Chapter 24 - Sam

“How do you know Danata Rothblade?” Mateo asked, his dark gaze shifting from Greg to Sam. “Did she send you?”

Sam heard fear in his question, and it was enough to convince her that he did know Danata. Who wouldn’t be afraid, after knowing her for even a day?

“No, she didn’t send us,” Sam said categorically. She didn’t want to be associated with Danata in any way, much less in one that involved the level of cruelty used to damage so many people.

“We came here guided by . . . Fate,” she added, the word feeling like a foreign object in her mouth.

Ever since Greg had come into her life talking about Morphids, castes and Fate, Sam hadn’t thought much of the latter’s influence on her life. The mark on her back and her abilities had, until today, seemed as random as her eye color and skin tone. Now, though, after driving for hours without even knowing their destination and ending up right here, she couldn’t help but believe in the presence of a higher force urging her on.

“Fate,” Mateo repeated, sounding as if he didn’t think much of it himself.

“Yeah, Fate,” Greg said. “She’s a bitch, ain’t she?”

“Greg,” Sam chided him. He was such a hothead, so impulsive and vibrant and fierce. God, she loved him for that and more. Still, she didn’t want him to curse and grow jaded.

She felt guilty for it all. “I didn’t want to bring you to a place like this. If I had known . . .”

“It’s not your fault, baby. Don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. Her heart warmed at his protectiveness, his love for her. As long as he was by her side, she knew she could do anything—even endure the agony that flowed through this place, a dark current that seemed to ride the air itself.

“So Fate brought a girl with an unknown caste—which can mean nothing but trouble—to my very door step?” Mateo smirked, the brush of skepticism curling his lips. “On top of that, she’s also a girl I can’t read.”

“Meaning?” Greg demanded.

“Meaning that, beyond the superficial, like Sam’s need to stay here to ask questions or to get some sleep, I can’t tell what she really needs, what drives her. Like I said, I’m a Caretaker, and that’s the sort of thing I’m normally able to perceive. Like you, for instance,” Mateo gestured toward Greg, “I can read you like an open book. You want nothing more than to keep her safe.” He gestured to Sam this time.

His affirmation set the hairs on the back of Sam’s arms on end. She exchanged a glance with Greg. Was that all he really needed? She felt selfish, suddenly. He had to need more than that. There must be something she could give him.

“But you,” Mateo turned his focus on Sam once more. “You’re unreadable at that level.”

That came as no surprise. If she herself had no idea what she wanted or needed, why should he? Maybe Fate had brought her here. Maybe Fate had a plan for her. Whatever the case, she was far from knowing exactly what that plan was and farther still from accepting anything she hadn’t chosen of her own free will.

“Your needs are muddled,” Mateo continued. “And I don’t trust people who don’t know themselves. They’re wild cards and, more times than not, things don’t go well for anyone around them once they make up their mind.”

“Listen,” Greg said, bristling, “you don’t know anything about her, so don’t go making any assumptions. She told you she could help these people, and she’s telling the truth. She has a purpose here. It may not be clear yet, but I’m sure you know how that works. Now, are you going to let her help? Or not?”

“Not until you tell me what you know about Danata Rothblade,” Mateo said.

Sam and Greg looked sideways at each other. Was there any danger in telling him what they knew about the Regent?

“It’s complicated,” Sam said. “But we agree with you. She’s a monster and, unless there are others like her, she alone is responsible for what ails these people. She . . .” Sam looked down at her hands, thinking of Ashby. Her throat tightened, the image of his still body flashing before her eyes.

Greg took up for her, “Let’s just say she didn’t wait long at all to show us just how ruthless she is. In that sense, it sounds we might have been luckier than you.”

Mateo stayed quiet, his gaze moving between them as if evaluating their truthfulness. After a moment, he seemed to make up his mind and spoke without qualms.

“Anyone who has ever met her is certainly unfortunate. But, I dare say, none are as unfortunate as me. I was once in love with her.”