Impact Velocity (The Physics of Falling) Read online

  Blaine spread his hands, ignoring my reaction. “I am in no position to make promises at this point.”

  “And Molly? I notice that her interests have been almost completely absent from this conversation.”

  “Molly?”

  “Princess Marquilla,” Jonathan clarified.

  Blaine pursed his lips, but replied too quickly. “We have been put in a difficult position, all of us. I must get back as soon as possible. In the meantime, I’ll—”

  Molly screamed.

  What about Ella?

  As a first name? No, there’s no imperial tradition for that one. We could use it as a middle name, though.

  There’s no imperial tradition for Marquilla, either.

  But it was your mother’s name, so there’s precedent.

  I don’t like it, Pete.

  Why?

  It’s hard to explain.

  Let’s talk about it tonight.

  iv35

  We ran toward the house. Through the window I saw Molly, struggling and kicking in the hands of three armed and armored men. Something hit me hard in the back and I fell to the ground, a heavy weight on top of me. I struggled but someone hissed in my ear.

  “Be still. They’re ISS.”

  Power surged through me on a wave of pure rage and I rolled us both over, crashing my fist into Blaine’s face. Someone else grabbed my arm.

  “Stop!” Jonathan whispered. “Wait.”

  “He—”

  “They’re not mine,” Blaine grated out, swiping the blood from his mouth with a fist. “They’re not with me. I didn’t bring them.”

  I glanced up helplessly at the house. “Then who—”

  “Laudley,” Jonathan said.

  “Check outside!” The shout jerked all our heads up.

  “Quick!” Jonathan grabbed my arm and together we scrambled up, dashing into the pitiful cover of the trees, Blaine crashing behind me.

  “Where are we going?” I demanded. “The children are in the house!”

  “And they’ve already got them,” Blaine spat.

  I whirled around but Jonathan had my arm and wouldn’t let go.

  “Stop that! Stop bickering and run. We’re almost there.”

  The noise from the direction of the house was all the encouragement I needed. I ran after Jonathan but in moments he disappeared. I jerked to a stop but Blaine pushed me ahead of him.

  “There,” he said, pointing. I followed his finger to where Jonathan had disappeared and I could just make out a faint shimmer around what looked like a bush. I dashed toward it, closing my eyes when I hit it. Nothing stopped me and I passed through the camouflage field, Blaine on my heels. Jonathan smacked his palm against the wall and the shimmer hardened and went opaque.

  “All right,” he said, panting. “We’re safe for now.”

  I stared at the poly walls, the drawers and cabinets and the occasional dark screen of a simple bunker for a moment, getting my bearings, before I rounded on Blaine. “They followed you.”

  Jonathan grabbed Blaine before I could, and for a moment I thought he was holding him still so I could hit him. But then I realized he was trying to get Blaine’s jacket off.

  “What the—?”

  “What are you—?”

  “Get it off.” Jonathan cut us both off, jerking hard at Blaine’s collar. It shocked me how quickly Blaine stopped arguing and slipped out of the sleeves, a look of realization dawning. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt. I stared with a sort of horrified fascination at a long, thin scar that traced from his collarbone all the way down his chest to disappear below his waistline. Within moments Jonathan had him stripped down to his underpants.

  “Oh, please don’t,” I said when Blaine reached for them.

  “Turn around if you don’t want to see,” Jonathan snapped. I did as I was told. Moments later, Jonathan moved past me with a bundle of clothes in his arms which he dumped straight into an incinerator chute, slamming the door and hitting the igniter. He went to a drawer nearby, jerking it open and grabbing pants and things and throwing them in Blaine’s direction. He disappeared again, moving behind me until finally he said, “It’s safe now, Jacob,” with only a hint of wryness in his tone.

  I turned to find Blaine fully dressed again, though the sleeves and pants legs were too short.

  “Trackers,” Jonathan said. “They were probably in his clothes.”

  I took a minute to make sense of that.

  “He didn’t bring them so they had to have followed him,” Jonathan explained. “The only way they could do that is if they had a locater on him. There’s no way they could have followed the transport.”

  “How do you know he didn’t bring them?”

  “Because he was as afraid as you were when he saw them with the children.” I glanced at Blaine but he was watching Jonathan.

  “We have to go back,” I insisted. “We have to get them.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Blaine’s dry tone made my hands clench into fists. “Do you have an arsenal and an army stashed on this island, too?”

  I advanced on him but Jonathan stepped between us. “Stop acting like children! Can you two do that?”

  Jonathan glared at me and I snapped my mouth closed. Blaine straightened. “Yes, of course.”

  Jonathan didn’t wait for my answer, he gave a curt nod. “Good. Now,” he turned to Blaine, “how were you planning to get off the island?”

  “I have someone at the palace waiting for my signal to activate the return transport.”

  “Well there’s a fantastic plan. Only one way out, which you leave right in the hands of your enemies and expose the location of the safehouse at the same time.”

  Blaine glared at me. “There’s almost no information about this place to plan from, in case you hadn’t noticed. I had no other options.”

  “Then why did you even come?”

  “Because that’s my son!”

  All argument died on my lips as my heart sped up again. I rounded on Jonathan. “We have to go get them.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “How?”

  I stared at him. “What do you mean, how? I don’t know. That’s your job.” I waved my hand around at the vid screens in the bunker. “You and all this stuff.”

  Jonathan made a noise that sounded like a growl. “In spite of what you seem to believe, I can’t actually perform magic.”

  “They have my children!”

  His voice softened. “I know that.”

  “Then what are we going to do?”

  He turned away, switching on a vid.

  “We’re going to get out of here. Jake, I hope that transport of yours is as far along as you said. We can take a tunnel from here.”

  I grabbed his arm, whirling him back around to face me. “We’re going to rescue the kids first. They’re coming with us.”

  “We can’t possibly help them now. We’d only be captured ourselves.”

  I shook him, hard. “My children!”

  He jerked away from me.

  “I know. But you can’t help them by crashing back in there. The only way you can do anything for them now is by escaping so you can fight another day. Not today. Today is already lost.”

  “But—”

  I sought Blaine but he was glaring at the floor, his jaw tight. When he raised his head and his face was carefully blank. “He’s right.”

  “Can’t you do anything?” I demanded.

  He gave me an incredulous look. “Don’t you think I’ve done enough already?” His tone was sour and full of contempt. But for once, it wasn’t for me.

  “The transport, Jake?” Jonathan prompted. I nodded tightly. He gave me a long look full of sympathy. “We have to go.”

  “Wait,” Blaine said to Jonathan, “you ha
ve a port comm?” Jonathan held it up wordlessly. “You’ll have to leave it.” Jonathan’s expression hardened but he hesitated only a moment before chucking it in the incinerator.

  Blaine turned to me. “You?”

  I shook my head. “He can track us with those?” I asked.

  “Or worse,” Blaine said grimly, but looked at Jonathan rather than me. “There’s a transport, you said?”

  You’ll be at the game today, right?

  Pete...

  Please?

  They’re all going to hate me.

  Since when have you cared about that?

  I cared whether or not you hated me.

  Well, yes, but that was because you were afraid of me.

  I’m still afraid of you.

  You are not.

  That’s true.

  iv36

  The garage was further below the waterline than I’d realized and we dove quickly to a depth that would make us invisible from above to the naked eye. Thankfully, the things that had not been affected by the transport’s deactivation on arrival were the majority of the camouflage and defense mechanisms.

  I set the autopilot for somewhere in the middle of the ocean and stepped back into what was more a cargo area than anything else. “Jonathan—”

  “What are you doing back here?” Blaine snapped.

  I cocked an eyebrow sarcastically. “Whatever I choose to do. What business is it of yours?”

  “If this thing goes down or runs into something, I drown too. I think that’s very much my business.”

  “Do you want to drive it?”

  “No, I’d like you to drive it.”

  “You know what, Blaine? My husband just died and now I’ve lost my children. You think you could leave me alone just once?”

  He went very still, his voice cold and hard as ice. “You think I don’t know what that feels like?”

  I froze, startled. A familiar grief descended over me. “Did you really think I had anything to do with it? When Hera died?”

  “No. And yes.”

  My eyebrows climbed but I waited.

  “I didn’t think you actively had anything to do with it. But you were like a disease. You infected everything around you. You killed things that were good and proper just by existing.”

  Anger smoldered in my chest. “And now?”

  He laughed. “Now? Of course I think that. More than ever. The emperor is dead. That was entirely because of you.”

  In a flash I was standing so close to him I could feel his rapid breaths.

  He sneered. “Aren’t you going to punch me?”

  I could imagine my fist crashing into his face. Breaking his nose. I’d done it once before, and I wanted more than anything to do it again. But my gaze flickered unwillingly to the scar that cut through his eyebrow and my stomach went cold. With a force of will I slowed my breathing, and finally stepped back, blowing out a long breath. “How did that arrogance survive Dead End?”

  He froze but then started to smile, a weak, sickly thing.

  “The same way yours did, I imagine.”

  ***

  We drove in an awkward, angry silence for a while before I turned to Jonathan with a sigh.

  “What now?”

  “There is another safehouse I know,” he said slowly.

  “Another?” Blaine said. “Why don’t I know about it?”

  Jonathan’s expression was bland and dry. “Because it’s not an Imperial safehouse. Quite the opposite, in fact.” His mouth twitched. “And I think it is the last place anyone would look for you.” The emphasis on the last word was clearly meant for Blaine, though I got the feeling Jonathan meant that just as surely for me.

  “Where is it?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to say. Not yet, anyway.”

  I scowled. “Why?”

  “Because it’s not my sanctuary to offer you. I can take you there, but they are the ones who will decide if you may refuge with them or not.”

  There was a long moment of silence. Blaine’s voice was icy. “I refuse to blindly follow you wherever you’ve decided is best for us to go. Tell me where you’re taking us.”

  Jonathan cocked an eyebrow. “You refuse? On what position of power do you base this demand? Your authority as emperor?” His tone left no question as to what he thought of Blaine. “You require protection. If you want it from these people, you will do what I say, or you won’t have it.”

  “What people? I said.

  Jonathan ignored the question. “We will have to drop him off somewhere first.”

  “Stop!” Blaine bellowed. “I will not be dismissed so easily, certainly not by you.”

  Jonathan’s expression was an odd mix of amusement and annoyance. “Me? What difference is there between you and me at present, Your Excellence,” he made the title a mockery, “except that I have connections and information that will protect me, and you don’t?”

  Blaine whirled around, storming the whole five feet across the transport. A long, heavy silence passed before he grated, “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “You owe me a great many things, my life not the least of them.” Jonathan’s tone softened. “Yet I’m willing to help you. Because I’m not like you.”

  “No, you’re not,” Blaine said. There was something in his tone I couldn’t make out at all. Finally he turned. “I accept your offer,” he bowed his head regally. “Thank you.”

  ***

  Jonathan pulled out meal packets for us before he disappeared into the forward compartment to enter the new coordinates. I laughed at the simple practicality of it. Of course Jonathan would make sure we were fed.

  If Blaine thought anything of it, he gave no indication. He sat down across the cabin from me and began to eat with a straightforward purpose, though it almost seemed like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

  “Kafe’s dead.”

  My head jerked up and I stared at Blaine. He was holding a cracker between two fingers, painting swirls in the hummus, not even looking at me. And yet I felt like he’d punched me in the face. I went hot and cold all over. I wanted just to nod and move on, as if I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care.

  “When?”

  He sat there, still and unresponsive. Without looking up he finally answered. “When Laudley came for me, he took Kafe as well. Once we were on his ship he spaced her.”

  I grunted, as if this time he’d punched me in the gut. I’d imagined it before, Kafe’s death, many times in many ways. I’d imagined that one, her being spaced while still alive. The moment of panic before the cold vacuum of space ended all the rest of her moments. Somehow there was no satisfaction in hearing that it was done. Or even relief. Mostly I felt sick.

  “She protected you, you know.”

  Blaine’s words seemed to echo in my ears; ridiculous, unbelievable words. I laughed, an unhinged, desperate sound.

  “Protected? Is that what you call it?” He knew what had happened to me on Dead End. He’d arranged it and watched it, collected the security footage and used it against me more than once.

  He snorted. “You have no idea how protected you were. When I contacted her to make sure your stay on Dead End was…” he looked up at me with a malicious smile that still managed to be wan and halfhearted, “memorable, she said she knew how and would take care of it. And I was happy with the results.”

  My hands clenched and unclenched in my lap. I struggled not to reach across the cabin and strangle him.

  “It wasn’t until I went there myself that I realized how much she sheltered you.”

  “Sheltered?” My voice shook.

  “She warned everyone else off of you. She thought it would have more of an impact and make you feel more isolated if you thought your suffering wasn’t simply the normal way of t
hings. If you thought that no one else went through what you did.”

  “Did you ever even spend one day on solitary?” My voice trembled with fury.

  “Of course. Two days.”

  I snorted. “Twenty days, Blaine. I spent twenty days out there. Do you think that was fun? Do you think I felt protected? Would you even be alive right now if the same thing happened to you? Over, and over, and over.”

  He slammed his hands down on the bench, rising on a rush of fury. “How many times were you gang raped?” I sucked in a startled breath. “How many nights did you lay awake, in too much pain to sleep, wondering if it was going to happen again tomorrow, when it would stop—if it ever would?” He sneered at me. “Highness.”

  I fell back against the seat. Long before I was married to the emperor, Kafe had called me that. She’d denied me even the threadbare dignity of the names the people on Dead End made for themselves, cobbled together from the identities they’d lost. She was the first one to call me “Highness,” and I’d heard it every day for six months in that hellhole, a mockery of what I’d had, and what I’d lost. Blaine hadn’t punched me, he’d reached down my throat and pulled out my insides, holding them up for me to see. Rage pooled in my chest, a hot, hard thing. I jerked to standing, clenching my fists in fury.

  “How many nights did you lay awake, E—whatever, trying to cling to sanity after days and days of solitary, knowing you’d just be going out there again tomorrow? How many nights did you spend wondering if you’d get a day or two before they did it to you again?”

  “There are worse things than solitary,” he sneered.

  I sucked in an angry breath. “There are worse things than—” but the words got stuck and I couldn’t say them. As much as I wanted to stab him with the memories, hurt him as much as he’d hurt me, that was a two edged sword, and I didn’t think I could survive the blow. I sighed.

  He was very still. “You don’t know what they called me?”

  His quiet shock drenched me and I sat back down. “No. I told you I’d leave you alone out there and I did.” He watched me in silence. I looked away. “And I didn’t want to know what was happening to Owen’s father.” I glanced up at him, and the look of blank shock on his face. I sighed. “We’ve spent a lot of years trying to hurt each other. Look where it’s gotten us.” He said nothing. “Maybe we should stop trying.”