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Authors: Stoker,Shannon

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UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
12

I thought I saw the worst carnage of my life covering the war stories; I now see the error of my thoughts. We have yet to encounter a single living soul. Every area of DC is filled with corpses. The soldiers I traveled with are cleaning up the dead, but I am of little use to them. Whatever happened here is equal to, if not worse than, the terrors of war.

—­The journal of Isaac Ryland

Confrontation was never something that Grant avoided. However, between trying to placate Ian until he officially passed down the grand commander title and dealing with Roderick Rowe's questioning of his situation, Grant was forced into avoidance.

He walked through one of the secret passageways he had built to the east wing of his mansion. He had once thought the large area would house all his servants, but next to none of them desired to live on his property. Once he was grand commander that would change. Grant planned to follow Ian's lead and take many women as private wives. Technically they were government property, and since Grant would be the American government they would become his property. He even planned on stationing some ser­vicemen in his home in order to keep everyone in line. It would be a nice lifestyle lift. One a man of his wealth and stature deserved.

He made it farther into the east wing and started to realize why Dr. Schaffer had summoned him. Roderick's yelling echoed through the halls. Ever since the man had been severely injured during Amelia's escape he'd lost his short-­term memory, completely forgetting the fact that he was aiding a young woman in escaping the country. Thus far Grant had successfully convinced the man he had been in a car accident outside the capitol and Grant was caring for him out of generosity. That story was wearing thin.

“Where is my son? Why won't you let me go? I need my phone,” Roderick yelled.

Grant took a breath before entering the room. Roderick was trying to pull himself out of his bed, but the double leg casts would make it impossible to stand. Dr. Schaffer was cowering away from the irate gentleman.

“What's the problem?” Grant asked.

Rod took a few breaths and stared at Grant. The past few weeks had seemed like a standoff. Rod didn't appear to want to reveal what he knew just as much as Grant wished to keep his secrets. It looked like the boiling point had come. Rod narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together.

“Where is my son?”

“Carter said to expect his arrival early next month,” Grant said. “But between us I expect him sooner.”

Rod did not respond or break eye contact.

“Dr. Schaffer,” Grant said, “you appear a bit rattled, why don't you take a break?”

The doctor nodded his head and left the two men alone. Grant closed the door and pulled up a chair. He smoothed out his yellow and brown striped shorts and matching yellow polo before crossing his legs. He would hate to see his outfit wrinkled.

“Tell me the truth,” Rod said.

“You first.” Grant was quick to respond and let a wicked grin cross his face.

He liked to unnerve his prey and right now Roderick Rowe seemed on the verge of breaking down.

“I am not the one holding you hostage,” Rod said.

“I suppose not,” Grant said. “Tell me, did all of your memory return to you or just part of it?”

“The last thing I remember is playing cards at a neighborhood game,” Rod said. “Next thing I know I wake up here, a thousand miles from home with one of the wealthiest men in the country taking care of me.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You're being modest?”

“Oh no,” Grant said. “I am one of the wealthiest men in the world. What I meant was, I highly doubt that is all you remember.”

Rod snorted and looked away.

“If you tell me the truth I will gladly answer all of your questions.”

The man turned his eyes back toward Grant.

“I was giving assistance to your wife,” Rod said. “Helping her escape the country and the terrible life that she would have had with you. I'm assuming she was successful in her escape.”

“Momentarily,” Grant said. “Please, go on.”

“That is all.”

“Fair enough,” Grant said. “Ask away.”

“Where is my son?”

“He claims he is working with a rebel group in Guatemala.”

Rod smiled and looked relieved. “Then you lost,” he said.

“Aren't you curious why you're still alive? If I am the big loser here?”

Rod's look of relief vanished.

“I made a deal with your son. In exchange for Amelia he will get you,” Grant said. “So don't worry. The two of you will reunite shortly.”

“He would never do that.”

“Why not? Carter loves you. It makes me sick actually, but in this instance it is a bonus for me.”

“Can't you just let her be?”

“No,” Grant said. “She is a loose end and I want her tied up.”

Rod looked disgusted. Grant uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“Please, let me ask you a question,” Grant said. “What made Mia so special? You knew who I was, what resources I had at my disposal. Why did you think you could all get away?”

“You,” Roderick said. “Your interest in her makes her special.”

“So you admit that? It isn't because she is a lovely person?”

Rod looked taken aback. As if he was trying to form an answer to cover his misstep.

“Well, now we can end this charade,” Grant said. “If you're thinking about killing yourself, don't bother. I am a man of my word and once Amelia is returned to me, Carter will get your dead body. It won't change anything. The deal is done.”

“You are the worst person to ever live. You will be dead by—­”

“Sorry,” Grant interrupted. “I don't care what you have to say on that matter. Now please, let Dr. Schaffer keep looking after you. You're helpless at the moment, and causing a huge fuss won't do anyone any good.”

Grant stood up. Rod continued to hurl insults but Grant tuned him out. At least one of the ­people annoying him was taken care of. He left the room and closed the door, making sure to flip the dead bolt on the outside. Not that it mattered; a man with two broken legs wasn't capable of escape. Now if only dealing with the Ian problem could be as simple.

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
13

I combed the rest of our apartment complex; all I can find is dead bodies. I tried my best to bury the dead, but I need answers.

—­The diary of Megan Jean

As Mia forced herself to use the muscles in the back of her throat she felt like she was literally spitting out the words.

“Hmmmm,” Vivien said. “Maybe you should try to stay silent as often as possible on this voyage.”

Mia frowned at her accent coach. A knock on the door broke up her lesson and she welcomed the intrusion. Flo walked inside the room. Mia caught a glimpse of Andrew and Zack standing behind her.

“How are the lessons going today?”

“Not well,” Mia said, trying her hardest to sound French.

“That doesn't sound so bad,” Flo said.


Bonjour, mon nom est Mia.


Très bon,
” Flo replied.

“The happy house hits her heart,” Mia said, elongating the words and dragging out the H sound.

“Very good again,” Flo said.

“If only every word in the English language started with H,” Vivien said.

“Well hopefully, you won't have to speak much,” Flo said. “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me this afternoon?”

“Yes,” Mia said.

She didn't care where Flo was going, but after spending the last three days working on French customs Mia welcomed any change.

“Excellent,” Flo said.

She turned and walked into the hallway.

“Thank you,” Mia said to Vivien.

Vivien nodded her head and waved Mia off. She kept her back straight and followed Flo, hoping Vivien realized Mia was taking the lessons seriously. She tried her hardest to look like a confident diplomat.

Neither Andrew nor Zack acknowledged Mia. Andrew was born for this type of position. He always excelled at hiding his emotions. Mia wasn't sure this was the best situation for him. He had come so far since leaving her parents' farm. After being tortured by the militia he had started to open up about his problems. Now he was training himself to hide them again. She shook her head, telling herself Andrew was strong enough to not slip backward.

The town car stopped. Mia looked through the tinted glass at an ordinary building on a busy street. Flo did not move to open the door.

“I'm surprised you don't travel with more ­people,” Mia said. “You're so important. What if someone wished you harm?”

“On official business I have quite the entourage,” Flo said. “But this is a personal matter.”

She put away whatever handheld device she was using and opened the door. Zack and Andrew were already standing on the sidewalk, having traveled in a separate car. Both drivers waited with the vehicles. Flo kept her head down and went straight into the building. The signs were written in French and Mia still had no idea where they were headed or what they were doing.

A woman came out and greeted them. She wore a white pantsuit almost identical to Flo's purple one. Mia's shoulders were bare in her yellow polka-­dot sundress and she immediately regretted not changing. The two women kissed on the cheeks.

“Jeanette,” Flo said. She was referring to Mia by her fake name. “This is a very good friend of mine, Madame Dulac. Jeanette is going to accompany me on my American trip, she is the wife of an American diplomat.”


Bonjour,
Jeanette,” Madame Dulac said.

She wasted no time giving Mia a light hug and a kiss on each cheek. Mia didn't have to respond because Madame Dulac returned her attentions to Flo. The two women spoke in French and Mia couldn't comprehend a word they were saying. The group started walking and Mia followed.

Madame Dulac pushed open a set of doors and they entered a giant open room. There were children screaming and running around. They were doing a variety of activities. Some were playing with balls, others sitting in a circle clapping their hands. The ages and genders varied. All of them were smiling and their energy was infectious. One young girl stood up and pointed toward them.

“Florence,” she called.

As if on command the room went silent. All of the faces turned toward them and the whole group came running. Florence was almost tackled as she was met with hugs from the children.

Madame Dulac spoke in French and the kids started to back away.

“Good afternoon, children,” Flo said. “We have a special guest with us today, so why not demonstrate your English skills for her. This is my good friend Jeanette.”

“Hello, Jeanette,” the children said.

“Can I show you my new painting?” one of the children asked Florence.

“No, come see mine,” another said.

“I want to show you the new trick I learned,” yet another said.

Soon they were all vying for Flo's attention.

“I promise my afternoon is yours,” Flo said. “Let us start with the artwork.”

There was a cheer and Flo was dragged off by a group of children. Mia remained still, unsure of whether or not to follow as Andrew and Zack had. Madame Dulac walked up to Mia and stood next to her.

“As you can see our children's homes are quite different from those of your country,” she said. Her voice was cold.

“What is this place?” Mia asked.

“You throw your boys out and your government raises them as savages,” Madame Dulac said. “In France we cherish our youth. Even those who don't have parents.”

“Where are their parents?”

“Some have died, others didn't want their children,” Madame Dulac said. “Others are not fit to raise them. We take in these little ones and help them.”

Mia didn't know how much to let Madame Dulac know. This woman seemed to believe Mia supported the American way of raising boys. Flo had not instructed Mia to let her believe otherwise. There was a tug on the bottom of Mia's dress. She turned to see a small girl smiling through her missing teeth.

“You speak English?”

Mia nodded.

“I know a song,” she said.

Mia bent down to the girl's height.

“I would love to hear it,” Mia said.

The girl cleared her throat and, in a voice that could not yet appreciate the concept of pitch, started to sing.

“Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes,” she sang.

Mia smiled as the girl touched her corresponding body parts. She continued on singing, finally ending with her tongue sticking out. Mia let out a laugh and clapped her hands in approval before the young lady ran off to join her friends.

“We will make sure she grows up educated,” Madame Dulac said. “That she will care about herself more than finding and pleasing a man.”

“What makes you think that's all I care about?” Mia asked.

“Isn't that all American females care about?” Madame Dulac asked. “I suppose it's not your fault. You're only a by-­product of the system you were raised in.”

She wanted to laugh at that comment. This woman had no clue what Mia had been through and her presumption was preposterous. “Trust me when I say I care about more than my husband,” Mia said.

“Like what?” Madame Dulac asked. “Please, enlighten me.”

Mia cared about stopping the Registry and the injustice in America, but she couldn't share that with this woman. She struggled to think of another answer, but that was all her life had been. First caring about landing a husband, then caring about escaping her husband, and now rescuing the women back home. Madame Dulac made a smug face.

“That's what I thought.”

She turned and walked away, leaving Mia stunned. Flo came back into the main room, followed by Andrew and Zack. Mia cared about Andrew an awful lot, but even that wouldn't have been a good enough answer for Madame Dulac, or for Mia. It had taken coming here for Mia to realize it, but at this point in her life she didn't have a clue what type of person she was.

BOOK: The Alliance
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