A dangerous thought toyed with her mind. Because he hid his pain so well, and cultivated his entire demeanor, and uttered strange enough things to sound like code, Kira didn't really know his plans or intentions. This all felt like a great deal of work when he claimed he didn't want to be bothered with her.
So what if Zayne had something to hide?
The Phaedra chose him specifically for this job, and he'd insulted her by saying that he didn't need to try, because she'd eventually trust him no matter what.
What if that was just a warning too?
What if he didn't want her to drink his poison?
She'd felt lucky that Zayne was so detestable because otherwise she might fall into the Phaedra's trap.
And she was beginning to see there were no coincidences with Zayne Riven.
CHAPTER 7
Zayne
The Before-Times
3 Years Ago
The Capital
Kallum, Ciondo
830 P.C. [Post-Collapse]
The slivered moon offered Zayne a touch of light while he scaled the tall office building and stole across the roof, but not so much that his dark uniform didn't blend into the night.
Mom rarely asked him to intervene on behalf of the Followers and never requested help for anyone else. Not once, until tonight, when she sent an encoded message about a woman trapped in the manufacturing district.
Kira Stiles.
She worked as a fruit vendor of all things and broke into a restricted office a mere fifteen miles south of the Phaedra's tower. A naturalvalley blocked the ugliness of the manufacturing district from the emperor's pristine city. Citizens did not set foot into this district unless they worked here.
Mom didn't disclose to Zayne how she learned about this Kira Stiles woman, and he didn't ask. They shared as little information as possible in case of interrogation. Thinking about Mom putting herself in danger drove him mad. He couldn't tell her to defy her heart, though. Both of them knew the suffering of faking loyalty. She needed her own resistance as much as Zayne did. Otherwise, what difference was there between heartfelt loyalty and a facade?
Normally, he kept his illicit work outside Kallum and never came this close to the capital. But he didn't want to abandon the woman to die, and he never said no to his mom.
But he did wish he had asked a few more questions about this perplexing situation. Soldiers regularly patrolled the district to protect the empire's precious resources, especially the kind capable of making bombs. So how the hell did a civilian manage to get inside a building that housed select amounts of the Phaedra's uranium? What did she think she'd do with it?
The PXI destroyed any weapons created from materials like uranium. Just exposing it to the air for a few seconds brought in a swarm of nanobots rich enough to paint the sky red. Though he wanted to call Kira's plans idiotic, whatever they may be, she'd made it this far. She wasn't stupid.
He'd also read through her file while he waited on his friend, Reinard, to break into the security cameras. Sixteen years ago, after the government removed her from her rebel mother, she scored incredibly well on her aptitude tests and earned a spot at one of the children's homes here in the capital. A rare honor, especially for the child of a traitor. Normally, they killed the entire family of anyone who betrayed the Phaedra. A young child with a high degree of intelligence who showed so much promise? They'd make an exception for such a resource. This empire ran on double standards.
Whoever decided to place her in the home expected her to grow up and enter a highly skilled field. Not sell fruit. Strange.
Maybe she intended to stay off the radar at the market to get away with things like this. Once again, not stupid. A woman as intelligent as her, breaking into a facility like this, knew what to do with her stolen treasures.
She piqued his interest. That may have been one reason he chose such a risky mission in the capital.
Not having Nadia at home to vouch for him made everything more dangerous now. Her absence clung to him as he picked his way through the dark offices in search of Kira. It felt like she took pieces of his body with her, and he needed to relearn how to walk and breathe. How to exist in the world without her.
He refused to ruminate. If a thought about her came, he'd cut it off. No exception. Even if he needed to bat away her image every second of the day.
Minutes stretched into two hours as he painstakingly searched each floor, slowed by the need to avoid the soldiers on their disciplined patrol schedule. Finally, when he opened a cabinet on the tenth floor, expecting to see more office supplies, a hunk of wood shot forward.
Zayne caught the slender wrist wielding a broken broom handle. He ripped it from her and set it on the counter.
