Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,205

was doing to console her. He cradled her while Cyler stood in shock.

“You sent me to Galla to marry a stranger,” she cried out. “You forgot me.” Her words were muffled. She bit down on her arm to stop the screams from escaping her chest.

Jacob circled the couch and patted her shoulder while Kemper got a tissue. I moved towards her and sat on the side not occupied by Maverick and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close. I felt guilty and self-absorbed. Even though I knew Jules had many facets to her personality, seeing her break down made it all so real. My involvement in how her brothers pushed her away made me fill with shame.

“He better be okay. That damn Scavenger has me all out of sorts,” she sniffled then wiped her nose on Maverick’s sleeve despite the tissue Kemper tried to hand her.

“Since when are you and Tallis together?” Patrick asked with a chuckle, making us all laugh.

Jules turned to look at me. Her eyes softened and despite the red splotches on her skin, she still looked beautiful.

“Let’s save their asses, shall we?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes before responding. “I guess someone’s gotta do it.”

Chapter Twenty

Jules was abnormally quiet as we lounged upstairs. She slept in later than usual after scouting out the signal station all night with Kemper. Kemp seemed invigorated by the new opportunity to escape, but also overwhelmed by our limited time.

Dominique stopped by after lunch carrying two large white boxes with bows on them. She plopped them on our beds, then sighed when we didn’t immediately jump at the opportunity to open them.

“Go on,” she began. “They’re for you. Open it!” She waltzed over to the box on my bed, popped the top, and pulled out an elegant black dress with lace fabric.

“This seems rather…” I thumbed the material between my fingers, “...intimate. What’s it for?” I asked.

The dark color reminded me of Mistress Stonewell’s funeral dress, but the high slit made it too revealing to be in Galla fashion.

“Cavil called this morning. He’s insisted that you attend his coming home party tonight,” Dominique replied with a frown.

Jules opened her box and held up a very short, wine-colored dress which undoubtedly showed way more skin than mine. I wondered if it was Cavil or Dominique that picked out the dresses.

“Why does he want me—us—there?” I asked. We didn’t need any additional complications. The signal station was already one of the most complex networks Kemper had ever seen, and Maverick was working round the clock to solidify his cure findings before we left. Cyler was walking the streets, listening to rumors about Cavil’s return, while Huxley, Patrick and Jacob walked the beach trying to find a transport they could steal. What little plan we had formed was completely dependent upon unconfirmed variables: Cavil’s party and Tallis’ return. Then, of course, there were the emotional uncertainties. I still found it difficult to think that Josiah’s execution would ultimately result in our freedom.

“I—I don’t want to go,” I said. I wished to sound more confident, but my voice was shaky. There was something edgy about Dominique that made me wary. It was odd to feel such sympathy and fear for the same person.

She let out a short laugh before responding, “Do you honestly think you have a choice? Especially after what Maverick pulled before Cavil left?” As Dominique spoke, Jules removed her ratty pajamas borrowed from one of the guys, before slipping into the sensual dress Dominique brought her. I looked at how the dress hugged every curve, yet I also noticed a dark tiredness in her eyes.

“If these dresses are anything to go by, I’d say Cavil just wants some eye candy at the event,” Jules said while wiggling her brows, but her lackluster skin dimmed the humorous effect she intended. What was wrong with her?

Jules turned around slowly with a grin. I knew that she loved clothes and the prettier things in life, but I found myself reluctantly accepting the dress Cavil wanted us to wear. How could we accept such a beautiful gift for such a dismal occasion?

“Does Cavil always throw parties upon his return?” I asked. I didn’t remember a party for when he returned with the guys, but it was also early morning when they arrived .

Dominique rolled her eyes while checking her comm-watch. The last time I pressed her for answers, she lashed out. But once again, I tried my luck at mapping out Cavil’s personality.

“Usually when Cavil