3

KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE

MAYBE THIS WASN’T such a good idea.

My body is careening toward the ground at an alarming pace with the wind pulling back my cheeks and hair with brute force. My suit is going crazy, trying to calculate survival ratios and measure my rocketing biometrics. It’s not exactly designed to save me from a seven-thousand-foot free fall. Thirty percent odds in a state that has more fields than lakes aren’t that great. But there are also a few big reservoirs, and if I’m lucky—really lucky—I can land in one of those.

Scanning the area, I see a tiny shimmer of light. From my vantage point, it seems to be more of a pond, but anything’s better than hard-packed earth. I glue my hands to my sides and steer my body in the direction of the glittery surface. Just before I hit the water, I curl myself into a ball and pray that it’s more than twenty feet deep with no rocks at the bottom. My prayers are answered to a degree.

I enter the lake with the force of a meteor, only to find myself lodged to the waist in slick, oozing mud. I groan, but at least I’m alive. It takes me the better part of an hour to get free from all the muck, and my suit is already malfunctioning from the moisture. I strip it off in a nearby abandoned shed and wring all the water out, but it’s no use. My suit’s on the fritz. Designed to counter every possibility but submersion, thanks to the lack of water in Neospes, the suit refuses to even power up.

Great, I think. The last thing I need when going up against a bunch of overeager Guardians and the Faction is a malfunctioning suit. Taking a deep breath, I disengage the neural connector and power down the suit completely. I’ll take my chances without it, and try again when it’s dry. Right now, I need to get to Caden.

It’s not the easiest thing to hitch a ride looking as if I’ve just mud wrestled my way across the Midwest, but I manage to get one heading north to Fort Collins. The inside of the beat-up truck isn’t much cleaner than I am. Its owner is a young guy dressed in cargos and a T-shirt with a baseball cap perched atop a head of unruly, fire-red curls. I’m guessing he’s a college student working here over the summer. Before Caden had found out that he was the long lost prince to a parallel dimension, his plan had been to attend the local Colorado State University. Funny how things change.

“You okay?” the driver asks.

The last thing I want to do is make conversation, but I am grateful for the ride. “Fine,” I mumble. “Thanks for stopping.”

“You go to CSU?” he asks after a minute, staring at me out of the corner of his eye. “You look familiar.”

“First year agronomy,” I improvise, stifling a laugh. Then again, I’m half-covered in mud so I could look like anyone. “I was out testing soil samples. Summer intern for the USDA.”

“Wow, that sounds pretty cool for a freshman,” he says, reaching over to toss me a tub of wet wipes from the center console. “I’m a junior. I’m working to pay off some of my student loans since I couldn’t afford to go back home. Are you staying on or off campus?”

“Off.”

“Where?” he says. “I can drop you, if you like. It’s not like I have anywhere to be for another forty-five minutes. Name’s Bass, by the way.”

“Riven,” I reply, debating whether I should let Bass drop me off in an area that will be heavily secured. I probably have a better shot of getting there faster with him than without him. “Okay, sure. Head to southwest Frontage Street.”

We ride in silence most of the way, with me murmuring directions across town, but Bass exhales loudly when we pull up to the forbidding wall and black gates. “Fancy,” he says.

“Not my place,” I say. “My boss’s. Thanks for the ride.”

Bass flushes. “Hey, um, do you want to get a beer sometime?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Coffee, then?”

I shrug. “Don’t do that, either. See you around.”

Bass drives off, his expression slightly miffed. Maybe he thought we’ d had a moment in the truck, but I’m not here to make new friends, even if he seemed like a nice enough guy. I wait until the dented rear fender is out of sight before walking up to the towering iron gates on the outskirts of the town. I stare right into the security camera on the stone column to the left.

Before I can even open my mouth, the gate swings open on well-oiled hinges. I start walking up the paved driveway, but haven’t made it a few yards before two men dressed in red and wielding machine guns meet me. More Faction soldiers, carbon copies of the ones I’ d left on the plane with Charisma and Philip.

“Boys,” I acknowledge as they fall into step beside me. Stony-faced, they don’t say a word the entire trek up to Era Taylor’s old house. I’m not intimidated, even though my suit’s out of commission. If anyone wanted me dead, I’ d already be dead. The way I figure it, the Faction needs me more than I need them.

The fact that Caden is here makes that more than obvious. I clench my jaw. He shouldn’t have come back here, even if this world had been his home for most of his life. Caden is an anomaly like me, a product of two disparate universes. A long time ago, his mother accidentally everted to Neospes and the then-King had married her. When the king was assassinated, she fled back to the Otherworld with her son after discovering another plot to murder them both. The royal clone, Cale, assumed the throne so as not to cause panic, and sent in his most ruthless General to kill the true prince. Only, the General had failed, falling for the prince instead.

I sigh. Those days are long gone. I’ d been Legion General for all of a few months before Cale sent me to kill Caden, only to discover that my own sister had been protecting him. My gut twists as I think of Shae. She, too, had been a casualty of Cale’s twisted vendetta. He’ d given the order to make her into a Vector to punish me, and I’ d had to destroy her. I swallow hard, burying the emotion deep. This isn’t the time or place to display weakness.

“Weapons,” one of the men grunts at the entrance to the house. I look up to take measure of the rebuilt structure looming ahead of me. Before it’ d been destroyed, it had been imposing but tasteful. Now, it looks like a giant square hunk of rock with a ten-inch thick steel door and no windows. As if I’ d give up my weapons entering a building that looks like that.

“Negative.”

“Weapons,” the man insists, raising the nozzle of his gun as if that’s going to make me do anything but knock him to the ground.

“Point that thing at me and you better be prepared to use it.”

“Stand down, soldier,” a sharp, familiar voice says through the door. “General Riven doesn’t like to be told what to do, nor does she like to follow orders.”

“Era,” I say to the stern-faced woman sitting just out of sight. “I haven’t been a general for a long time—you know that.”

“Old habits die hard,” she says, pushing the door wide. “Please, come in.”

As I step over the threshold, I try not to let my surprise show on my face. Era Taylor is in a wheelchair—one that looks like a super advanced mini-hovercraft—but a wheelchair just the same. The last time I’ d seen her, she’ d arrived in Neospes like an avenging angel with an army of Faction guards ready to take down Cale. This frail woman is a pale imitation, but I know the last thing Era would want from anyone, much less me, is pity.

“Nice wheels,” I tell her.

She waves her hand at the chair. “One of the bonuses of the job.”

I push aside the twinge of compassion. If the situation were reversed, Era, or any of the Faction, wouldn’t be mourning my debilitated physical state. Plus, Era’s mind is probably still as sharp as a tack. My hand rests loosely on the hilt of a dagger tucked into my belt, the threat subtle. “So where’s Caden?”

“No need for any of that,” she says, her black eyes flashing for a second, before entering a command on the armrest console and steering the chair down the hallway. “He’s here and safe. Philip told me what happened on the plane. They’re okay, if you were wondering,” she says over her shoulder.

“I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t at all worried that you left my son and his”—she breaks off and clears her throat before continuing—“Charisma stranded on a plane, about to crash?”

I grin, unable to let the opportunity pass. “You can say it, you know. His girlfriend. Tiny little Philip, all grown up.”

My grin widens as I savor the pissed-off look on Era’s face. She must hate that she’s no longer the only woman in Philip’s life. He’s a quintessential mama’s boy.

When I first met Charisma, she was a party girl—one who drank to hide her insecurity and shyness—and let people take advantage of her. That all changed when I’ d saved her from being hurt by a group of date rapists. The Charisma I’ve seen today is leaps and bounds ahead of the girl she used to be. She’s strong and smart, and far too good for Philip.

“He should count himself lucky, you know,” I say. “That girl has loyalty in spades. She’s one of the few people I liked here.”

“The same girl you were willing to let die?”

My exhalation is long and loud. “Era, you and I both know that that plane is equipped with vertical landing gear. I verified the specs the minute I got on board.” I tap the side of my temple. “It’s all in here. So, there was literally no chance of them crashing or crash landing. Or dying.”

She stops the chair. “In that case, you chose to jump out of a moving aircraft that would have brought you to the exact place you are right now.”

“I have trust issues,” I say, shrugging. “Plus, we don’t exactly have the best history of being honest with each other. How do I know you’re not leading me to the gallows?”

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of drama,” she says archly, and I stifle a smile. Just like old times—playing her cards close to the vest. Era Taylor may well be one of the most mysterious and secretive people I’ve ever met. Who knew that a high school physics teacher would hold the keys to two connected parallel dimensions? I study the rigid line of her profile. Even in captivity her spirit hadn’t been broken. They’ d ravaged her body, but not much else. Looks are deceiving, hers more than most.

Era guides the chair to the end of the hall. I follow in silence with the two gunmen trailing my steps like shadows, aware of the cameras tracking my every movement.

The house looks nothing like it did before. The interior is a giant maze, bordered with shiny floors and metal walls. Everything about the space feels cold and clinical, and for a girl who grew up in her father’s advanced robotic labs, that’s saying a lot.

My eyes narrow as they fall on a series of black dots along the walls.

Era follows my gaze. “Laser security. But you knew that already.”

“Neospes tech. Can cut a man to ribbons. Isn’t that against the law?”

She eyes me coolly. “So were the Vectors sent here to capture me.”

“What did they want?”

“They didn’t say.”

Her obsidian gaze settles on me with an odd intensity. I look away first. I don’t even want to know what they did to her. It wouldn’t have been pretty. The Vectors have no empathy and operate on programmed commands. Whatever torture she underwent would have been brutal. My eyes slide to her emaciated, motionless legs, and I quickly look away. I swallow hard. Now that I’ve opened myself up to human emotion, it’s as if I can’t stop feeling every little thing. Especially compassion.

I squirm. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she shoots back, a half smile breaking the tight line of her mouth. “I’m here and alive.” Her smile widens and she tips her head in a small birdlike motion. “Despite the reports, empathy from you is unexpected.”

Squelching the stupid emotion, I roll my eyes. “Why? I’m a real person with real feelings and everything.”

“And nanoplasm for blood.”

She has a point. I shrug and decide to change the subject, gesturing at the space. “You did a little remodeling? Didn’t feel like moving?”

“Something like that,” Era says with a dismissive wave.

The Guardians had rebuilt the facility from the top down after the Vectors destroyed it while chasing after Caden and me. However, the fact that Era hadn’t chosen to relocate to a safer, unknown area makes me wonder: what’s so important that the Guardians would decide to remain here in plain sight? Unless it was some kind of stance—some show of strength that the Faction would not be cowed.

I almost crash into the back of the chair as she stops in front of the elevators at the far end of the hallway. She leans into the side panel for a retina and biometric scan, the red lines from the device distorting her face. I’ll bet anything it’s more Neospes tech, which makes me even more convinced that they’re hiding something valuable here. I’m pretty sure the advanced security is not because this is the home of the esteemed Faction leader. There has to be more.

Era swings around as the partitions to the elevator slide apart, dismissing the two men walking behind us with a curt nod.

“Catch you later, boys,” I say with a wink as the doors hiss shut. “Maybe you’ll actually get to use those toys the next time we see each other.”

“Level Six,” Era says in a loud clear command after a glare in my direction.

“What? I have a rule. Point a weapon at me, be prepared to use it.”

The elevator begins a slow, smooth descent. The last house didn’t have any subterranean levels I’ d known about—just the lab on the first level, and the upper floors. But this makes sense—on the defensive front, lower floors are more difficult to access.

“How far down does this go?”

“More than six levels,” Era says.

I kneel down, resting my elbows on the armrest of the wheelchair. Era flinches slightly at my nearness, but covers it up with a loud sigh. “You know I could make you tell me, right?” I say.

Era’s gaze could incinerate stone. “Regardless of whom you think you are, Riven, I am the leader of the Faction, and you will address me with the proper respect.”

I smile and stand. “Just checking to see if you were still in there.”

“Despite what you may have heard, I am quite intact where it matters. Now, come along,” she says as the elevator slows to a stop. It opens to a floor that looks exactly like the first, only there are a few more doors along the wide hallway, and two more soldiers waving big guns in my face. Now I understand why she dismissed the first two. Era ushers me toward a second elevator at the far end.

“I didn’t know about what happened to you until recently,” I admit, watching as she undergoes another security scan. “Charisma told me.” I lower my voice as the elevator doors shut. This time it swishes to the side, and then down before coming to a smooth stop. “What did they do to you?”

Era’s face twists, shifting with the memory of something hideous before recomposing into its formerly serene, yet stern, state. The monotone words she throws over her shoulder do little to conceal the weight of the emotion behind them. “They did what they had to do. They wanted information. I resisted, so they tried to make me comply by peeling the skin from my legs while I watched.”

I try to cover my revulsion, pressing my lips together. “Who were they?”

“Vectors.”

“But, sent by whom?”

“That is the question.”

We travel in silence down another hallway before Era opens the door to a large office with a long, oval table and a wall-to-wall video screen displaying the feed of a rust-colored dead landscape that looks eerily like the Outers in Neospes. The room isn’t empty. Five men and women occupy seats around the table. The rest of the Faction, I’m guessing. Era meets my eyes, and wheels her chair around to a space at the right of the head of the table, gesturing for me to sit in the empty seat across from her.

“I’ d rather stand.”

“Do as you like.” She waves a hand around the room. “These, as you may have already deduced, are the five leaders of the Faction. Once the Lord King of Neospes everted here for help, they were convened at my request.” I think of Cale before realizing that she’s talking about Caden, not the clone responsible for nearly killing him and taking over the throne. She turns her attention to me. “You are here for two reasons. One, the Lord King requested your presence, and two, there is an imminent threat, and not just to Neospes. To us all. The Vectors who attacked me had a purpose. We need to find out what it is.”

The tension in the room soars. I make a big show of taking the seat she had offered and lounging back, arms crossed over my chest. “And I can help you, how?”

Era’s answer is a punch to the gut. “You were their leader.”

“You think the Vectors sent here were Danton’s?” I watch her expression, but she gives nothing away. There’s a good chance they could have been my father’s—after all, there’s no one else who knows them as well as he does. He’ d designed and built them from nothing but a line of code. But why would he attack the Faction here on their home turf? Or capture Era and release her? It doesn’t make any sense. “Why did they let you go?”

“They didn’t let me go,” she says. “I was rescued by the Guardians and Faction soldiers. They found me and saved me from certain death.”

I shake my head slowly. “Era, if the Vectors didn’t want you found, you wouldn’t have been found. If they wanted you dead, you’ d be dead. There are no gray areas with them. Only orders.” For a second, I think of the big Commander Vector I’ d destroyed in Cale’s quarters and shiver. It had been a new kind of self-aware android—one that could circumvent orders based on its own assessment of a situation. Yet another law that my father broke to serve his own interests. I take a breath as the attention in the room converges on me. “You weren’t rescued, Era. You were released. The question is, why?”

“We’ll have to disagree on that. The Vectors fled the minute my men discovered my location.” I want to push the point, but remain silent. Vectors don’t flee—ever. But I wasn’t there, and what she believes has no bearing on why I am here right now. I have two objectives: kill my father and keep Caden safe. And Caden’s more important—he’s the only important thing at this moment.

“I want to see Caden. The Lord King,” I amend after the stifled gasp farther down the table. “Now.”

After a beat, Era clears her throat, ignoring my rudeness. “I think your father everted here for a reason, and not because he wanted to deliver a lethal blow to the Faction by targeting me.”

“He’s not after the Faction,” I say tiredly. “He wants me.”

“You?”

I frown at her, and lower my voice so only she can hear. “Didn’t Aurela explain when I left Neospes? Danton wants my genetic code so he can replicate it. It’s why I everted the minute he did. I left Neospes to find him and kill him first.”

“You can’t kill him, Riv,” a deep and utterly familiar voice says from behind me. “We need his help.”

I turn and all the strength leaves me at the sight of the boy—no, the man—standing there. Breath and bones desert me. Era disappears, as do the others—even the table and the walls fade to white. Time stills, and it’s only Caden and me in the room. Every moment from when I’ d first met him to when I’ d left him standing crowned a king on the parapet of the castle in Neospes races through me like a violent summer storm, leaving me wrecked in its wake.

His hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it, brushing past his collar in messy waves. Like me, he’s dressed in regular clothing from this world—dark jeans, T-shirt, leather jacket—but he looks every bit a king. There’s power in his posture, in the strong curve of his jaw, in the glint of his eyes.

I want to throw myself at him, wind my fingers in his hair, feel every inch of his body crushed against me, inhale his scent, and feel his heartbeat. But, instead, I stay glued to my chair. It’s only been a year, but it feels like there’s an eternity of time between us. He’s had to be a king, and I’ve had to be… me. If it weren’t for the stampeding reaction of my heart, we could be strangers. Remembering etiquette, I stand as Era and the others at the table already have, and attempt an awkward bow.

“My Lord King,” I murmur.

But instead of responding with the protocol return greeting, a half smile flits across his face before he covers the ground between us in three long strides to gather me in his arms, oblivious to anyone in the room but me. He stares at me for a second with those green, green eyes as if trying to reconcile my face to the one in his memory. Greedily, I do the same, drinking in his features—the straight nose, the strong jawline, the wide parted lips that I want to lose myself in.

Caden’s eyes meet mine, his fingers wind into the hair at my nape, and he yanks me against him, the blood in my body replaced with liquid fire.

“Riven,” he whispers once, his voice husky.

I swallow hard. “Cade.”

Something flares in his eyes at the sound of his name on my tongue. And then I can’t even speak because his mouth is crushing mine in a kiss so fierce that my toes are lifting off the floor, and all I can feel is him.