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Book online «The Gender War (The Gender Game #4) by Bella Forrest (read novel full TXT) 📗». Author Bella Forrest



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supposed to be far over the border by now, heading toward The Green and the Liberator base.

Tim nodded, his hands tensed at his sides. “Scared. Wants you. B…blood.”

My hand fumbled with the package, letting it fall to the counter as his last word registered, my stomach clenching with dread. “Let’s go,” I said shortly, and followed him.

Both of us broke into a run halfway across the house, and within a few minutes we were outside in the front yard, heading toward the massive truck Thomas had left parked in the driveway. As I rounded the corner, I became aware of panicked breathing.

“Please,” Amber begged, her voice hollow, dry and cracked. “I need Violet.”

“I’m here,” I said, pushing past Jay and grabbing Amber’s shoulders. She sagged in my hands, sinking down on the bumper of the truck, as if her legs wouldn’t hold her upright anymore. Dried blood splattered her plain t-shirt and smeared her jeans, and I felt it under my hands as I held her shoulders.

“Violet, we were grabbed,” she said, staring straight ahead, her lovely violet eyes wide and reddened, tear tracks streaking her cheeks. “Interrogated. Quinn… they…” Her voice broke, and her shoulders jerked under my hands as she sobbed.

I looked at Jay and Tim, wondering if they had any context for this at all.

“We don’t know,” Jay whispered quietly. “She used her code to get in, and grabbed us to get you. She said she needed to talk to you specifically.”

I turned back to Amber, trying to be gentle. “Amber, I need you to tell me what happened. As clearly as you can. Where’s Quinn? How did you get hurt?” The blood looked like it was at least a few hours old, but if she was hurt, we had to get her medical attention right away.

“It isn’t mine,” Amber breathed. “It’s Quinn’s. Oh God, Violet… they cut him… cut into him.”

“Cut him?” Agonizing images rushed into my mind, along with a blinding fear. “Who did? Is he… is he dead?”

Amber gave me a pained look and took in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know,” she said. “He was unconscious when they let me go. I don’t know if he’s still alive now.”

I pulled her up to her feet, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Why did they let you go?” I asked, one huge fear standing out in my mind. “Are they following you?”

Amber’s face fell, and she shook her head, the blood draining from her face. “They don’t have to. I told them where we were. Once they… when they started to hurt him. I told them everything. They know where you are.”

I breathed in sharply at her answer, my eyes jumping from her face to scan the wall, the gate, the sky, my ears straining for heloship motors.

“They aren’t coming—not yet, anyway,” Amber said softly, and I turned, giving her my full attention once again.

“Why… why not? Amber, who was it? Why did they let you go?”

The next word out of her mouth sounded like it came straight from a nightmare. My right hand throbbed as if in memory, and I had to fight down a wave of panic.

“T…Tabitha,” Amber sniffed, her voice going low with anguish. She met my gaze, her face reflecting her shame. “She wanted me to deliver a message,” she whispered.

I stared at her as she reached into the pocket of her pants, withdrawing a folded piece of paper, the edges stained with blood. Wordlessly, I accepted it, my left hand trembling slightly. As I unfolded it, I realized it wasn’t just letter paper. It was a photograph. I stared at the picture, my heart seizing as I looked at the family portrait of my aunt, my uncle, Cad, and presumably his wife and two children—a boy and a girl. I met Amber’s gaze, my hand shaking.

“What… what does she want?”

“You,” Amber rasped, “the egg, and… King Maxen.”

I shook my head, unable to comprehend what was happening. I had been prepared for a war, for wardens arriving at our doorstep, for tactical procedures and troop placement. I hadn’t been prepared for this kind of blow. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the churning of my stomach and the accelerated beating of my heart. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. Alejandro was supposed to have warned them. They should have run, dammit.

“Was Alejandro there? Did you see them? How were they?” I asked, the questions pouring out of me in rapid succession.

Amber’s lips parted at the intensity in my voice, and I realized I had taken a step toward her, my fury and panic washing over into her eyes. Tim and Jay both looked at me, alarm growing on their faces, and I took a step back, trying to maintain my calm.

“Sorry,” I breathed. “But… please, Amber. Just tell me what you can.”

Amber nodded and visibly pulled herself together, one ragged breath at a time. When she was ready, she straightened up and spoke, almost robotically.

“The place where we were supposed to cross the border was going to add an extra six hours to our travel time, which meant six hours of riding in enemy territory. Quinn knew there was a closer spot, and we decided to try crossing there instead. We knew it was a gamble, but we figured… with the motorcycle…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting away, filled with shadows. “They caught us. Took the tires of the bike out—I was knocked out… Quinn must’ve broken his arm. When I came to, we were in the palace. Tabitha was there. We… we were facing each other, and she just started… cutting Quinn. In front of me. He kept crying out, begging her to stop… and she kept asking me where you were and where the egg was…” She looked at me, her eyes filling with tears again. “I had to give her this location, Violet,” she pleaded.

“Amber,” I said, looking her into the eyes, “I get it. Completely. If it had been Viggo… or even Owen… I

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