Like, fuck, the royals of Switzerland were about the nicest people I'd ever met. Was I supposed to believe they had a secret torture city where they killed people? Women and children? Babies with their tiny bodies cut up and burned?
I couldn't see it.
No fucking way.
Then again, I had the impression Rafe’s grandfather had been a nasty piece of shit, so maybe there was something there.
I had to stop for a second and squeeze my eyes tightly closed to banish the images, otherwise I would probably give myself away with the sobbing and vomiting that those videos brought me to.
Focus, Violet. I had to compartmentalize this shit, or I was never going to make it through their conditioning.
When I got myself together, my focus back on track, I continued my journey out of the building and into the resistance city. It was quite dark; it was late and the general population here had gone to bed. This gave me free run of the facility, and the first place I decided to investigate was the “prison” building Caine had inadvertently let slip during my first tour.
I remembered where it was because I'd been keeping a mental map of this shithole since the minute I’d arrived from Red East camp. Every time I'd gone anywhere, seen anything, I'd added it to the grid in my head. So while I didn't know every part of the city, I had a good idea where most things lay, and the large building was only about a five minute run from my apartment—made sense, Uriel would want to keep his leverage close.
My breathing was even for the first few minutes, but after that it got a little more labored. I wasn't exactly unfit, but neglecting my running over the past few months had done me no favors. By the time I made it to the large, non-descript building, I had to take a minute in the shadows to get my breath back. It had been a little farther than I’d thought, mostly caused by the fact that I needed to stay off the main path, taking the back roads instead.
But I was here now, and I needed to search for the princes before someone found me and hauled my ass back to my room. Not to mention, it was going to set me back in my "fake out these fuckers" plan if they thought I was trying to escape.
Hurry.
I had to be back in my room before morning, so no time to fuck around.
I noticed a back entrance, and hurried forward, hoping to find the door unlocked. That would be too easy of course, but right now, I really needed easy. When I reached for the handle, I noted the absence of any alarms on this side. No cameras either.
It almost looked like one of those doors they used just to take the trash out, especially since the large dumpsters were on this side of the building. Reaching forward, I jiggled the lock, only to hear the familiar click of a bolt.
Fuck's sake.
I wasn't surprised, but seriously, could I not just catch one fucking break?
Not bothering to waste time on the door any longer, I turned away and started to search the ground for objects that would help me pick the lock. I had a lot of skills, thanks to my sensei, some of which he'd really regret giving me.
He was going to regret a lot of his actions soon enough. A girl only had the ability to take so much, and when she snapped, it was the stuff of fucking poems. The murder-y kind.
The closer I got to the dumpsters, the more little bits and pieces of junk were on the ground. I managed to find a pin, one that I could straighten enough to work, so I just had to find something else.
Just as I got down on my stomach to reach under the dumpster, there was a clicking sound from behind me, and the door opened.
Fuck.
I was already halfway under, so I scooted the rest of the way into whatever disgusting shit was under here, holding my breath the whole time. Footsteps sounded just as I got out of sight, and I wondered if they'd seen my legs. It was dark and I was all in black, so if anything saved me, it was going to be that.
A whistling sounded as the person lifted the top of the dumpster and dropped their trash inside. The moment they turned away—I had a perfect view of their black boots—I wiggled out as silently as I could. They were going to get back inside through that door, and I would save myself a ton of time if I could secretly follow.
Whoever it was, I was guessing he was a man from the size of his back and shoulders. An unfit man who huffed and puffed during the short walk to the door. He didn't bother to look around once as he used a key on his belt to open the door, disappeared inside, and let the door swing back on its own.
Stupid, stupid move. Uriel would have kicked his ass if he saw that.
Doors were to be shut by a person, not their hinges. It was a big rule of his. Hydraulic openings like these gave your enemy time to lurch forward and catch the door just before it shut.
In this situation, I was the enemy.
I caught the door and held it for a moment, giving the man time to be long gone, and then I slipped inside.
Doing what the resistance guy had just failed to do, I closed the door firmly behind me, hearing the click of the lock before I moved away from it. Now I was inside the jail block, searching blind, and I needed to be quick about it. Who knew if Uriel intended to return to my room and follow through on his promises?
A deep shudder ran through me. A few years ago, the idea of spending the night in bed with him, of spending my future with him, would have been a dream come true. Stupid, foolish, brainwashed teen that I was, I'd genuinely thought I loved him.
Boy, had I been wrong.
What I felt for Jordan and Rafe... that was as real as it came. Not that I'd ever admitted it to them—certainly not to Rafe—but the longer I was away from them both, the longer they were in danger because of me, the more certain I became.
I was in love. With both of them.
And to hell with leaving my loved ones to suffer at the hands of Uriel and his crazy radical faction. I'd find Jordan—and hopefully Rafe—and we'd get the fuck out of here. Screw saving the world, that wasn't our responsibility. We were too young and way too inexperienced. This was a job for King Felipe and Queen Jacinta... if they were both still alive.
Guilt washed through me, churning my stomach. If Felipe didn't survive, then it was my fault. Logically I knew the Society had relished the opportunity to take down so many royals all at once, but I still couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility. Would things have happened like that if they hadn't been targeting me? Would Rafe's dad be safely home with his kids?
Questions that would never be answered, even while the guilt continued to eat me alive.
A sound ahead of me made me pause, then I pasted myself against the wall and prayed that the shadows would help me blend. When no one came around the corner and the sound faded away, I breathed a sigh of relief. I needed to hurry the hell up and find Jordan, not dwell on my own melancholy thoughts.
Shoving my emotions aside, I worked my way through the building systematically. I relied on the training that Uriel had drilled into me for years and remained undetected. Silently, I searched countless rooms until finally I found the one I was looking for. Or rather, the occupant I was looking for.
"Jordy!" I exclaimed in a hushed cry through the meal slot as I recognized his shadowy form. In reality, as dark as it was and as hunched over as he was, it could have been anyone. But I knew it was him. I knew that was my New American prince. "Jordan, it's Violet!"
He was sitting with his back to one of the smooth concrete walls, his arms draped across his bent knees and his head hanging low. His dark hair seemed longer, hanging in limp, dirty strands in front of his face and obscuring it from view.
When he made no sign of having heard me, I grew worried. Had they damaged his hearing?
I needed to get in there. I needed to touch him and know that he was still okay... as okay as could be expected if he'd suffered a fraction of the atrocities Uriel was capable of.
"Hang on," I told him through the meal slot, my voice only slightly louder than the whisper I'd started with. "I'm coming to get you out."
I worked quickly with the pin I'd found in the alleyway, and moments later the door to Jordan's prison swung open and I rushed inside. My knees hit the floor in front of him, and I reached out to touch his arms, not hesitating for even a second.
Stupid. I should have known better.
The second my gloved hands touched Jordan's skin, he flinched violently away and curled in on himself defensively.
I breathed a curse, biting my lip as I mentally chastised myself for such a dumb move. Only an idiot would think the Society had just tossed him in a cell and left him alone for weeks. Considering what they called training for me... I shuddered to think what they'd have done as punishment to a crown heir.
"Jordy," I whispered again, sitting back on my heels and folding my hands in my lap to stop from trying to touch him again—even though every fiber of my being needed to reach out and feel that he was still alive, still breathing, still mine. "Jordan, it's me, Violet. Can you hear me?"
He flinched again and shuddered, but it was all I needed to reassure myself that he could, in fact, hear and understand me.
"Jordy, we need to get you out of here," I told him in a gentle whisper, licking my lips to hold back the choking sense of urgency flooding through me. "We need to go, now, before they realize I've left my room."
No response.
"Jordan, please," I begged him, letting that edge of panic slip into my tone. "Please, we need to go. Now. Come on." I stupidly reached out to him, intending to take his hand and coax him up.
"No!" he shouted, slapping my hand away before it could make contact and then shoving me away from him hard enough to land me on my ass from the kneeling position I'd been in. "No," he repeated, finally raising his head enough to meet my eyes. What I saw there chilled me to my soul, and my heart cracked in two. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Get the fuck out of here, Rose." He sneered my middle name at me, and I knew.