“It is a metaphor,” I murmur, because it’s different than what it seems. Noticing the room has two walls that are pure glass, I walk toward them. As I get nearer to the window, I take in the panorama of Rafe. Several higher skyscrapers have glass enclosed skywalks that link buildings together. In the distance, there are more streams of traffic and in the sky above, there’s a dome over the city, like a shield.
I move around the long, glass conference table to get closer to the window. “Fay Kricket, you’ll remain here while I speak to the wigg and the mediator assigned to your case.”
“Where are we—what city is this?” I ask absently.
“This is the Isle of Skye; it’s the capitol,” Ustus answers.
“What’s that?” I point to the sky before crossing my arms over my chest.
Coming closer to me, Ustus grunts, “It’s a screen.”
“What does it do?”
“It blocks some UV rays, it filters pollution before it can contaminate the environment and it’s a defensive shield,” he smiles reluctantly.
“How does it work?” I watch the arch over the city glow like an iridescent bubble.
“Do I look like an engineer?”
“Why can’t I be in the room while you discuss my future?”
“Because it’s already decided.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“You’ll live at the palace here in the Isle of Skye for now.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll have gifts…gifts that will make you very valuable.”
“How do you know that?”
“You’re the daughter of an Alameeda priestess…it’s a certainty. Had you been male, it may have been different, but genetically, female offspring always inherit the trait.”
“Always?”
“Always,” he replies, and I close my eyes, feeling like I’m going to cry. Seeing my expression, he says, “You may like the palace—”
“Don’t.” I hold up my hand. “I really don’t want to hear it.”
“Fine. I’m posting agents outside the door,” he frowns at me before turning and leaving the room. When I’m alone, I sink into a chair, staring out the window, not really seeing anything at all.
It can’t be more than fifteen minutes later when the door opens again. Glancing over my shoulder, my heart leaps into my throat when Trey closes the door behind him. He looks incredible in a long, tailored vest that’s dark gray pinstripe with dark, tailored pants and very expensive-looking black boots. He looks thinner somehow…less muscular than he appeared in his uniform—or in the shower.
“Trey!” I say, bolting to my feet and grinning. “How did you find me? What are you doing here?” I rush toward him.
He frowns at me, and there’s something in his eyes that makes me stop before I do something impulsive, like throw my arms around him. Searching his face as he’s assessing me like he has never seen me before, I take a step back, realizing that he isn’t Trey.
“You’re not Trey.” I say, confused and disappointed.
“No. I’m Victus,” he replies, placing a communicator on the glass surface and taking a seat at the head of the conference table. “My brother asked me to come.” He seems completely irritated with the fact that he’s here now.
“You’re twins,” I say stupidly.
“He said you were smart,” Victus replies in a derogatory way.
“Why did he ask you to come?” I wonder, feeling a blush creeping into my cheeks at his last comment.
“He said he’s concerned about you,” he answers, as he looks me over again from head to foot.
“Oh,” I murmur, taking a seat as much to hide from his assessment of me as to sit before my knees show him that I’m shaking. “Why didn’t he come then?”
“He wanted to come himself, but he’s required to meet with Skye and he could not refuse.”
“What did he say?” I feel something stir inside of me at the knowledge that Trey is concerned about me.
“He sent me this.” Victus holds up his communicator, showing me the picture of Trey and me together on the trift. “Do you know how damaging this can be to his reputation?” Victus asks me accusingly.
Shaking my head and feeling my face becoming redder at Victus’ scowl, I find my voice enough to say, “No.”
“Trey is practically engaged to a childhood family friend. This could end that, not to mention that the breech of confidentiality in his line of work could come with severe penalties.” Victus seethes.
All my elation is crushed in that moment. Feeling instantly sick to my stomach, I look down. “Erase it,” I say in a small voice, not looking at his face. “I won’t tell anyone. I—”
“What do you want?” Victus sounds angry. “Are you blackmailing him?”
“What?”
“Why would he risk everything to send me this?” Victus scowls.
“I don’t know,” I murmur, “we’re friends—”
“He has all the friends he needs. He doesn’t need an Alameeda priestess for a friend. So, whatever you’re doing to him, I want you to stop,” he demands. “In exchange, I will help you with your case. What do you want? A reduced sentence? Currency?”
My eyebrows pull together in a frown. “Oh, that’s so gross,” my lips twist into a scowl, feeling like he kicked me in the stomach. “You think I’m doing something to Trey? Like what?”
“I don’t know. You’re the priestess. You tell me,” he glares at me again.
“Ugh, this is…too much,” I mutter, putting my face in my hands. “You have no right—I’m not what you think I am. I’m just a human being,” I stammer, feeling like I’m choking. “At least, I was last week—now I’m…some total freak.”
“What are you talking about?” Victus asks in confusion. He looks so much like Trey that it hurts that much more to see scorn in his eyes. “You’re not human.”
“How much do you know about me?” I bite my lip so I won’t cry.
“I didn’t get details—just that you’re an Alameeda priestess. Trey couldn’t tell me about his mission. He just insisted I help you and the picture he sent is telling.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing I won’t like his answer.
“Are you lovers?”
“No.” My heart twists again.
“You’re lying.”
“Why do you say that?” He looks me over again and I straighten in my chair. “You know what? Get out!” I point to the door.
He straightens in his chair, like I just insulted him. “I’ll leave when I’m finished,” he says, narrowing his eyes.
“Ohhh, you’re so finished, Victus,” I state, getting up from my seat and walking back to the window.
“I want your word that you’ll leave my brother and my family alone,” he follows me to the window.
“Done,” I promise. “Goodbye.”
“What?” he asks, looking surprised.