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JETHRO WOKE SLOWLY, his mind trapped in a dream of mist and fog. He shifted, inhaling Trinity’s scent on the pillow. He reached out, searching for her as flashes from last night blazed through his head—her walking toward him wearing only a shirt, her long legs bared for him, her unbuttoning her shirt and exposing her silky flesh, her naked in his arms, her mouth perfect, lush and warm, her fangs—adding a hint of danger. His skin prickled but his mind drifted to how good she’d felt beneath him, her claws raking down his back. His eyes popped open and he sat up. The pounding in his head made him sway and his stomach threatened to revolt. She’d drugged him. He flew from the bed and over to the door, zipping up his pants.
One of Cal’s Guards blocked the exit.
“Get out of my—”
“Sir, read this.” The Guard shoved an envelope against his chest.
He glanced over the Guard’s shoulder. The cages were empty and more than a dozen Guards waited nearby, glaring at him. He touched his pocket. That bitch. She’d seduced him, drugged him and stolen his keys. He’d kill her when he caught her. His fists clenched, wrinkling the envelope as he turned and strode to the table, dropping onto the chair. He tossed the note down and rested his head in his hands as his blood thrummed an insistent beat behind his eyes. He’d told her he loved her. He dropped his head to the table, letting it hit hard but he barely felt it, the wound to his heart and soul making him numb.
“Sir,” said the Guard at the door. “My orders were to leave as soon as you woke.”
“Give me a minute to change.”
“Yes, sir.” The Guard stepped outside, but stayed in front of the door.
He picked up the envelope, straightened it the best he could and opened it. It was a letter from Cal, explaining that Jethro was a prisoner and would be escorted into town for a hearing. He should’ve never trusted her. She was a Servant after all. He snatched his shoes from the floor. He was in deep shit now. All he could hope was that his mom and his sister had gotten far away.
He glanced out the door as he walked to his trunk to grab a clean shirt. He couldn’t win against a dozen Guards especially ones who were itching to beat him to a pulp. Not only were these Cal’s Guards but because of him, there was no reward. He walked back to the table, taking in the situation outside again. He was strong and fast. If he could get them to look away, just for a moment, he might make it to the forest, but he had no one to create a diversion. No one was on his side. He pulled the shirt on over his head. It was time to pay for his foolishness. He stepped outside.
“Why didn’t Cal wake me?” It wasn’t like the captain to let him sleep it off.
“We tried, sir.”
Figures. The little bitch made sure he’d get caught and he’d been going to risk his life and the life of his family for her. He snorted. He was a fool—a dumb, Grunt’s ass fool.
One of the Guards yelled traitor. His stomach dropped to his feet. They executed traitors. He stopped himself from bolting toward the forest. They didn’t know he’d planned to set her free. His punishment wouldn’t be that severe. He’d lose this job and probably the Producer Camps, but they’d survive somehow.
The trip into town wasn’t pleasant. The Guards weren’t in a good mood. They were hung over and had lost a lot of money. They knew who to blame for their misfortune and made sure he understood exactly how upset they were. He’d traveled with these soldiers for months and he’d never been bumped into, tripped and shoved as much as on this trip, but no matter how much he wanted to bury his fist in someone’s face, he did nothing because he deserved every hit.
By the time they arrived at the offices of the Supreme Almighty he was ready to get this entire ordeal done. He had a Servant to catch because no matter what his punishment, when it was over he’d find her.
They handed him over to Rex, the Guard who’d escorted him to his first official meeting with the Supreme Almighty.
“Hey, good to see you again.” For some reason he enjoyed annoying this Guard.
Rex sent him a disgusted look but remained silent as he led Jethro down a maze of corridors before shoving him into a small room and locking the door.
The room had a bed, a chair and table, a pitcher of water and a bucket for a bathroom. He drank a quarter of the water and dropped onto the bed. He was exhausted. The drug must still be working through his system. It was the only explanation for his physical weariness. His mental fatigue was a different story. Last night played over and over in his head, causing him to waver between arousal and anger, but he forced those thoughts aside. He had to focus on the future—how he’d defend himself and then, when that was done, how he was going to catch her.
He practiced what he’d say to the Council. She’d been in his tent for her protection. Everyone had been drunk and she’d been a hated Servant surrounded by Guards. He’d take a hit on the alcohol. The Council wouldn’t agree that the Guards had needed a day of celebration, so he’d be punished for that, but it wasn’t illegal to give Guards alcohol. He’d explain that she must’ve snuck something into his drink, drugging him. He’d play the victim. Shit, he was the victim, but he wouldn’t always be. His mind drifted to what he’d do when the hearing was over. He’d spend every waking hour looking for her and when he found her, she’d pay.
The door opened and he jumped up, his icy rage replaced by dread. It’d be okay. It had to be. His mind spun through his story again as he followed Rex down the hallway. He didn’t think he’d go to jail, but he wasn’t positive. He had let a traitor escape. He needed to convince them that he was the victim and if they let him go, he’d find her. He was the best shot they had. No one else had even come close to capturing her.
Rex stopped in front of large, double doors and opened one of them, stepping aside as Jethro entered the council chambers.
The walls of the room were covered in heavy, dark paneling. There were no chairs, tables or decorations of any kind. Even the air seemed oppressive. There were no windows, the only light coming from a few lamps built into the paneling on the outskirts of the room and the lights from above that highlighted the Council. They—Jason, Conguise and the five other members—sat at the other end of the room on thrones several feet above him. For once, he wished he had his ceremonial robe. He was terribly underdressed in his old jeans and T-shirt.
“Approach,” ordered Jason.
Even though his instincts screamed for him to turn and run, he forced himself to move forward, Rex following a few feet behind him. If he stuck with his story, he’d be fine. He stopped several yards in front of the Council. They wore full ceremonial robes and they all had the same sneer on their faces as if he were something nasty on the bottom of their shoes. He glanced at Conguise, but the professor’s face was impassive. He straightened his shoulders. His strategy was sound. He’d look like a fool but a live fool was better than a dead traitor.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” asked Jason.
“I was drugged.”
“Where did she get the drugs?” asked Conguise.
“I’m not sure. I’d guess they were in her backpack.”
“The one you searched,” said a gray haired, councilwoman whose name plate was stamped B. Wilson.
“Yes.” That didn’t look good, but again, he had no problem being labeled a fool.
“How did she get access to her backpack?” asked Jason. “Wasn’t it in your possession?”
There was a smug gleam in Jason’s eyes. They knew the answer to all these questions. This was a test to see if he lied or tried to blame someone else. He wasn’t going to do either. “I took her to my tent to protect her.”
With that comment he received very dubious looks from the council members. D. Sallers, a chubby councilman with thick lips, actually laughed, but Jethro forged ahead with this tale. Only he and Indy knew the truth and he still trusted Indy. Hopefully, he wasn’t doubly a fool.
“We were celebrating our capture of the female called Trinity. Our plan was to use her as bait to trap the Tracker and Handler who often travel with her, but I believed the Guards needed a little time to relax first. Many of them wouldn’t live through the capture of the Tracker and Handler.”
“Which you failed to do,” snapped Conguise.
“Yes.” His eyes met the professor’s. Conguise was supposed to be on his side. “The captive drugged me and escaped. It’s my fault and my fault alone.”
“That’s interesting, since your mother and sister have disappeared,” said Conguise.
“I don’t know anything about that.” He struggled to hide his relief.
“And yet, you don’t seem worried about them,” said Conguise.
Shit, he’d played that card wrong. “Of course, I’m worried, but there’s nothing I can do while I’m here.”
Conguise’s brow raised and he glanced at Jason who still studied Jethro.
“So, you took the prisoner into your tent to protect her,” said a rotund, middle-aged female with brown hair, whose name plate said S. Coxer. “From my understanding, she was caged. Why was that not protection enough?”
“Ma’am.” He glanced down, feigning embarrassment. “The Guards were mostly male and they were drunk.” He cleared his throat. “Some were giving undo attention to her.”
“Why didn’t you station Guards at her cage?” asked the same female.
Think, think. “I didn’t want to take the celebration away from any of them. They’d all worked hard and had deserved some time off.”
“They’re Guards. It’s their job to work hard,” said Conguise.
He ignored Conguise and focused on the other council members. “I decided to forego the festivities myself and let her stay in my tent.”
Coxer raised her brow. “Then explain how you came to be half-undressed and sleeping in your bed while the prisoner escaped.” She held up her hand, stopping him from speaking. “Before you do, you should know we have witnesses who saw the prisoner naked on your lap, kissing you. The witnesses also state that you have claw marks on your back. That claim is easy enough to disprove.”
He should’ve turned out the damn light. “The prisoner and I have a history together. We met when we were both much younger.” He struggled with the next words. “I was fond of her.”
“Are you admitting to having sexual relations with someone outside of your class?” asked Jason.
“No, sir. We did not...I mean...I passed out before we could...” His face was on fire.
D. Sallers barked out a laugh and several of the other males snickered.
“I think we’ve heard enough,” said Conguise.
“I have more questions,” said Coxer, earning a hard stare from the professor. “Did you purposefully let the prisoner escape?” Her eyes seemed kinder now.
“No, ma’am. I did not.”
“What would you do if you found this female again?” she asked.
“I would...I will do whatever I can to ruin her life.” He owed her that much.
A few heads nodded.
“You may go now,” said Jason. “We’ll send for you after we’ve discussed the issue.”
“Sir, may I ask one question?”
“Yes,” said Jason.
“What happened to my Guards?”
“They are working for Cal,” said Jason.
“Sir, with all due respect, Cal will get them killed. He doesn’t know how to fight in the forest.”
“Your concern for your Guards is less than admirable,” said Conguise. “Leave us now.”
Rex took his arm and escorted him out the door and to his room. He sat on the bed, putting his head in his hands. That hadn’t gone well at all. He should’ve realized the Guards would talk. He should’ve turned out the damn light. No, he should’ve never trusted her. He’d seen her drawings of Hugh. She was a deceitful bitch and he was nothing more than a stupid, horny male, but if he lived through this, she’d pay. His mind drifted, fantasizing about all the ways he would punish her for her betrayal.
Rex opened the door. “They’re ready for you.”
“That didn’t take long.” He forced himself to follow the Guard down the hallway, when he really wanted to run away and escape. “Is that good or bad?”
“Don’t know. Seen it go both ways.”
“As always, you’re a great comfort.”
“I’m honest.” Rex opened the door. “Good luck” he whispered.
He gave the Guard a slight nod as they entered the room. At least someone was rooting for him. He stopped in front of the dais.
The Supreme Almighty and the council members didn’t look happy, but Conguise looked angry. He wasn’t sure if that were good or bad. The professor hadn’t been on his side earlier and that’d stung more than he’d like to admit. He’d known Conguise would be disappointed in him for his attraction to Trinity, but the man was like a father to him. He straightened his shoulders. It was clear that like was the important word in that sentence because even though his father would’ve been disappointed, Dad would’ve sided with him against the world.
“As you know,” said Jason. “Participating in the freeing of any rebel is a serious crime.”
He stared straight ahead, gritting his teeth to keep from defending himself. He was beginning to understand how Hugh had felt when he’d been falsely accused.
“It is treason,” said Conguise.
Sweat trickled down his back. He’d hang for treason and Trinity wouldn’t rescue him.
“After discussions”—continued Jason—“we don’t believe you meant to aid this House Servant in her escape.”
Rex grabbed his arm, steadying him as his knees buckled and air whooshed from his lungs. He was safe. His mom was safe. Kim was safe.
“However, we do feel you need to be punished.” Jason’s eyes darted to Conguise. “It has come to our attention that this isn’t the first time you’ve displayed...a deep regard for someone of another class.”
He swallowed again. The punishment for interclass relations, although usually not enforced, ranged from community service to death.
“For Araldo’s sake,” said Coxer. “Stop dragging this out and tell the boy his punishment.” She smiled slightly at him, her eyes sympathetic.
“Twenty lashes. To be administered in public.” Jason’s voice was peevish.
His body jerked, his instincts screaming for him to run, but he locked his legs and asked, “When?”
“Tomorrow,” said Jason. “You’ll stay here under guard until then.”
He nodded, unable to speak. Twenty lashes. He was going to be whipped—strapped up and publicly beaten. Rex opened the door to his room. He didn’t even remember leaving the Council Chamber. He dropped onto a chair. This couldn’t be happening. They never punished interclass mating. Never.
“I’ll be back with some food.” Rex hovered in the doorway.
“Just say what you want to say. I won’t tell anyone.” He tried to smile but his lips wouldn’t obey. “No reason to get anyone else in trouble.”
“You’ll need your strength so you should eat and rest. Try not to think about it too much. You’ll get through it.”
“Have you ever been whipped?”
“With a lash? No, but I’ve been beaten.” Rex shrugged. “Just take it. Don’t plead and try not to whimper. It won’t make the pain less but you’ll feel better about yourself afterward. Plus, pleading and crying only make them happy. It never makes them stop.”