“Move his weapon to his mark.” Kane is a few feet away, with Luce huddled over Holden.
They struggle to move his blood stained sword to his left hip. My blood, Fletcher’s blood, will burn off in the ether. No one will know what he did, what he took from us, from Addy.
Because we’re not ready to expose him and the effects of the serum. It’ll be the squad’s word against Centrum. And we can't show our hand now. We’re the only chance for all those held captive in that lab.
The evidence dissipates against his warrior marks and my calm follows. A sharp, gaping pain in my chest carves me as deep as the ragged hole in my side. My head falls forward and the rocky terrain looks inviting. How much longer can I keep it together before it all crashes down?
My mind shouts and prods with reasons to stand up. To rise and step back into this world. This devouring existence that tears and chews away at me, never satisfied.
It wasn’t satisfied with my family, with Rosa, and now Fletcher. Its ravenous maw gnaws and snaps, eager and close. And I’m so tired. I’ve raged and skirted it my whole life. Its cavernous pit with vaporous whispers. It promises a consuming void of nothingness, a quiet for my ceaseless thoughts, my poisonous guilt, and hollow heart. A siren’s call to stop my power from healing, a call of rest, of an end.
“Not yet. Just a little more, Rain.” Elia’s steady heart beats fierce and demanding in front of me.
Always insisting more. Always pushing. Always pulling me in. And for the first time since we met, I want to shove her away. Her honey scent folds over me and I hold my breath. If I had the energy, I’d back away. But my knees have long since gone numb with the rest of me.
Her gentle fingers run through my hair to release the strap of my goggles. They slide down to hang at my neck. Her small hands are ice against my heated cheeks and come away wet. I stare up into her warm golden eyes through heavy watery pools and my breath rushes out to embrace her. I haven’t shed a tear since I was six years old, since my first year alone.
Something close to a growl erupts through my clenched teeth, and the flash of my blue eyes warns her away. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her grating patience and misplaced hope. I don’t want the millstone noose of her expectations. I don’t want my heart to spark for the doomed dream of a future she fans.
She pushes a wad of black material into my chest and checks over her shoulder. The fog is almost gone and we’re alone with only the gate guards retrieving the bodies of the fallen. I reach up to take the fresh uniform shirt, but that’s as far as I get. With all my power focused on my side, my arms are dead weight.
“We have to cover you up.” She kneels in front of me and starts unbuttoning my ruined shirt.
She’s careful not to brush against my skin. Her pouty lips are turned down and the groove between her brows invites my finger to smooth it. A fleeting dream of us like this in another setting heats my cheeks. I greedily inhale her now. Because I’ll never be able to extract this tiny force of a warrior. Even worlds apart, she’ll always be burrowed deep inside me demanding to be known, felt.
She works each arm out of the shirt. It falls to the ground, and a pinched growl rumbles through her teeth when my wound is exposed. I look down and the jagged vertical gash glows white and sparks blue from somewhere inside. A translucent membrane of skin stretches over the expanse like a protective shield. Dried, caked clumps of blood flake off and I wonder if it's mine or Fletchers. I choke down the rush of acidic bile and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Hurry.” I want her gone and my healing wound hidden.
She slides my arms through the new uniform and swiftly covers my side with the material before working the buttons from the bottom up. Nimble fingers disrupt my thoughts and her breath teases my skin in faint, rhythmic strokes. Her presence slams against my resistance.
It’s a warm, vibrant hearth chasing away the rushing void. The tension in my muscles melt and the vice on my lungs snap. My body ignites with all the reasons to lean in, to reach out, to hold tight. While my mind battles for the deserved nothingness of letting go.
“It’s too late to escape your hold.” I spit out.
“And you don’t think you’ve shattered, stomped your way through me?” She stops and slowly lays both of her palms onto my stomach.
It quivers and hollows against her touch. The green in her eyes takes over when she peers into mine. Her frame rocks with a tremble and she inches her palms up my chest. It’s an act of will to leave her gaze. But the sight of her small, delicate hands on my bare skin is something to cement to memory.
Her rough, calloused warrior-born touch leaves a trail of electric blue in its wake. My energy rises to greet her. And somehow I know she’ll never be in danger from my powers.
One hand falls away, and I’d snatch it back to where it belongs if I could move. The other presses into the place over my heart. There’s no hiding her effect on me now. My heart skips and pounds to be closer to her, and I understand the need.
“Iva is drawing too much attention fighting the medics.” Luce’s raspy intrusion breaks the spell.
The captain jerks her hand off me, jumping to her feet. I hiss at the sudden loss and my hand shoots out, encircling her wrist. Wisps of hair float around her shuttering face when she turns back to me.
“That was too close.” She whispers.
And I agree. I was too close to crossing the distance and taking what I want. But I don’t imagine she means the same thing when she aims a pointed look at my wound.
“He’s insisting they use the crash equipment on Fletcher’s b..body.” Luce draws a shaky breath and I drop my hold on the captain.
“Help him cover up and get him on our transport.” The captain races through the gates.
Luce leans over and is quick to finish buttoning me up. Fletcher’s body will be transported back to Centrum until his family is ready for him. I stare at the sharp slate rocks digging into my knees and let the cold seep back in. This serrated terrain, saturated with warrior blood and demon ichor, is a welcome alternative to what lies inside the walls.
“Which side is it?” Her words are as robotic as I feel.
“My right.”
She nods and bends to throw my left arm over her shoulder. She straightens as I fumble to move my legs back under me.
“It’s ok, I can take more of your weight.” She plants her feet and I push up, using her to stand.
I’m upright and I nod for her to release me. I have to walk through those gates on my own, as any uninjured warrior would. My hands fist and I follow Luce to the gate. My stomach threatens to spew with each step. I try not to think about how disconnected and loose my insides feel and wish I had a bandage holding me tight.
The guards are busy securing the barrier wall in front of the gate with more traps. And I hope this breach was the catalyst. That the sacrifice of our warrior born today was not in vain and the tech in the weapons vault is being deployed to all the regions. Fletcher’s grateful smile from the transport assaults my mind and I squeeze my next blink.
“Where is she?” I can’t say her name, not after I failed in my promises.
I hurt her again. This time, beyond repair.
“She’s with him. She won’t leave his side.” Luce pushes her wild, flaming hair over her shoulder. “She’s in denial. It’s like she expects him to…”
I nod even though Luce picks up her pace to walk ahead instead of finishing her sentence. I make it through the gate. Warriors and officers rush about in organized chaos.
Dr. Lutz and his team of scientists surround Holden’s squad. But no Holden. He must be with the medics, still knocked out. I have no idea when they’ll figure out we used a paralytic on him. Or how we’ll answer that since our squad carried him back.
But all of that falls away when Iva rushes past. He’s pushing Fletcher on a crash cart. The wheels of the gurney jump over the uneven terrain. And the fluids and machines hooked up to Fletcher’s body sway back and forth. Addy jogs next to it to keep up, his lifeless hand gripped in hers.
