Expiration Date (Books 1 and 2)

54 Fooled

Erik~~

When I open the back of the van in Cinderville, I find Jonas's arm wrapped in badges that are soaked through in blood.

He opens his eyes, looking lost.

The other rebels who were in the van are now in another part of the garage, waiting for Thomas to come up out of the bunkers.

Vienna's in a corner of the van, her knees pulled to her chest.

They haven't seen what she's done.

I tremble, my hands tightening around the edges of the doors.

The Amoris call me filthy names that are much worse than traitor.

"How could you?" My eyes return to Vienna.

"He's your cousin, Erik. You can't use him as blackmail."

"And what is he to you? Not your future brother-in-law."

"Erik." It's the first time I've heard Jonas speak since our fight. I can't look away from his bloodied arm. He was the main objective and now that work is down the drain. We have no Date to sell to Elleany's enemies. Nothing to threaten the Society with. Yes, they'll want him back, but without a Mark, our bargaining power has plunged.

"I hope that hurts like hell."

He winces, trying to shift on the ground. "You have no idea."

"Let's see what you brought back." Thomas says as he and a group of five rebels, L, Afreen, and Anya included, step around the back of the van.

Some suck in sharp breaths. Others swear.

"Vienna." L grips one of the doors. "What have you done?"

Vienna stares at L with eyes that might as well be dead for how little emotion they show.

Thomas rolls his chair. "Lock her in a cell until I'm ready to deal with her."

Afreen climbs into the van and drags Vienna out. Anya grabs hold of her, and they both haul her away.

"How could you do this to your family?" the male Amoris asks me, his voice trembling.

"I take it it was your Mark Vienna sent me." When I had asked for Jonas's, Vienna sent me a picture of what I thought was his.

Thomas rubs his hands together as if he's already forgotten about what Vienna did. "These are them?" I nod. "There are three though?"

"It was an unexpected development."

"Maybe we could trade one of them for the three of us they captured. Surely the Society would agree that a one to three trade is more than fair when an Amoris is involved."

At the word Amoris, the three Amorians widen their eyes, and they try to shirk back as if they can't believe I'd share that secret.

"Take them all to the cells," Thomas says. "Erik, come with me."

"Erik," Jonas calls as I follow Thomas. "Erik."

I keep walking, heading down into the base, his voice continuing to chase after me; even when I'm too far away to hear him, his voice echoes in my head.

Erik.

Erik.

Erik.

I follow Thomas into his bunker.

He takes a seat at the table, too calmly.

"I didn't think she had it in her. To slice up an arm."

Thomas holds up a hand. "We still have the Amoris, don't forget that."

"What are you going to do with her?"

"I'll confine her to a bunker."

"You're not going to keep her in a cell?"

Shaking his head, he rests his hands on the table. "Her parents are the rebellions' most important allies. I am not going to risk angering them by keeping their daughter locked up in a cell, especially not after they just took such a risk to get you into the Estate."

"But she's made it clear she's not on our side."

"No, I don't think she has. If she was against our plan, she would have warned the Society when you left her in the garage."

"And implicate her family?"

Leaning back in the seat, he takes a deep breath. "I'm sure she could have figured someway around that. And once you were on your way back, she may not have been able to open the doors, but she could at the very least have unshackled them and given them the chance to fight back."

He motions to the chair across from him. "Take a seat."

"There are things we need to do."

"Exactly. There's a lot to discuss, so sit."

It's not until I do that he continues.

"We'll need to examine the Preeminence's Mark. See what the extent of the damage she caused is and if we can see past it. We also need to draft a letter to send to the Society."

"This soon?"

"We'll hold off sending it, but we'll need to decide what we're revealing and what we're demanding. So"—he stands and heads for a small desk, pulling out a pencil and paper—"where should we begin?"