Scarlet (The Lunar Chronicles, #2)

by Marissa Meyer

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Not the abandoned portscreen or the unmade cake. Scarlet had also found her grandmother’s ID chip.

Roland regained his balance, looking like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to smirk or snarl. “Better be careful, Scar, or you’re going to end up just like the old—” Table legs screeched against tile and then the fighter had one hand wrapped around Roland’s neck, lifting him clear off the floor. The tavern fell silent. The fighter, unconcerned, held Roland aloft like he was nothing more than a doll, ignoring Roland’s gagging. Scarlet gaped, the edge of the bar digging into her stomach. “I believe you owe her an apology,” the fighter said in his quiet, even tone.

The fighter’s pale eyes darted to Scarlet, and for a moment she sensed a connection between them. Here they were, both outcasts. Unwanted. Crazy.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said, his voice almost lost in the jumbled noise from the tavern. She splayed her fingers on the back of the ship, annoyed at how her nerves were humming, like they couldn’t decide if she should be afraid of him or flattered. “I’m better off than Roland,” she said. “His neck was already starting to bruise when I left.” His eyes flashed toward the kitchen door. “He deserved worse.”

“I’m sorry,” Thorne said. She spun toward him, eyes wild. “It seems that you’ve stumbled into the wrong jail cell. Do you need directions to get back to yours?”

He asked what she was in for and complimented the fine workmanship of her metal extremities, but she ignored him, making him briefly question if he’d been separated from the female population for so long that he could be losing his charm. But that seemed unlikely.

“Two counts of treason, if you must know. And resisting arrest, and unlawful use of bioelectricity. Oh, and illegal immigration, but honestly, I think that’s a little excessive.”

“The most direct route out of the city is north.” “Oh, my naive little convict. Don’t you think that’s what they’ll be expecting you to do?”

“So this ship of yours. It is the stolen one, right? From the American military?” “I don’t like to think of it as ‘stolen.’ They have no proof that I didn’t plan on giving it back.” “You’re kidding, right?” He shrugged. “You have no proof either.”

“Is it just me, or is this a big moment in our relationship?”

He wondered and wondered and knew he should have been more disturbed by each unanswered question. But he wasn’t. It was not her being cyborg that had curdled his stomach. Rather, his repugnance had started the moment his vision of her flickered as if she were a broken netscreen.

Kai neared his desk again, seeing that the fugitive’s profile had been transferred to the screen. His frown deepened. Perhaps not dangerous, but young and inarguably good-looking. His prison photo showed him flippantly winking at the camera. Kai hated him immediately.

Knowing it was wrong, he couldn’t help but wish that wherever Cinder had gone, they would never find her.

Thorne blinked at her, then down at the sewage he could barely make out in the darkness. “Don’t you have some tool in that fancy hand of yours that can get us across?” Cinder glared, light-headed from her body’s instinctively short breaths. “Oh, wow, how could I have forgotten about my grappling hook?”

With a nod, Thorne started down the street. “This way.” Five steps later he paused, pondered, turned around. “No, no, this way.” “We’re dead.” “No, I’ve got it now. It’s this way.” “Don’t you have an address?” “A captain always knows where his ship is. It’s like a psychic bond.” “If only we had a captain here.”

“Thorne, I can’t set the automatic lift. You’re going to have to take off manually.” He gaped at the controls. “Why is my ship talking back to me?” “It’s me, you idiot!” He cocked his ear toward the speaker. “Cinder?”

To some, a wild beast, a predator, a nuisance. To others, a shy animal who was too often misunderstood by humanity.

“Loyal Soldier to the Order of the Pack,” he said. “Member 962.” He released the skin and curled his shoulders, hunkering down in the chair. “The biggest mistake I have ever made.”

“How is that possible?” Huy busied his hands by buttoning his suit jacket. “It appears, Your Majesty, that Dr. Dmitri Erland glamoured the guard into allowing him access to the prisoner’s cell.”

Whatever he’d once felt for Cinder—or thought he’d felt for her—was over.

“We need a new auto-control system,” she said, opening a panel and running her finger along the labels. “Iko is an auto-control system. All androids are! Of course, she’s used to the functionality of a much smaller body, but … how different can it be?”

“Iko?” Cinder said, facing the computer. Were the speakers on? The sound and data input settings correct? She’d been able to communicate with Thorne just fine when they were in the warehouse, but … “Cinder?”

Brb sobbing i missed iko

“Oh, what’s to become of me? I’m hideous!” “Iko, it’s only tempor—” “Now, hold on just one minute there, little miss disembodied voice.” Thorne strode into the engine room and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you mean, ‘hideous’?” This time, the temperature spiked. “Who’s that? Who’s speaking?” “I am Captain Carswell Thorne, the owner of this fine ship, and I will not stand to have her insulted in my presence!” Cinder rolled her eyes.

“You’re … rather handsome, Captain Thorne.” Cinder groaned. “And you, my fine lady, are the most gorgeous ship in these skies, and don’t let anyone ever tell you different.” The temperature drifted upward, until Cinder dropped her arms with a sigh. “Iko, are you intentionally blushing?”

“Are you traveling alone?” She tilted her head toward him and smiled apologetically. “No. In fact, I should be getting back to him.” She emphasized him more than was necessary, but he didn’t flinch.

He didn’t respond. His scowl became fierce, almost angry. “You smell…” When he didn’t continue, an offended laugh erupted out of her. “I smell?” Wolf roughly shook his head, hair whipping across his creased brow. “Not like that. Who did you talk to out there?”

Wolf inclined his head. “Climb onto my back.” “I can jump myself.” “Scarlet.”

crisscrossing her legs. “There’s a woman who lives there, or at least, she used to live there. She used to be in their military. Her name is Michelle Benoit, and I think she might be connected to the missing princess.”

It would be easy to abuse a person when they never recognized it as abuse.

“I could win against six,” he said. “Any more than that and it could be a close call.” Scarlet smirked. “You’re not in danger of low self-esteem, at least.” “What do you mean?” “Nothing at all.” She kicked a stone from their path. “How about you and … a lion?” “A cat? Don’t insult me.”

“Wait.” Wolf paused, glanced at her. Scarlet’s brow was creased as she inched toward him. “Do that again.” He took half a step back, eyes glinting with sudden nerves. “Do what?” “Smile.”

Scarlet hesitated only a moment before reaching for him. He winced, but didn’t move as she cupped his chin and gently pulled open his lips with her thumb. He took in a hissing breath, before touching his tongue to the point of his right tooth.

“You’re going to kill him!” she shrieked. “Wolf! WOLF!” As a last burst of bubbles rose up from Ran’s mouth, Scarlet stepped back, let out a breath, and pulled the trigger again. Wolf hissed and fell onto his side. He clasped his hand over his left arm, where blood was already seeping into the cloth of his sleeve. But it wasn’t a deep wound. The bullet had barely grazed him. He blinked up at Scarlet. “Did you just shoot me?”

“She was part of the only diplomatic mission to be sent from Earth to Luna in the last fifty years. She was the pilot that brought the Earthen officials. The visit lasted almost two weeks, so she must have had some interaction with Lunars.…” He frowned. “She never told you any of this?” “No! No, she never told me any of this! When was this?” Wolf looked away, and she could see his hesitation. “Wolf. When was this?” He gulped. “Forty years ago,” he said, his tone going quiet again. “Nine months before your father was born.”

His body seemed to deflate beneath her. “I should have told you sooner.” “Yes, you should have.” She tilted her head, temple to temple. “But I still don’t despise you.” She swept a kiss against his cheek and felt his body lock up. His heartbeat thundered against her wrist as she clasped her hands together.

She heard his grunt—bordering on a roar—and felt herself being hauled up. She beat her feet against the train’s side, struggling for any traction, before she was heaved onto the roof. Wolf rolled her away from the edge, landing on top of her. His hands hastily brushed the curls from her face, gripped her shoulders, rubbed her bruised wrist, every ounce of his frenetic energy devoted to checking that she was there. That she was all right. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I lost focus, I slipped—I’m sorry. Scarlet. Are you all right?”

She reached for the bandage, but he caught her hand, gripping it almost too tight. Scarlet found herself pinned beneath his gaze, intense and terrified. He was still breathing hard. She was still shaking, couldn’t stop shaking. Her mind emptied of everything but the gusting wind and how fragile Wolf looked in that heartbeat, like one movement could break him open. “I’m all right,” she assured him again, wrapping her free arm around his back and pulling him toward her until she could curl up beneath the shelter of his body, burying her head against his neck. She felt his gulp, then his arms were around her, crushing her against his chest.

She’d wanted him to kiss her. She still did.

Finally, he leaned his head into her touch, gently nuzzling her fingers.

She hesitated. When he still didn’t move, Scarlet leaned forward and kissed him. Softly. Just once. Barely able to breathe around her hammering heart, Scarlet drew back enough for warm air to slip between them, and Wolf dissolved before her, a resigned sigh brushing against her mouth. Then he was pulling her toward him and bundling her up in his arms. Scarlet gasped as Wolf buried one hand into her mess of curls and kissed her back.

“But I’m a wanted fugitive, like Cinder,” Thorne continued. “They do realize I’m missing, don’t they?” “Maybe they’re grateful,” Cinder muttered.

Thorne kicked his feet onto the armrest of Cinder’s chair, nudging her elbow off it. “Now I understand why you’ve been so immune to my charms. I had no idea I was competing with an emperor. That’s a tough hand to beat, even for me.”

Cinder considered. “Are you suggesting that she could be the princess?” “That’s precisely what I’m suggesting.” The netscreen turned to a profile and picture of Scarlet Benoit. She was pretty, with pronounced curves and fiery red curls. Cinder squinted at the image. A teenage girl without a birth record. A ward of Michelle Benoit. How convenient.

But i thought cinder was?

“It’s a chance I have to take.” The train came to a steady stop and sank down onto the tracks. Wolf’s eyes saddened. “I know. You’ll do what you have to do.” Peeling her hands off his shoulders, he placed a sweet kiss against her wrist, where the blood pulsed beneath her skin. “And so will I.”

When his severity melted, hinting at something like regret, Scarlet set her jaw. “A Loyal Soldier to the Order of the Pack?” She saw the pain in his gulp. “No. Lunar Special Operative.” The room spun. Lunar. He was Lunar. He worked for them. He worked for the queen.

Ze’ev caught a trace of Scarlet’s scent on Ran as he brushed past, and his stomach squeezed. He urged his body to relax, burying the animal instinct to tear out his brother’s throat if he found out he’d laid one finger on her.

“What do you suppose it’s doing down here?” Cinder licked her lips. “I think it was hiding a princess.”

But before she could speak, he said, “Screen, show Princess Selene.” Cinder spun back around, pulse rushing, but it was not an eleven-year-old version of herself that greeted her. What she saw was hardly recognizable as human at all. Thorne stumbled back, clapping a hand to his mouth. “What the—” Cinder’s stomach heaved once before she shut her eyes, tempering the revulsion. She swallowed hard and dared to look at the screen again. It was the photo of a child. What was left of a child.

“What’s your name, love?” She chewed on her lower lip, eyeing Thorne with a mixture of distrust and mild hope. “Émilie,” she breathed, barely audible. “Émilie. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Fighting back the urge to gag, Cinder thumped her head against the door frame.

“What?” she yelled. “What do you want?” Wolf scrubbed the spit from his chin with his wrist. “I had to see you.” “Why? So you could gloat over what a fool you made me out to be? How easy it was to convince me that you—” A shudder ripped through her. “I can’t believe I let you touch me.” She squirmed, wiping her hands down her arms to dispel the memory. “Go away! Just leave me alone!”