlet, and my panic grows as the color drains from her face.
“Annalise?” Beck calls. “When will Malin be back? Lark and I need some time alone to discuss what happened, but I don’t want to miss dinner.”
His question falls on deaf ears. Kyra’s body shakes and her lip trembles as she holds out her wristlet to Annalise.
Something bad has happened. Kyra’s trying to not be hysterical, Beck says to me. Can you sense it?
The deluge of horror coming from the knot of guards is overwhelming and I brace myself against it. If I let it all hit me at once, I can’t control my magic.
Beck wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. The action doesn’t match our conversation, but not one of my guards notice.
Are you able to tell what’s happened?
I think they know. Beck strokes my arm. “I’m so sorry, Lark. For everything. I didn’t want this to happen.”
“What are you talking about?”
He squeezes my hand. “I thought things would be different.”
Several members of Mother’s staff appear at the end of the walkway and confer with my guards. They’re too far away for me to hear, but Kyra paces wildly along the edge of the group and keeps her eyes turned from me.
“You need to go. Transport or something. Just get out of here.”
“I can’t leave you alone to deal with this.”
Suddenly, Annalise spins around and her raven-colored ponytail flies behind her like a dark flag.
All eyes are on us and I keep my hands loose, ready to strike. There’s enough fear and misery in this garden to make me lethal, and while I don’t want to hurt anyone, no one is going to hurt Beck.
“Kyra?” I say evenly. “Is everything okay.”
Annalise vanishes and reappears at my side. Her closeness sends electricity rippling through me.
“You need to come with me,” she says.
Another guard appears next to Beck.
I position myself between Beck and the guard. My hands are in the ready position, near my chest, palms out.
Annalise’s arm darts out and she slaps a piece of metal around my wrist. I stare at the restraint in disbelief.
“You’re restraining me? Why? What did I do?”
“Go home, Ryker.” Beck takes a step toward me and she cuts him down with an icy glare. “Now.”
I dig my shoes into the dirt, but it isn’t enough to stop her from dragging me up the path toward the house. Magic is boiling inside me, and with no outlet, it feels like I’m suffocating. I can’t breathe.
“Annalise! Stop! Tell me what’s wrong!” I plead.
Beck chases us down the path. “Where are you taking Lark?”
No one answers him.
“I said, ‘Where are you taking Lark?” Beck’s bronze hand clasps Annalise’s shoulder, and he yanks us to a stop. My other guards rush forward and encircle me. The anger rippling off him combines with the grief coming from my guards, and I drop to my knees. I can’t lift my hands, I can’t do magic, and I have no idea what’s happening.
“Annalise? What’s going on?” I cry.
“That’s what I want to know.” Beck paces the perimeter of my security zone. His jaw clenches. “Let her go,” he says, swinging his fist at Oliver.
“Arrest him.”
Magic sparks from Dawson, but Beck deftly deflects it and sends a stream arching back toward my guards and me.
There’s no point in fighting the pain of my locked magic anymore, it rushes through me and my body convulses under the strain.
I’m sorry, Birdie. I never meant to hurt you. Beck’s anguished voice fills my head. I didn’t mean for this to happen.
A slow burn builds in my gut and spreads through my body. I turn my head to the side, to where Beck stood just moments ago, and find emptiness. He’s gone.
And with him, whatever small piece of calm that existed within me has disappeared.
Anger flashes white hot before me. There’s nowhere for it to go, and it turns in on me, devouring every rational part of my soul.
My body convulses again, blotting out the world for a second. Through the seemingly endless darkness, I can hear Kyra crying. I can feel overwhelming sadness, misery, and grief.
And it makes me smile. I am alive and powerful.
With little effort, I roll onto my side and flex my fingers. Once, twice, a third time. I pluck the restraint from my wrist and toss it aside.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” I say, coolly.
Annalise stoops and picks up the discarded piece of metal. When she faces me, tears well in her eyes and an ugly red splotch covers her chest.
“You can’t stop me,” I hiss. “Nothing you do can stop me.”
My guards form a wall before me, their hands at the ready. Even Kyra stands with them, like a traitor. “Did my mother tell you to do this?” Hatred oozes from my lips as I pace. “Has she decided to get rid of me because she knows I’m already stronger than she’ll ever be? She’s jealous of me, you know that, don’t you?”
Annalise drops her hands and anguish fills her face. “Lark, Malin is dead.”