Chapter 16: Taran

"What?" I gasp, staring at him in dismay. Didn't he come here to rescue me? To take me back home, to my sector. To the slums.

"I need you to go back to Fuentes. For some reason he's become obsessed by you, obsessed by the legend. We need to take advantage of this and set you up in his care as a plant."

"You. We!" I hiss at him, poking him in the chest. "What about me? I don't particularly want to die, Xavier. And I was steps away from a death sentence in there."

I'm hurt that he's willing to send me back into such a dangerous situation. I may be his separated wife, but I thought we cared more about each other than this. My mind flashes to Diogo. Even the few hours I spent with him showed me an entirely different character. A man that was protective, almost overly so. I clench my hand around the cut on my palm. He'd taken care of me, shown some small amount of tenderness. Xavier has always been too committed to the cause to put my needs above the rebellion. Above his own. And while I'm also committed to the cause, Xavier will decide what's best for the rebellion and manipulates circumstances to his advantage.

He frowns down at me. "We need this, Taran. No one on our side has ever been so close to the Authority. To Fuentes. You can be the start of the downfall of his leadership. Having you on the inside will give me the information I need."

"I know," I say on a sharp sigh. I step away from Xavier, trying to think. Having a rebel living in the same home as the Warlord is like a dream come true for our cause. Still, "I really don't want to go back, Xavier. He wants to keep me with him, in his home, like some kind of pet. Being that close to Fuentes, that close to execution. It makes me uncomfortable."

He waves his hand between us. "Your sentence was commuted, you'll be fine."

I stare at him with narrowed eyes. "How can you know that? What if he beats me, or rapes me? What if he decides to kill me and I've cut off my only avenue of escape?"

He looks guilty for a second before smoothing his features. "He won't, Taran." His voice is cajoling but my trust in him is waning. "I told you, I have someone on the inside."

"How high up?" I demand, frowning.

"High enough."

I'm starting to wonder if my capture was maneuvered by more than Diogo. If somehow Xavier had something to do with the setup, to get me closer to the Authority than he's ever had anyone. A piece of me, the piece that held out hope that one day I might be able to find some kind of life with my husband, dies.

But he's right. We do need someone in a position to keep an eye on Fuentes. To insinuate themselves among the higher ranks. Feed information to the rebels. Try to change the minds of those in charge. "He'll watch me carefully for awhile. He won't trust me. He'll either think I'm preparing to run, or he'll realize I'm in a good position to spy on the Authority. He's not stupid and he's not blinded by arrogance."

Xavier frowns at me. "You got to know him pretty well in just a few hours. Exactly how close did he get to you?"

I glare at him. How dare he suddenly act jealous? All he's ever done is use me to further his goals for the rebellion. Even our marriage had been orchestrated. He'd seen me, seen what I was capable of. Seen the fire and my hatred of authoritarian rules. He applied for the marriage and took me to the rebellion the moment the papers were signed. He'd never intended us to have a real relationship, though we did try a few years ago. His ambition and my independent streak made it impossible.

I wasn't heartbroken or disappointed. Xavier had been too busy, too involved in his role as leader of the rebels to pay much attention to a young woman's emotions. Still, as the years passed, our feelings toward each other evolved. We grew apart, reaching for our separate goals. I'd sunk deeper into the rebellion, creating a place for myself. Setting up my own role, leading illegals to safety.

Now I wonder if part of him isn't jealous that I'd surpassed him as far as giving the rebels someone to flock around. In some ways, the idea of the Desert Wren has reached almost mythical proportions.

"I'll go back," I tell him, staring past his shoulder, toward the dying light at the entrance of the alleyway. I shift my gaze up to him. "But not for you. For the cause."

"Taran" His voice is pleading, his face softening as he looks down at me. What does he see? A small, vulnerable woman about to go into the Warlord's lair by herself? Or his wife, the woman who should stand at his side but never could?

"How do I get back in? I scaled a good chunk of the building down, and I'm telling you right now, I won't be going back up the same way."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "No, we'll get his attention another way."

He pulls a radio off his belt and changes the signal. He lifts it to his lips. "I need backup in Sector One, near checkpoint six. We have a suspected rebel trying to leave the sector without papers. I believe she's the Desert Wren. Handle with extreme caution when approaching, she may be armed."

I gape up at him. The second he's off the radio I send my fist into his stomach. He coughs and takes a step back, holding his hands up. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we have to make this escape attempt look real. You can't just get caught loitering outside the Tower."

"Fuck you," I snap. "The idiot police will be coming after me with guns drawn. I'll be lucky if they don't shoot me first and detain me second."

He flashes a grin and lifts the radio to his lips. "The Desert Wren must be apprehended alive. Repeat, she must be taken alive."

I growl and take a threatening step toward him. He backs up another step and says, "You better start running little bird."

"I'll get you back for this!" I turn on my heel and start running in the opposite direction, away from Diogo's building. The sector is big enough to get lost in, but now, with security crawling all over it looking for me I won't be able to hide for long.

I sprint full tilt at an angle away from the checkpoint, zigzagging through the streets. It has to look like I was trying to leave checkpoint six, where I was supposedly spotted. Although anyone with half a brain will figure out I was never there once they ask a few questions. "This is such a stupid plan," I grumble.

I wish I knew the layout of Sector One better, but I've never had reason to be here before. I pass building after building, most are cleaned up and occupied. In the other sectors, every second building and house would be in complete disrepair, most uninhabitable. There would be plenty of places for me to run inside and get lost. But this sector has been better taken care of than all the others. Even the streets are cleaner, not full of trash and scraps. Fewer razed buildings.

I'm about to turn and try another direction when I hear the unmistakeable sound of footfalls behind me, hitting the pavement with echoing slaps. I don't hear shouting or police coordinating my capture as they close in on me. Maybe I'm only being chased by one person, maybe I can still get away. I'm fast and skilled, I might be able to outpace or outwit the person chasing me.

I cut through another alley and burst in behind an abandoned building, gutted to only its skeleton. Finally, something I can work with! I hurtle over a twisted metal frame, dart through an open doorway, and down a long hallway. The drywall has long since rotted from exposure, leaving only patches of walls and metal behind.

I can't tell if anyone is still behind me or if I managed to lose them. I need to find some place to hide so I can catch my breath and reassess my options. I run into a stairwell and start climbing. This is a dangerous exercise as unmaintained buildings crumble and collapse all the time. Most children have been told to stay out of abandoned buildings. I've learned to use them to my advantage.

I climb until I reach a blocked section of stairwell. I'm forced to backtrack down to the third floor, instead of continuing up. I don't pause, I throw my weight against the door, shoving it open. It hits something solid on the other side, but there's just enough room for me to squeeze through. Anyone bigger won't make it through that door. Anyone smaller won't have a chance if I catch them in a fair fight.

I forget for a moment, as I hurdle full tilt down another hallway filled with shadows, only the sunset pouring in through broken windows and missing section of wall, that I'm supposed to allow myself to get caught. The need to escape, to run free, is strong within me. My fight or flight instinct has kicked in hard. So when I slam into a big, unmoveable chest, which sends me flying backwards, I come back up swinging my fist wildly.

A hand clamps over my wrist. I twist to the side and hammer my other fist down on the inside of their arm, weakening the hold. I hear a growled "fuck" right before I'm released. I duck past him and take about two steps when I'm grabbed once more and thrown into a wall.

"Oomph!" The air whooshes out of me as my back hits hard. He brings an arm up under my chin and pins me. I try to kick out at him, but he shoves my leg to the side, tearing a cry of pain from me as his knee connects with my thigh. He tightens his arm against my throat until I'm struggling for air.

"Enough!" He shouts at me.

Diogo.

I can barely see him in the darkness of the hallway. His face is deeply shadowed. But his hold is painful and his voice is angry.

"Please!" I gasp. Dizziness is swamping me, threatening to carry me into unconsciousness.

His arm tightens and I fear he intends to snap my neck. Xavier was wrong, I'm not safe in the care of Diogo Fuentes.

"Caught you, little bird." His deep voice is the last that I hear as I'm taken on a wave of unconsciousness, succumbing to exhaustion and a restricted airway. "You're mine."