Book four in The Borders War series
Whether Armise lived or died was never supposed to matter to Merq.
As the fight for the kids of the jacquerie begins and the war between Opposition and Revolution heightens, Merq discovers that he may not have as much control over his actions as he thought he did. Further complicating their tangled relationship, Armise may be just as compromised.
Desperate to learn the truth, Merq and Armise put themselves directly in the path of a powerful enemy. They’ve spent fifteen years of their lives on the knife’s edge of trust and loyalty. What they learn about each other’s pasts—and what it means for their future—will bring them together or definitively tear them apart.
Merq’s life has always been at risk—one bullet away from death in sacrifice of his mission. As his focus begins to shift, Merq may be too late to understand what, and who, is most important in his life.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of graphic violence, forced genetic modification, genetic experimentation, genetic experimentation on children and torture.
General Release Date: 19th January 2016
Year 2560
Merq Grayson’s 36th year
The Continental States’ capital
Armise grabbed my arm, grinding us to a halt as we exited the Capitol Building after our briefing with President Simion and Exley. “You cannot think I knew those camps were happening.”
I shook my head. “I don’t. And I don’t think it’s your fault either.”
Armise released me, his fingertips brushing down my arm, then he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You may be the only one. Including me.”
“Guilt is unproductive. Move on from it.” I cocked my head in the direction of the ocean and began walking. “We have work to do.”
“After the funeral?”
I swallowed around the tightening of my throat. Forgoing Wensen Kersch’s funeral wasn’t going to make accepting the reality of his death any easier. But there were other, more important, places I needed to be. “We’re not going to the rites. I mourn for the man I knew. The one they’re burying today is a stranger. The president would’ve wanted me—wanted us—to D3 those camps definitively.”
“Then that is what we will do. Where are we going?”
“To see Priyessa. Simion said she’s at her house in the city. I want to talk to her before we make any tactical decisions.”
“Tell me you brought weapons.”
“I’m not going in there without them.” I handed him the extra pistol I’d grabbed before we’d left the capitol, making sure that he carried a sonic and I had a real one. Of course, I carried my knives too. But they were always on my body. Hidden away, but at the ready.
We crossed through the city, the wind picking up as we got closer to the ocean. Even though it was May there was a chill to the air. Armise would be able to withstand the sudden drop in temperature with ease. I, on the other hand, started to shiver.
“Nervous?” Armise asked as he took in the uncontrolled shake of my hands.
“Fucking cold,” I snapped at him.
Armise seemed to consider this. “Some of my genetmods are more useful than others.”
I hummed in response. “Think you could ratchet up your core a bit to make me more comfortable?”
“I am your human fire,” he replied with a sarcastic bite, but I could already feel the heat coming off him.
I took a step closer to him, our arms brushing as we walked.
We took the full force of the wind when we slipped around the corner. The waves were wild, white froths of water crashing against the black barriers that separated the ocean from the residences lining the shore.
We were on our way to find out what Priyessa had learned about Tiam, the PsychHAg who’d gone rogue and was working in the Opposition hybrid camps, and the weather matched the anger churning inside me at the thought of what the kids from the jacquerie were enduring at his hands. The residential building in front of me was a visual reminder of just how unfair our world was. Priyessa’s building was a soaring glass and polymaterial structure that bent over the ocean at an unnatural angle—as if it were boasting that the immutable forces of gravity and tidal surges would never be able to touch it.
The entrance to the lobby of her building was unlocked and there was a line of guards on each side of the entryway. The building was home to many prominent and wealthy citizens. Of course it was heavily guarded. We kept the safest in our society protected from those who only wanted a fair chance at survival.
I sneered at the overt power display, pulling my shoulders back as we were approached by one of the men. He ran a calculated gaze over our Revolution uniforms and his finger came off the trigger of his rifle. He looked at the insignia marking my rank, which I wore surrounding the seal. “What can I do for you, Colonel?”
“We’re here to see Priyessa Niaz. She’s expecting us. Merq Grayson and Armise Darcan.”
“I know who you are.” He tilted his head in the direction of another guard who spoke softly into his comm.
The guard held out his hand. “Gentlemen, I need your weapons.”
“Fuck no,” I replied immediately.
“Sorry, Colonel. No exceptions. With our clientele and the death of the president I’m sure you understand we have to take extraordinary precautions. They’ll be here when you leave.” He gestured to Armise’s hip. “Your knife too.”
Armise handed over his knife and pistol and shrugged. “She’s a PsychHAg. If she wants to harm us then weapons aren’t going to do us much good.”
I gave a gruff exhalation of displeasure and handed over my own gun. But I didn’t touch any of my hidden knives. If they didn’t have adequate scanning to know that I was carrying anything else then I wasn’t going to tell them.
The guard placed Armise’s knife and the guns on a table and pointed to the lifts. “One hundred and sixtieth floor.”
We stepped into the lifts and the doors closed, shutting us inside and amping up my anxiety. The lift moved upward in a quiet rush, rising above the concrete foundation walls and revealing a wall of glass that overlooked the ocean. I kept my focus locked to the rolling waves, cresting off into the horizon, instead of on the tightness of the space I occupied. The lift slid to a stop within seconds, opening directly into Priyessa’s home.
We walked into one large room with windows that ran the length of the two walls facing the ocean. It was a sleek apartment, with refined touches of metal and stone. Gray walls and furniture in the tarnished silver and cobalt that I associated with Singapore. It set my teeth on edge.
“This is the definition of luxurious,” Armise whispered next to me, alluding to our conversation in the AmFed earlier that day. That memory felt like eons ago and not hours.
There was the sound of flames crackling, whooshing as they ate up oxygen, and I turned to find the wall to the right separating the living room from the galley was a sheet of fire climbing from the floor to an unseen groove in the ceiling. But where was Priyessa? Her guards wouldn’t have let us up if she hadn’t approved our presence.
My survival instincts kicked into overdrive and I drew one of my knives, palming the cold steel. Beside me Armise tensed and reached for the place where his knife normally would be had it not been confiscated by the guards. I slipped another knife from a hidden pocket and handed it to him. It didn’t have the substantial weight of the one he was used to carrying, but it would have to be enough.
I sleep little, read a lot. Happiest in a foreign country. Twitchy when not mentally in motion. My name is Sam, not Sammy, definitely not Samantha. I’m a pretty dark/cynical/jaded person, but I hide that darkness well behind my obsession(s) for shiny objects. I’m the macabre wrapped in irresistible bubble wrap and a glittery pink bow, I suppose.
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