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River Cast (The Tale of Lunarmorte #2) Page 17
Author: Samantha Young

Marita seemed to look right through her, reminding Caia that she was still the phlegmatic woman she had met upstairs. “Your Daylight blood obviously overpowers the bad blood. Not to mention that you were raised Daylight.”

“I understand.” Caia gave her a tight smile, mentally squishing the rush of anger that exploded through her at the ‘bad blood’ comment. “But I just didn’t get a malevolent feeling from her.”

“Perhaps you were too far away.” Marita shrugged.

“Could you take me to her then?”

She was again surprised by the smile bestowed upon her, her eyes trying for kind and concerned. “Will that help? Will it stop whatever anxious thoughts you’ve got buzzing around in your head and get you back out of this room and back into training? You’re missing important things. Lucien is with Rose and the others, training in the simulator.”

Caia tried not to feel as if she had been slapped in the face by the mention of Rose and Lucien, together.

“It would help.”

Marita nodded regally and stood up, walking gracefully to the telephone by Caia’s bed. “Noble, can you please alert the Containment Center that I’m on my way down with Caia.”

She’d been right. The Containment Center – in other words the prison - was situated one level below Lecture Hall A. Bars rolled down from the ceiling as she passed through the ‘reception’, and rows of individual cells, where what looked like plexi-glass (the magikal kind), contained the prisoner rather than bars. Caia wondered at the other occupants who gave off no Midnight trace. They were obviously rogues. She didn’t have time to wonder too long because the trace was electrifying and sizzled through her even more intensely as Marita drew her to a halt outside a door at the very end of the corridor. It was a huge iron monstrosity with a small rectangle at the top that slid open so you could peer inside.

“She’s in here.” Marita sneered and placed her hand against the door. She muttered an incantation under her breath, obviously forgetting that Caia had supreme hearing.

Occultus atrum unus. Caia repeated the words over in her brain only to have her heart stop at the thought of why. You really do want to play with fire, don’t you?

The door swung slowly open with a forbidding creak, and Marita seemed to prepare herself before entering. Caia followed, only to feel the trace grow even stronger. The sound of the door had frightened the girl.

The door was the only source of light, but Caia could see well with her wolf eyes the hideous conditions of this prisoner’s cell in comparison to the others. She sat huddled in the corner of a bare square stone room, thick iron bars that crackled with electricity (more magik) separating her from any visitors. Her long bedraggled hair covered most of her face and knees as she pulled herself tighter into a ball. The sight of Marita terrified the girl.

A rush of pain hit Caia so fast she cried out and stumbled back.

“Are you alright?” Marita was by her side in an instant.

No, she wasn’t alright. This girl was innocent. Despite her harsh treatment she still held no ill will towards the Daylights. The only person she felt bitter towards was Marita, and yet at the same time she understood why the witch would not believe her. Of all the traces Caia had felt over the past few months, of all the feelings of antipathy towards the war, of actual goodness she thought she was picking up from the Midnights… none of those could touch this young woman for her purity of soul. There was a pearl of blissful warmth in the girl’s trace, something Caia had never encountered before. She tried to push the connection harder to discover what it meant, but all she received were the girl’s thoughts on Vilhelm, the Daylight magik, her friend. Without realizing it, she sent Caia an image of his anguished face as she was torn from him by Marita’s men.

Laila. Her name was Laila.

“Caia.” Marita shook her. “Are you alright?”

Goddess, what could she say? Marita’s eyes were narrowed in anxiety.

“Has it done something to you?” she spat, turning to glare daggers at Laila. “If this filth has managed to get her magik past these bars I’m going to have her executed.”

“No!” Caia grabbed her arm in reflex.

Marita turned to look at her slowly, uncertainty flickering across her marble face. “What is going on here?”

Lie, Cy, Lie!

Marita would have her thrown in with the girl if she knew Caia sympathized with her. Marita’s prejudice was too great for her to even contemplate that the continuing war may be a consequence of a horrendous misunderstanding on the Daylights behalf. Caia couldn’t fight this war. Not like this. But what could she do? Her powers had her trapped in it. She was obliged to stay and fight.

But how? And with whom?

One thing she did know: Laila’s time was running out, and somehow Caia had to get her out of the Center.

She cleared her throat and stood up straight and determined. “I’m sorry. The feelings... she reminded me of Ethan.”

Softness slid back into Marita’s features. “Of course.”

“You were right. A Midnight’s a Midnight. Let’s go.”

Marita nodded militantly and led her out of the cell.

Caia had to forcibly stop herself from looking back at the young woman she was now determined to save.

Lucien glanced fretfully down at Rose, who was curled up on the leather sofa in his suite. They had just finished training with Anders and Phoebe, who butted heads so often it was a wonder they were getting anything done. Lucien was worried about Caia. Mordecai mentioned an incident occurring yesterday, but she wouldn’t speak to anyone except Marita, who hadn’t been able to schedule Caia in until today. What is going on with her? He paced back and forth, running an anxious hand through his hair. She had avoided him all day yesterday.

“Lucien, sit down, you’re making me antsy,” Rose laughed, reaching up to pull him down beside her. A wash of guilt ran through him that she was in his room again. Caia wouldn’t even look at him when Rose had insisted on coming into his suite the other night. Nothing had happened between them, but Rose had revealed how terrible she felt for the way she treated him… now that she knew his not mating with her was because he couldn’t, not that he wouldn’t. Talking with her had been as easy and as natural as it used to be. She had listened patiently while he told her the story.

“So you and Caia aren’t together?” she’d asked quietly once he’d finished.

“No. We’re not.”

Her smile had been so wide that guilt had crashed around him in waves. But he had nothing to feel guilty for! Caia was not his and he was not hers.

And Rose...

He had been crazy about Rose. Being with her the last couple of days only reminded him of the good times they’d had. And she was making it obvious she wouldn’t mind taking a physical trip back down memory lane.

Thing was... Lucien wasn’t sure if he was ready to give up on the hope that Caia would come to her senses and realize they should be together.

“Seriously, Lucien, what is up?”

He shrugged and smiled at her. “Just a little worried about Caia.”

He watched as her full lips fell into a pout. “From what I’ve heard your worry is redundant. She’s a big shot around here. An all-powerful genie. Why don’t you stop worrying about Caia and start loosening up a little? I could give you a massage.” She grinned suggestively.

That did sound tempting...

A knock at the door.

“Lucien?”

“Caia?” He shot out of his seat and rushed to the door, throwing it open.

His relief at having her in his sight was washed away by her appearance. Her gorgeous eyes were round with worry and sadness, and her long pale hair looked as if she’d been tugging on it in exasperation.

“Thank goddess,” she muttered when she saw him. She strode past him with a familiar caress on his chest that sent heat rushing to his good for nothing places. “I need to talk to you, big time. Lucien, some-”

She had stopped, and he turned to shut the door realizing the cause of her disruption was Rose.

“Oh.” She threw her shoulders back. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

Rose stood up from the sofa and smiled weakly. He quirked an eyebrow as he walked towards her. That wasn’t like her. Was she frightened of Caia? Lucien almost laughed out loud at the thought, but then realized it wasn’t so funny. He guessed if he didn’t know her, the idea of Caia, a Midnight/Daylight, lykan/witch, was intimidating, if not a little frightening.

“You remember Rose?” he asked, coming to a stop by his ex-girlfriend all the while trying to catch the eye of his mate so he could determine her feelings. Caia stiffened, and her eyes narrowed on Rose, an Amazon compared to her own small stature. If he wasn’t so worried this was going to cause the rift Marita intended, he’d actually find it funny how un-intimidated Caia appeared by Rose’s height and build.

“How could I forget?”

Was that a sneer? Aw crap, she was pissed.

He felt Rose stiffen next to him and was afraid to look at the expression on her face.

“I’m Lucien’s ex-lover.”

Craaap. Ex-lover? That word... it was just so... graphic.

“I see.” Caia nodded, flashing him a hateful look. “Not so ex by the look of things.”

No, no, no, no! He took a placating step towards her. “Now, Ca-”

“Actually,” Rose interrupted, placing a hand on his arm and drawing him back towards her. “We were just discussing that. After all, you two aren’t going to commit to your mating, and Lucien and I would have been mates if he hadn’t been obligated to fulfill his father’s betrothal to you.”

Someone shoot me. Just put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. It would be more humane.

He’d squeezed his eyes closed as the words tumbled spitefully out of Rose’s mouth. How could he have forgotten the word bitch was invented by competitive female lykans?

The deafening silence in the room became too much, and he finally worked up the courage to look at Caia’s face.

He wished he hadn’t.

She was gazing at him in pain. A look likened to anguish and regret glittered in her eyes, but her face seemed pinched with resentment at the same time. Classic Caia, however, she never failed to surprise him. She fixed that gaze intently upon him and said, “I always seem to be apologizing to you these days.” She shrugged so wearily he wanted to pull her protectively into his arms. “I am so sorry.”

“What... Caia?” He frowned, gently shrugging Rose’s hand from his arm as he approached her. Anxiety, panic almost, washed over him as she took a few steps back from him.

“I’m sorry... for a lot of things. But mostly, I’m sorry that you got caught up in this more than you ever should have been. My father and yours... what they did was unforgiveable-”

“What they did was for the best... to protect you.”

“What they did was take away your choices.”

“And yours.”

She shook her head sadly, her eyes flicking quickly and bitterly to Rose and then back to him. “I haven’t lost what you have. I’m sorry you can’t be with the person you want.”

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Samantha Young's Novels
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