Exported [Book 3 in the Expiring Series]

28 My Choices

Iris~~

We follow Andrew and Basile down the stone steps behind the fireplace. I keep expecting to hear my name whispered in my head and for my Mark to start burning.

We reach a landing with a metal door in the wall. Though the steps continue downward, Andrew steps up to the door and stares into a black screen beside it. With a hiss the door parts into two panels, revealing a second room.

Inside the walls are made of a stone that's such a dark gray it's almost black. An entire wall is covered in tv screens that are powered down, and computers and leather-bound books fill spaces on oak tables. Around the corner is a separate chamber portioned off with either plastic or glass on the two sides that the stone walls can't reach. The stone lines the base of the glass of the rectangular chamber. As Andrew leads us farther inside the main room, I get a better look at the chamber and reel back into Erik's chest, the blood rushing out of my face, arms, and legs, leaving me weak and shaky. It's a shooting range. Two silhouette targets stand at the end, their chests littered in holes. Jonas's face is taped to the head of one, mine to the other. In the center of each forehead is a hole.

Andrew did recognize me. He knew who I was. Of course, he would; he's been practicing shooting me.

"What is this, Andrew?" Erik's voice is deep, a warning.

Andrew cocks his head, eyes innocent. "My play area."

Weapons cover the walls of a separate room to our right, like my uncle's bunker.

Colton clenches his hands into fists, and Andrew looks at him. "Do you have a problem with my decorating, dear cousin?" he asks.

Is Basile supportive of that? Would the whole world be? To them, Jonas is evil. They don't know him as my Jonas, just as the Preeminence of Elleany.

Colton starts to say something, but Andrew holds up a finger.

"Uh-uh-uh. You want my help, don't you? Access to all that I have here? Tell me you love my decorations."

Colton works his jaw, the muscles in his neck straining. "I love your decorations."

Andrew grins something viscous. He turns to me, grabbing my arm and yanks me into the chamber with a strength I didn't know he had. He uses his hands to force me to stare at Jonas, at the vacant expression the picture captured. At the holes littering his body. I close my eyes.

He leans toward my ear. He traces his finger over the skin near the crease of my eye. "Eyes open, darling." He taps his finger against my skin.

I force my eyes open, gritting my teeth.

"Tell me how beautiful my version of the Preeminence is."

I keep my lips clamped.

"Andrew," Erik snaps, "cut this out."

Andrew's fingers dig into my skin, his short nails sharp. "But why," he asks, his tone dropping. "Don't you want to see this Society slut squirm?"

Fire churns in my stomach, and I jam my foot down on his. Caught off guard, his grip loosens, and I ram my elbow into his stomach and stumble forward. Once I gather my balance, I whirl round to face him.

I connect my fist with his stomach, sending him stumbling back. I shove him to the ground.

"I usually like alliteration but only when it makes sense. I'm the Preeminence's fiancée. You grew up in the Society; I don't need to explain to you what a big word Preeminence is." I step down on his stomach. "And you? You're the man who tried to murder my fiancé." I press down harder. "You seem to be of the disillusionment that I need your help, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm standing in the room of what you can offer. I don't care if you cooperate now."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bently holding Basile back.

"I don't know what you've heard about me, but I was raised a rebel, trained by them for most of my life. If you try to run off to the French, I will find you and repay you for what you tried to do to Jonas and did to Erik—tenfold." I dig my foot in. He wheezes.

"You don't scare me. I've dealt with worse." I remove my foot and walk away, joining the others. "How do we find this Amoris?" I ask them, forcing Andrew from my concern.

Bently lets go of Basile who hurries over to Andrew. "I suppose we wait for more murders to happen," the Digamma says with a grimace.

"Well that's dark." I shove my hands in my back pockets. Though I hear Andrew walking up behind me, I don't give him the satisfaction of turning.

"We could go back to the barn," Colton suggests.

I wince, seeing those bodies hanging over the rafters in my mind.

"I'm sure they've removed the bodies," Bently says. "Besides it's probably still crawling with Mid'haa's team."

"Any new murders will be as well," I say.

Erik nods. "Then the Amoris will have to come to us."

"And how do we make that happen?" Bently asks.

"How do you catch a fish, Bently?"

"A hook?"

Erik rolls his eyes. "Don't get ahead of yourself. You first must attract the fish."

Colton crosses his arms. "And what are we going to use as bait?"

"Exactly what the Amoris wants." Erik looks at me. The Raggioet. The Expired. This was what I was afraid of. Why I wanted to go home so badly.

"What does the Amoris want with her?" Andrew steps into our circle, Basile at his side.

"She's the Preeminence's fiancée, who wouldn't want her?"

"The DSGE are after us," I say. "Use me as bait, and we'll attract more than an Amoris."

Erik shakes his head. "We'll be careful. Bently, do you want to come into the city with Iris and me tomorrow?"

Bently looks confused. "Have you already worked out your plan?"

"I always have a plan ready to go."

Bently sighs. "If my other option is staying here with Colton, I'll come."

While Bently and Erik discuss their plans, Colton has Andrew turn on the TVs. They work on pulling up different news channels.

As I examine the weapons, Erik comes up beside me. "I almost didn't recognize you during your speech."

"Okay?"

"You looked and sounded like the Society."

I turn back to the weapons. "I am the Society now. I've been a part of it for a while."

"They're rubbing off on you though. They're transforming you."

I clench my teeth. When I lived with rebels, they transformed me. But they left me, and I ended up in the middle of the Society, engaged to its ruler with a second chance at life. How could I not be transformed in some way again?
"They're going to make you cruel and manipulative."

"Like they did to you?"

He takes a step back.

"I know you disapprove of my choices, but they were my choices. Not yours. You don't get to make me out to be a villain because I didn't let you manipulate me into choosing what you wanted me to."

I suddenly don't care to look at the weapons. I pass through the doorway and head up the stairs. Erik can judge me all he wants. I won't be around to listen to it.