Page 5 of Born for Lace

And beautiful.

“Maple?” The first stranger steps forward, blocking the other from view. “Are you in shock?” He dips to my level, so I look at him. He is painfully pretty for such a big man, with dark hair cut nearly to the scalp, high cheekbones and concerned blue eyes. “I’m Tomar,” he says. “Come with us, Maple. The boat is not far.”

Tomar…

Find Tomar.

I hear my voice, distant but true. “You found us here. How did you find me?”

“A miracle, I guess,” he says, but there is something in his tone that lies. “Come. Is the child well? Are you bleeding from the labour?”

I lift the mask to cover my face again, liking the perceived privacy as his questions weigh heavily on my heart.

Bleeding…

Yes, lots of bleeding.

Too much.

I shake my head instead of answering, shaking the image of my friend and the hazy recall of her last gasping words.

I focus on the immediate situation, on Tomar and the other man. Can I trust these Xin De men? Tomar has designer genetics, perhaps a few generations worth, judging by his luminous blue eyes. But he isn’t without humanity like so many Xin De appear to be at first glance.

The second stranger, though—the scary one… He definitely comes from a long line of engineered genes, evident in his black gaze, monstrous size, and the velvety appearance of his tanned skin.

“The baby is fine,” I force out, my voice annoyingly fragile. “In my jacket.”

“Okay.” Tomar offers a wary, tight smile. “Come. You’re safe now.” He gestures down the passage between tall encroaching buildings. Long vines like wiry fingers dangling from scaffolding and ledges overhead. “I can see you’re scared, but we need to move unless we want more paralysed Blues littering the streets of the Half-tower.”

“This is a mistake.” The scary one speaks, and I swallow. His voice is a bass tone so thunderous and powerful it seems capable of rattling bones.

Tomar frowns at him. “No, it’s not a mistake. Would you have the child found instead? Dammit, Lagos, you of all men know what that would mean for it, what they would put it through?—”

“We should kill it,” he grunts.

We should…Kill. It. Two words like icy bullets puncture my chest, leaving me breathless and trembling. “No,” I whisper.

No. Please, no.

“I can’t do that.” Tomar steps behind me and urges me forward without touching me. “Walk, Maple. Let’s get you to the boat.”

I amble ahead. As soon as we’re safe, I must find a place to be alone with my thoughts and just…breathe.I’m like a fish joining an unknown school, heading downstream, hoping there is a sanctuary at the end and not a hook.

They keep a close pace behind me, causing my spine to stiffen. I’ve got to pretend I’m Maple, at least for a while. She made this arrangement with them, one that surely involves an exchange of some kind…Oh, I hope it’s stamps or La Mu or Opi; I can do that.

I have to go with them.

Within a second, I’ve considered my only other option; I return home and secure the flat. Wait out the unrest, wait until the tower is under control—I will be given to another Ward to complete my Meaningful Purpose. The baby will be taken. I don’t know where they will take it or what they will do with it, but it is the property of The Trade. It… I meanhim. I should do that. I was raised in a Trade nursery; they are perfectly pleasant and safe.

That is the rational course.

Thatis what I should do.

Yet… I inhale hard. Maple’s words,‘They cannot find him,’spur me forward.‘Find Tomar.’

I halt at the end of the passage, at a howling wall, inches from stepping into a vortex of wind—a dusty, red barrier.

The infant in my cloak doesn’t have a mask on… The slightest wind could fill his lungs with sand like an hourglass. But before I can hesitate further, I am wrapped in a coat from behind and guided over the threshold.

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