26

At the Guard Station, I was stopped in the outer office by an armed Sister. I didn't recognize her, and I genuinely hoped that was a show rifle like Mom's, and not the Geneva version.

"Was Roman West brought here?" I asked her. "He's a warden."

"Oh, right, the warden." She was a large woman, tall and broad, and I could see why Geneva might have put her in charge of the more important prisoners. I figured she was in her late forties, somewhere around my mom's age. "Yes, we have him here."

"And Daniel Edgar? Councilman Edgar's son?"

"The heirs are here," she said, responding to my questions, but with the bare minimum of detail.

I had what I needed, though. I didn't give a damn about the councilmen. They could rot for an eternity wherever they were being held.

I looked passed the woman's shoulder to a closed door. "Through there? I'd like to see Roman."

She shifted uncertainly. "We're not really permitting visits."

I chewed on my lower lip, sizing her up. Okay, unloaded rifle or not, there was no way I could take on this woman. Actually, she could be a four-inch twig, and I'd still probably lose. I'd never been in a physical fight in my life. I thought of some of Roman's moves from earlier, and wondered if it was time to learn.

Meanwhile, I had my fire. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course, child." A hint of a smile touched her eyes. "You've been on the screens all night."

I raised a brow at her.

"You're right, I'm sure we can allow an exception for you," she said. "I'm Patricia, by the way, and can I just say, it is such a thrill to meet you. Do you mind if I call you Georga?"

Well, that was easy.

I followed her into the belly of the Guard Station, into a long, white-washed corridor lined with closed doors. At the end of the corridor, we descended a flight of steps. At the bottom, a second woman sat behind a desk, her rifle propped against the wall.

She stiffened in her chair, saw Patricia, and relaxed.

"Special request," Patricia informed her.

Recognition lit the woman's eyes as we walked passed the desk, and I could feel her gaze on my back, following me. I wasn't entirely comfortable with the instant fame, or maybe that should be infamy, but I was grateful for the special treatment.

The corridor forked.

We went left, while Patricia pointed right. "The heirs are being held that way. We thought it best to keep them separate."

I didn't ask. At this moment, all I could think about was seeing Roman, seeing with my own eyes that he was okay.

The wall cut away into vertical iron bars. My gaze searched the dimly lit interior of the cavernous cell, and found Roman. My heart pinched. He was lying down on a bench, an arm propped under his head, his eyes closed. But he wasn't unconscious, he wasn't sleeping…he heard us outside the cell and slowly pulled himself upright, and I exhaled a slow breath.

He wasn't okay, though.

He wouldn't be resting flat on his back, at a time like this, unless his body demanded it.

It wouldn't take him this long, way too many long, long seconds to pull himself up from the bench if he were okay.

"Unlock the cell," I demanded of Patricia.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

I turned a scowling glare on her. "Open it."

"I'm sorry." She shook her head, and to her credit, she did sound sorry. But she wasn't opening the cell!

"My husband isn't involved with Capra politics," I hissed. "He's a warden. He's innocent. He doesn't belong in that cell."

"You'll have to take that up with Geneva."

I looked her up and down, searching for a ring of keys, searching for a weak point of attack, anything.

The woman read my mind.

"I don't have the keys on me, and if I did, you'd not be getting them. I probably shouldn't even have let you down here." She threw her hands up and stepped back from me. "You have five minutes. That's all I can give you."

"Georga."

My gaze spun from her to Roman.

He fisted a hand around the bars, his swollen jaw half-cocked, his split lower lip curved into the semblance of a grin. "It's okay. I'm fine."

Patricia was retreating, and I wasn't about to leave Roman to go after her, so I gave up that fight and concentrated on him. "Have you looked in the mirror? You're not fine."

I would have said he looked a hundred times worse than when he'd been torn from me in the hall, but I suspected that was just because of what he'd wanted me to see earlier. Even now, as I looked at him, the exhaustion I'd seen on him moments ago was gone, as if he'd merely willed it to be gone and it went.

But it wasn't gone, it was simply hidden.

My fingers wrapped his around the bar. "You don't always have to be so damn strong for me, Roman. I'm not that weak."

His gaze sank into me. "I've had a lot of thoughts about you since I first lay eyes on you, not all of them good, but not one, not a single thought, ever came within striking distance of thinking you were weak."

A smile slipped out. I couldn't help it, not when he looked at me like that, and said things like that. "I'm getting you out of here."

"Don't worry about me."

"Of course I'm worried about you."

"No, I mean…" He dragged his other hand through his hair, the look in his eyes less stone-baked warm now, more guarded. "These Sisters…"

He didn't seem to know how to finish that trailing thought, so I filled in. "The Sisters of Capra, and yes, I am part of them."

I remained loyal to them, loyal to the bone, but the secret was out on the streets, shooting up generals in ballrooms and hijacking Capra's communication network.

"I met with Geneva, she's our matriarch," I explained to Roman. "I told her everything, but I didn't know she was recording the conversation. I had no idea she was going to blow that up all over town. I knew nothing about what they had planned."

He studied me, his brow lowered. "And if you had known, would you have any regrets?"

My mouth opened before I realized I had no answer. Would I have regrets? Was I really so opposed to everything that had gone down tonight?

Not everything.

"Ask me again after the rubble settles," I finally said. "My point is, if I had known, I would never have let you step blindly into the mess with me."

He accepted that, and I hated that he had to ask, but I didn't blame him.

"These Sisters of Capra are efficient and organized," he went on. "It takes smarts and strategy to achieve what they did tonight. Your matriarch, Geneva, knows exactly how much they need the support of the wardens to keep the ground they've won, and to keep Capra on its feet. I'm not in any danger, and they won't hold me for long, but I'm worried about Daniel and Julian."

"I'm worried about Daniel, too," I assured him. "I plan to get you both out of here."

He pinned a soul-searching look on me. "When it comes to immediate risk, Julian is right up there, at the top."

"You're kidding, right?" I laughed. Laughed, because there was no way in hell this wasn't a joke. "Julian deserves whatever comes for him."

"Georga."

"No, don't Georga me," I muttered. "Do you seriously need me to list all that man's sins?"

"I know what he's done."

"Of course you do." I shaved off the sharp edges of my tone, because even if he'd lost his mind, I wasn't looking to argue. Not ever, and certainly not with him in his current state. "You gathered the blackmail on him. You literally just had to use that evidence to stop him and his cronies from sending me off to rehab for daring to speak the truth. Don't ask me to feel a drop of sympathy for Julian Edgar."

"I'm not suggesting you feel anything for him," Roman said. "I'm asking you to think about what the Sisters of Capra might have planned for him, for any of the men on the council."

I honestly didn't know.

I honestly didn't care.

Roman reached through the bars to cup my jaw, his thumb resting on the corner of my mouth. "The system is bigger than the individual, Georga. All that evidence I gathered against the councilmen? That was meant to be used to change the system from within, not to destroy the individual. I consider Daniel a friend, and I don't despise his father."

"Daniel is my friend, too." That's all I was prepared to give. I wasn't hard. I wasn't cold. I just didn't know how to give more. "He does not deserve to be locked up. I will do everything I can to make sure he's released."

I didn't stay much longer. The sooner I left Roman, the sooner I could return to get him out of this cell.

But I did take a small detour down the right fork of the passage to check on Daniel. He was in a similar cell to Roman's, a large, dismal space with benches along the walls and fluorescent lighting that flickered with some sort of half-life nearing its end.

He wasn't alone.

All ten of the council heirs had been put together. Other than Daniel, I knew the others only by sight. Some were men in their later years. Councilmen seldom retired. Most heirs had to wait for their fathers to drop dead on the job. Some of them were just children, dragged from their homes in Parklands.

Roman had asked me about regrets.

Well, I was not okay with this.

Daniel came forward to the bars. He looked tired, dark circles hanging beneath his eyes, but otherwise he seemed unharmed. "Georga, what the hell is going on? Have you seen my father? What was that screening about and how are you involved with these people? Who are they?"

The truth came less easily to me than I would like to admit. Daniel was looking at me with such faith, as if there was an obvious explanation for why I seemed to be associated with these mad women who'd tossed him in this cell and taken his father away.

"I'm going to get you out of here," I promised.

That's all I had time for, before the other heirs converged on me.

A middle-age man with a full beard and furiously winged brows grabbed onto the bars with both hands and shook so hard, I was afraid they'd rattle out from the walls. "You ungrateful, scheming—"

"That's enough," Daniel snapped.

The man sneered at him. "Or what, little boy?"

The way he said, boy, I placed him immediately. The Otter heir.

Two guys around our age, maybe a few years older, stepped into line beside Daniel. "Are you sure you want to start this, Otter?"

Otter's nostrils flared. "Why would you stick up for any Edgar? They're in bed with that warden and this, this—" his eyes flashed to me, pricked me.

He didn't get to finish that foul thought.

Daniel lunged forward with an uppercut to Otter's jaw. His head snapped back and blood spat from his mouth.

More heirs fell in line, some on Daniel's side, some on Otter's side. The youngest boys stayed out of it, thank goodness.

I stepped back from the bars, my heart thudding. Coming here had been a bad idea. I was making things worse for Daniel, not better.

But I couldn't just leave, either. The two sides were about to go head-to-head, and Otter's team had the older, bigger men.

I put a hand up, raised my voice. "Daniel and Julian are friendly with my husband, not with me. They've had nothing to do with me, and none of them, not the Edgars, and certainly not my husband, had any idea of what I've been involved in."

Daniel's mouth opened.

I narrowed my eyes at him in warning.

Otter didn't seem the least bit appeased. He bared his teeth at me, like an animal, and then turned that snarling look on Daniel.

"I'll get you out of here," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady, confident, firm. "All of you."

Otter looked at me, and I met that look with far more grit and steel than I was feeling in my bones.

"That's a promise," I said. "I can do it, and I will, unless you give me a reason to not give a damn about whether you live or die."

Otter still didn't look entirely convinced, but the rest of his team took the bait. They straggled deeper into the cell, leaving Otter to stand on his own.

"You had better not be lying," he said to me.

As if he still had the power to do anything about it if I were.

"I promise," I repeated, and I actually meant it.

He was an unpleasant specimen of a human being, and maybe I really would regret this decision, but he was an heir, not a councilman. I was pretty sure he'd follow in his father's footsteps, but he hadn't yet, and a man should be judged on his actions, not on what he might be capable of doing one day

I offered Daniel an apologetic smile, then I turned and fled before my presence caused another scene.