Catastrophic Attraction (The Deviant Future Book 4)

by Eve Langlais

  “Why?”

  “Because of our bloodline. I began showing signs of an active Deviant gene at an early age.”

  “And your brother?”

  “They kept waiting for him to manifest. He’s got a very strong Deviant marker.”

  “But he’s not activated.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. It’s been a long time since anyone tested us.”

  “How did you escape Enclave custody?” Now that he’d started, he kept talking, and she allowed it. Which would have surprised just about everyone who knew her.

  “We got loose during a transport. One of the guards moving us was a pervert. He stopped the truck and thought he could climb in the back with me and do disgusting things.”

  “Fuck.” He gasped. “Casey. I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” she asked quite seriously. “You didn’t do it, and it doesn’t change the past. This happened over twenty years ago.” Her lips twisted. “The guard didn’t survive the attempt.”

  “You killed him?”

  She shook her head. “I hid in the shadows. Cam handled it for me.” He was always a big kid. “Your turn. How did Charlie’s mother die?

  His lips turned down. “I’d rather not.”

  “You’re still going to.”

  He heaved out a heavy breath. “Ambush in that public square you saw the other day. By the sweets shop.”

  “Ambush how? Targeted? Accidental?”

  “Some Enclave soldiers found Eden and attacked. Theona, Charlie’s mother, shoved me out of the way of gunfire but couldn’t save herself. I barely escaped with Charlie.”

  On the surface, the story seemed horrible and a little too noble. Like something to make the dead sound good, perhaps to a child. On a hunch, she said, “Now that I know the version you told Charlie, give me the truth.”

  “What makes you think that wasn’t?”

  “Because I’ve seen what you can do. You would have thrown up a shield and deflected it.”

  He eyed her, his gaze a stormy gray and blue sky. His expression grim. “You are astute.”

  “Meaning I’m right.”

  A sigh heaved out of him. “The truth is Charlie’s mother was a conniving spy.”

  Chapter 12

  “I’m going to need more details,” Casey demanded.

  Admit his shame? His shoulders slumped. “I met Theona by accident in the Marsh.”

  Accident? Not quite. But he didn’t know that until much later, after he’d analyzed every moment that led to the betrayal.

  He’d come across Theona while on a return trip from the port city. He’d gone to see his brother, a man he’d found out only by accident when Darius came looking for a father that was no longer alive.

  The paths back to the marshes were many and varied. Back in those days, they were wilder, too, with the Enclave having chosen to concentrate their protection more on the area around the city. Since the game was plentiful, and his grumbly vehicle more than capable of lugging a beast, when he saw some promising tracks, he chose to stop and hunt.

  Roark perched in a gnarled tree, bow at the ready, when he heard the sounds of a battle. Snarls and screams. Human screams.

  He’d never been one to stand by idly. Not after what happened to his father.

  When he came across the ruins of a caravan that had been torn into by something with cruel claws, he’d meant to strip it of valuables and move on. Only he heard a noise.

  Inside the crushed cabin of a tipped-over vehicle, he found Theona of the long platinum hair, the sweetest, soft smile. Her shy demeanor intrigued Roark. He did his best to coax her out of the bashful shell she hid behind.

  Given she was terrified and abandoned, sobbing that her parents died in the attack, he’d brought her back to his home via a dangerous circuitous route that involved her being partially blindfolded along the way. Because being besotted with the pretty woman didn’t mean he was completely stupid. Only once they were in sight of Eden—a name he’d chosen because of some ancient text that called it paradise—did he remove the binding around her eyes.

  “This is where I live,” he’d declared, sweeping his arm at the ruins he’d begun reclaiming a few years ago.

  Inside the wall they’d hastily patched, the buildings jutted, jagged sets of teeth overgrown with vines and, in some cases, tumbled-down chunks of stone. Once upon a time the ruins had been a great city. He’d found a painting of it sealed away in a room along with a few other treasures. He’d taken over one of the most untouched buildings in the heart of it. Over the last few years, others had joined him. Like Jonas, who could fish like no one’s business, and his wife who did incredible things when she cooked it.

  Then there was Anita’s father, Maurice, a gruff man who’d lost an eye in a mad wizard attack. The mad part being the fate of those who didn’t learn to control their gift. And even then, it was said the strongest disciplined sometimes succumbed the hardest.

  People joined him. Believers like Roark who saw the same potential he did when he looked upon the remains. Planned how they could rebuild.

  Eden was going to be their paradise.

  Theona didn’t see the future. Her expression as she beheld the crumbling ruins he’d commandeered held a hint of a sneer. “This is your home? You live here?”

  He tried to ignore the disdain. “Yes. We’ve been rebuilding.”

  “Slowly by the looks of it.”

  “You should have seen it when we found it.” The memory made him realize how far they had come. “We’re going to bring it back to its former glory.”

  “Maybe in a few decades,” she’d muttered. He might have taken offense, yet in that moment, she turned a bright smile on him. “This place is amazing. You’re amazing.”

  Unlike most people he ran into, he couldn’t read her mind. He didn’t know she lied. Wouldn’t have believed it, given she was in his bed two days later.

  She spent days with him, asking him to show her around, asking so many questions. Forget his earlier caution. He let her see every important cranny and did so gladly, never realizing just how she played him. It hurt so bad later when he found out she’d used him.

  Despite a very glorious week, she eventually asked to go home. She claimed her remaining family would miss her.

  “I’ll miss you,” Roark had said, a foolish young man in love.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

  But he did worry, which was why, despite the protests of his Marsh neighbors, he led her exit out by the bluffs. Following them, she’d be in the city before nightfall. Given she lived in the city, he did wonder what she’d been doing travelling in the Marsh with her parents.

  She’d pouted. “Why won’t you come with me?”

  “Because the city isn’t my thing.”

  “How am I supposed to find you again?”

  “Will you come back?” He remembered searching her gaze, sad at seeing her go, but wondering if it wasn’t for the best. There was something false about her humor. As if the smile hid something.

  “Don’t tell me what we did meant nothing to you.” Her lower lip wobbled, and her eyes welled with tears.

  “Of course it meant something,” he hastened to say. “And if you want to return to me, I’d be more than happy.”

  “But how will you know when I’m ready? I’ll never find my way back unless you draw me a map.”

  A map that could get into the wrong hands? He wasn’t that besotted. “You shouldn’t travel alone. You’ll need an escort, meaning we need a signal.”

  Eyeing their location, he pointed to the goliath of a tree, reaching much higher than the others and split into many twining trunks from a single base. “See this tree? If you want to come back, send someone to put out a yellow ribbon.”

  “How is a yellow ribbon supposed to help?”

  “I’ll ensure someone swings by to look for it on a regular basis. If they see it, they’ll tell me, and I’ll make arrangements to fetch you in the city.”

  “Or mayb
e I’ll just show up and surprise you.”

  “Don’t be foolish. You don’t want to get lost in the Marsh.”

  “You’re right. I guess this is goodbye.” Their kiss was long and lingering. Despite holding on to him the whole ride out, she drove off on his vehicle with a bit more speed and skill than he’d have expected.

  The loss of it left him on foot for the journey back, but he didn’t mind the time to clear his head and even enjoy his freedom again.

  Once back in the ruins, Roark found it difficult to stray far over the next few weeks given a series of incidences requiring his attention. He never did quite make it back to monitor the tree himself. Not that it would have mattered. Those that checked for him didn’t report any yellow ribbons.

  Theona had come into his life and left it. While he missed her, at the same time, with her gone, he’d managed to recapture the excitement he felt when he saw the possibilities ahead of him, especially when a group of eight straggled in. Five men, three women, four children. Nomads ready to try a life that didn’t involve packing up and finding a new spot lest the predators mark them.

  About a month after his return, the budding city suffered a spate of bad luck. Hunting crews came back empty-handed because their catch had already been stripped from the traps. Crops they were counting on were torched before they could reap. A well went dirty. Then another. And another.

  So many bad things hit the tiny settlement that it brought grumbles and murmurs that perhaps they should leave. Eden was cursed.

  The very land itself was fighting them. Only then did it occur to him they might have a spy. The group in Eden had swollen to almost two hundred people now. Too many to keep track of, although he’d met them all. He’d shaken their hands but not looked inside their minds at their actual intent.

  Up until this point, he’d played very little with his mental power. Mostly because he couldn’t forget his mother screeching—"Get out of my head!” He was more than happy given the angry place she harbored within, first resenting the husband that died, then hating him when she found out he had another family in the city.

  It was how Roark first learned he had a brother.

  He learned to stay out of heads after that and stuck to lighting fires and shaping water. But the incidences kept happening. A few families left. He had to do something.

  Despite it being something he’d avoided, almost three months after Theona left, he started peeking inside people’s heads. Not those he’d known since the beginning. He trusted them. But the newer folk.

  Like that man who didn’t say much but he’d seen around. Bald, with an earring. No one recalled seeing him hanging with anyone. No one called him family or friend.

  Antisocial? Possible. And yet, when Roark cornered the man and said, “We need to talk,” the man pulled a knife.

  The suspected spy glanced wildly left and right. “Come near me and I’ll gut you.”

  “Is this your admission of guilt?” Roark asked, keeping his gaze on the knife, but his mind pushing… His name is Serpo. He’s been sent by the city, hired by some Enclave highborn to sow discord among the Marshlanders.

  At the confirmation he’d hoped was paranoia, Roark recoiled and stared at the man. Stunned by the knowledge.

  Serpo didn’t hesitate. He stabbed Roark, might have killed him, too, if Roark hadn’t thrust himself into Serpo’s head and commanded he stop. The brutal injection of his will killed the man. Roark might have felt sorrier if he’d not realized that the Enclave sending Serpo practically constituted an act of war.

  After that, Eden established tougher rules for admittance. Newcomers were grilled, not only by the people but then peeked at by Roark. They killed two more spies after Serpo.

  Things became calm again. Enough that he finally managed to make it to the tree he’d left Theona at almost four months ago. It had been long enough that he’d convinced himself he missed her. He sat at its base and wondered what she was doing. Obviously better things than returning to him. He camped there for three nights. He couldn’t have said exactly why.

  Yet he’d assumed it was fate when he awoke the morning of the fourth, finally ready to go home, and heard the sound of an engine. Not just any engine, his old chugging and spitting motor. He barely dared to believe when vehicle came to a stop, the helmet came off, and the white-blonde hair swung free.

  Theona smiled at him. “Isn’t this a coincidence.”

  “What are you doing here?” he’d replied somewhat dumbfounded.

  She held up her hand and dangled a yellow ribbon. “Coming to see if you meant what you said.”

  “It’s good to see you.” He’d taken a step toward Theona, only to notice her swelling belly.

  “What?” He swallowed hard before he could ask. “What is that?”

  “I’d say that was obvious.”

  “Who is the father?”

  Her smile widened. “You are my only lover.”

  He shook his head. “Impossible. I last saw you only four months ago.”

  “Not impossible with the right kind of prenatal care and funds to pay for injections to speed up growth. An Earl in Emerald was most eager to help. I would advise if you want her born in your castle to hustle.” She put a hand on the hump. “She’s going to come any day now.”

  “She?” He blinked at the big belly.

  “You’re going to have a daughter.”

  Stunned, he didn’t ask her the questions he should have, such as why she’d waited so long to return. Why she came back. But he was happy and stupid. All the symptoms of a man in love.

  He drove as fast as he dared, watching nervously as Theona trailed behind. The nights provided no rest, as he insisted she have a full night’s sleep while he stood watch.

  By the time he arrived at Eden, he was practically driving in his sleep. He only barely recalled parking the vehicles and stumbling to his house. When next he woke, it was because Theona was shaking him.

  “Wake up. The baby is coming.”

  The words took a moment to penetrate. When they did, he’d rolled out of bed and run for Jenny the midwife, who he only knew about because she’d helped them deliver a calf that had gotten turned around in the womb.

  With much screaming, and plenty of cursing that they lived in a backwater with the most pathetic lack of pain remedies, Charlie was born, a red squalling bundle with a thatch of shocking white hair.

  Roark fell in love. His perfect daughter. The most incredible thing he’d ever conceived, which was why he couldn’t understand why Theona had little interest.

  After the midwife wiped her down and swaddled her, he’d cradled the baby, his big hand cupping her head. In that moment, any doubts he might have had were gone.

  This was his child.

  He’d brought her to Theona and crouched down to show off their daughter.

  Theona took one look and said, “I’m tired.”

  She was always too tired or busy. Unlike other mothers, Theona showed not a single maternal instinct, meaning he had to hire the services of another just to feed his daughter. The midwife told him that it happened in some cases. Claimed Theona would snap out of it.

  He took heart the day Theona encouraged him to go on a hunting trip and offered to take care of the baby. A part of him knew it was out of character, which was why he initially said no.

  Theona’s lips trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. “You don’t trust me with my own child.”

  The shame inside him was because it was true. Hence why he left and returned within two days. But it was too late.

  Theona had already gone. But oddly enough she’d left Charlotte behind with a tiny pinprick in her skin, as if something had taken some blood.

  No note. Not a single word. Yet, he had no doubt Theona left of her own volition. The woman was not as weak or meek as she liked to portray. Had he ever known her at all? Did he even want to understand a woman who could leave her child?

  It was probably a horrible thing to think, but he was glad
she’d left. He had his daughter, the one person he’d lay his life down for.

  A few months passed, and Charlie grew, developing her own personality, making him find joy anew in the world around him. During that time, Sachi adopted them to the delight of the baby. Charlie had just turned a year old when her mother returned.

  The guards he’d finally placed around Eden never warned him; hence his surprise as he entered the square with Charlie, heading to the fountain, her little arm stretched to hold his hand. They might have moved into the castle at the insistence of the people, but he brought her back often to splash in the water.

  A hand holding on to the back of Charlotte’s romper, he caught the motion of someone entering the square. Someone whose mind didn’t announce its presence. It immediately drew his attention. He gaped surely for a moment because, to his surprise, Theona appeared, shoulders back, features haughty.

  The baby did her best to lean forward and dunk herself, pudgy hands flailing and spraying water. He set her away from the water.

  “Theona?” He couldn’t help the questioning note, especially given the glower on her face.

  “Did you miss me?” was her sarcastic retort.

  The truth was the opposite, so he said nothing at all.

  She halted, looking more savage than usual with her form-fitting pants tucked into boots. Her tight jacket. Her gloves lacked fingers. She jabbed at him. “Is that the girl? Hand her over.”

  The girl? “Her name is Charlotte.”

  “Doesn’t matter what her name is. It can be changed. Give.” She crooked her fingers, as if expecting Roark to hand Charlie over.

  He scooped her closer instead, igniting a protest as he took her away from the water. Charlie didn’t fuss long. She tucked into him and gazed at the woman standing across from them. The one causing a niggling sense of danger to fill him.

  “That’s all you have to say?” he demanded.

  “What else did you expect?”

  “You’ve been gone a year.”

  “And?”

  “Without word?”

  “It’s not as if you’re equipped to exchange messages.” The curl on her lips held the same disdain as before. He saw it clearly now.