Volumes of the Vemreaux Complete Collection: A Dystopian Adventure Trilogy, page 49
The sound came from all around her, even behind the couch. Sam explained surround sound to keep her from leaving his side to inspect the various scattered sources. King Sinclair began to talk about unity and how happy he was that all three great powers in the world could come together and face this foe. Their cooperation in searching each Way facility for the Light was praised. He spoke of caution, decreeing that he was not sending in whole search parties because they still did not know enough of their enemy. Then there was more fluff about a future plan to move the O-bloods to a plot of land in Asia. The entire speech ran about twenty minutes, and it was beautifully executed. His kind black brow arched and relaxed with the fall of emotion in his voice. His early forty-something handsome face did its best to convey the proper amount of respect and hurt for those missing or found dead.
When the time came for the king to take a break, the two hosting reporters began speaking into the camera, rehashing everything they’d just heard while they all waited for the king to come back out for a question and answer period with the press. Alec turned the sound back down.
Liam huffed. “Well, at least he didn’t mention Killian among the deceased. That’s something.”
“Of course not,” Alec offered. “Killian just missed his check-in. Nothing’s been confirmed, yet. No sign of foul play.”
Sam noticed how Blue’s indifferent expression clashed with everyone else’s. “Did you understand everything?” he asked her, in case some of the politics went over her head.
Frederick stood up when his phone rang and went to the back of the room to answer it.
Blue asked a question instead of answering his, hoping that the emperor was out of hearing range, or at the very least, distracted by his phone call. “Was he an actor before he was king? I always wondered.”
“I think so. Way before I was even born. How’d you guess?” He eyed her, trying again to figure out the odd pathways her brain took to get to the truth.
“Nothing. He just thinks he’s good at lying, is all. I wondered where the confidence came from.” Sam’s stiffening distracted her from noticing Liam and Alec’s alertness to their conversation.
“What are you talking about? You’re saying the king was lying just then?”
“Will I get in trouble for saying so?” she questioned.
Sam considered this, glancing behind him to make sure Frederick was distracted. “Not in this room, no. But anywhere else, maybe. What makes you think he’d lie about anything? Politicians aren’t known for lying anymore, Blue. That’s the old way of things before the Vemreaux took over. Politicians are probably the only trustworthy ones left.”
“Not that one.” She shook her head at the image of King Sinclair on the television. “Everybody knows it, Sam.”
“Who’s everybody?” he challenged.
“Baird, Elle, Grettel, Griffin. Everybody.” The thought of them wounded her confidence as she winced. “We used to be able to watch the big important speeches like this in The Way on Peace Day. We talked about it all the time. I mean, how could you not see his tells? He’s clearly hiding something about the island. It’s not to protect the O-bloods. Give me a break! I could be blindfolded and still see that much. He’s got his own agenda for wanting the island evacuated.”
Sam pulled back to stare at her, and she noticed for the first time that the conversations around her had died down. “Okay, so what are his tells, then? I can’t believe you think he’s lying, Blue. You’re wrong.” He shook his head at her attempt to protest. “I know you’re used to being right about these things, but you’re wrong. Plain and simple, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?” She shifted next to him uncomfortably. Killer, sure. Freak, of course. But sweetheart? Elle and Grettel were the only ones who called her such soft pet names. His thumb coasted over hers slowly and she shivered. Blue recalled her surroundings, stiffening from the puddle he was turning her into with a single movement of his thumb. “I don’t mind being wrong about things, but I’m not wrong about this, Sam. Watch his chin. It moves to the left every time he’s covering something up.” She dropped his hand to motion to the screen, which was still showing the reporters’ recap. The butterflies in her stomach relented slightly.
“So? People turn their heads to the left all the time. It doesn’t mean they’re lying.” Sam pointed to his chin, making her let out a short bubble of laughter. “See? I’m doing it right now, and I’m not lying.”
“Your tell’s not your chin pointing left, Sam,” she reminded him, rolling her eyes. “Watch him. Every time he talks about the island or how confident he is in the new facilities, his chin’ll turn left.” She waved her hands in front of her like an orator, moving his clasped one along with hers, much to her own entertainment. “He talks with his hands like this to distract people, so they don’t know when he’s lying.”
“So what’s Sam’s tell?” Brody inquired, leaning forward.
“It’s not fiddling with the hem of your shirt or grinding your teeth like yours is. I can tell you that much.” She shot a quick glance over at Brody in time to see Liam erupt with laughter.
The prince sat up straight. “Do me! Do me!”
“How many times can you say that in one day before you’re considered easy?” Brody squabbled, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“You know you’re just jealous. Blue and I have this steamy connection, but we all know you want her out of the picture so you can have my full attention.” He lifted his shirt up to his chest in what was supposed to be a seductive shimmy, but ended up leaving him open to Brody’s hard shove to the floor.
Blue laughed along with them, happy to be included like she belonged in the very exclusive group. It had been a lonely adjustment period, but the lightheartedness made all the difference. “Liam, you touch your nose when you lie or you’re uncomfortable. You don’t lie very often, though. I mean, unless you count bravado as lying, which I don’t.”
“It’s not bravado if it’s true, baby,” Liam countered from the floor as he grabbed onto Brody’s shin and pulled him off the couch to wrestle. Their exchange was nothing like sparring. It was purely for enjoyment and to air some of their pent-up aggression. They even laughed while they were entangled. Blue thought it looked like fun, and cheered Liam on from the sidelines.
“Tell me when the question and answer portion comes on,” Frederick requested as he walked over to the second couch, making sure to give the wrestling bears enough space so he did not get knocked over. “Alec, can I see you for a moment?”
Alec rose, wiping the grin off his face, and wishing he could witness who would get pinned first. He followed the emperor into the kitchen and left Brody to pin Liam without his appropriate fanfare. Brody stood up on his knees and raised his fists in the air to declare himself the winner, grinning at the polite applause from the grandstand on the floor. Blue learned plenty about both of them by watching this exchange. Though she had known before how to take each of them down, she mentally shaved five seconds off the imagined duels. Baird would have been proud.
It was the seventh time she’d thought about the people she’d left back home in less than an hour, which was intolerable. Some sort of self-flagellation must intervene to disrupt this reoccurring weakness. “Is it okay if I go for a run?” she asked, standing up abruptly.
Sam frowned. “Right now?”
“Yeah.” Blue started toward the stairs. “I’ll stay along the driveway.”
Liam and Sam exchanged concerned glances. The prince scratched his head. “Um, you’ll want to avoid the whole front of the house. It’s a big night with the king’s speech and all, so there’s bound to be some cameras camped out already. You can go jog, but stay behind the privacy fence.” He shook his head as he stood to join her. “I’ll show you.”
She told Liam to wait until she could grab her running shoes and tuck away her uniform polo in her sack. The white tank top and jean shorts were not the most comfortable things to run in, but they were all she had, and complaining was not in her bones.
All the time she was changing, Blue tried to push out thoughts of her family back home and how she would never see them again. Baird’s solemn face scolded her for allowing such unproductive emotions. Elle’s smile surfaced in her memory, but it did not shine as brightly as it would in person. And Grettel, poor Grettel. Worry twisted Blue’s gut when she thought of how small and meek the girl was. Now that Blue was in a different country altogether, there was no way she could keep her safe, or any of them, for that matter. Griffin’s angry words of hatred plagued her, his youthful zeal causing her hands to shake as she laced up her sneakers.
Blue exhaled, pressing her fingers into the plush white carpet to steady them. She knew that if she could not push her family out of her mind, quaking limbs would be the least of her worries. The full-body tremors that she knew were coming were polite enough to wait until she was out of the house to take her over.
When she rejoined the boys in one of the mansion’s many living rooms, the three were standing, watching the television with such forced attention that she guessed they had been talking about her before she came down.
“You ready, kitten?” Liam tore his eyes from the screen to look down at her. Again, she was hiding her face. All the progress he thought they were making with her when they were all joking around a few minutes earlier disappeared. He led her out through the many twisting hallways to the back of the house and out the door. He pointed half a kilometer to the left where a large horse track and barn rested. “You can run on that track, yeah? Just stay on it so Josephine doesn’t catch you. She can’t see the track from her room. The trees hide it from that part of the house pretty well.”
Blue did not respond, but moved past Liam quickly, so he would not see the bubbling up of emotions that threatened her calm.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, trying to be brotherly.
This only opened the wound further. She knew that her self-control would last minutes more at most. “Your dad knows something’s weird about me. I’m pretty sure he heard you yelling for me to not break Brody’s arm while you were on the phone with him in your room earlier. He knows I don’t smell Wayward. And I’m thinking he’ll make too much out of what I thought about the reporters. It’s best if I’m not around him.”
Liam’s hand found the back of his neck as he looked down guiltily. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to tell him sooner or later. I’ve been trying all day to get us on the roster to fly out, but I can’t swing it. And after the king’s speech? I don’t see a way around telling him, Blue. I’m sorry, believe me.”
“Okay.” Blue responded without taking the time to consider all of the possible repercussions.
“Okay? That’s it?” He looked wary at her immediate acceptance. “Sam’s right. That is annoying.”
“Sam thinks I’m annoying?” she questioned, unable to mask her hurt.
Liam’s eyes lit as he backpedaled. “No! No, that’s not what I meant. Sam fancies you. Over the moon for you. You have to know that.”
Blue stood in front of him with her head facing off to the side. “Could I just…could I not be there for the whole big thing? I’ll be in after a while. Could you tell him while I’m out? He seems like a nice Vemreaux. I’d really like to put off being stared at like I’m a freak as long as I can.”
Liam did not trust her reaction. After her outburst at Brody, all of them were a little afraid of her sudden turns in temper that they could not predict. Knowing how inhumanly strong she was did not quiet their fears that they had, in fact, taken on more than they could handle. “Sure. Blue, do you…” he began, but the girl turned from him before the entire sentence could exit his mouth. She ran toward the track at a pace matching a cheetah’s.
For two straight hours, her arms and legs pumped through the pain in her chest that surfaced each time she fought off a thought of those she’d left in the Americas. It was well after dark, and she wondered if that would be her first and last sunset as a free woman. Though Frederick seemed a kind man, in her he would possess an extraordinary amount of power. That much power in the wrong hands could be catastrophic, and could perhaps mean that she had traveled all this way for nothing more than to be his prize pig who could earn ooh’s and ahs by bench pressing more than a Vemreaux for cheap photos and careful study. Baird had spent much time warning her about who was allowed to see her abilities. The groan when he’d learned that Liam was royalty was genuine. It was one of his worst fears for his sister. He always pounded into her that “power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Liam, and now his father, were the closest she’d come to seeing the full grasp of absolute power.
In the isolation of the night, she wished her brother was with her. Many times in The Way, just after he’d been bought, she shook in her bed at night trying to suppress the horrible absence left by the only person who truly understood how to deal with her and handle her strength. But even then there was hope that she would have her family back again. Bereft of such optimism now, it made each recollection unbearable with its pain.
Ever since completing her first turn around the lengthy track, she closed her eyes and ran as fast as she would allow herself to be caught. The movement ironed out any trembling that threatened her composure. So lost in the battle with her thoughts was she that she only noticed that she was not alone when the scent of several conflicting colognes and deodorants wafted out to her in the night. Slowing her break-neck speed, Blue leaned over to catch her breath before lifting her head to confirm that five sets of eyes were watching her.
When she reentered the house, she walked past all of their concerned and distrustful faces without looking up or speaking. She did not want to know the emperor’s reaction to his new knowledge of her. In their few encounters, she found that she liked him, and that he was a good person. If such a man could not accept her after finding out what she was, she did not think she could bear it. Blue ran up the many winding stairs and took a hot shower.
7
Frederick
The melancholy piano music greeted Blue when she emerged from the bathroom, glad to rid herself of the thick sheen of sweat. No one was waiting to escort her, and judging by the silence from the next room, she guessed they were all downstairs somewhere. She changed into a clean uniform and jean shorts, looking the same as she had that morning, except for the damp hair that the thick towel managed to dry most of.
Slowly, as if she were walking to her own trial, she dragged her feet down, step by carpeted step, until she heard voices. They were not coming from the same direction as the music, and Blue could only hope that meant the boys had changed their minds about telling the emperor. Brody and Sam were sitting at the tall stools in the main kitchen, picking at the same green jello from the night before and sharing a plate of salt and vinegar chips. Blue’s stomach ached to be filled, but she said nothing and remained unassuming with her head bowed behind them.
Sam noticed her first and held his hand out to bring her closer. The strong arm wrapped around her ribs and pulled her to his side, forcing him to eat with one hand, which seriously stunted his chip intake. Though her initial reaction was to stiffen in his partial embrace, eventually her shoulders began to relax. He said nothing of her hesitation, which Blue was grateful for.
Liam joined them with a plate of unaged, perfectly edible human food from the fridge and took a large bite out of his loaded corned beef sandwich before deciding that it was the right time for a conversation. The beef and sauerkraut rolled around in his mouth, and Blue wondered at what point a chunk would to fall out onto the floor. “Dad said to send you to see him once you got out of the shower. He knows everything, so don’t bother holding out on him.”
Sam rose from the stool, but Liam shook his head. “He wants to talk with her and Alec alone, Sam.” When the Vemreaux made it clear by his wary expression that he did not like this arrangement one bit, Liam sighed. “She can barely open her mouth in front of us as it is. It won’t exactly be easy for her with more of an audience. Plus, royal decree and all.” Sam glared at Liam as if he’d very much like to shove the rest of the sandwich up his nose, but sat back down on the stool with a harrumph.
“You don’t have to go, you know. We can answer all of Uncle Freddy’s questions, no problem,” Sam offered, sensing her discomfort.
Blue shook her head and pulled out of his reach. “S’okay.” Sam mumbled something under his breath, but Blue was already following the music. The sad, methodical melody twisted around the dark and haunting lull of the harmony with a grace that the angry accompaniment did not possess. When she reached the room, she found the door open and Alec waiting inside for her while the emperor played his heartrending song.
Never in her entire life had Blue seen the wonder that was Frederick’s piano. There was a half-page picture in her history book that showed a cluster of instruments all together with no label as to what each one was. The piano was mammoth and glorious in its shining ebony splendor. There were white sticks with black ones intermingled in a pattern that the emperor forced into submission. The man’s hands were so powerful that none protested the bow that shoved them toward the ground. His right hand played the melody so gently and delicately that it seemed a lover’s stroke as his fingers flitted over the black and white. The left hand acted completely other. It pounded and showed no mercy to the accompaniment as fingers crossed over each other so fast that Blue could barely keep up. The thrilling sounds captivated her as her eyes flicked rapidly back and forth. Blue tried to memorize the complicated movements of Frederick’s capable hands. The large lump in her throat that she’d tried to run out of her system now throbbed painfully as she forced herself to maintain some sort of composure and not lose her carefully clutched emotions to the music.
