Black Out, page 1
part #3 of 24690 Series
Black Out
24690, book 3
International Bestselling Author
A. A. Dark
Black Out
24690, book 3
International Bestselling Author
A.A Dark
Copyright © 2019 by A.A. Dark
Dedication
To all of my readers. To my girls, Dee and Nadine, who helped keep me sane and live through this series. To Amelia, Nicole, Kelli, and Devon for being such amazing betas. And a special shout out to Karen. Girl, you went above and beyond. Thank you! I LOVE YOU ALL!
All Rights Reserved
All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and is punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Prologue
24690
There were very few memories remaining from my childhood. You would think spending ten years with a family, I’d recall more than a handful of elaborate occasions with my mom and dad. Maybe it was because I didn’t see them often. Maybe due to all the trauma, I had blocked out the only good times in my life as a form of survival. As an owner and CEO, my father was always away on business. When my mother was home, she spoke more to the mirror or herself than to me. But even in the darkest times, there were things I remembered. Elements, I greedily clung to.
“I come to you today, not as the wife of Henry Davenport, owner of Northway Airlines, nor as co-owner in the world’s most luxurious cruise line, The Queen Fleet. I’m here today to talk about an important issue. A disturbing trend I see growing in our corporate community. Women these days have more freedom than we ever have. More drive to finally go after what we want. Despite our small victories here and there, we are so far from equality in the workplace. We earn less, at the same position as men, who make twice the amount. We get overlooked for promotions. We deal with harassment, sometimes facing situations that are demeaning and vile to our character…Not good enough.” She shook her head. “I have to be blunt. They have to see the truth.”
Eyes lowered in the reflection as my mother’s full lips tightened upon seeing me. She turned, crouching in her high-neck silk blouse and business trousers. Her dark hair was piled in high curls on her head, some escaping while she forced a smile. We shared the same blue eyes, but somehow today hers were darker. Sad. My mom was an angel to me. Far more beautiful than I could ever be.
“I’m not getting this right at all, but I will, Evie. I’m going to change the world, baby, so you never have to put up with the things I do. You watch and see. Mommy’s going to pave the road for women all over this world. No one is ever going to tell you you can’t do anything. I promise.”
I couldn’t have been more than six years old that day. It was one of the memories I could recall of my mother directly addressing me before I was kidnapped and trafficked to Whitlock at the age of ten. What she would never know is the impact her words left on me. How each time she spoke, her strength seeded into my young mind, growing stronger through all the times I was knocked down and beat by men. Raped by men. Being a slave didn’t give me much to work with in terms of making a statement like she did in the real world, but I did my best when I was forced to marry West Harper, the murdering Main Master of Whitlock. Although he wasn’t who unlocked her personality in me, he gave me a position where I could test my skills. And it was all the fuel I needed to try to follow in my family’s footsteps. The Davenport powerhouse in me blossomed. I learned. I got better. I got myself into lots of trouble. Love for Bram Whitlock almost ruined everything.
When Bram returned as Main Master and begged me on the tarmac not to leave, I knew my mother would die in me if I listened. I’d never get a taste of freedom or equality had I returned. Love could kill everything. It would keep me a slave forever. So, I left love. I killed Bram’s scouts and anyone who got in my way. I even secretly returned on occasion to the hell I’d escaped from. But my love never faded through all his months of searching. After our back-and-forths, I saw my growing authority win over the man who obsessively loved me too. He bent his rules for a slave. He offered me the unthinkable. He gave me my biggest accomplishment to date: he kept me, a traitor to Whitlock, hidden from his world when it wasn’t allowed. I loved him even more for that. But we had both ended up paying for his choices, and it was up to me to set things straight.
“Ms. Harper, we land in D. C. in fifteen minutes.”
My eyes left the darkness outside my jet’s window. I glanced at my main guard, Luke, taking a deep breath as he eyed me warily. “Is everyone ready?”
“The reporters are in place. We’re gunned-up and on alert just in case.”
The steady pounding in my chest sped up as I nodded. My mother’s voice kept coming back to me. Her words, more important than she’d ever know.
“Mom? Why are crying? Is dad not coming home?”
My voice caught her off-guard, and she quickly wiped away the tears. “He’s on his way, sweetheart. It’s not your dad. It’s…” The anger returned as she began to pace the kitchen floor. I pulled out my homework, surprised to see her home.
“What is it? Did…I do something?”
“You? Of course not. It was a friend. I thought I could trust them with my idea. I was wrong. They stole it.”
“That wasn’t very nice of them.”
“No. People aren’t really nice, Everleigh. Not unless they want something. Sometimes they do very bad things to get them.” She paused, looking over me as she weighed her words. “You’re almost ten. You’re a smart girl. I’m going to let you in on a little secret, okay?’
“Okay.”
My mother came to the table, sitting and grabbing my hands as she stared deep into my gaze. In that moment, I felt special. Privileged to gain her attention and advice. People paid a lot of money for my mother’s opinion, and she was going to share herself with me.
“You’ll be going to a new school soon. Time is going to fly. Be careful who you get close to. Trust slowly. Listen eagerly. Talk only when you believe in what you have to say, and only if you know it to be the truth. Never break your word to those loyal to you, but never believe loyalty is unbreakable. It is our friends that will be the first to hurt us. React gracefully. You’re a Davenport. Someone is always watching. The way the world sees you is a mirror of how you see yourself. Let them see nothing but love. Then, when they’re not looking…drop the match and burn them to the ground.”
Chapter 1
Bram
There was this thing about humanity, about life, and emotion. Almost everyone felt a degree of love or hate. Maybe it was greed or rage. Seven and a half billion people on the planet, each experiencing a mass of emotions due to actions they could or could not control. It was the cause of miracles…of genocide. Emotion controlled everything, especially us.
Whitlock had seen its fair share from those who mattered. From my board, who was hell bent to hunt down my slave, to the guards and high leader who had their growing insatiability to take over Whitlock for themselves. To me…love, greed, suspicion. My emotions were vast. What I had even more of though was secrets. I had so many. Some would come out. Others would follow me to my grave. Maybe sooner than later. Overall, none mattered. Nothing existed for me but twenty-four-six-ninety.
Over the months, we’d play cat and mouse. She ran; I located her. She’d leave and kill my scouts before I could close in. I’d rage. At first it was aggravating. I was on the edge. Angry. But then I started receiving my gifts. The skinned faces of my scouts in a white box with red bows didn’t make me happy, but the messages she attached to them did. She loved me, and with each little wisp of sentiments, I felt her claws dig deeper into my heart.
Time passed; I got closer. I found her.
Athens hadn’t ended well. Not for me, not for her, and not for the girl-slave and her twin, twenty-seven-o-eleven. Everleigh got burned pretty badly before Luke, her main protector, escaped with her. And it was all my fault. One way or another, I never learned. Or did I?
I may have failed to physically get my slave, but in ways, I had her more than ever. And that landed her right back here. Right in my arms. It was one night. Six hours and forty-two minutes, to be exact, but one night that I had Everleigh to myself. In truth, after all these months of her on the run, she shouldn’t have been at Whitlock to begin with. I knew the risks when I broke our law and accepted a traitor’s secret return. But what was I to do, reject the possibility of seeing her again? Kissing her, or smelling her sweet scent? Never. Everleigh wanted this—wanted me, and I was done chasing her away. For too long, I’d been my own worst enemy. It was the reason she’d run from me to begin with. The time had come to change my ways and leave fate up to someone other than myself. Faith was never a friend, but I had to believe my slave’s motives included me.
Emotions. Perhaps they were the downfall of us all.
I crushed my lips into Everleigh’s for only a moment before I pulled back. The way she kept checking her phone, something was wrong. And that wouldn’t fair well for either of us. We were in trouble. Or, I was. I knew that the moment I climbed out of bed with her. Maybe I didn’t want to believe. Maybe my obsession clouded my need to care. All I could see was her…and she was worried.
“What’s
Everleigh glanced at her new slave, Eleven. Tears were still streaming down his face. He belonged to her now and was planning to leave with her so they could go after his sister. It wasn’t the right thing to do, but I was past the point of giving a shit. My cards were tumbling down just like I had predicted they would. Time wasn’t on my side. Not anymore. And it was my fault. I should have put a stop to things weeks ago. Days ago. Hours.
“The high leader just left the barracks. He’s on his way. Be careful.” Her unease sent heat through my blood. She rushed from the room for only seconds. When she returned, she was throwing her robe over her shoulders. I lifted the hood, my kiss more desperate as I pressed my lips into hers. It was a joining of passion and sadness as we broke away. Neither of us said a word as she grabbed Eleven’s arm and pulled him to the door. She paused to wave to Alvin, giving me one last sorrowful glance. And just like that, the love of my life disappeared just as fast as she’d returned to Whitlock.
I didn’t have the power to speak in that moment. If I had, I might have rushed and called after her. One last kiss. One last touch. But no. I gestured with my finger for Nineteen to lock the deadbolt. Everleigh had gone. It wasn’t safe for her to stay. Not yet.
“I’m afraid there’s more, Main Master.”
“More?”
“Yes.” Scout Nineteen took a deep breath. “The super archbishop. He’s dead.”
A groan left me. “You or Eleven?”
“The slave. He witnessed a girl getting thrown out of the apartment. It set him off. I tried to stop him but…guards came. They didn’t know what happened, but at some point, the Master will be found.”
A good minute or two went by as a coverup weaved through my mind. “I’ll take care of it. Is that all?”
“Barclane knows I’m still here. He cornered me and the slave. I told him a big story about how I was working with an unnamed source on the Mistress’s location. He believes I’m using Eleven as bait to lure her out. I forcefully left the situation. He accepted my story, but I suspect he doesn’t believe me.”
“Of course he doesn’t.” I put my hand on Nineteen’s shoulder and led the scout towards the hallway. “I’m aware you made a deal with Everleigh on my safety, but for now, I need you to hide. Go up these stairs,” I stopped in front of them, “and do not come down until the high leader leaves. If for some reason—”
Banging erupted on the door, causing both of our heads to whip over. I pushed Nineteen up the step and threw him a look as I turned and headed for the door. Loud knocking slammed into the metal and I gave Ms. Pat a look as she took Alvin and rushed to his bedroom. The moment he was safe, I swung open the barrier. Deep pants were coming from Derek, and he didn’t pause as he pushed past me.
“Where is she? I know she was here. I know her slave came into your quarters as well.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“Bullshit! Did you really think you could reroute my guards off the field and I wouldn’t know? She was spotted leaving and no one was there to intercept her. She escaped again, and this time it’s on you. Guards!”
Four men eased into the room, trepidation following their every step. Their eyes wouldn’t meet mine, but they didn’t have to for me to know their intentions. I glared at Derek, seething as he met my stare head-on.
“Bram Whitlock, you are under arrest for harboring and aiding in the escape of fugitives. You will go to the White Room, where you will await sentencing from the board. However long that should take. As of now, Martial Law will go into effect. Whitlock belongs to the guards. To me.”
“Does it?” Two guards came up behind to grab my hands but paused as I threw them a murderous glare. “If I remember correctly, the new law states—”
“Twenty-Four-six-ninety and those slaves are fugitives!”
“Were fugitives. Eleven and Nineteen escaped the White Room. They’re to be returned to Slave Row. Everleigh will face the board if she ever returns.”
“She did return. You let her leave. You aided in her escape.”
I let a few seconds pass as I gave Derek time to calm. I needed him to think. To not overreact and do something rash. “Whitlock runs very much like its own country. It has laws, and those laws tie in to our board, which is very much like a courthouse. Once upon a time, I was a lawyer. I have to ask, do you have evidence that I committed this crime?”
“Are you denying that she was here, or that the slaves came into your apartment posing as guards? What about taking my men off the field so they could get away?”
“If she was here, would I have let her leave? As for taking the men off the field, I admit that. We needed more guards at the doors. You even told me how great their promotions were. Did you not? Then, the slaves escaped. I didn’t have the time to put them back on the field. It didn’t seem important at the time.”
“I told you what you did was great before I realized you let those slaves escape the White Room to reclaim their status! They should have gone back to their cells. They should have been killed! But, no. You were going to return them to Slave Row. Instead, you sent them off with that traitor slave of yours.”
I had my knife in my hand before I could stop myself. The guards behind me tensed, clearly confused on what to do.
“I warned you not to call her that.”
“And I warned you what would happen if you broke the law. What are you planning to do with that knife, Bram? Are you going to kill me too? Are you going to kill us all?”
The blood pulsing in my ears quieted as I reigned in the rage. “Of course not. I broke no law. I told you, she was never here. As for the traitor part, that’s not for you to decide. It’s up to the board. By right, she can leave when she wants. But the circumstances are special. She’s a Mistress. She was under West Harper’s influence. What he did while they were married messed up her mind. There’s a lot of contributing factors that have to be weighed before she’s found guilty or not. Right now, we’re all closing in and she’s cornered. She may still come to her senses and turn herself in. Maybe that’s what she was trying to do before you scared her away. How am I to know?”
Derek shook his head as he narrowed his lids even more.
“You are a piece of work. On and on you go with lies, but I’m done listening to them. She was here. She was in this apartment, and you broke the law. Guards.”
I jerked my hand free of the grasp, pointing my knife at a man no older than twenty-five.
“I’d like to see the evidence before I let you take me anywhere. If you can show me beyond a shadow of a doubt that I let Everleigh into my apartment, and then let her leave, I’ll walk to the White Room myself.”
“I have two guards that say they saw her leave your apartment with the slaves.”
“That’s a lie. And hear-say. I guarantee if they saw her, they sure as hell wouldn’t be alive to tell about it. That’s not how she works. I have the faces of scouts to prove it. Now leave my apartment, High Leader, before I find someone who knows how to do your job. You’re grasping at straws. You’re either being paranoid or played. Martial Law will not happen today. I’ve committed no crime.”
Derek stood straighter, his jaw clenching through his anger.
“Let’s pull up the feed. Show me the tapes from when she was here.”
“While I’m pulling it up, should we pull up Medical too? Maybe we’ll bring up your conversation with a certain Master concerning my heir, Alvin? How convenient after your whispers, you walk away to leave him with a sick, pedophile, fuck like Master Hunt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I got intel we had intruders. I had no time to waste. For all I knew, we were being breached by the outside, and it could have been anyone.”
I grabbed the younger guard, dragging him to the door next to Derek.
“The only ones who pose a threat to Whitlock are the Masters who hope to use you to gain power. They’re twisting you, Derek. They’re fucking with your head because that’s what they do. I didn’t almost die for nothing. You saw how that went down. You usually have good judgement, but not today. I’ve kept you at my side because I trust you. I have to admit, I’m starting to find that a little hard. Think about the example you’re setting. Where’s your evidence for accusing me of anything? What sort of high leader comes and lashes out at his Main Master without certainty that he’s right? Is this what the guards of Whitlock should see? Is this the character of someone they should look up to?”
