Authors: DelSheree Gladden
Tags: #destroyer, #guardians, #trilogy, #guardian, #inquest, #trilogy books, #dystopian fiction, #dystopian fantasy, #dystopian trilogy, #dystopian young adult, #libby, #dystopian thriller, #dystopian earth, #trilogy book, #diktats, #milo
Inquest
Also by DelSheree Gladden
Book One of the Twin Souls Saga
Book Two of the Twin Souls Saga
Book Three of the Twin Souls Saga
Book Two of the Destroyer Trilogy
Coming Christmas 2012
Book Two of the Destroyer Trilogy
Coming 2013
Of The Destroyer Trilogy
By DelSheree Gladden
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2012 DelSheree Gladden
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
If you would like to share this book with another person, please
purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading
this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your
use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your
own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author
For my husband, Ryan,
my toughest critic and biggest fan.
He always makes my books better.
Thanks so much to my fellow writers on The Next Big
Writer who helped me get this book into shape for publishing, and
for their support during the process. Thank you Ann Everett, Linda
Ulleseit, Apryl Baker, Angela Fristoe, Nancy DeMarco, Maggie Banks,
Tess Black, Terri Wood, Madison Ready, Diane Shelton, C.E. Jones,
Arianna Sofer, and Ingrid Seymour.
Thank you to my family and friends who have read, and
re-read this book in order to give me their invaluable insights. I
owe an especially big thanks to my husband, Ryan, for spending
nearly as much time as I did with this series, for reading all
three books several times and helping me fill in holes, spot
errors, and keep my characters likable and entertaining.
________________________________________
Book 2 Preview -
Secret Of Betrayal
Chapter 1
Imagined
Perfection
I never
thought someone I loved would try to kill me. But when you know
you’re going to do something worse, does that make it okay? Should
you hope for that person to succeed?
The numbers on
my phone glare back at me, reminding me that I only have six hours
left to live. Guardian law is absolute. Another minute passes and
the urge to hide grows. It’s a familiar feeling. One I’ve quietly
obeyed most of my life. Hide my talents, my power, my destiny. Lie
when I’m questioned. Do whatever it takes to keep my secret safe.
I’ve gotten pretty good at it, but it won’t matter in six hours. I
will be revealed for who and what I am, and there’s nothing I can
do to stop it.
I just wish my
best friend, Jen, would stop talking about it so I can put it out
of my mind. Not that she knows what is going to happen tonight, of
course, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to snatch the hot
pink daisy right out of her bouncy blond hair and stuff it in her
mouth. Keeping myself from breaking down into a trembling puddle of
fear is hard enough without her non-stop jabbering.
“I can’t
believe in a few hours you’ll have a new name, Libby.”
Neither can I,
but I say, “What’s the big deal, Jen? It’s just my Inquest.
Everyone goes through theirs. It’s the law. Everyone gets a new
name they never even use. Everyone goes on with their lives like
nothing happened. It’s not a big deal.”
“What about
your talents being unlocked, and the diktats? Those are definitely
a big deal.”
My fingers
subconsciously rub the smooth skin of my left wrist. It won’t stay
smooth for much longer. After my Inquest, the diktats will mar me
for the rest of my life, however short that might be.
Jen notices me
poking at my skin and raises a smug eyebrow. I turn away from her
before she thinks too hard about what wrist I was fiddling with and
shove a book back into my locker. When I slam the door shut,
irritated that she’s seeing through my false confidence, her
expression is even haughtier. Her green eyes pierce me in a way
that makes me look away. Despite the fact that I wish she’d just
leave me alone right now, Jen’s ability to see through my bravado
is why she’s my best friend. I need someone who can keep me
grounded.
“Well, I can’t
wait for my Inquest,” Jen says. “I think getting a new name and
finding out what my talents are and what job they’ll assign me to
is going to be awesome.”
“I already
know what my talents are. Painting, sketching, give me a pencil or
a brush and I’ll do whatever you want with it. Those are my only
talents.” At least as far as anyone else knows those are my only
talents. And I am praying my guts out that it will stay that way.
The Inquisitor is old, really old. Maybe he won’t see anything in
me tonight. That’s my only hope now, and it’s a pretty slim one.
“Why do I need some old man to tell me I’m going to be an artist?
My school schedule isn’t even going to change. Nothing is going to
change. The whole thing is just a big waste of time.”
“Those aren’t
the talents I’m talking about, and you know it.”
Now it’s my
turn to feel superior. My dark eyebrows lift in a smirk. “Oh
really? Why do you think I prefer organic oil paints, or why I use
natural horsehair brushes over synthetic? Why don’t I ever wear
fabrics that aren’t made of natural fibers?”
Jen’s berry
colored lips pop open in excitement. “You think Naturalism is going
to be one of your talents? That’s great, Libby. You’ll be in the
Creator class, then. If you have a Common name you’ll be screwed,
stuck in some boring job like a gardener or something. A Warrior
name would be a little better, but not much. An Iconic name,
though, you’d be scooped up as a state-funded artist for sure. That
would be so awesome!” She pauses, her enthusiasm waning. “Knowing
so much already kind of ruins the surprise, though, doesn’t
it?”
“My thoughts
exactly. I already know what the Inquisitor is going to tell me.
Why go?”
“Why? Because
the Guardians will hunt you down and drag you back to the
Inquisitor if you try to run away from your Inquest, that’s why.
Besides, you don’t know everything,” Jen reminds me. “You still
have to find out your name. There’s no way you can know that
already.”
I roll my eyes
and lean against my locker. Two bulky guys from the football team
rumble down the hall, pausing in their heckling of each other to
look over at us. After seeing that my boyfriend, Lance, isn’t
around, they turn away without acknowledging me. I frown at them
before reluctantly turning my attention back to Jen. I really wish
she would just drop the subject all together and let me focus on
trying not to throw up. “Who cares what my name is going to be?
Like I said before, nobody ever actually uses their true name. I
don’t see the point in even getting one.”
“You of all
people should want a new name.”
“It will
probably be awful, anyway.”
Flopping
against the locker next to me, Jen lets out an exasperated breath.
“Your parents already covered that one. I mean, seriously, who
would ever choose Libitina? You’re named after a roman death
goddess, for crying out loud! Like any kid wants that following
them through school. Creepy. It sounds like some kind of Goth
ballerina freak. Your parents must have been high, or
something.”
“It’s an old
family name, supposedly.” I’m more inclined to believe that my mom
knew she’d hate me from the moment she met me.
“What, did
your family pop out of a Bram Stoker novel or something? Anyway,
there’s no way you’d get stuck with another name like that. Fate
can’t be that cruel.”
“Clearly you
don’t know me very well, then,” I say. If something bad could
happen, it would happen to me. A dozen broken bones, various
serious injuries, embarrassing stories, that’s me. I am a magnet
for unfortunate situations. Granted, most of those mishaps were
caused by either my own stupidity or some brilliant idea I had, but
still.
“Well, it’s
too bad the best name the Inquisitor could give you is also the
worst one. Despite how horrible it would be to actually get it,
I’ve always liked the name Cassia. It sounds so ancient and
regal.”
I turn so I’m
facing her directly. “There is nothing regal about that name,” I
snap. “I can’t believe you’re even mentioning it. Please, Jen. I
have some trig to finish during lunch. Let’s go already.”
“Aren’t you
even a little bit nervous about tonight?” Jen asks.
I have to lie
again. “No.”
I hate lying
to Jen, but I can’t let her see how scared I am or she’ll know I’m
hiding something. Jen can be relentless when there’s a secret
nearby. There is a reason her articles on the school blog are the
most read, hottest thing on the page. They might be the only thing
anyone actually reads.
“Excited?” she
asks.
I shake my
head.
“Scared?”
Before I can
shake my head again I feel someone’s arms wrap around my waist.
“Scared about what?” Lance asks.
“Her
Inquest.”
Lance leans
his head down and kisses my neck, making me sigh. His sandy blond
hair tickles my skin as he moves to kiss my forehead. “There’s
nothing about an Inquest to be scared of,” he says. “Unless you
have a problem with pain.”
“Thanks,” I
say, but my fingers wind around his where I can feel the raised,
scarred flesh of the diktats that run along the inside of his
wrist. His right wrist, exactly where they’re supposed to be.
Feeling them makes me shiver. I have a huge problem with pain. I
can handle it with the best of them, given my vast experience with
it, but for that same reason even the idea of being hurt makes me
start smelling hospital antiseptic. That scent sends me into a
panic quicker than anything else.
The chime of
Jen’s phone makes her whip it out of her pocket at lightning speed.
Her fingers flash across the screen as she brings up the text
message she just received. An instant later she groans and stuffs
the phone back into her pocket.
“Speaking of
pain, I’ve gotta go.”
I can’t help
the bubble of pleasure that I won’t have to listen to her badgering
me about my Inquest. Still, her mention of pain forces guilt into
my mind and presses my best friend button. “Go where? We’ve still
got three more classes.”
“Remember? The
dentist?” I shake my head at her. She shrugs and continues. “Oh, I
thought I told you my mom was checking me out for a dentist
appointment. One of my fillings cracked and I haven’t been able to
drink a soda in days.”
Rolling my
eyes dramatically, I say, “Oh, dear, you poor thing. You’d better
hurry. I wouldn’t want you to die from lack of carbonation.”
With a flip of
her long, blond hair, she sticks her nose in the air. “You’ll feel
really terrible if I keel over dead and miss your Inquest.”
“Actually,
that might be the only thing that would get me out of my Inquest.”
I almost feel like it would be worth it. Guilt for my dark thoughts
crashes against my carefully controlled emotions, and I have to
bite the inside of my cheek to hold onto my composure. For once,
Jen doesn’t notice my internal struggle.