Heightened: The Federation Series Read online

  A hard blow wakes me, and I moan in pain. I can’t see anything, but I am choking up blood; I can taste it.

  “Get up!” another blow to my ribs.

  I can’t move. I’m ready to die. I close my eyes; I want to fall asleep, find her in my dreams.

  “You’re not getting out of it that easy,” the voice is cruel, “pick him up and bring him to the infirmary. We need to patch him up so I can beat some more.”

  I can feel them carrying me, each movement causes blinding pain. I vomit. I close my eyes and beg death to take me.

  When I wake up again, I’m in a bed. I look around the room. I still only can see out of one eye. I’m hooked up to a machine and an I.V. I feel pain but it is tolerable. I look down at my chest; I’m wrapped up in bandages, all around my middle. I have no clothes on. I look around the room. My pants are on a chair. I try to stand up but fall back to the bed.

  “How are you feeling?” another voice; this one is soft and sweet.

  I open my eyes. My vision is blurry. I see a shadow with dark hair framing a pale face. I squint. I reach out for her. Something grabs my hand, and I close my eyes, hoping for darkness to take me again.

  I hear the soft voice, “Why did you do that?”

  “Emma,” I whisper. They ignore me.

  “He is dangerous,” a deeper voice speaks. “Don’t let him touch you.”

  “He can hardly move,” again the soft voice, “he’s so close to death. Why keep him alive?”

  “We need him,” the deep voice is sharp and cold.

  “Is he awake?” a different voice, a male but smaller.

  Someone shakes me.

  “Open your eyes,” the small, male voice.

  I obey. I see them. I look at the women; she is not the one I seek. Her eyes are dull and brown. I can’t remember the face, but I will never forget the eyes, icy blue, deep and dark.

  “Is the receptor ready?” the deep voice says. “I need him to feel pain, fear, loss, and every other emotion.”

  Someone picks up my hand and sets it gently on the receptor. It must have been the soft voice; the women. I look at her. I see pity in her eyes.

  “I want him heightened,” says the small male voice.

  I can feel myself ooze with fear.

  “That’s interesting,” the man says, “he’s already heightened.”

  “A broken Defense officer,” another man says. “He won’t be worth anything.”

  “I’m going to be short and sweet,” the small male voice says. “We have her and we’re going to kill her, as soon as she is no longer is useful to our cause.”

  “Why,” I ask?

  “Here’s your last chance to be the hero,” he says. “If you give us your access codes; I promise to shot her in the head and not pass her around to each and every jackass in the Under.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I say. “I think she’s already dead.”

  “And you’re willing to take that chance?” he says. “I guess I was wrong about you. I think I will have my turn with her, as soon as she gets back from the North City. Black took her for a test run…bait for Rizzio.”

  “No!” I sit up and try to swing at him by I collapse in pain.

  He doesn’t miss; he hits me square in the jaw. I groan in pain.

  “Oh yeah,” he says. “She should be wrapped tight against him right now…I heard he’s rough: breaking and cutting. I wonder if she’s thinking of you; if your face is all that is keeping her sane.”

  I jump up, ignoring all the pain. I throw myself at him; hitting him with every ounce of energy that I can manage. I knock him over, and he lands hard on the floor.

  He gets up, and all I remember is his fist, coming right at my face.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Emma

  I look at myself in the mirror. I am not the person staring back at me. She is cold and distant. I look closer at myself. My eyes; I see them, accusing and disappointed. I smooth my hand across my abdomen. I feel the transition from silk to skin.

  Ian slips himself behind me; his hands join mine, resting on my hips. He pulls me gently into him. He pulls my hair off my shoulder, revealing my neck and grazing my skin with a well-placed touch. I shudder; chills ripple down my body.

  I look at my face. I can’t see the bruise, and the swelling is gone. He was right; he fixed me. But I still look cold, dark and forbidden.

  I watch him, as he kisses me. Every inch of me is heightened; my body is begging for more, but my heart is resisting with every beat. I close my eyes, and I see Quinn. I’m breaking promises and betraying him. A single tear falls down my cheek. I ache. My heart is shattered, but I know he will be safe and that is all that matters. I concentrate on Quinn; his face, eyes, and they way his lips fit perfectly against mine.

  My body, my desires are my outward attachment to this world. But my mind, my heart; they are the true reflection of who I am. I am determined but weak. I have enough will and fight left in me to help Ian, to ensure Quinn survives.

  I open my eyes. My dress is black silk. A single strap drapes over my right shoulder, continues down my body, caressing my skin. It covers my breast, wrapping around my left side, and then splitting into three pieces that wrap around to my front The silk gathers together and drapes into a cascade of silk, all the way to my toes; a single diamond dangles from my neck. I am breathtaking.

  He looks into the mirror. Our eyes meet. A darkness that chills me to the core lingers deep in his stare. His words, his promises are empty. In my grasping for hope and salvation, I had allowed myself to believe. But I still cling to the hope that with the act of my betrayal and my sacrifice that Quinn will be saved. It is all that I have left to believe in. I am already dead

  “I would love to stay here and show you what life is like unrestricted,” he says, “but we have plans.”

  We head downstairs. I can’t look at him, or talk. All I can think about is Quinn; he is all that matters. My heart is breaking, but I am willing to do anything to keep him safe. Even if that means I allow Ian to take my body because my heart and mind are Quinn’s.

  Words are useless to us. I drape my hand on his arm and take a deep breath. We enter the room. All eyes are on us. Ian is a handsome man with a reputation that makes everyone stop and take notice. He is feared.

  I am a forbidden jewel adorning his dark persona. My mind is a wreck, but my façade is like alabaster: perfect and pristine. I float on a shadow of misery and desire. I am the smoke and mirrors to his trick.

  We are noticed immediately by Rizzio. I don’t have to be introduced. His eyes meet mine in a dance of fire and pain. He leans into the man sitting with him, and he turns away.

  I feel Ian’s hand tighten around my waist. He is pleased. I smile. He leads me to a table. There are two men and two women gazing up at me.

  “Gentlemen,” Ian says. “I’d like you to meet Emma.”

  They exchange their pleasantries. I hear their words, and I respond, but my mind has not averted from the man drinking whiskey at the end of the bar. He steals a glance. I smile at him. I know my part. I’m the bait.

  “Darling,” I say, “I’d love a drink.”

  “Anything for my love,” he says. Too much I think, but the others seem to enjoy the drama.

  He kisses me. I watch the man. He looks at us. We make eye contact, briefly before I look away.

  Ian leaves but I can see him at the bar. He looks back at me, after a quick glance towards Rizzio. I chat with the other women at the table. It seems that the North City and the West City are not very compliant with some of the Federation laws. They are border cities with Canada. Apparently a lot of trade and business is conducted across the border, and the Federation is willing to bend rules to accommodate for the purpose of good relations.

  Ian returns with our drinks. He hands me a tall, twisted glass with swirls of red, yellow and orange alcohol. I taste it; it burns, but I swallow and take another sip. This time it’s fruity followed by a numbing slow burn. I can fee
l it spread throughout my body. First my face and then my chest, until it reaches my fingers and toes; I set the drink down.

  Our food arrives, and the conversation dulls. I take a few bites; the food is delicious. I didn’t realize how hungry I am. I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch, and that was almost 9 hours ago.

  I take a few more sips of my drink. My shoulders slump, and I feel relaxed. I muddle my way through my meal, enjoying every bite and only half listening to the conversations.

  “Emma?” he touches my arm, looks at me and then averts his eyes over my shoulder.

  I look up and see Rizzio standing behind me.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  I look at Ian. He gives me a slight nod of approval and then kisses my cheek. I look back to Rizzio and take his hand. He leads me out to the dance floor.

  My stomach is fluttering. I’ve never danced with a man before. I have no idea what to do. He must sense my hesitation.

  “I promise I will return you,” his voice is confident, “better than I found you.”

  I glance over to Ian. My mind is racing. Rizzio is not a Federation citizen; he can leave the country. A small fire ignites within me; perhaps I can convince him to take me and Quinn across the border. I wonder what the price would be for such a crime.

  I see Ian tense; he sits straight in his chair. He must realize that I am not under his control at this exact moment. His gaze is enough to make me think twice. He already warned me.

  Rizzio lets his hand slip too far. I sigh, a week ago I would have been an uncontrollable mess of heat and desire, but now I’m aware but calculated in my responses. I am in control for the first time, in a long time.

  “What are you doing with Black?” he asks.

  I’m confused. I decide to act casual. “It just makes sense.”

  “Ah, I see. Why wouldn’t the leader of the Under, have the most beautiful woman on his arm,” he laughs?

  “Exactly,” I’m confused, I’m always confused.

  “Well Black seems very interested in you,” he says. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since we started dancing.”

  I look over to him. A shiver erupts from inside of me; what is Ian’s plan for me? What does he expect me to do?

  Rizzio pulls me closer. I can feel him against me. I look at him. He’s older than I am. He has dark hair and dark skin. His eyes are a dark brown with a golden hue around the edges. He is handsome.

  The music stops, and I loosen my grip on him. He takes my hand, and he leads me towards the bar. He speaks to the bartender, and he pulls me away. I look over my shoulder. Ian is standing and staring at us.

  Is this supposed to happen? Is it part of the plan? I look to Ian. He looks angry. I can feel my chest tighten and my stomach twist. I take a deep breath. I can’t panic. I have to keep calm.

  I have no choice but to follow Rizzio. He leads me out into the hall. Two men in black uniforms meet us and follow behind us. We enter the elevator and head to the top floor. When the doors open, we step out into a round room; on the opposite side is a set of double doors. One of the uniformed men opens the door to us, and we enter a room, unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

  “Do you like it?” he asks.

  “It’s amazing,” I say. “Why am I here?”

  “Cut right to the chase,” he says, “I like that. I’m successful, not because I am smart, but because I am aware.”

  I don’t say a word.

  He sits on a dark leather couch. A woman in a laborer uniform appears and pours him a glass of wine.

  “Would you like some?”

  I shake my head,” No.”

  He pours me a glass anyways. He sets it on the table and motions for me to sit with him.

  I do, but I keep my distance.

  “Do you have any idea what you’re getting involved in?” he asks. “You seem like a nice kid, but you are involved with Black.”

  “We are in love,” I say.

  “Is that what he told you?”

  “I am aware of my duties,” I say.

  “What are they?” He asks.

  “It’s not important,” I say.

  A knock at the door breaks the uncomfortable moment.

  “That will be Black,” he says.

  A man leads him in. He stands, flanked by the two uniformed men. He doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Why all the theatrics,” Rizzio asks? “Why, the bait?”

  “She’s not bait; she’s tender.”

  “Really?” he looks at me. “Who is she?”

  “Adam’s fiancée,” he says.

  “Oh my,” he says. “What do you want?”

  “Weapons,” he says. “I need enough to arm my men and ammunition.”

  “Done,” he says. “Take him and give him what he wants.”

  He smiles at me. I feel like someone just kicked me in the gut. I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything right; even trying to kill myself to save the others.

  Ian looks at me, right in the eyes. My heart is sinking. How could I have been so foolish? I trusted him, even though he is the leader of the Under and a criminal and a murderer.

  He looks back at me before he steps onto the elevator. There’s something about his eyes; he looks to Rizzio and back to me.

  The tears are starting to form. I don’t want to cry. It seems like I spend more time with my tears than I do with any other emotion. Maybe someday, I will know what tears of joy are like.

  CHAPTER FORTY- TWO

  Quinn

  Someone is yanking on my wrists. I try to open my eyes but I can’t the pain is too intense.

  “Calder,” I hear a man’s voice. “Get the Hell up.”

  I groan. Someone grabs me and forces me into a sitting position. I swing; my arms limp and weak.

  “Nice try,” Max’s voice.

  I open my eye. It is Max.

  “We need to get out of here,” He says. “Can you walk?”

  “I…” my head is spinning. “Yeah, I can.”

  I stand up, and Max grabs a hold of me. He is bigger than I am, and he has no problem lugging me along. We step out into the hall, and Smith is waiting there with Chris; the man from last week’s trip to the Under.

  I don’t remember much about getting out of there. I wake up in a car. I can see the night sky. I look next to me; Smith is loading a gun.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “Sorry, we didn’t have time to drop you off,” he says. “You’re fucked up.”

  “You didn’t answer me,” I say.

  “We convinced one of them to tell us where they took Emma,” he said.

  “Why are we in a car?”

  “Looks like Anthony Benson has returned from the wastelands,” he says. “He’s Ian Black. I don’t know how we missed it.”

  “I know,” I say. “I saw him.”

  “Well he seems to be planning something big,” he says.

  “Where is she?”

  He doesn’t say anything. He looks up front to Max and Chris.

  “Where the Hell is she?”

  “He took her,” he says. “He’s going to trade her for weapons.”

  “Who,” I ask?

  “Rizzio,” he says.

  I can feel the heat rise inside of me. I can’t think. It was hours ago that I saw them together. We might be too late. Rizzio could have her out of the territory by now.

  “I’m going to kill him!”

  CHAPTER FORTY- THREE

  Emma

  I edge away from him. “Have a drink of wine,” he smiles at me.

  “I’m not thirsty,” I say.

  “Black is an ass,” he says. “I’ve never liked him much.”

  “So why do business with him?” I say.

  “It’s profitable for me,” he says. “I need contacts and he is the big dog in the Unders of the Federation.”

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” he says. “I have plans and I need different kinds
of contacts in the Federation. There are big changes coming, even Black can’t control what’s happening.”

  “You’re not going to get anything from Benson,” I say. “He doesn’t care about me.”

  “There’s always a way,” he says. “I need you to do me a favor.”

  I sigh, here we go, “What?”

  “I need a meeting with Atticus,” he smiles.

  “How can I arrange that?” I say. “I’m not important.”

  “You’ll find a way,” he says. He looks up at another uniformed man. “Please escort Miss Greene back to the East City.”

  “I’m not good at this stuff,” I say.

  “It doesn’t matter if you’re good, or not,” he says, “as long as you have the proper motivation.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “If you don’t deliver Atticus to me,” he snarls. “I will kill Officer Calder.”

  The tremor rocks through my body. I can’t control it. I can feel my knees weaken, and my heart slams against my ribs. How could he know about Quinn? All my efforts have failed; now he’s in more trouble than he was before.

  “Just kill me,” I say.

  “The fact that you are willing to die,” he smiles, “tells me I can’t count on you to deliver.”

  “It’s the same as Mandy,” I say, “I can’t do this; I’m not important enough to matter to Atticus. Quinn is as good, as dead.”

  “Maybe, I’ve miss judged you,” he says. “Maybe you don’t love him as much as you think. Are you willing to take a chance? Are you willing to risk his life; just because you are afraid and insecure?”

  “Please,” I beg, “it’s impossible. I’ll do anything else…anything.”

  “While, tempting,” he touches my cheek, with the back of his hand. He sighs. “You are more useful to me as a pawn and more profitable. It always boils down to power and money.”

  I turn my face away.