Read Online Golden Son by Pierce Brown - Free Book Online

beggars,cripples,children.Thelost.
    Eowouldsaythisisthehellthey’vebuilttheirheavenupon.Andshe’dberight.Gazingup,Isee more than half a kilometer of tenement buildings before the polluted haze makes a ceiling for the humanjungle.Clotheslinesandelectricallinescrisscrossoverheadlikevines.Thissightishopeless.
    Whatistheretochangeherebuteverything?
    We’retomeetattheLostWeeDen.Itisalarge,talltavernwithaflickeringredsigncoveredin pithygraffiti.Fifteenlevels,allopenandlookingdownonacentraldrinkinghalloftablesandbooths filledwithsometwohundredcustomers.Icansmellthepissinthemetalbooths,whichsagfromuse.
    Bottlesrattleandglassesclinkasswillisslammedback.Indigoandpinklightsflickeronthefifteenth floor, where they’ve dancers and private rooms for customers. I pass with Valentin through two bouncerswithbiomodhands—oneObsidianwithskinpaleasbleachedmarbleandarmsthickerthan
    mine,theotheradark-skinnedGraywithascorchermuzzlebuiltintohisarm.
    TherestofmyGraysfilterinbehindmeinstaggeredintervals.Somewearingcontacts,pretending tobeotherColors.OneevenwearingafleshMasktolookprettyasaPink.Can’teventellit’sdigital tillyouputamagnetnearit.Theylookliketheybelonghere.IdoubtIdo,despitetheObsidiandye jobthey’vedonetome.
    TheSigilsonmyhandsarecoveredwithObsidianprosthetics.Myhairiswhite,eyesblack.Skin made paler with cosmetics. Victra and I are too large to pass for any other Color. Fortunately, Obsidians,thoughrarerthantheotherlowColors,arenotoutofplacedownhere.IfollowValentinto a table in an alcove near the back of the hall where a young man lounges behind a pack of mercenariesandasingleObsidian.AdeepsilencefillsmeasIwatchtheObsidianstandandleavethe tabletositatanadjacentone.Otherseyehimtoobeforerememberingthemselvesandlookingdown attheirdrinks—likewaterbirdsasacrocodileglidespast.TheObsidianisafoottallerthanI.Andthe wholeofhisfaceistattooedwithaskull. Stained .
    Somuchforalowprofile.
    “Bettertoreigninhellthanserveinheaven?”Iasktherecliningman.
    “Reaper!EvenMiltonknewLuciferwasapettysonofabitch.”Hesmilesenigmaticallyandwaves tothechairacrossfromhim.“Dostoptoweringoverme.”
    He’snotevenwearingadisguise.IlookoveratVictra.“Thoughtitwasgoingtobeanewfriend.”
    “Well,youtwohaveneverbeen friends before.That’dbethenewpart.Youboyshavefunnow.”
    “You’renotstaying?”Iask.
    “Ishowed you thedoor. You haveto walk through it.”She squeezes mybutt playfully and sways out.TheJackalwatchesherleave,leaningslightlytogetabetterview.
    “Didn’tthinkyoucaredaboutwomen.”
    “I could be dead and I’d still appreciate her. But I don’t have to tell you that. Alone in space for monthsonend.Shipalltoyourself.Whateverwastheretodo?”
    Isitacrossfromhim.Heoffersmeabottleofgreenishliquor.
    Ishakemyhead.“Idrinktoforgetaboutmenlikeyou.”
    “Ha!AnArcosianinsult,ifI’mnotmistaken.OneofLorn’sbest.Thoughthere’senoughtochoose from.”Heleansback.Enigmaticinhisdullness.Faceplain.Eyeslikesmooth,worncoins.Hairthe colorofdesertsand.Lonehandtwirlingasilverstyluswiththequicknessofaninsectskitteringover blasted ground, crack to crack. “The Jackal of Augustus and the Reaper of Mars, together again, at longlast.Howwehavefallen.”
    “You chose the venue,” I say as he sets his stylus behind his ear and takes a chicken leg from a platteronthetable.Hestripstheskinwithhisteeth.
    “Doesitunnerveyou?”
    “Whywouldit?Webothknowhowfondyouareofthedark.”
    Hesuddenlylaughs,awhininghigh-pitchedbark,likeadogbeingstabbed.“Somuchpridetoyou, Darrow au Andromedus. Family all dead. Disgraced, penniless things. So average that your parents didn’teventrytointroduceyoutoSociety.Nofriendsremaining.Noonewhoknewyoubeforeyou slippedintotheInstitute,sounassuming-like.Buthowyourosewhengivenachance.”
    “Well,atleastyoustillliketotalk,”Imutter.
    “Andyoustillliketomakeenemies.”
    “Everyone has a hobby.” I examine the stump where his right hand should be. “Desperate for