Chapter 8: Night

KADE

Kaden Sario strolled along the wide hallway, ignoring all the familiar paintings on the wall. He'd wandered these halls since he was a kid and knew every detail of every painting. He was sick of it, sick of this house, this land. He wanted to be in the city. Kade's father spent most of his time in the dilapidated city. It was a place off limits to anyone except the figureheads of the four households. Kade didn't know what was in the city or why it was so important. From the outside, it was an ancient ruin of a time past, but something had to give. Fortunates were notoriously vapid creatures of comfort. No one ever spoke of the city, but there was something inside its boundaries that kept generations of Fortunates going back for more. Whatever it was, it had to be enough to keep the boredom at bay.

In the new world, there wasn't much work for Fortunates. The Unfortunates took care of everything. They did the farming, ran the shops, and waited hand and foot on the Fortunates. They did the repairs, cooked the food, and cleaned the houses. Every Unfortunate was born with a number, and every Unfortunate had a place. It was located and dealt with if one wasn't where it was meant to be. Tracking them was a mammoth job, so that was outsourced to the moderators.

Kade's shoes scuffed against rough, concrete flooring, and the noise brought him back to reality. He glanced around the dimly lit cubbyhole, and a sleepy sigh blew over him. Confused, he took a step back, and mortification struck. His unfocused state had brought him to the Unfortunates' quarters. He knew he had to turn around and leave, but something forced him forward. A tiny tether of fire tied tightly around his stomach tugged him to her, and he let it. Until his shins pressed against the cool, thin metal of her cot.

In the silence, the slow, relaxed pattern of her breathing triggered an autonomous sensory meridian response. The dulcet tingles pirouetted like tiny dancers across his scalp and descended his cervical spine, making him feel...pleasant.

And strange.

It was the first time he heard her breathe at a normal pace since her arrival. His fingertips burned with the urge to touch her, to trace the milky flesh between her breasts, but he stuffed his hands into his pockets instead. Earlier, in his room, she attempted to cover her breasts when he released her from her dress. Nine wouldn't like to be touched against her will; that was obvious. So, Kade didn't touch her, but she would learn to like it. If she was going to help him and his family, she'd endure being touched whenever and wherever a Fortunate saw fit.

Releasing a hand from his pocket, Kade reached for a thick lock of auburn hair that curled around her cheek and lifted it off her face. Her brows furrowed, and Kade's heart raced at the thought of being caught like this, with him gently hunched over her sleeping form, her hair between his fingers. It was wrong. He was on his last chance. His history meant there was no room for error when it came to Unfortunates. He could lose everything.

Scowling, Kade let the silky strands of her hair slip from his fingers. They fell against her thin pillow, and he turned away as seeds of contempt sprouted. His father handpicked Kade's Unfortunate. He wouldn't be surprised if Vincent was in on it too. He was sure that nine was a pawn in a plan to destroy him. He had to be careful.

Kade left Nine's cubbyhole and ran straight into another Unfortunate. Their bodies collided, his sizeable frame knocking the Unfortunate to the ground. He stood and peered down at the familiar woman as she scrambled to put the rolls of clean cloth back into the basket.

"Portia…" Kade murmured, crouching.

He glanced down the hall, making sure they were alone, then grabbed at the last roll of cloth. He held it out, and their eyes locked, black to gold. It was a silent apology to the mature-aged Unfortunate who'd been with their family since Kade was a baby. She was the only reason the household functioned; although he could never admit it, he had a soft spot for her.

"Thank you," she whispered, holding out the basket. Kade dropped the cloth inside and stood up.

"What are you doing down here?"

Unease burned in his blood, and he swiped at his face. "I got lost."

"Lost?" She peered around him and into Nine's cubbyhole. Anxiety grew, but he knew he could trust Portia not to tell a soul about his visit to the Unfortunate quarters. "You should get some rest."

He surveyed the tired, aged lines carved into her heart-shaped face. "So should you."

"Just finishing up on the cleaning."

Her lips quirked as she placed the woven basket on her hip. "Goodnight, Kade."

"Goodnight."

Portia strolled further into the Unfortunate quarters, and Kade ambled in the other direction through the silent house. He ran his hand over his face and thought about his large bed as he climbed the wide staircase to the second floor. He hated the night. It was too quiet to hide from the thoughts and memories that plagued him. Night demanded accountability for the day's transgressions and took its payment in grief and vulnerability. Night stole sleep and amplified the anxious pressure in his chest, leaving him sweating more in the cool, blue moonlight than in the heat of a midday sun. But Kade understood. He understood he needed to be hard in order to survive, that the weak fall, the strong prosper, and that was the way the new world went.

Nightmares be damned.