The Breaking Light (Split City Book 1) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Heather Hansen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Skyscape, New York

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Skyscape are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503942684

  ISBN-10: 1503942686

  Cover design by Mike Heath | Magnus Creative

  For my mother, who has walked every step of this journey with me. I couldn’t have done it without your unfailing support and encouragement.

  And for my father, who taught me to dream big and then to work hard until it becomes a reality.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Arden ignored the knife pressed to the fragile skin of her neck. She could feel its bite and the wet slickness of blood pooling in the hollow of her throat. Whenever she shifted, the cool metal tightened with the promise of death. Yet she also felt hesitation from the boy holding it, and that more than anything made her curious enough to remain still.

  He faced her. His right hand grasped the knife, while his left gripped her hair. He exhaled in fast pants, gulps of air pitting his lungs. He acted like he knew how to use the knife, yet the stress lines grooved in his forehead made her question whether he’d ever taken a life. The boy was missing the hardness that came with life-altering decisions.

  She made these observations in a detached way, while unconsciously focusing on his lips. Not that she would ever admit that to her closest friends—the embarrassment would be too much. Yet his mouth enthralled her. How his lips moved slightly with each breath he took. How he tried to catch himself from showing indecision and when he did, his lips pressed shut, only to fall open a second later. Now they were molded into a frown, but they’d transfixed her when they’d been relaxed and achingly kissable.

  She could see his features well enough in the dreary light that filtered through the static cloud as it mixed with the glare of the city. It created a diffused glow that made the boy appear even more mysterious. And she liked that, the hint of delicious danger.

  Something shadowed the boy’s expression, his chocolate-brown eyes full of unanswered questions. She looked straight into them, wanting to understand why she found him so fascinating. He was certainly handsome. Long blond hair dipped over his forehead. His face still held a bit of youth, though hardened angles had taken prominence. He was striking in a way she might have feared if she were a different sort of girl.

  The boy swallowed.

  She watched his throat work, finding herself drawn to his sun-kissed skin, dusted brown from real sun, not from regulated time in a sun booth. She wanted to press her hand against it to see whether it felt as warm as it looked. Very few people could claim to have seen the sun, for there wasn’t direct sunlight to be had, unless you lived in the sky.

  She felt as if she were alone with him in this moment even though they stood at the edge of a busy street. Enclosed in a private cocoon of interest and curiosity, and a little bit of lust. Because who wouldn’t look at this boy and wonder who he was?

  Arden had waited until he moved to the edge of the street before she’d made her move. Beyond them, the city rattled with people, bustling as it always was. But she let the chaos fall away as she focused on him. It wasn’t difficult. He held her attention simply by being so different.

  “You tried to rob me,” the boy said. His voice was measured, yet confident. It sent warmth coiling through her.

  She had, in fact, been at that very task, when for some reason he’d felt his pocket being picked. She must be slipping. She hadn’t been after his money, though. It had started off as a mercy mission: to help a lone sky boy who was wandering the streets without protection. It was laughable. She’d meant to scare him enough that he’d take better care next time.

  Her duty meant she should have murdered him, to honor the blood feud between their families. He was lucky she didn’t care for taking lives. But that didn’t mean she could let it go if she were placed in a situation where she couldn’t ignore him. If she’d been with companions today, she would have been forced to kill him.

  Arden frowned, feeling a twinge of sadness. Taking his life seemed wasteful.

  Not wanting to tip him off and make the situation into something worse, she blanked her expression and softened her body to appear nonthreatening. His body was larger than hers by two spans. It was not often she felt tiny, as she was tall for a girl. Arden found she liked the illusion of being delicate far more than she should. The image of an innocent girl who conveyed a graceful feminine charm was wholly unrealistic to that of any girl she’d ever known.

  “I didn’t try to rob you,” she said while maintaining eye contact to cement the lie.

  His brow arched. “I imagined your hand in my pocket?”

  “Perhaps.”

  The boy made a face as though he’d eaten something sour.

  She wanted to laugh at his offended expression. It was adorable. Arden lowered her face to hide her eyes behind half-raised lids.

  His fingers subtly relaxed against her head, perhaps due to confusion, or maybe lapsed concentration. Either way, it meant that it would be easy enough to break his hold when she wanted to leave. But right now, she settled in to dig for information. He could know something useful. Though truthfully, she was having a lot of fun teasing him.

  As she spoke with him, she made mental notes of each of his features. Of anything that would set him apart and could be later referenced, especially the black tattoo on the left side of his neck just behind his ear. A design she knew without close inspection: a simple black sun, its center a perfect dark circle. Eight spokes surrounded the nucleus at equal intervals, the four points of the compass longer than the others. These spokes did not touch the center, leaving a rim of tanned flesh to break up the design.

  It was a label that said he was off-limits. That he was set apart from those not rich enough to flaunt the laws. People like her still broke them, but with consequences. The tattoo was a visible sign that the Solizen wore to warn others not to mess with them. Though often, especially to her gang, it did the opposite. What it did now was help to remind her that this boy was not for her and to focus her wandering thoughts.

  His
gaze dropped away from hers. His lip pulled up at one corner as his eyes narrowed. “You have a blackout band?”

  Even as she was caught up in studying him, apparently he had been doing the same. His attention now focused on the two-inch-wide dull black metal band circling her left wrist. He looked intrigued, his lips now moving into a full smile that flashed straight, even teeth.

  Arden’s eyes widened with surprise as she flicked the cuff of her cloak over the item in question. The band was designed to cover the implanted data sensor the govies said they used for identification and banking. In reality, they used it to track every citizen’s movement, logging the collected information into a database. Breaking the signal was necessary to remain undetected and, needless to say, completely illegal.

  She considered how to deny what he had obviously seen, or even whether she should bother doing so. Her response was cut off when he twisted his own wrist, exposing the edge of a matching band.

  Shock hit her a second time. Why would he make a point of showing her his band when he could have easily kept it hidden? Exposing vulnerable secrets was not a negotiation tactic she was familiar with. This wasn’t typical Solizen behavior. Perhaps he was more devious than she’d given him credit for.

  This was yet another reason she allowed herself to remain pressed against the wall. Puzzles were difficult for her to walk away from. Unfortunately, it had gotten rather late, and she had another appointment, one she couldn’t miss. She swallowed back irrational disappointment that they’d have to part ways.

  “Where’s your nursemaid?” she taunted, knowing that the question would cause him to react.

  The boy frowned. “Guard.”

  “What?”

  “He’s my guard, not nursemaid.”

  “Call it whatever you want, love,” Arden said.

  His brows scrunched. Then he had the audacity to remain calm, her words seeming to slide over him like a cool breeze. Worse, he chuckled as if he found her particularly amusing. “What’s your name?”

  “What’s yours?” she countered, annoyed.

  “My name is Dade,” he said. His eye contact never wavered.

  Arden swallowed.

  Dade. Why did his name sound familiar?

  “Which family do you belong to?” she asked. Identifying which of the three Solizen families he was from would go a long way toward choosing how to finish this conversation. It would also help her figure out the reason for the warning that itched in the back of her mind.

  His body tensed. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Right. As if that didn’t speak volumes. She pushed. “You know you want to tell me, or you wouldn’t have asked my name.”

  “You have a point, but I still want to know who you are.” The grin, the constant shining smile, never wavered. Was he always this happy? What an odd thing to be.

  “What makes you think I won’t lie?”

  His eyes widened. “Because I’ll be able to tell.”

  “I doubt that.” And for some inexplicable reason, she gave him her real name. “Arden.”

  “Arden,” he repeated, his eyes sliding shut as if he wanted to savor the word on his tongue. When they opened, he looked at her with a new intensity. “Your name is as pretty as you are.”

  She rolled her eyes, letting out a half huff, half laugh. She wouldn’t allow herself to be taken in by his charm.

  Then it clicked: the reason he looked familiar. He was a fixture on the visicast. The gossip cams loved him. He was not just a random member of the powerful families, a cousin or kinsman, someone with little power and a big name. He was the prize, the only son of Hernim Croix, the head of the most powerful Solizen family.

  She felt a flood of anger, mostly toward herself, at how she’d stepped into this position without foresight. Decisions like this led to disappointment and death. Because in the few minutes she’d spoken to him, she found herself more charmed than she’d ever been. Yet she knew she could never have another intimate moment with him. The realization came with a sadness that was silly, really.

  And she’d told him her name. Arden let out a soft exhale, beating herself up with self-recrimination. She looked behind him to strategize her exit. The time had come to go, whether she wanted to or not.

  They stood at the edge of the market on Level One, Above. There were no skywalks—open-air pedestrian walkways—on this Level. The ground stretched from one side to the other. She’d made sure when she confronted him to do so in an area where she could minimize attention. That turned out to be a good thing when he’d managed to gain the upper hand.

  Flashing lights from neon signs were bright in the fog, beckoning customers to peruse carnal delights, and the sounds of the streets were a familiar riot of calls. It was a busy day as usual. The streets rushed with people. The sky above was perpetually dark with static smog, making anything below it freeze from the constant chill.

  It seemed much colder here than where she lived because of the stiff wind that rattled through the empty space of the skyway, where the hovercars and speeders zoomed past. The city soared upward. He was from the highest of the high above the clouds where he could see the purple sky and blood-orange sun. She was from the dregs far below. They couldn’t have been farther apart if they had tried.

  “As much as I want to continue this, I’m afraid I have to go,” Arden said.

  “You’re not leaving.” He pressed the knife closer to her throat as if to emphasize his point. “I may not ever let you go.”

  In spite of her heart lurching at the possessive heat in his voice, she replied dryly, “You think you can stop me?”

  She didn’t consider using her weapons on him. There was no need. She wanted to prove a point, not escalate the confrontation. With a fluid movement, she shoved the butt of her hand into his sternum, and then slipped her foot between his parted legs, catching the back side of his heel with a quick turn. At the same time, she pulled forward, shifting him off balance.

  Dade gasped for breath, stepping back to right himself before tumbling to the street, while Arden easily stepped out of his hold. People stopped to stare, forming circles around them to give Arden and Dade a wide berth. They didn’t have enough self-preservation to scatter. Instead, the pointing started.

  She took Dade’s free hand, twisting it behind his back, and with her other hand, gripped the wrist holding the knife, her fingers digging into his pressure point. She cocked his wrist until the knife slipped free. When it fell, she caught it, flipping it in the air so that it pointed forward. Then she shoved him around so that his back slammed against the wall in the same spot where she had just been.

  Arden held the knife to his neck, in a perfect mirror of their former positions.

  They stared at each other. The moment seemed much longer than the mere second it really was. Arden calm, hands steady. Dade, his chest moving up and down, his eyes slightly too wide, and a faint blush staining his cheeks. She waited to let him go until his expression changed from surprise and embarrassment to wariness. It was the reaction she wanted to see. Yet it felt harsh and cruel, and she hated herself for it.

  Her feet danced back, separating her from the growing connection between them. She hoped to sever it like she did the press of their bodies.

  Dade pushed himself off the wall. He absently rubbed at his wrist as he watched her with narrowed eyes. His shoulders squared, and his body tightened aggressively.

  Arden didn’t like his new attitude, even though it was one she’d purposely manipulated. It felt antithetical to his natural state. She hardened her thoughts while she flipped the knife in her hand. Up it twisted, spinning, the metal forming a whirligig as it tilted end over end, the pommel landing smoothly back in her palm. She launched it once more. “The takeaway here is that you should never underestimate your opponent.”

  “I didn’t think I had.”

  “There is a reason your family insists you have protection. You know you shouldn’t walk the Levels without your guard. Especially with that.”
She pointed the tip of the dagger at his tattoo. She wasn’t the one walking around with a sign asking for trouble, a sign that served no other purpose whatsoever. “There are too many people who would take advantage of you. Some might kidnap you for ransom—that is, if you’re lucky. Others are far more likely to gut you.” She hardened her voice, hoping to get beyond his anger to make him feel fear, or at least get him to consider making better choices. “I should kill you and leave your body on the streets for the animals to eat. That is what happens to Solizen who don’t stay in their ivory towers.”

  Unfortunately, he didn’t seem cowed. If anything, he grinned with delight, and his eyes sparkled with mirth. Any hardness he’d momentarily displayed slipped away as if it had never been. This day and this boy were very odd, indeed.

  Plus, how could she criticize him when she doubted her own threat even as the words left her mouth? Could she really kill him now that she’d spoken with him? Found out that he was more? Made him real in her mind? Her stomach clenched, but she swallowed back the sour taste, pointedly keeping her aggressive stance.

  “I can take care of myself,” he said, showing none of the weakness she’d expected now that their situation had reversed. He looked as comfortable as she’d been.

  Arden acknowledged that he was probably right. He did have skill, though it was evident he’d never fought anyone outside of a training room. The way he hesitated showed he really didn’t want to hit her. Yet that wasn’t the point. She did not want to see him in this position again. Did not want to be forced to kill him. He needed to promise to stay off her streets.

  “The real world is a lot different than your Tower,” she said. “People on the streets don’t play by gentlemen’s rules.”

  His eyes blazed as his fire came back, and his hands tightened into fists at his side. “I’m not a siskin,” he said, using the derogatory slang for a Solizen. His voice lowered to a growl. “Next time you won’t be able to get away from me so easily.”

  Arden sighed. Fine then, if he wouldn’t listen, there was nothing more she could do. This boy was of no consequence, she reminded herself sternly. He was a cog in a family whose members crushed others beneath their feet. Dade could not be separated from them, just as she could not be separated from her family.