11. My Programming Does Not Allow Me to Discuss That

CHAPTER 11

My Programming Does Not Allow Me to Discuss That

T wo weeks later, the Choosing was at the one-third mark. Ryker stretched out his legs before him as he got comfortable on the couch.

It was late morning, and he'd been chatting with Valentina for over an hour. This was their fourth encounter that week. She'd spent most of that time talking about her favorite stores in the Red Plaza, an upper-class district in Golden City.

"Enough about me," Valentina eventually said. "What do you do when you're not hard at work, Captain?"

Thank the gods, they were done with fashion. It wasn't that Ryker didn't appreciate good clothes—he admired the female body as much as the next man and recognized how certain garments highlighted curves and beauty—but he didn't care about fashion.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes. "Depends," he said after a minute.

"Oh?" Valentina purred. "On what?"

"On whom I'm with."

The fae laughed, but there was something strange about the sound. It was nothing like Brynleigh's and didn't make him feel anything inside.

Valentina was nothing like Brynleigh .

Over the past month, Ryker had slowly whittled his way through the other women, landing on these two as his best potential matches.

If he were smart, he would Choose Valentina. He knew that. On paper, she was the right wife for him. She was everything a proper partner should be. Well-educated, mannered, and already familiar with the way Representatives lived. He could hear his mother's voice in the back of his head, urging him to pick the Chancellor's daughter.

Valentina would produce heirs, which Brynleigh couldn't do since vampires didn't procreate. If he chose her, the Waterborn line would continue, mingling with the prestigious Rose line. Their children would be powerful, prominent members of society.

Theoretically, Valentina Rose was perfect.

Except every time Ryker spoke with the fire fae, he couldn't help but compare her to Brynleigh. They had nothing in common. Brynleigh was real in a way that Valentina wasn't. The vampire pulled on a part of his heart that no one else had ever touched.

Some of the other men had already chosen favorites. Therian and the shy Hallie spent every waking minute talking. Phillipe had taken an interest in Trinity, the werewolf. A few others were still dating several women, while it seemed some men weren't making the connections they desired.

"On a perfect day without work, one where the sun was shining, what would you do with me?" Valentina asked.

He knew what an ideal day would look like if he were alone. His days were regimented down to the minute when he was at work. Everything, from when he stepped onto the army base to when the gates closed behind him, was accounted for. When he was off, he preferred not to do anything strenuous. He liked to play games, relax with his dog, and watch sports with his friends.

Ryker knew Valentina well enough at this point to know she'd never be okay with that. If he Chose her, his life would be filled with endless parties, enormous credit-card bills, shopping, stuffy dinners, and high-society events. He'd never have a night off or a chance to play chess or relax.

He was exhausted thinking about it.

Taking a long drag of his liquor-laced coffee, Ryker rubbed his temples. "If I were with you, I'd probably wake up early and make you breakfast with all your favorite foods."

"Mhmm, I like the sound of that," Valentina hummed.

He figured she would. "After that, I'd take you shopping and let you buy whatever you wanted."

Ryker's mother, Tertia, and his sister, River, had expensive tastes and often went shopping together. It was one of the only times they weren't fighting. Although he hadn't joined them since the storm, Ryker often heard about their expensive escapades during family dinners.

He was certain Valentina would get along with them. She seemed like the type of woman with expensive taste who spoke eloquently and would enjoy the finer things in life. If Ryker picked Valentina, she would fit into the life his mother wanted him to live.

But was it the life he wanted?

A sigh of delight filled his ears. "Ryker, baby, you know the way to my heart."

It wasn't that difficult. The more Ryker talked to the fae, the more he realized the only two things she cared about were herself and money. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with either of those, but evidently, incompatibilities were rising between them.

Before Ryker could delve into his plans for dinner—he would take Valentina to an upscale restaurant with a chef's table, where they could watch their food being made in person—his headset dinged.

"Your date will be over in sixty seconds, Captain Waterborn," Celeste said.

A rush of something that could only be described as relief ran through Ryker. It caught him off-guard. He'd never felt this way after a date with Valentina before.

Raking a hand through his hair, Ryker groaned. This process was far more arduous than he'd ever expected. He never thought that the Choosing would leave him with such complicated feelings.

"Ryker?" Valentina's voice held an edge of sharpness, and he jolted. She must have been calling him. Irritated, she asked, "Did you hear me?"

By the Black Sands, he hadn't been paying attention at all. However, thanks to his mother and sister, he knew enough about the feminine condition to know that admitting to that particular flaw wouldn't go over well.

Instead, he said, "This conversation was enlightening, Valentina."

She paused, then sighed, "I hope we can talk again soon."

Ryker didn't answer. He couldn't lie to her and say the conversation had been nice. It had begun that way, but now, his stomach was in knots. Would Valentina be a good partner for him? He was having some serious doubts. If he Chose her, he'd always be doing something. Always be on display. With Valentina as his wife, Ryker would have no hope of privacy and quiet.

He wasn't certain he could live with that.

He could practically hear her frowning through the headphones. "Ryker?—"

Strands of violin music swallowed the remainder of her words, freeing him from having to deal with the rest of that conversation.

Thanking all the gods for their perfect timing, Ryker rose from the couch and strode to the bar. On his way there, he counted the number of guards. They'd doubled during his date. Not only that but their faces were pinched with worry.

Ryker ordered another coffee, frowning as he scanned the room. Something was off. He could feel it in his gut.

Taking his drink, he made his way over to the red hammock.

"Celeste?" He summoned the AI.

"Yes, Captain?"

"There are more guards here than normal." He placed the coffee on a red coaster.

The AI said, "If you say so, sir."

"I can count, so yes, I know there are double. Why are there more guards here?"

A strange clicking sound came through the headphones, but there was no response. Ryker's lips slanted down. Had she misheard him?

He repeated the question.

After a moment, Celeste replied, "I am not at liberty to discuss the outside world with participants of the Choosing."

"I'm aware." His fingers twitched, and he wished for his phone. Damn the technological blackout forced on Choosing participants. "Still, can you give me an update on the riots?"

This morning, he'd overheard several guards discussing the ongoing unrest.

"My programming doesn't allow me to discuss that," Celeste said curtly.

He scrubbed his face. "What about the unrest in the region?"

"My programming doesn't allow me to discuss that."

Ryker groaned. He fought the urge to rip off the headphones and fling them against the wall. "What's happening with the lower classes?"

"My programming doesn't allow me to discuss that."

Again and again, no matter how he worded his questions, she gave him the same response. It was infuriating. He got nothing out of the AI. That knot within him twisted tighter and tighter, sending sharp shooting pains through him.

What was happening outside these walls? He knew his family was safe—they were well-guarded, as were all Representatives and their loved ones—but what about the rest of the Republic?

When it became apparent Celeste wouldn't answer his questions, Ryker abandoned this course of action. This line of questioning wasn't getting him anywhere, and his tolerance for hearing the same answer had rapidly become non-existent.

By the time Celeste's too-chipper voice informed Ryker that his date was incoming, he'd devised a plan. After this, he'd speak with one of the guards and see if he could use his position in the army to gain information. The plan was solid, and he felt confident in it.

The music faded, and a sense of peace instantly washed over Ryker. He closed his eyes and settled into the hammock. Unlike the early days, when his date was a mystery, he knew Brynleigh was waiting for him on the other end of his headphones.

He greeted her, his voice filled with happiness that hadn't been present during his conversation with Valentina.

"Hey," she breathed. "I missed you."

Any remaining tension Ryker had felt from Celeste's non-responses melted away. It was always like this with Brynleigh. Everything flowed between them. They'd played several chess games and were tied with three wins each. Ryker learned more about the vampire every time they faced each other. Not only was she funny, but she was thoughtful, strategic, and surprisingly fierce.

"I did as well," he murmured. "How was your day so far?"

She sighed but didn't answer. That wasn't like her. She was quick-witted and often made him laugh. Today, though, something was different.

"Brynleigh?" He opened his eyes and stared at the winter garden separating them.

"I… didn't sleep well last night," she admitted after a moment.

A growl rumbled through his chest, and he clenched his fists. "What happened? Did someone say something to you?"

If they hurt her, he'd find them and make them pay.

Once again, she paused.

Ryker hated that he couldn't see Brynleigh right now. Was there indecision or fear in her eyes? Or worse, hurt? Was she curled in a ball on the couch, or was she pacing?

His brain had constructed an image of her, faceless and shapeless, and he wanted to fill in the blanks. He wanted to know more about her…

He wanted to know everything.

Big things and little ones, he valued everything Brynleigh shared. Each tidbit of information was a jewel he would cherish forever. No matter how much time they spent together, it was never enough for him. He always wanted more.

At that moment, Ryker realized he couldn't see Valentina again. His feelings for Brynleigh were far more potent than anything he had with the fae.

"No one hurt me," Brynleigh assured him. "I had a nightmare. It's… I get them a lot."

His chest tightened as visions of this vampire waking up screaming in the middle of the night ran through his head.

He'd had his fair share of nightmares, both due to his job and his father's illness. Waking up alone, tangled in sheets, was horrible.

"I'm sorry." His voice was rough, and his arms ached with the desire to hold her. "Do you want to tell me about them? "

A bitter laugh came through the headphones. "Why would you want to hear about my bad dreams?"

His brows tented, and he leaned forward. "Because they bothered you, sweetheart, and I care a great deal about you."

If he was honest, he could see himself more than liking Brynleigh. She made it easy for him to care about her.

This was the first time he had admitted to having feelings for the vampire out loud. He thought it would scare him to say something like that, especially after spending so many years without participating in the outside world, but it didn't.

His heart sped up as he waited for her response.

Their match was unorthodox. Ryker was the first to admit that fae and vampires didn't traditionally get along. But something about Brynleigh made him feel as if he could relax about the rules he so often followed, and the world wouldn't fall apart around him.

She hitched a breath, and when she spoke, her voice was quieter than before. "Ryker?—"

"You know if I said it, it's true." He inhaled. "I?—"

The ground beneath him trembled. A massive boom echoed. The walls rattled. Someone screamed, the sound audible despite the supposedly noise-cancelling headphones.

Jumping off the hammock, Ryker smoothly fell into a fighting stance. He called out, "Brynleigh?"

Harsh, abrupt static was the only thing he heard.

Time seemed to slow as the air in the ballroom shifted. Gone was the lightheartedness from earlier, and in its place was tense anticipation and worry.

Another tremor shook the ground. This one was worse than the last. A crack appeared on the floor in front of him.

"Earthquake!" someone yelled.

Again, Ryker shouted for Brynleigh, but there was no response. He tried Celeste next, but nothing happened.

"Fuck." He clenched his fists.

This was bad.

Philippe, the Earth Elf, dropped to the ground a few feet away. He ripped off his headphones. Tendrils of emerald magic slipped from his hands, and he placed his palms flat on the marble. The ribbons sank into the ground and disappeared.

Less than a minute later, Philippe raised glowing green eyes and shook his head. "No, this isn't an earthquake. The land has nothing to do with this."

A third tremor ripped through the building. This one was different from the first two. Closer. It stretched on and on.

Ryker's heart thundered as he fell back on his military training. He hurried towards the guards. The soldiers were already shouting orders at each other. Therian was picking up shards of glass where they'd shattered near the bar.

An ear-piercingly loud siren blared.

The image on the dividing wall shuttered, pixelating before transforming into a flashing red screen.

"Code Orange, Code Orange." Celeste's amplified voice came through a dozen hidden speakers. "Everyone within ten miles from the Hall of Choice must take cover immediately."

Ryker's blood was ice in his veins. He'd memorized these codes early on and knew them backward and forwards. Golden City was under attack.

His fingers twitched, and his magic pulsed in his veins. He needed to be out there fighting, not standing in some grand ballroom.

Ryker ran to the nearest guard. "I'm Captain Waterborn of the Fae Division." He rattled off his identification number. "What's happening?"

The guard's name tag read Orion. "I know who you are, Captain." Orion's voice was as harsh and unforgiving as his eyes. He was a military man through and through. "We're under strict orders to move all participants to the bunkers until the attack has passed."

Frustration was a churning storm within Ryker. They wanted him to sit this out like a civilian. That went against everything he believed in. "No. I can fight."

"Me, too," Therian growled, coming up behind Ryker. Black scales rippled on the shifter's skin, and his eyes flashed. His dragon was close to the surface."Let me out; I can shift."

Orion said, "No. Today, you are nothing but men going through the Choosing."

Therian swore. "You can't do that."

"We can," said Orion smoothly. "You agreed to it when you entered.

"These are obviously extenuating circumstances," Ryker said through clenched teeth.

The guard's face was as firm as stone. "I have my orders."

Clearly, Orion wouldn't budge. On one hand, Ryker respected that. On the other, worry coursed through him. Static still crackled through the headphones.

Another guard walked up, holding black strips of cloth. "I have them, sir," he said to Orion.

"What the hell?" Therian growled, exchanging a look with Ryker. "What's going on?"

The new guard, whose tag read Johnson, said, "We must take you to safety."

"We—" Ryker started, but Orion cut him off. "You cannot help," the guard said, his voice leaving no room for discussion. "The details of the attack are not for you to know. Outside these walls, you may be members of the military, but here, you are one of the twenty-four we are meant to protect."

Ryker snarled. His water magic bubbled up, demanding he fight.

A woman screamed somewhere on the other side of the wall.

Another yelled, "I'm not putting that on."

"Yes, you are," was a soldier's harsh, curt response.

The remainder of his words were muffled by distance, but another shriek echoed through the ballroom.

Ryker didn't think Brynleigh was the one yelling. She wouldn't do that. She'd probably bite someone who touched her without permission. And fuck if he didn't like that thought.

Not the time.

The siren continued to blare.

"We need to go." Orion turned to the participants, who were gathering around him. "You can't see the women. The integrity of the Choosing must be maintained. "

Suddenly, the black strips of cloth and the woman's screams made sense.

"You're blindfolding us," Ryker said.

It was a statement, not a question.

"We are," Orion confirmed.

Another tremor shook the ground.

"No more talking. We need to go." Johnson clenched his jaw. "If anyone fights us, we'll tranquilize you. There's no time for chitchat."

Allowing someone to blindfold him and lead him into a bunker went against every single grain of Ryker's being. Control was part of the very fabric of who he was. It was the reason he was so good at his job, and giving it up was not easy.

But when another woman screamed, he stepped forward.

"Do me first." He took off his headphones and placed them on the table. "I won't fight you."

Relief flashed through Orion's eyes as he lifted the black cloth and secured it around Ryker's face. The thick material was manufactured specifically so that even beings with strong senses, like fae, vampires, and shifters, couldn't see out of it.

Once Ryker was blindfolded, the others quickly followed suit. Blaring sirens and faint screams accompanied the group as they entered the basement.

Another tremor hit as they descended below the Hall of Choice.

Death was in the air today.