Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) - By Dan Rix Page 0,74

him?

The driver opened the door again, and the screaming jets scrambled her thoughts. She stumbled out into the haze of heat. Her hair lifted and blew across her face, catching the sun like strands of glass, blinding her.

She had to make sure he was okay. No, she had no right, he was with his half now—

Clive grabbed her waist and hurried her toward the jet’s airstairs, and her shirt scraped across the still wet cuts on her back. The sting made her flinch.

Clearly Aaron’s half wasn’t keeping him safe. She was probably dumb and spineless. And ugly. Besides, what did it matter anyway if Aaron and Amber weren’t halves? She was in love with him.

Amber halted in the plane’s doorway. “I want to go back,” she said.

Clive grabbed her wrist. “Not now, Amber.”

She yanked herself free. “Did you hear me?”

“We can’t,” said Clive.

“Why not? Aren’t you the heir?” she said, and she knew she was going to have to pay for this later.

“You think I do whatever I want?” said Clive, his eyes narrowing.

She stepped up the last step, and their eyes were almost level. “Unless you’re scared,” she said, and though her thoughts were a dizzying blur, she didn’t blink. The operation. Casler could use her clairvoyance instead of Aaron’s. Clive would never let her, but if she went straight to Casler—

“The potentate is expecting us,” said Clive.

“Oh, so this is the potentate’s honeymoon?”

“It’s ours.”

“Then prove it,” she said, and with a final, smoldering look she kissed him in a way she never wanted Aaron to know about.

***

It was out of Aaron’s hands now.

Later, Tina called him back and said she might have gotten through; maybe Amber heard. Maybe.

Maybe he was asking for too much.

Aaron stormed out of his house and down the street. He hurried through morning shadows, crisp with icy air. He headed nowhere, just away.

She was the most meaningful part of his life, yet for a whole month he had denied it, pushed her away, hurt her—when all along she was supposed to be his half.

But just to be sure, Aaron went over the details one more time. Eighteen years ago, Clive was about to die from half death, but Dr. Selavio split him from his half. He did the same thing to Amber, and the two of them snapped together—stopping Clive’s leak. Dr. Selavio must have used his machine on Amber’s mother while she was giving birth to Amber.

And Clive . . . he could have been older. Once his son was connected to Amber, Casler only had to fake his birth certificate. He could have been twenty.

With each passing hour, Aaron felt more feverish. His heart thundered, rattling his skull with every beat. In the evening, he knelt in his driveway and watched the sun bleed through the trees. The violet sky gaped above him, ready to swallow him whole.

And he waited.

Around three in the morning, he got a response. His cell phone beeped, and he barely heard it through the clammy fog of his own thoughts. A text message from a number he didn’t recognize.

Tina told me. Next time, you can just send me a rose.

Aaron felt his heart lighten. He thumbed his reply with shaky fingers. So you’re back? How’d you do it?

Don’t ask. Where are you?

Twenty minutes later, Aaron glided his Mazda through the parking lot at Arroyo beach and untwisted his ignition wires. His house wasn’t safe.

Around him, glistening black cliffs towered out of view. And what if the texts weren’t hers? What if it was a trap? Clive, with someone else’s phone, maybe?

The night seeped in, ice-cold and surreal.

A few minutes later, headlights swerved into the parking lot—and Amber’s powder blue Bug pulled up next to him.

A figure stepped out, and then it became real.

***

The first thing he saw was a shock of silver hair, shimmering under the quarter moon. He jumped out of his car, and Amber fell into his arms. Soundlessly, they held each other. When his hand brushed her back, she winced and took quick, shallow breaths.

Almost as soon as they touched, though, she jumped away. Her eyes darted to the Mazda’s empty passenger seat. “I forgot—”

He yanked her back. “There’s no one there.”

Her green eyes locked on his. “You came alone?”

“So did you.”

“What about your half?”

“You’re my half,” he said. “You were right all along. They switched us. Clive’s not even eighteen.”

Amber searched his gaze. “Then why was it him at the Chamber?” she said.

“Clive’s half died before you were born,” said Aaron. “They used