Millennial Prince (Jaxon Prayer Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Millennial Prince

  Rachel West

  Copyright 2016 Rachel West

  Kindle Edition

  Kindle 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.. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  CHAPTER 1

  A glimmer.

  A face leaning over mine. Fingers hesitantly stroking my cheek. Pain. Darkness.

  “C’mon Evie. C’mon.”

  I tear my eyes open. A wave of silhouettes pass by. Dark. Light. Dark. Light. Shadows, reaching towards me, beckoning me down. A sound in the distance. Like a siren. But growing closer. Closer.

  “Stay with us Evie.”

  Evie. I recognize my name. I recognize the sound of Red’s voice. Red, who has always been there for me. Red, who carries me on his back as we charge through the forest that flickers by in a series of shadows and light. Wetness. My blood leaking from me. Staining the space between us.

  “Annie,” I whisper.

  “She’s alright. We all are.”

  “Annie,” I sigh softly.

  Light. Dark. Light.

  Dark.

  ***

  I always pictured death as a place of softness. Misty grays and sunlight filtered through clouds.

  I never imagined it to be beautiful. A dew covered forest. Vibrant trees, so green the leaves appear to be glowing with their own light. Painfully bright. Painfully loud.

  I blink slowly and come to my senses. Not death at all but life. A face pops into view, our noses nearly touching.

  “You’re awake,” Annie says.

  “Annie,” I choke on her name. “You made it. We made it.”

  Annie chews on her lip and nods slowly. Her eyes are wary as she glances at me. A look of fear. A warning. My heart races as I expect to see the glint of sunshine on metal. Of Praetors surrounding the clearing. But instead my eyes fall on Red and Jaxon standing near each other - arguing maybe, but neither looking too upset. Jaxon waves his hands over his head, his arms moving like giant brushstrokes across a canvas while Red watches him with a tight scowl.

  I try to call out to them but my throat is dry and all that comes out is a low whine. I muster up as much spit as I can and swallow hard. The moisture is teasing relief. Steeling myself, I try to sit up but the movement causes pain to shoot so sharply through my side that I cry out. Fire emanates from one spot, spreading and spreading until it takes over my entire body and I am certain I will be nothing but ash and bone.

  I close my eyes, whimpering. Footsteps run towards me; Red’s heavy tread and Jaxon’s lighter step. I open my eyes through sheer will power. I bite my tongue to stifle my cries but my body betrays me through trembling hands. “Hey,” I try to sound nonchalant. Sweat beads on my face and neck. I find Jaxon’s eyes and try to focus.

  “Hey yourself,” Red says. Jaxon remains silent but his face is pinched and shadows darken his eyes. Annie inches slowly away, like Jaxon is some wild animal poised to attack.

  “Looks like the plan worked,” I say. My words end in a coughing fit that sets my body on fire once more.

  “Drink this,” Red holds a bottle to my lips. Cool, sweet water trickles into my mouth. I move to take the bottle from him, embarrassed to be treated like a helpless invalid, but my right arm won’t move. There’s no pain. It just--doesn’t move.

  “What..?” I trail off confused.

  “Oh!” Red jumps into motion and begins fiddling with something by my wrist. “You were thrashing around and we couldn’t bandage your wound so we had to tie you down.” His words tumble out in a rush. “Then you kept trying to move in your sleep. So we just…left it.”

  “It’s fine,” I say not understanding why he’s so worked up about it. At least not until my wrists are untied and I lift them free from the blanket. A blush burns in my cheeks, hotter than the pain from before. I’m not wearing anything, at least not on top. A compression bandage is pressed tight against my ribs speckled red and brown with blood. I wince as I see where the bullet caught me, on the right side, just under my breast.

  “It was his idea,” Red points to Jaxon.

  Jaxon raises one eyebrow at me and a grin flits around his lips but there is no humor in his eyes. Only worry.

  “Am I..?” I choke down the words that I can’t finish.

  “You’ll be fine,” Red answers. He touches my forehead lightly with two fingers. “We just need to keep the wound from getting infected. The bullet went straight through.”

  “Straight through?” I sit up holding the blanket to cover my nudity and ignoring the pain in my body. If the bullet went straight through me...Jaxon? I examine him closely but he seems fine. His face is haggard with exhaustion and stress, but no pain.

  Jaxon grabs his shirt at the bottom and lifts it, revealing hints of hip and soft skin. A square bandage the size of my hand is taped over his ribs. Blood stains the gauze in the shape of a half-moon. “Grazed me,” he says with a shrug and drops his shirt back down.

  “So…We escaped?” I prompt them to tell me the rest of the story. I remember flashes of a wild dash across open land. Escaping into a forest. My arms thudding against Red’s chest as he carried me. Someone murmuring my name over and over again. Begging me to stay with them. Promising everything will be okay.

  “Yeah,” Red says. “We did.”

  I turn my head to the side, taking in the forest that surrounds us. The sun trickles down through the spreading branches, dappling the underbrush in bright greens that shine like diamonds. I close my eyes against the light and inhale deeply. I can almost taste the forest on my tongue.

  “Can I have my shirt back please?”

  Annie reaches over and my head and I hear rustling as she digs through a bag. “Here,” she whispers so softly her words are quickly lost to the wind. “I washed it for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Getting dressed is harder than it should be. The others all turn away as I drop the blanket. A cool wind dances across my chest, setting my skin awash in goosebumps. I prod gently at the bandage and wince as lances of pain radiate through my chest -- like someone’s scratching a rough stone over the wound as I dress. When I try to lift my arm into the sleeve my muscles riot. Pain shoots through me and I cry out as my arm drops limply to my side.

  My eyes water, not from the pain but from the humiliation of it. The weakness. Red begins to turn towards me. “I’m not done,” I shout. I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t let any of them see me like this. I stuff my left arm in through the sleeve of the shirt and pull it down, leaving the right side hanging. With my sleeve I wipe away any hint of wetness from my eyes. “Okay,” I say. “I’m finished. Now what?”

  “Now?” Jaxon replies. “Now we go home.”

  ***

  Fall is devoured by winter as we trek back to Haven. Days slowly become greyer and I wake to my breath puffing above my lips. It takes nearly three times as long to return to Haven as it did getting to the work-camp. In the beginning, I’m so weak that even an hour of walking leaves my muscles trembling and my vision striated. Each day passes in a blur that is quickly forgotten by the next. One foot in front of the other. Reminding myself over and over again that soon we will be home.

  My wound slowly heals but the pain never quite fades. I can always feel it, like the bullet is still buried deep in my flesh. A reminder of what the Praetors’ are. Of what the Millennials have taken from me.

  We come upon Haven late at night and my
breath catches in panic. The walls extend so far in either direction they disappear into the horizon. Lights of every imaginable color brighten the city from within, looking almost festive, but I know the darkness that is hidden underneath. I freeze as a moment of too-much overwhelms me; bending nearly in two and I struggle to breathe. Annie approaches from behind and entwines her fingers in mine, offering comfort with the slightest squeeze of her hand. I lift my eyes to hers. Taking in her long lashes, her delicate chin, eyes that are aged far beyond what they should be. I squeeze back and smile reassuringly. She’s my sister --My little sister. I should be the one to comfort her, not the other way around.

  We return through the sewers and it feels wrong to be skulking back into the city that I had so recently escaped. I expect sirens, guards, Praetors when we crawl from the sewers and into the city. But there is nothing. The city carried on while we were away. Life went on.

  “C’mon Evie,” Red wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me away “We need to get you more bandaging. Do you have any at your house?”

  I think back to when I first met Jaxon, to the gauze that was all used up wrapping the wounds inflicted by his father. I remember my first glimpse of him. The fear that came with seeing his tattoo and too perfect appearance. Now when I look at him I see the hint of fear in his eye. The uncertainty. Where did the confidence go? The arrogance. And when did the glimpse of tattoos curling around his jaw become a thing of comfort?

  I shake my head. “No,” I tell Red. “I’m all out.” And for some reason the words come out sounding shamed, like it’s my fault I’ve run out of bandages, like I’ve done something wrong. I hate this too. This weakness that has overcome me. This weakness that I haven’t been able to shake since the work-prison. Where everything was supposed to be made right but somehow it all came out wrong.

  Red shoots a glare at Jaxon like he somehow knows what happened to all the wrappings although I’ve never told him of the marks that deface Jaxon’s back. Wounds of the father. The Great Uniter. “I’ll get some. I have some at my place. I’ll meet you at your apartment in an hour.”

  A ghost of fear brushes across my skin. We can’t split up, not now. Not after everything we have been through. It feels wrong. But I bite my tongue and nod, because I know that Red is only looking out for me, and the crusting bandage over my wound is starting to stink. “Be quick,” I plead.

  “Always,” Red says, then disappears down a small side street. I’m left alone with Jaxon and Annie, each standing on opposite sides of me. I nod to them and bring my fingers to my lips, urging silence. Curfew has long since passed and I can’t imagine what would happen to us now if caught. A Millennial, a fugitive and the stupid, stupid girl who orchestrated it all.

  I lead Annie and Jaxon to my apartment, my feet more knowledgeable of the path than my mind. I pause across the street from my building, the familiar sight causing an ache in my heart. We made it. Home. And for the first time, I have my family here with me.

  “Where are we?” Annie asks.

  I grab Annie’s hand, tugging her lightly forward, and for the first time things feel suddenly right. A thrill runs through me as I picture Annie’s reaction to her new home. A place where we can share meals over my little table. Where we can read books late into the night and remember the happy times with our mother. “Let me show you,” I say.

  I dart across the street with Annie in tow, while Jaxon trails further behind. I right the trash barrel that has tipped over in the small alley, then standing on it, jump up to pull the ladder down. I urge Annie up first. “Second floor,” I tell her. There’s a clatter and curse as Jaxon scrambles up behind me and I spare a glance to see him struggling with the broken rung. “Careful,” I whisper. Jaxon’s head bobs acknowledgement to my warning.

  I crawl up behind Annie and push the window open. With a light hop I land on the living room floor. “My home,” I say proudly. “Our home.”

  Annie spins in a slow circle and takes in my apartment. It reminds me of the first time Jaxon arrived here. The same thought must have crossed his mind, because I catch him watching me and we share a smile but there is a flicker of sorrow in his eyes. I take a step towards him without realizing, but Annie interrupts before I can say a word.

  “Home?” Annie says with a whisper of regret. “No, this isn’t home.”

  CHAPTER 2

  I turn to face Annie. Concerned by the pain in her voice. Sorrow wells in her eyes and overflows. She scrunches up her face and swipes at the tears like a cat batting its toy.

  “What do you mean this isn’t home?” I say. “I mean -- It’s not where we grew up. But this is home now. You’ll see. You just need some time to get used to it.” I stumble over my words, feeling like an idiot but all I want is to make her see. Maybe it’s not home yet. But it can be. It will be.

  “No,” Annie says stubbornly. “This isn’t home and I’ll never get used to it.”

  I reach out to her but she turns without seeing the gesture. I drop my arms, knowing that all I need to give her is time. But I can’t stop the hurt I feel because this isn’t how it was supposed to be. This isn’t how she was supposed to react. A thousand times I’d pictured the smile on her face when I brought her home. A thousand times I’d played out every look, every smile, every gesture. But now…? I don’t know how to respond to her. I don’t know how to coax out the reaction I’ve dreamed of.

  She wanders around, poking her head first into my bathroom, then my kitchen cupboards. Her expression stays neutral as she tiptoes through the rooms but I can’t help but wonder what judgments are crossing through her mind. When Jaxon came into my apartment the first time and mocked my saggy couch and dirty walls - that was different. That was coming from someone who grew up with a bathroom larger than my living room. With maids and butlers and security to take care of every need. But Annie? She’s my sister. She spent her entire childhood in an apartment no better than this one.

  I look helplessly to Jaxon. I have no idea what to say to this stranger who is supposed to be my sister. No idea how to deal with her sulking frown and tear-stained eyes. I try to convince myself that I understand – she’s been imprisoned for nearly half her life. She probably dreamed of nothing more than to come home and have her life resume exactly where it left off. But that doesn’t happen. Life moves on, whether you’re there to see it or not. I try to force the thought into my heart, to understand and accept.

  Jaxon doesn’t see my desperate glance. He’s draped himself across one of the chairs at the kitchen table with his hands stretched out in front of him, staring down like he doesn’t recognize them. I look at them both, Jaxon and Annie, both of them so closed off to me. So out of reach. And everything feels wrong and I’ve no idea how to put it right.

  “Hi,” I drop down next to Jaxon after deciding to give Annie the space she needs. He startles like he’d forgotten I was in the room with him. Like he’d forgotten I existed.

  “Hey.”

  Awkwardness rests between us and I listen to Annie prowl around my apartment. When she shuts herself in the bathroom I break the endless silence between Jaxon and I. “Is everything okay?”

  “I am fine. Are you?” he asks with a knowing look.

  “Jaxon…” It’s not only today. Ever since we rescued Annie, ever since I came to after my injury, Jaxon has kept his distance. Like he’s dropping a wall down between us. The whole journey back he barely spoke a word to me and I didn’t think anything of it. At first all I could think of was making it through the day, of pushing through the pain and making it home. Then I had Annie to worry about. Annie who was like a ghost, barely eating, barely sleeping, barely living.

  “Don’t lie to me.” I say but he doesn’t respond. He just looks at me with one finger tapping steadily against the table. When I am nearly ready to give up, he speaks.

  “There’s no room for me here,” he whispers then draws his lips into a tight line like he regrets allowing such foolish words to escape.

  “What are
you talking about?”

  He waves his hand towards the bathroom door Annie has disappeared behind. “Her. Your sister. The way she looks at me… She is terrified of me. She hates me.”

  “No she doesn’t,” I say, knowing the lie for what it is. “She just needs to get to know you. Like I did.”

  Jaxon leans casually back, balancing the kitchen chair on two legs. “I understand,” he says simply. “I understand that she must be your priority.” And his voice is flat and empty in a way that sounds like goodbye. Like there is nothing between us anymore. Like he’s choked off all emotion and all that’s left is fact.

  “That’s stupid,” I answer, frustrated and not knowing what else there is to say.

  “Perhaps it is time I left,” he shrugs and stares pointedly at the ceiling, unable to meet my eyes. “You have what you wanted. You don’t owe me anything more. We had a deal.”

  “No!” I jump up, slamming my hands against the table. “No,” I repeat lamely and drop back into my seat. “You can’t leave. I need you.” And the truth of the words makes my heart falter and for a moment I think I will be sick. But I can’t let him leave. I can’t. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Of course,” Jaxon agrees but I can see he doesn’t believe it. That he doesn’t believe me.

  I open my mouth to say more, to try to find the right words that will convince him there’s truth in what I say, but he flutters his hand at me and cocks his head to one side like he’s listening to something in the distance.

  “Jaxon?”

  “Shhh.”

  I shush and watch as he stands from his chair and tiptoes over to the front door. He presses one ear close to the wood. Unmoving, he turns his eyes on me and mouths “We have to go.”

  “What?” I whisper and creep over to him. He holds his hand up and shakes his head. Instead he meets me in the middle of the living room. “What’s going on?” Annie peeks her head out of the bathroom, pausing in the doorway, watching us.

  “There is someone in the hallway,” Jaxon says.