Rosalyn and the Secret of the Bluebloods

Chapter Fourteen

  As we near the West Province, the forest is utterly silent. Every living thing that once inhabited the leafy branches and uncut grass has now either disappeared, or lies dead in the brush. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of rotting carcasses as Cass lets out a disturbing moan, limp against my back. If I don't get him nourishment fast . . .it won't just be Damien I'll lose. I sigh worriedly. My sole hope revolves around Cass' secret Blueblood society.
  If we don't fight back, Haleigh will storm into this city and take everyone, just on the remote chance that they might be a Blueblood. If she's really been sneaking around the West Province, she knows there are Bluebloods here, and she knows that they're hiding from her. I've been around her type long enough to know how they think. Damien, for all his complexity, is no exception.
  We descend the hill into the city, and I clop quietly through the dirty streets. They're . . .empty. Completely and utterly abandoned. Anxiety roils in my gut as silence looms over the broken skyscrapers. I urge my horse faster until we reach the hidden entrance to the tunnel. Dismounting, I leave Cass slumped across the mare's back, coaxing her inside. Her hooves echo softly while the torches' shadows twist and contort on the dirt walls. I reach subconsciously for my hidden dagger, only to remember I don't have it with me.
  When I finally enter the once packed room, only one person sits, brooding, on the couch. He doesn't seem to notice my arrival.
  "Hawk?" I ask warily.
  He jerks in my direction, startled.
  "It's you," he says in surprise, approaching me cautiously. His questioning gaze lands on Cass, and his eyes widen.
  "What the hell happened?" he blurts, rushing to his side.
  As he checks Cass' wrist for a pulse, Hawk glares at me suspiciously.
  "It was Clean Water Industries," I explain, biting my lip in anger. "They found out that we're Bluebloods and tried to kill us. Cass needs food and water, desperately."
  Hawk grits his teeth. "Come with me."
  I follow him deeper into the tunnels. A minute later, we arrive at a sort of storage room, with only a few water bottles and canned goods along the shelves. I crank one open as Hawk lowers Cass to the ground, pushing a bottle into his mouth. Expertly, he holds his chin up, and the blond begins to drink feverishly, throat bobbing at every swallow.
  "Cans," Hawk orders.
  I pass him the one I opened, starting on another.
  Cass obediently finishes his water and then proceeds to wolf down the peaches. The cycle continues for another five minutes or so.
  "Feel better?" Hawk asks.
  He nods, exhausted. Grunting, Hawk hoists him into his arms.
  "Come on," he says gruffly. "You two need some sleep."
  We end up in the same bed as before, but this time, we both instantly fall into darkness.
~
When I awake, the tiny cave is dark and silent.
  "Cass?" I murmur tentatively.
  No answer. Alarmed, I roll out of bed, ducking into the hallway. Only a few torches are still lit, and not a soul wanders the tunnels. Down to my left, someone argues in a hushed whisper. I creep slowly down the hall until I stand just outside the occupied room.
  "They're killing people, Hawk," a familiar voice hisses, his shadow gesturing wildly on the ground in front of me.
  It's just Cass, but for some reason, my senses are on high alert — and as he stalks in front of the entrance, I press myself into the shadow of the wall. My stomach chooses this exact moment to rumble. Wincing, I hold my breath as Cass' silhouette halts. A long, painstaking silence drags on before he walks away again.
  "I know they're killing people, Cass," Hawk snarls. "And of course I want you to survive, but this — this is the only way."
  My toes curl in fear.
  "What are you saying?" Cass asks uneasily.
  "I'm saying that I'll help you get your friend back, but I won't help take them down," Hawk clarifies, stalking closer.
  "Either you're with us or you're against us," Cass grits out.
  "I'm sorry, Cass, but my people are dying," Hawk snaps, turning on him. "If it comes to sacrificing Bluebloods I don't know versus sacrificing ones I do . . ."
  He sighs. "You're like a brother to me, Cass. I know you'd do the same."
  Before I can react, Hawk strides out of the room. Noticing me, he freezes, leveling a warning stare. His dark eyes flicker in the torch light. I stay paralyzed for a long moment until he walks away, and I can suddenly breathe again. Without warning, Cass rushes out to follow Hawk, and almost succeeds before his gaze catches mine.
  "Damn it," he sighs, knotting his fingers in his hair. "Why couldn't you have just stayed in bed?"
  I roll my eyes, stepping out of the shadows. "Are you okay?" I whisper hesitantly.
  He shrugs, letting his hands fall to his sides with a clap.
  "Is anyone?"
  I move closer, taking his hand gently.
  "I'd have been concerned if you'd said yes," I admit with a half-hearted smile.
Lowering my voice, I scan the corridor warily.
"Let's leave early tomorrow," I murmur. "Find everyone in hiding and convince them to fight back."
Cass knits his brows together. "I don't know," he replies, squeezing my hand protectively. "I don't want to put you in danger."
"I think it's a little late for that, darling," I whisper into his ear, pulling him down by the back of the neck.
As I release his hand and head back down the tunnel, his eyes bore into the back of my neck, and I can't help but smirk.
~
  We sneak out before dawn. After a light breakfast from the storage room, we take the mare I'd left there last night and clop onto the dark, silent streets.
  "Turn right," Cass orders.
  "You know where everyone is?" I ask in surprise.
  Cass wraps his arms around my waist. "I have a couple of ideas."
  He directs me to a large, rundown restaurant with an upper deck, and we dismount quietly. I tie the mare to a barstool and survey the trashed, open expanse. Broken chairs litter the ground, and to the side, stairs lead to the upper level. I jerk my head in instruction to follow. We creep up, the ancient stairs creaking under our weight. As we get closer, soft voices drift down towards us. Cass stops me with a hand on my arm, looking at me pointedly. Sighing, I let him take the lead. There's no point in arguing and giving away our position, plus, he might know these people. He grew up here, after all.
  With that thought, we arrive at the top. Dozens of people of all ages look up at us, startled, and jump to their feet threateningly. Cass raises his hands in submission and I quickly follow suit.
  "Relax," he murmurs. "We don't want any trouble. I'm one of you."
  The group looks at each other uneasily, and then back at us, taking in Cass' shirt he borrowed from Hawk, and then my long, fancy dress.
  "She's an outsider," a nearby man retorts, pointing at me with hatred in his dark, swirling eyes.
  "And she's with me," Cass says coolly.
  He sweeps his hand across the room.
  "Don't any of you recognize me?" he pleads. "I grew up here on the streets, just like you did."
  The man snorts. "And then you left us. Just disappeared into thin air."
  A muscle feathers in Cass' jaw.
  "I'm here to warn you," he remarks as he scans the quiet, fearful audience.
  "Clean Water Industries is coming for your Bluebloods," he announces loudly. "They came for Rosalyn and I, and, if we don't go after them first, they'll come for you, too."
  He takes a deep breath. "They don't know who is or isn't a Blueblood here, and that means all of you are in danger."
The crowd erupts into panicked cries. "We don't want you here!" a girl shouts angrily.
  "You're leading them straight to us!"
  The citizens begin herding us back down the stairs, pushing against me roughly. I fumble for Cass' hand in terror.
  "Hey!" someone yells over the hysteria.
  "That's enough!"
  The mob quiets, turning to glare at him, and my jaw drops in shock. Hawk stands on a large table, his feet planted aggressively apart.
  "Now move!" he snaps.
  Everyone disperses, and he jumps off the table, landing on the grimy tile with a loud thump.
  "You followed us?" Cass asks in surprise.
  "And you're lucky I did," Hawk barks in disapproval. "That lot would've had you for dinner."
  His gaze falls on our interlinked hands, and we release each other instantly.
  "Come on," Hawk growls, shoving past us down the stairs. "Before they change their minds."
  With a quick look at each other, we hurry after him.
  "What the hell were you thinking?" he fumes as we descend onto the main floor.
  "I was thinking that I want to stop the murder of dozens of innocent people," I reply, annoyed.
  "I wasn't talking to you," he states bluntly, untying the horse. "I was talking to him."
  He holds the mare's reins out to Cass, and he takes them reluctantly. I clench my fists in anger.
  "Don't speak to her like that."
  "A simple thank you would suffice."
  Cass rolls his eyes, heading for the street.
"Cass, wait," Hawk groans.
He stops without turning around.
"I'll . . .see if anyone in the tunnels wants to help rescue your friend," he says gruffly, folding his muscular arms.
Cass turns halfway, and what he utters next is more for me than it is for him.
"Thanks."
I take this word as an opportunity to join him at the mare's side, and together we head out, leaving Hawk in the restaurant.
"Cass, it's okay," I sigh, noticing the stiffness in his walk. "His heart is in the right place."
"Just like Damien's was, right?"
"What is it with you?" I snap angrily.
We stop in the street as the sun starts to climb behind the skyscrapers.
"You and I aren't dating," I continue. "We're not a couple. So why are you so jealous and possessive?"
"Because I care about you, damn it!" he blurts, stepping closer so our faces are inches apart.
I don't move, too taken aback to do anything but acknowledge the deep intent in his chocolatey eyes.
"And the thought of another man touching you keeps me up at night," he whispers, brushing back my hair softly.
"You kept me alive in there, Rosalyn."
He gazes at me desperately, looking for any sign of reciprocation. "You make me want to live."
A burning passion ignites inside me, and suddenly, neither of us can take it anymore. Our lips crash together with an undeniable desire. He cups my face urgently in his hands, and I press mine forcefully against his chest. We stay like this for a long moment before I reluctantly pull away, lowering my gaze to the cobblestone.
  "It's him, isn't it?" Cass whispers as I take shaky breaths.
  "You're still — "
  He cuts himself off, unable to say it.
  "Rosalyn," he rasps, tilting my chin up to look at him.
  "You and I . . .we're two of a kind. We understand each other in ways you and Damien never will."
  He's right, but that doesn't affect my feelings for Damien. Instead, confusion and guilt plague me, and I jerk away from his grasp.
  "I'm sorry," I murmur. "I'm — I'm not ready yet."
  "No one is asking you to commit to anything, darling," Cass says huskily. "I just don't want you to think of another man while you're pressed against my lips."
  A shiver runs down my spine as he pulls himself onto the mare.
  "You coming?"