Chapter 46

FORTY-SIX

XERO

Isabel told me Amethyst thinks I could be Father, which explains her distress. I washed the brown wax from my hair and wiped off the tint I used to darken my skin, so that I look more like myself.

When I step into the room, she’s already sitting up in her bed, having escaped most of her restraints. My chest swells with pride that she’s used everything I taught her to survive. I pause in the doorway, marveling at my determined little ghost.

We kept her sedated for the journey back to Beaumont City, where a triage truck waited to transport her to this out-of-town safe house. We’re providing everything she needs to recover from her ordeal, but she needs to understand that she’s free.

Amethyst turns her head, and her pretty green eyes flicker with recognition. All the tension in her features melts to relief, and my heart soars.

She isn’t lost to insanity.

Without speaking, she communicates with a wide-eyed expression and a tilt of her head that beckons me closer.

“Amethyst?” I ask.

“I said where did you go?” she whispers.

My brow furrows, and I make a tentative step to her bedside. “What do you mean?”

She stares at me as if I’m a puzzle she desperately needs to solve. “You vanished,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the machinery. “I couldn’t reach you after Delta boarded the bus.”

I inhale a sharp breath, disturbed she could ever mistake me for a bastard like Father. Amethyst once told me she only hallucinated men she murdered. She probably thinks I died in that fire.

Isabel warned me not to argue with her if she’s hallucinating, saying it would distress her further. I need to guide her back to reality without dismissing her perception.

“Where do you think we are now?” I ask.

“You don’t know?” she asks back with a frown.

I shrug. “I have an idea, but I want to hear your opinion first.”

She turns her attention back to the straps encasing her legs, removing them with trembling fingers. “Delta must have taken me to one of his hideouts after I messed up his filming schedule.”

My chest tightens at the thought of her fighting her way to freedom.

“He’s cut off the painkillers as a punishment and left me here until he can rebuild his sets,” she continues.

“I see,” I reply, a lump forming in my throat at the thought that she’s distressed. “What if I told you Delta wasn’t here?”

She pauses, her gaze darting toward mine. Tears cling to her long lashes. She’s paler than usual, with dark circles ringing her eyes. I’ve never seen her look so heartbreakingly vulnerable.

“Did you overhear something while I was dissociating?” she asks.

The question hits like a punch to the throat. I school my expression, wondering if her experience at the asylum created more damage than I originally feared.

Does she think I’m one of her alters?

Not wanting to trigger any confusion, I shake my head.

After freeing her legs, she removes the electrodes from her temples and chest, leaving her skin sticky with residue. She slides out the needle from her vein with a wince and tosses it aside.

It takes every effort to hold back a warning. Intervening might shatter her mind, but allowing her to discover she’s free could start the healing process.

Wiping the blood on her gown, she swings her legs off the bed and stands on shaky feet.

My hands twitch out to steady her, but I force my arms to remain at my sides. This isn’t the first time she’s mistaken me for a hallucination. I’m only glad that she thinks I’m a trusted one.

Staring up at me with fierce determination, she says, “Let’s go.”

Without another word, she strides to the door. I step backward, not wanting to get in her way.

“Amethyst,” I say.

Her hand pauses at the door handle. “What?”

“Put on some slippers and a heavier robe.”

She turns around, her gaze following where I’m pointing toward a pair of thick-soled slippers and a plush robe hanging on a hook by the wall. Her eyes widen, as if she’s seeing them for the first time.

Nodding, she rushes over to the garments and slips them on. “Thanks,” she murmurs. “I can always rely on you to notice the little things. Are these hallways guarded?”

“No. You’re safe.” Her eyes narrow, so I add, “The guards are all outside, and I heard Isabel’s footsteps disappear down the hallway and through a door.”

The suspicion on her features melts into relief. Nodding to herself, she grips the robe’s neckline and heads toward the door. “Come on, then.”

I follow her out into the dimly lit hallway, our footsteps creaking on the hardwood floors. This safe house is a two-story residence nestled within a seven-acre lot on the outskirts of Beaumont City.

We’ve evacuated our underground hideouts until I can assess how much information Delta forced out of Amethyst. My operatives are scattered across the city, with only my sisters, Jynxson, and a small retinue of guards on the grounds.

Amethyst strides down the hallway, her head swiveling from side to side in a state of heightened vigilance. She descends the stairs and pauses at the oak front door.

“That’s probably alarmed,” she mutters, her gaze flicking to a security panel.

“Good call,” I murmur. “What should we do next?”

She points toward the kitchen. “We’ll need weapons in case we bump into our enemies.”

Amethyst moves through the kitchen, her fingers sliding over the quartz worktops. She searches through its oak drawers and cabinets until she finds one containing a collection of knives. After tucking several small ones into her robe pocket, she selects the largest weapon with the heaviest blade.

I watch in awe, wondering what the hell her time at the asylum has unlocked.

She opens the refrigerator, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of all the food. After cracking open a protein shake and draining it in a few hearty gulps, she grabs several small items and stuffs them into her pockets.

A creak coming from upstairs has her head snapping up. “What’s that?”

“The medic,” I whisper, hoping Isabel is still in her quarters. “She’s harmless.”

She closes the refrigerator door, scuttles across the room, and ducks behind the kitchen island.

My brows pinch, and I wonder if she’s hallucinating something new. I crouch at her side and whisper, “What’s happening?”

“This is a trick,” she hisses.

“Explain.”

“The drugs are wearing off. Everything hurts and you’re glitching.” She turns to me, her eyes watering. “Delta would never leave me alone in a house. What if this is another movie set?”

A knot twists in my gut, tightening with each trembling word. I want to hold her close and promise she’s safe, but this supposed hallucination of me is the only thing she trusts. Her confusion slices through my chest, leaving me raw and helpless, knowing it will take more than the truth to break through the barriers in her broken mind.

“You asked me earlier if I noticed anything while you were dissociating,” I whisper. “Do you remember being carried onto a boat and drugged?”

She nods, her breath quickening.

“You were sedated for hours, and the medic cleaned your wounds.” I flick my head toward the ceiling. “She took blood samples and swabs.”

Her eyes go round. “Swabs?”

“To track the DNA of any man who touched you,” I snarl. “They’re going to die.”

Suppressing a shudder, she nods again.

“They moved you to this out-of-town hideout. I noticed acres of land with outbuildings.”

“Studio sets?” she asks, her voice rising with alarm.

I wince, the weight of her fear tightening my gut. Injecting a note of reassurance into my voice, I add, “The point is that you’re alone in the house with Isabel, who’s here to monitor your vitals.”

“Maybe Delta no longer trusts the male guards,” she mutters.

My jaw tightens, and I grind my molars. I clench my fists so tightly that my nails dig into my palms. Every instinct screams at me to ask what happened with the man who stole her away on the bus, but I force back the question. Her Xero alter would know everything she suffered because he was with her the entire way.

“Can you eat something before we find an exit?” I ask.

She shakes her head and grimaces. “It’s hard enough to keep down that shake. Everything I eat reminds me of the force feeding.”

My chest burns, and I clench my teeth, swallowing down a burst of rage. The thought of them forcing her to do anything makes me want to tear Father and his cohorts into shreds.

Footsteps echo down the stairs, making us both freeze. Isabel was supposed to stay in her room, leaving me to handle Amethyst. My heart races, my insides twisting with dread. Not for my sister, the fully trained assassin, but for Amethyst.

“What do you want to do?” I ask, my voice soft.

She glances toward the stairs, her gaze sharpening. “Anyone who associates with Delta knows what they’re doing.”

I swallow, wanting to avoid a confrontation. Knowing Isabel, she’s armed with both a tranq gun and a syringe.

“Or we can find a way out without setting off any alarms,” I whisper.

“Or I can just kill her,” she whispers back.

A chill runs down my spine. Amethyst is no longer in denial about her murderous instincts. I wanted to unlock her cold, ruthless determination, but not at the cost of her sanity. Or my family.

“Don’t risk it.” I raise a hand, ready to drop the pretense of being a hallucination and grab her if she springs out at my sister. “Isabel might raise the alarm.”

Her eyes dart around the kitchen, and her body tenses as if she’s on the verge of bolting. My pulse quickens, every muscle in my body primed to react. The tension mounts, thickening with every heartbeat. Perhaps it was a bad idea to let her take so many knives.

Finally, she nods. “Let’s find another way out.”

I rock forward, my chest deflating with relief. “If she comes in, we’ll round the island and slip out through the hatch I noticed earlier in the utility room.”

Isabel’s footsteps grow louder, and I motion for Amethyst to move. The last way I want my oldest sister and the woman I love to be better acquainted is through a fight to the death.