“And my defect?” I asked, barely audible.
His piercing gaze left me as bare as I had been with the Starlings. He smiled tightly once more, like he knew precisely what lay hidden.
“Let me worry about that, Emeline,” Collin said. “We have many moons ahead of us.”
“And the Press and the Elite?” I whispered, leaning toward the youngest member of the Illum, my soon-to-be Mate. “Should I be worried about them?”
“Yes.” Collin stared behind me, watching the Elite. “You should be.”
CHAPTER FOUR
LOUD KNOCKING JOLTED ME AWAKE. DROOL COVERED MY PILLOW, sticking my nest of tangled curls to my face. I had never been late for my shift. One night in the clouds, and I had overslept, fully dressed in my gown. There had been none of my usual dreams or restlessness—despite everything I had learned and experienced.
“Emeline,” Lo called.
“Coming.” I shot up only to trip on the golden fabric. Cursing the gown, I ripped it off, tossing it unceremoniously onto my bed before pulling on my usual gray attire, mundane in comparison. I scanned my wrist quickly and opened the door. Lo pushed her way in as the automated voice we were all forced to listen to every day began its usual report about the information the Illum’s system had gleaned from my MIND scans.
“What happened?” Lo greeted me, holding two steaming cups. She stared at the discarded gown before glancing back at me, her fear obvious. “You weren’t down there with everyone for the Pod. I got worried. I thought something had gone wrong.”
“I just overslept.” The rising sun painted my white walls in my solitary living quarters with soft pinks and yellows. I made my way to the bathroom mirror, revealing smeared makeup and a knotted mess of hair. Somehow, I had dined with an Illum last night. I turned on the water and began washing my face.
The rest of dinner had proceeded with minimal embarrassing moments. We sat in poignant silence after Collin’s warning. I ate every bite of my dinner, practicing restraint in not licking the leftover sauce off the plate. Collin’s eyes flickered between my plate and mouth like he half expected me to. The server had swept in once again, saving me. He brought us tea, a bitter concoction, and a small piece of something Collin informed me was chocolate cake.
“Before you take a bite, I am going to warn you,” Collin had advised. “This is going to make everything else you’ve eaten tonight obsolete.”
“You didn’t have what I had,” I claimed before taking a small bite. He had been right, so very right. After I devoured the cake, Collin led me back to the entrance and summoned a Pod. Promising to be in touch soon and thanking me for a memorable evening, he kissed my hand again. I had almost been able to block out the Elite necks craned in our direction.
Only when the Pod doors shut had I breathed out my relief. I had survived. Now I had to wait to see whether the contract would come through.
I toweled off my face. My matching brown eyes captured my attention. I didn’t know how long the lens would stay, but I had no intention of removing it. I attempted to tame my hair just as the automated voice finished her report.
Procreation Contract pending.
Even with Collin’s assurance he would reach out, I half expected to be informed I had been rejected. I had been brash last night, spoken out against the Illum to one of its members.
“Come here,” Lo said, taking the brush from me and gently working through my curls.
“What are you doing here? You’ll get in trouble for being late,” I said.
“Doubtful. I don’t have a Mate. They don’t watch the Mateless like they now watch you. There are too many of us to monitor all the time.” She began braiding my hair. I didn’t know if I bought her theory, but she might have a point. We didn’t know the extent of the Illum’s technology, but to track everyone all the time would be difficult. However, I knew from experience what happened to those who stepped out of line.
“Still, you have your yearly soon,” I reminded her.
She tied the ends of my hair. “I’m aware. If we grab your stuff and run, we can catch the last Pod. We’ll barely be late.” She spun me. “Let’s—” She stopped, her blue eyes wide. “Your eyes! What did they do? Is it permanent?”
“They put a lens device to cover it.” The lens itched as I said it.
“I have so many questions,” she said as the black box that delivered my nutrients dinged. I had no appetite for the mush after last night. She peered out the window. “Pod’s here. Grab your stuff.”
I grabbed my bag and followed Lo. My eyes snagged on the golden heap on my bed and the wrongness of it in the sterile white room—as out of place as I felt last night seated before Collin. I shook off my insecurities and chased after her.
Minutes later, we zipped through the city alone in our Pod. The buildings shifted from squat rudimentary brick complexes to soaring glass skyscrapers as we entered High Town. The Archives were housed beneath the tallest one.
The megastructure had columns of shiny metal and glass weaving together in a dance that threatened to touch the sun at its tip. The base, where we entered, was impossibly wide, metal pillars piercing the ground connected by sweeping arches with towering doors. I always felt they resembled the trees in old art pieces I had cataloged. There was an unyielding beauty to them. There were six others, slightly smaller yet otherwise identical to our building.
“Here,” Lo said, handing me a cup. “It’s a stimulant drink—the Majors drink it for energy.”
The aroma was a heady mix. “How do you have a drink that’s for Majors?”
