Wuthering Frights Part 15

"You have to stop talking to me like this," I said, diverting my eyes, not able to stomach the expression of pain in his gaze.

Quill laughed an ugly sound as he took a right on the road that led down to the docks. We were twenty minutes early and there was no sign of Baron or Horatio anywhere. Neither was there a sign of anyone from the ANC. As far as I could tell, Quill and I were the first to arrive.

"Things will never be the same between you and Vander," Quill said, seemingly enjoying holding my tattered relationship with Knight over my head. "You occupy opposite worlds now and the sooner you realize that, the better. You need to move on."

"Move on with you?" I snapped, turning to glare at him, even as I told myself to cool it but I couldn't seem to keep my anger in check. I was so overwhelmed with rage and fear about the unfolding events that I felt like a ticking time bomb.

"You cared for me once," he said simply.

I shook my head. "We are not having this conversation right now."

Quill said nothing more, but parked the Mercedes in the lot just beside the docks. Faced with the silence between us, I undid my seatbelt, opened the car door and stepped out into the dark night. I stared up at the stars, feeling the cold, salty air dance with my hair, shifting it this way and that. Watching the stars twinkle back at me, I suddenly yearned to be anywhere but here. For once I actually wished my fairy wings would sprout from my back and carry me away with the gentle winds.

"Where the f.u.c.k you been?" I heard Baron's voice and turned around, feeling dismay fill my gut as my heart dropped. He stood maybe six feet from me, leering at me as if I were naked. And I was far from naked-clad in my yoga pants, tennies and a long-sleeved black T-shirt. I'd strapped daggers to my upper arms and my Op 6 was snugly holstered around my waist and hidden beneath my zippered sweatshirt.

"We didn't see you," Quill said as he stepped out of the car and came up behind me. Horatio appeared out of the darkness, standing beside Baron. I checked my watch and noticed it was five minutes from show time.

As soon as I brought my eyes back up to face Baron, I heard what sounded like paper tearing, only much louder. It resounded in the air, somewhere off to my right. I felt like I was in slow motion as I turned and saw four men, dressed in grey and black uniforms, suddenly materializing from thin air. It was as if the sky had just spat them out. Clutched in their hands were firearms-some long-barreled, like rifles, and others small and short, like my Op 6. Obviously, they'd just come through a portal. But as to who they were, I had no clue. As soon as they got their bearings, they faced us and I recognized their Netherworld uniforms.

They began to fan out, forming an arc in front of what I a.s.sumed was the same portal they'd just come through.

"Who the h.e.l.l are you?" Baron spat out.

"Security," the man nearest me answered, with a frown aimed at Baron before settling his gaze on me.

"And who sent you?" Baron continued, visibly affronted that whoever it was obviously didn't trust us enough to handle things on our own. Yep, must have been good ol' Dad.

"The Head of the Netherworld," the same man responded. My heart sped up as I realized what this meant for the ANC. I'd already told Caressa it would just be Baron, Horatio, and Quill to contend with. I could only hope she'd decided to beef up the ANC numbers, like I'd suggested when we spoke, or this could have a very bad outcome.

"When's the delivery?" the uniformed guard that spoke to us earlier piped up.

I glanced at my watch and realized the Draoidheil was due to hit any second. So where the h.e.l.l was the ANC? I got the sinking feeling that maybe Caressa had failed to remember all the destination points or maybe she simply hadn't believed me?

A few seconds later, there was another sound of the air ripping apart and the night sky suddenly produced two women. They fell against the asphalt, although one quickly regained her senses and a.s.sisted the other, who seemed completely out of it, with a panic-stricken expression. They were dressed in outdated, empire-waisted gowns, the hems of which touched the ground. Their sleeves were also long, so long that they obscured their fingers. Their hair was gossamer and delicate-cascading down to their elbows and giving them an ethereal look. Not exactly like angels, but more like the girls from Little House on the Prairie. I had to a.s.sume they were Dryads.

Both Dryads stared at their surroundings as if trying to understand where they were, both becoming anxious when they saw the guards in uniform, along with Quill, Baron and then Horatio. When they spotted me, they instantly made a beeline in my direction, only to cower behind me. I imagined they weren't comfortable around men, seeing as how they'd come from a convent and all. I could hear soft whimpering and when I turned around, I realized the situation wasn't getting any better. The one with dark hair was leaning against the blond, her breathing shallow and coming in spurts. Both of them looked petrified, their eyes wide. They clung to one another, obviously in terror.

"Is she okay?" I asked the blond, then turned to face her friend whose eyes were clamped tightly shut, her face pale, and sweat beading on her forehead.

The blond looked at me and shook her head. When she opened her mouth, words didn't come out, but sounds did. Sounds that I can only compare to the voice of Charlie Brown's teacher. So the Dryads were unable to communicate? Fantastic.

I couldn't concentrate on the Dryads much longer because what sounded like thunder crashed into my ears and I turned to see another man come forth from nowhere, accompanied by the same sound of ripping paper. He wasn't dressed in the garb of the guards, but he was one of my father's, all the same. He stretched his arms forward and then his torso, half of him disappearing back into the portal. When he managed to pull himself out again, he was holding a large, plastic crate.

The crate was maybe three feet wide and two feet tall, with over one hundred vials of Draoidheil inside it. As soon as the crate made contact with the air on this side of the portal, one small vial flew up into the air, as if carried by invisible hands. Then the particles inside of it began swirling around, like the vortex of a tornado. The particles sped faster and faster until the cork seal flew off the top and the Draoidheil exploded into a ma.s.s of what looked like glitter. The sea breeze suddenly picked up the particles, scattering and lifting them even higher, and sprinkling them all around us.

Meanwhile, the man holding the crate pa.s.sed it off to Quill as he leaned into the portal for the next one. I watched Quill take the crate and head for the Mercedes. He loaded it into the trunk and then jogged back to us again. The man pulled out the second crate and handed it to me. It only weighed about fifteen pounds, so wasn't a big deal. I carried it to the Mercedes, and slid it in next to the other one. When I stood up, I watched as the man in charge of delivering the crates handed another off to Baron. As soon as Baron touched it, the crate suddenly exploded in a ma.s.s of gla.s.s and Draoidheil. With a throaty scream, Baron dropped the crate, destroying the remaining vials. Before any of us could respond, the crate suddenly ignited in an array of orange and yellow flames. Both the Dryads began shrieking as they ran from the commotion, cringing in the hollows beneath the trees on the hillside next to the docks.

Obviously, the ANC had arrived to run interference. I slammed the trunk of the Mercedes and pulled my Op 6 from around my waist, holding it in low ready. Of course, I had no intentions of harming anyone on the ANC side, but I wanted to make sure I was armed and able to protect myself if and when I needed to. Anyone on the ANC side would naturally a.s.sume I was working with the bad guys.

With a swift look around me, I jogged away from the Mercedes, and away from the spotlights of streetlamps until I reached the line of shadows offered by the hillside trees. As soon as I touched the gra.s.s, an enormous blast issued from the direction I'd just come. With a gasp, I craned my neck toward the Mercedes and watched it jump a few feet in the air, suddenly exploding into a fireball of shrapnel and flames. I threw my arms over my head and fell forward, my face hitting the gra.s.s as I sought cover. When I sat up, the blond Dryad was sobbing. The other one lay still on the gra.s.s.

I didn't have the opportunity to inquire after her condition because chaos immediately enveloped us. The Regulators from the ANC must have made their move when the Mercedes exploded because they were now in hand-to-hand combat with Melchior's men. The cacophony of screaming, fists pounding flesh and gunfire filled my ears. I scurried to the top of the hill, taking shelter behind the crest of it. With my Op 6 in my hands, I searched for any sign of Quill, to make sure he was okay. I didn't know what I'd do if he wasn't. Could I shoot one of my own people if it meant saving Quill's life? I knew the answer to that was yes, especially given the fact that I didn't recognize anyone on the ANC side. But I wouldn't shoot to kill. I would shoot to debilitate only because I couldn't allow Quill to die. Not on my watch.

My plan was to retreat back into the shadows offered by the trees on the hilltop. Once I could hightail it across the street, I would to take cover in the lushness of overgrown bushes and pepper trees alongside the road. With the help of some of my fairy dust, I could shrink myself down to a mere sprite. Then I'd hide out in the branches of the pepper trees and wait until everyone cleared the scene. My life as a renegade had already begun because I obviously wasn't working for my father now. But it wasn't like I could just pick up the pieces and return to my previous life.

From my perspective, the ANC outnumbered Melchior's men and were increasingly gaining the advantage. Horatio and two of the guards had been apprehended, and all three were cuffed and under the surveillance of two ANC men. I could also make out the bodies of two other guards on the ground, obviously dead. As I continued to watch, another crate of Draoidheil, which was sitting beside one of the deceased guards, suddenly erupted in flames when what looked like a Molotov c.o.c.ktail made contact with it. The ANC had employed a witch or some other kind of creature that was capable of sophisticated magic, because blowing the Draoidheil to Kingdom Come was no easy feat.

When the smoke dissipated, I could make out Quill's figure, also in cuffs and sitting beside Horatio. He was searching for me, his eyes scanning the horizon. When his gaze met mine, I could see the shock in their amber depths. It felt like minutes ticked by, but it was really only seconds that we stared at one another. And in his expression, it was obvious he knew that I'd ratted everyone out. Instead of throwing daggers and tightly fierce lips, he smiled at me. It was a proud smile -although I didn't understand why. Apparently, Quill was proud of what I'd done.

I didn't have the opportunity to further consider it as two ANC Regulators suddenly appeared at the base of the hill, each lifting a Dryad in his arms. I ducked down so I wouldn't be seen and when I looked again, they'd already disappeared through a portal, on their way to the forest where the Dryads dwelled.

It was time for me to make my move. Reholstering my Op 6, I crawled down the embankment and once I knew I was out of sight, stood up and turned around. I was about to dart across the street and take shelter behind the scraggily bushes beside the road when I found myself face-to-face with an enraged Baron.

We glared at one another for maybe three seconds as I'm sure the weight of my actions registered with him. His eyes narrowed as he growled and came for me, running full bore and plowing into me. He knocked me off my feet but when I fell, I didn't feel the bite of asphalt beneath me. Instead, it felt like I'd merely landed on an air pillow. I glanced down, shocked to find myself on the asphalt. Feeling a buzzing around my wrist, I pulled my sleeve up to find Sam's Viking Bracelet vibrating. So it had managed to protect me from harm. I couldn't help my smile but it was short lived as Baron, apparently realizing I was wearing an enchanted bracelet, lurched for it and ripped it off my wrist in a split second. He threw it on the ground and stomped on it, the chain weave collapsing beneath his immense weight. The beautiful stone broke in half as did my hopes of escaping Baron. Realizing he now had the upper hand, he grasped me around the neck and lifted me into the air, my feet lashing out as I gripped his forearms, digging my nails into his skin as I struggled to breathe. He released me while I was still in the air and I fell onto my back, the breath completely expelled from my lungs. I hit the ground hard and had to blink back the stars from my vision.

"You little back-stabbing b.i.t.c.h!" he railed as he slammed his enormous fist into my face. I felt my head snap back in response and bit my cheek hard. Suddenly feeling dizzy, I tried to force my eyes open, already feeling the blood trailing from my mouth down to my neck. I shook my palm until a mound of fairy dust appeared, but before I could throw it at him, he slammed my wrist against the ground, and the magical dust disappeared between my fingers. I forced my bleary vision on Baron's face and caught his ugly smile immediately.

"Yer not gittin' away from me this time," he said, reaching for my sweatshirt, he ripped it off me and then went for my T-shirt, shredding it in two. The tattered pieces fell on either side of me, revealing the daggers strapped to my upper arms. Baron shook his head but the smile on his mouth hinted to his elation as he pulled the daggers from their makeshift straps. He flung one down the hillside and held the other one at the base of my neck, the sharp point slightly piercing my skin.

"I could end you right now," he breathed and I gulped as the point pressed harder, cutting into me.

I felt my chest began to rise and fall as my heart rate increased. I was in full panic mode, and worse, Baron knew it. He lowered the blade and placed it between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his eyes suddenly feasting on the cleavage offered by my push-up bra.

Reaching for my gun, Baron quickly grabbed my wrist, pinning it to the ground painfully. Then, realizing he needed to have at least one free hand to molest me, he replaced his hands with his knees, thrusting his lower body directly into my face. This new position appeared to amuse him because he chuckled heartily. Holding the dagger above my right eye, he suddenly tossed it aside. It landed nearby, within twenty feet, but I had little interest in it. Instead, my immediate concern was Baron, who reached down to unzip his fly. I thrashed against him, kicking out and trying to nail him with my legs, but I was unsuccessful.

Before I could think of another strategy, he pulled himself free of his pants. I slammed my eyes shut tightly, trying to avoid what I imagined would be a hideous and traumatizing sight. Then, realizing his intentions, I clamped my jaws shut, telling myself not to open my mouth for anything, not even air, knowing what it might mean if I did.

"Open your mouth and take it," Baron demanded, slapping me across the face when I refused. I bucked beneath him and felt tears starting in my eyes, leaking down each side of my face.

"You filthy son of a b.i.t.c.h!" It was Knight's voice. I opened my eyes and watched Knight ram his Op 7 at the back of Baron's head. I brought my eyes to Knight's as I wondered if he would shoot. Before I could comprehend what was happening, Knight squeezed the trigger. I shut my eyes as the sound of gunfire a.s.saulted my eardrums. Screaming out in shock, I opened my eyes, focusing on Baron's face as it came nearer to mine, complete with a b.l.o.o.d.y hole in the center of his forehead. His enormous body slumped on top of me, twitching in death. I tried to push him away from me, but t.i.tans are an enormously heavy race, and Baron was no exception. A second or so later, Knight rolled Baron off me and offered me his hand.

I took it, not even knowing what to say as I realized he'd just killed Baron in cold blood. It was against ANC protocol one hundred percent. But when I looked into Knight's eyes, they were glowing eerily. It was the same glow they revealed whenever another man was near me, whenever another man hungered after me s.e.xually. And then I understood. Knight realized I'd just come incredibly close to being raped and in his rage, he hadn't been able to stop himself from pulling the trigger.

"Knight," I started, as questions suddenly raced through my mind. What was he doing here? Had he been here all along?

I felt him yank me to my feet only to turn me around so my back was to him. Then he pushed me up against a nearby tree, and the bark scratched roughly against my cheek. He grabbed my arms, securing them behind my back as confusion clouded my mind.

"Dulcie O'Neil, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law."

"Knight," I repeated, completely unaware of what was happening. I was being arrested? For what? I was the one who'd ratted out the bad guys and in the process, stopped a potentially devastating situation from happening ...

"You have the right to speak with an attorney. If you can't afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand your rights as I have recited them to you?"

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded angrily when he pulled me away from the tree. I searched his face, looking directly into his eyes as I tried to understand.

His face was livid and his lips were sealed tight. "Do you understand your rights as I have recited them to you?" he said again, his tone one of indifference and apathy.

Seventeen.

"How long have you been working for your father?" Knight demanded finally, after not speaking to me for at least ten minutes. He'd placed me into the pa.s.senger seat of a black Yukon Denali, my arms still cuffed behind my back so I had to lean forward slightly to obtain any semblance of comfort.

The only thing he'd admitted to me thus far was that I was being arrested for my involvement with the illegal potions trade; and specifically, for partic.i.p.ating in the aid and distribution of the Draoidheil. Apparently the ANC had been able to salvage one crate of the stuff which was being transported with us in the Denali. The other ANC officials had taken Quill, Horatio and the surviving guards to Hades only knew where. Knight hadn't admitted that much to me yet.

At the mention of Melchior, I felt my heart drop, even though it was pretty obvious that Knight already knew about the relationship between my father and me. Even so, I still couldn't help the shock that warred through me. "You know?" I asked in a hollow tone as I looked at him, and felt my stomach sour.

He refused to look at me, keeping his attention focused on the road as he left the loading docks and headed for the freeway. "Of course," he spat back. "I've always known." He said it like I was stupid for even asking, like he was so accomplished as an ANC detective, by all rights, he would know.

"I ... Why didn't you ever mention it? If you knew he was my father, why didn't you ever tell me?"

He looked at me then and laughed, but there was no levity in the sound. He shook his head like I just didn't get it, like the joke was on me. "I never mentioned it because you obviously already knew and, furthermore, it would have given too much away."

I closed my eyes, wondering if this whole thing was a dream. Maybe it was merely a fabrication from my muddled mind, arising from the fact that Baron had hit me too hard. But even after blinking several times, when I opened my eyes, I found that Knight was still driving and I was still sitting beside him. I glanced down at myself, realizing I was dressed in only my bra and yoga pants. With my hands firmly locked behind my back, my arms went numb, and when I tried to move them, they stung like pins and needles. "I don't understand," I said simply, wishing the headache behind my eyes would fade away. "You would have given too much of what away?"

Knight expelled a breath and didn't appear to be in the mood for a lengthy explanation. "How long have you been working for Melchior, Dulcie?" he demanded again.

I shook my head and tried to focus on the question, tried to remember, tried to look past the pain that was throbbing between my eyes. "I don't know, maybe two weeks."

"You're lying." Knight snapped, glaring at me before returning his attention to the road, apparently remembering he was behind the wheel. "Don't play this innocent f.u.c.king game with me, Dulcie. I don't have the patience for it."

And that was when I lost it. I craned my neck in his direction and felt my eyebrows furrowing because I honestly didn't understand what was going on and my headache was only making my temper that much shorter. "I have no idea what you're talking about! So why don't you drop your s.h.i.tty att.i.tude and tell me what the h.e.l.l is going on?!"

Knight failed to reply, but seemed to focus entirely on driving, refusing to look at me. I could see his ears tinged red with anger. When he finally spoke, his voice was hollow and pained. "Your father and I always had our differences," he started and his hands tightened around the steering wheel, making his knuckles go white. "I was at the top of my game in the ANC, getting accolades and rewards left and right. Of course, Melchior not only respected my position, but realized he could use me to his advantage. He approached me about becoming his top potions smuggler and, in the process, had to put everything on the table. He had to show his hand. When I refused, he banished me to Earth, telling me I would never be allowed to return to the Netherworld. I was basically exiled to live the rest of my life beneath the radar." He looked at me and frowned as I thought about the fact that Knight's story was very similar to Quillan's. It was like my father had searched out the best Regulators in the ANC to call his own.

"Obviously he didn't know me very well," Knight continued. Then he took a deep breath. "He would have had me killed, but by that time, I'd gained so much notoriety in the ANC, knocking me off would have created too much suspicion. Instead, he banished me to Earth, and permitted me to work in any ANC location of my choosing. What he wasn't aware of, though, was that I kept a close eye on him, even from afar. When he p.r.o.nounced my sentence, I promised myself, he would be taken down, that I would personally see to it ..."

I felt my jaw drop as something dawned on me. "You're part of The Resistance?" I asked as my mouth formed a perfect "O."

He said nothing, merely inhaled deeply. But he didn't have to say anything because his lack of a response was answer enough. He was definitely part of The Resistance and probably always had been. I studied him, as the pieces of the puzzle t.i.tled, "Why Melchior O'Neil wanted Knightley Vander dead" were quickly falling into place. "Melchior wanted to wipe you out in order to end The Resistance," I said, watching as he exited the freeway. We were on Coconut Street, which led to Splendor's city center. I thought we were en route to the ANC, where I'd be kept in custody for Hades only knew how long. Obviously I didn't imagine Knight would return me to the Netherworld for sentencing because, in his mind, it wasn't as though I'd actually be sentenced since Melchior was my father. The truth of the matter was that I'd probably be dealt with in the harshest possible way given my involvement in destroying my father's immediate chances at tyranny.

Knight glanced at me and shrugged. "Most recently, yes, but at the time he exiled me, he wasn't aware of my ties to The Resistance. However, I was more than aware of his ties to the illegal potions industry and after doing a little recon of my own, I learned he had a daughter." Then he frowned at me.

"You came to Splendor because of me?" I asked, feeling nauseous at the realization that Knight a.s.sumed I'd been serving my father during the entire course of his and my a.s.sociation.

"Yes," he snarled back at me. "I knew there was a mole in the ANC ranks in Splendor, and at the time, I figured it was you. So given my hatred of your father and my determination to see him dethroned, I transferred to Splendor so I could beat you at your own game."

"But you knew the mole was Quill," I said, wishing I could press my fingers to my temples, to try to a.s.suage the pain between my eyes. I had to wonder if I had a small concussion. "You were there when I let Quill go."

He glanced at me and shook his head. "I wasn't with you, I took you on your word that you let him go. Quillan might never have been there, for all I know." Then he laughed cynically. "At the time, I might have bought into your little charade where Quill was concerned, but now I know better. Now I know the truth."

"The truth?" I repeated, starting to become p.i.s.sed off with this whole situation.

"Quill was the fall guy for you. Your father knew it was wiser to ensure your place in the ANC than Quillan's so he told Quillan to take the fall for you, with the knowledge that having you in the ANC would be a far greater advantage to him." He looked over at me then, taking me in from face to b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Your father is no idiot. He realized you were the best weapon in his a.r.s.enal. He knew you were every f.u.c.king man's dream."

I shook my head, feeling panic stirring within me. Looking at things from Knight's perspective, I could understand how he'd come to this conclusion, even though he was completely wrong. But the evidence seemed to support his theory. "That isn't true, Knight. None of that is true. I met my father for the first time two weeks ago, I swear it."

"I'm not finished," he interrupted in an irate tone. "So I figured you got word back to Melchior about Knightley Vander and how he was now working in Splendor; and I'm sure Melchior had a field day with that one." He slammed his fist into the steering wheel, making the horn blare as I jumped a few inches out of my seat. Knight came to a stop sign and inhaled deeply before looking over at me. "So, Dulcie, you tell me, what did your father tell you to do? Did he ask you to target me? To make me want you? Did he tell you to make me fall in love with you? To wrap me around your finger?"

Glaring at him, I was no longer okay with having to defend myself against false accusations. "So you think you have this whole thing figured out, don't you?" I asked icily. "And it all fits into a tiny, neat little box called Dulcie's guilty, right? None of it's true-it's just a load of bulls.h.i.t!"

"Disprove it then, Dulcie," he raged back at me. "Prove that it's false. Go on, I'm curious to hear you try and back pedal your way out of this."

But there wasn't anything that immediately came to mind on how I could disprove it. Instead, I opted for simply telling the truth. "I started working for my father two weeks ago because he forced me to do it."

"And how did he manage that?" Knight asked, his tone facetious.

"He held your life as ransom," I snapped at him. "I made the deal with him that I would be his eyes and ears in the ANC, as long as he agreed to leave you alone."

Knight shook his head and laughed acidly. "I don't believe that for one second, Dulcie," he said, facing me, his lips tight. "I fell for your bulls.h.i.t once, and told myself that everything I'd previously thought about you wasn't true, that you really had no idea who your father was, and you really were the girl for me." He shook his head and bashed his hand into the steering wheel again. "You were pretty good, Dulcie, I'll give you that. You even had my body convinced that you were the one."

He was referring to the fact that as a Loki, only his body could choose his mate, a woman strong enough to handle his powerful seed, and the one woman to whom he would be dedicated for life. When his eyes first glowed in my presence, it was his body's announcement that I was his woman.

"Knight, that is the truth! I didn't know who my fa ..."

"I don't want to hear it!" he railed at me.

I swallowed hard, suddenly intimidated by the anger and pain in his eyes. But there was also a fire in me that refused to be extinguished, a fire that wouldn't stop burning until Knight learned the truth and realized I was innocent of all of his accusations. "And what about everything we said to each other while we were in High Prison?" I demanded. "What about the fact that I came back to the Netherworld to save your a.s.s? And how do you explain my being imprisoned with you and nearly raped by that Cyclops thug? How the h.e.l.l have you talked yourself out of the legitimacy of all that?"

He shook his head. "You being imprisoned was just part of the overall act, something that was just a facade but meant for me to drop my defenses and trust you wholeheartedly. Looking back, to your credit, it worked ... but now I can see right through it ... and you."

"And that bit about Cyclops?" I persisted, my lips tight.

"Bad luck. Wrong place at the wrong time. Your father should have known better than to lump you, a fairy, in with the likes of the goblin and a Cyclops. Just goes to show how much he truly loves you."

I couldn't argue with him about that because he was correct-my father didn't care about me. Not a d.a.m.n.

"Besides," he continued, "Caressa said she never took you to the portal. Remember how I caught you in that lie?" Without allowing me to respond, he continued, "Of course, she never took you to the portal because your father released you from High Prison, something which in and of itself was highly problematic, considering you skipped any trial and simply got released. It's good to have a big daddy up high in the ranks, isn't it?"

"I never knew why I was released," I admitted. "But it's true that Caressa never took me to the portal. Instead, I told her what my plan was where you were concerned and she allowed me to escape." Knight shot me a disingenuous glance, but I wasn't about to let him deny me my explanation. "Then I went to my father's office and I demanded that he release you. And of course, once he realized he had me right where he wanted me, I ended up in this mess."

Knight shook his head. "Do you really expect me to believe that trite s.h.i.t? f.u.c.k, Dulcie, I'm not going to buy into your soap opera."

"Yes, I expect you to believe it because it's true!" I screamed at him, trying to find some way that I could prove I wasn't lying. But as much as I racked my brain, I couldn't think of anything that would clear me of this blame. Nothing tangible, anyway. I glanced outside my window, realizing that Knight had driven straight through Splendor and was now merging onto the freeway, headed toward Haven. As I stared out at the darkness, something occurred to me. "Knight, if my father wanted you dead so badly, and I was his liaison, why would I have fought so hard to spare your life? If he really wanted you dead, he had you exactly where he wanted you when you were in the Netherworld. You admitted as much yourself."

Knight inhaled deeply and frowned at me, clearly not convinced with this fact. "Because he realized my connections to The Resistance, something you've already demonstrated you also knew about. So he informed you to sink your claws into me even deeper than you already had, in order to find out all you could about The Resistance so Melchior could shut it down."

I realized I'd made a big mistake in admitting I knew about The Resistance. I ransacked my mind, trying to think of something else that didn't ring true, of something else that could help me in my quest to prove my innocence. "If nothing I've said is true, why did you just catch Baron trying to kill me?" I asked. I knew I was reaching, but I had to go for it anyway. "If I was really working for my father, do you think Baron would have come after me, calling me a back-stabbing b.i.t.c.h?"

Knight frowned. "I didn't hear him call you anything and furthermore, he wasn't trying to kill you," he said. Then he shook his head like I was a great big idiot. "And I think it's pretty obvious what he was after, just seizing a good opportunity to go for it."

"Okay, then what of Trey?" I demanded, playing every card I could.

"What of Trey?" Knight repeated.