Edyn (The Essence Project Book 1)

by C. E. Smith

  Something dark flashed across his face when he said those words, and I quickly diverted him away from continuing. I didn't know what he was thinking, but presumed it had to do with his father lying about me.

  "Well maybe it doesn’t matter what we know about each other. Maybe we’re just supposed to be in each other’s lives regardless. I mean, you hate chocolate pudding, but I’ve never held that against you."

  His face relaxed, and he laughed again. "Hey, times have changed. It’s not so bad now."

  I arched an eyebrow. "Really? Did you forget how much trouble you got into with my mother over wasting pudding?"

  My heart seized.

  Oh, God.

  I'd forgotten all about my mother.

  "Ryker," I said, my voice full of alarm.

  "What is it?" Concern laced his words.

  I took a deep breath and started from nearly the beginning. Skipping over the reason why I ended up in the woods in the first place, I told him about killing the man with the rock and returning home to find those men interrogating my mother. I choked back tears when I thought of what they might’ve done to her after I fled.

  "Hey," he said and pulled me close. "It’s too risky for you to go Topside right now, but I'll send one of my buddies to go check out the house and see if she's alright."

  I nodded. "Thank you. I wonder who the Hell those guys were. I didn't catch any names other than one. He was clearly in charge, and they called him Jophiel."

  Ryker froze. "Did you just say Jophiel?"

  "Yeah, does that mean something to you?"

  He bolted to his feet. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit." He paced for a moment, running his hands through his hair.

  "Ryker, what?" I demanded.

  His eyes were full of terror. "Jophiel is the leader of the Essence Project."

  The shock of his words rattled every part of me, and I couldn’t breathe. "What?"

  Ryker chewed on his thumbnail and stared intently at the floor. "If Jophiel is looking for you, then it's more serious than normal. He never goes on raids, and just sends soldiers to bring people in. I’ve only heard of Jophiel being with them once though, and that was when they were hunting down a Quintessent that showed traits of being a Prophet."

  "A Prophet? But Prophets don’t exist anymore."

  Prophets had died out before the Rapture. Chosen by God, they were people who spoke of the future. They were alarmingly accurate so when they predicted that the Rapture was coming, the rest of the world should've been scared straight.

  But they weren’t.

  "I heard of one down in Miami. Jophiel led his guys down there to grab him. He got word they were looking and went into hiding, but they found him because of that stupid chip in his arm. My God," he said. "If he’s looking for you he’ll trace your chip down here. He might grab others while he’s here."

  "No," I said. "I don’t have a chip."

  He looked puzzled and sat beside me. "What do you mean?"

  I showed him the jagged scar on my right arm. "On Selection Day, I jerked my arm when the machine was putting it in. It didn’t go very deep, and while I was cleaning my arm, I pulled it out. I kept it though and had it in a box in my room. That’s why they were at my house. They tracked it there. I saw one of his guys come into the kitchen from my room, and he had the box."

  Ryker sighed in relief. "That’ll buy us some time." He pulled me close to him and buried his nose in my hair.

  A sudden thought popped inconveniently into my head, and I pulled back. "Wait, do you have an Essence? You haven't said anything about it either way."

  Ryker merely nodded as something I couldn’t put my finger on flashed in his eyes.

  There was a soft knock on the door and a female voice called out, "Ryker? You home?"

  "Ah, Hell," he said and got up to answer it.

  It felt as if a small pebble had landed in my stomach, spreading ripples of apprehension through my body. I glanced up as he opened the door, and a girl about my height threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  Of course he’s with someone.

  I shouldn’t have been so surprised.

  My heart sank.

  "Hey babe, you still want to go down to—" her eyes shifted to me and narrowed. "Who’s this?"

  Ryker glanced, at her then looked at me. "Stella, this is Edyn. Edyn, Stella."

  Stella's arms were still wrapped around his neck. She dropped them unceremoniously to her sides. Ryker was still looking at me, and Stella’s eyes flickered back and forth between the two of us.

  "Hi," I said.

  "Not to be rude," she replied, "but who are you, and what are you doing here?"

  "Stella," said Ryker, with a trace of annoyance in his voice.

  "What? I can’t ask why this strange girl is in your apartment?"

  Ryker put a hand on her upper arm and said, "She’s an old friend. I’m sorry, I forgot about today. We had a long night last night, and it slipped my mind."

  Her eyes went wide. "A long night, huh?"

  "No, no, not like that," he stammered. "My father—"

  I shuddered at the mention of Samuel.

  Stella held up a hand and then flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Say no more. I don’t need to hear it." She turned and looked at me. "Are you okay?"

  Her reaction caught me off guard, and I wondered if there was a history there. "Yes. I am now. There’s no telling what would’ve happened if Ryker hadn’t shown up, though."

  Stella turned back to Ryker. "Do you need any help with anything?" she asked and placed her hand on his chest. "Need help relieving some tension?"

  My back went rigid, and when it did, pain shot up my side. I sucked in a breath and groaned. Ryker was across the room in two strides and dropped to his knees in front of me.

  "What is it? What’s wrong?"

  I shook my head. "I’m okay. I just moved too fast that’s all."

  He cupped my face in one hand. "Are you sure?"

  Stella cleared her throat from by the door, and Ryker shot back to his feet, turning to her.

  "I’ll just leave you two alone I guess," she said and reached for the door.

  "Stella," he said walking back to her.

  She shook her head. "It’s fine. Just come find me later, and let me know if you need anything." She paused and gave me one last look, disdain filling her eyes, and left the apartment.

  I couldn’t say I blamed her. If our roles had been reversed, I would probably have been pretty upset too. Ryker turned the dead bolt and put his hands on the door.

  "She’s pretty," I said softly.

  He laughed under his breath. "Blondes have never really been my thing. I’ll take a dark brunette or a fake redhead any day."

  "I hope I’m not messing anything up for you by being here," I said, looking down at my hands.

  He casually walked back to the living room and perched on the couch next to me. "Stella’s," he paused, looking for the right word. "Complicated."

  I smirked. "Who isn’t? I just don’t want to cause you any problems with your girlfriend."

  At that he laughed again. "Stella’s not really my girlfriend."

  Looking into those blue eyes, I asked, "She’s not?"

  He shook his head. "Not exactly."

  My eyes narrowed. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

  "It’s mainly just casual. I mean, I like spending time with her, but that deep connection just isn’t there for me. I know it is for her, and she knows how I feel, but she’s okay with it. We’re not really dating but it’s nice to have someone to…" his voice trailed off.

  "I see," I replied and turned my head away from him.

  "Hey," he said and softly turned my head back to face him. "She knows what she is to me and that it’s not a permanent thing. Don’t get me wrong, I like her, and I genuinely care about her as a person, but that’s it."

  His blue eyes were striking and seemed to consume me since we were sitting so close. I tried to turn my h
ead away again, but he applied some resistance with his hand that was still on my face. "Don’t worry about Stella," he said.

  I dropped my gaze. There was just something so intense about him. I felt drawn to him like I couldn’t bear not being right beside him. My stomach was fluttering and my face was tingling under his touch. How had we lost so much time, yet I felt this insane connection to him like he had never left?

  "Hey," he said. "Look at me."

  I hesitated before lifting my eyes to meet his. My heart stuttered. I could see the pain and longing in his eyes, mixed with a touch of fear and something else that I couldn’t quite make out.

  "When my father told me you had died, a part of me didn’t believe him," he said. "I held on to that part of me and never forgot it. I always felt a pull towards you, even though I mostly thought you were gone." His eyes searched mine, desperately looking for something.

  A small smile played on my lips. "I have a picture at home of us, you know," I said.

  He tilted his head. "Really? I don’t remember ever taking any."

  "I think that was the only one, but I kept it in the drawer next to my bed. Whenever I saw it, I wondered about what kind of life you were living now, and what kind of person you had become." I paused. "I’m glad I don’t have to wonder anymore."

  He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. "No, you’ll never have to wonder that again. You think I’m letting you get away this time? I don’t know what it is, Edyn, but it just feels right. Us, I mean. I can’t explain it, but it feels like I would fall apart if you left. I don’t want to freak you out or anything because I know this all just sounds insane but I—" he stopped abruptly, unable to find the words.

  He met my eyes, trying to gauge my reaction, and I flashed him a half-smile. His shoulders relaxed as he took in every detail of my face, pausing on my lips. He reached out and cupped my face, brushing my lips gently with the tip of his thumb.

  I closed my eyes and placed my hand over his. "Nothing makes sense anymore, so why should this be any different? I’ve got crazy people after me, I was kidnapped by someone else, who knows what’s going to happen? ‘Stupid’ is the least of my worries right now. Especially when it doesn’t feel that way. Hell, at this rate I could be dead by the end of the week so why worry about being careful with something like this?"

  His weight shifted away from me on the couch, "Don’t say that."

  My eyes shot open, and I laughed. "Why not? Seems like it’s not all that unlikely considering how things are going."

  His tone turned to ice. "Dammit, it’s not funny, Edyn. I can’t lose you again." There was a darkness in his normally luminous blue eyes.

  This side of him caught me off guard. In the back of my mind, I could see a red flag trying to frantically wave around, but I poked it back down.

  I really just wanted to be happy and not fighting right now after going through this nightmare, so I swallowed my pride. Sometimes it was just easier to apologize even when you didn't think you were wrong. "You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't joke like that."

  The tension in his shoulders eased, and his body relaxed as he loosed a breath. His eyes regained their light, and he took my hand without a word. The vanilla and sandalwood smell filled my nose as he leaned closer. Ever so softly, he briefly touched his lips to mine. He pulled back a second, and stared deeply into my eyes.

  There was a soft tenderness in his expression, and I felt blood rushing to my face. He gently kissed the tip of my nose, and placed his lips on my forehead. He held them there for a moment and kissed with a little more urgency. Lowering his forehead to mine, I heard him inhaling deeply. I saw his eyes were closed for a moment, and a look of peace rested on his face.

  Crisis averted.

  I should write a book on relationships.

  Yeah, especially considering this is your first.

  Whatever, it worked, didn’t it?

  My arms slid around his neck, and I whispered, "Where have you been all this time? God, I’ve been searching for you."

  Pulling back a fraction of an inch, he looked deep into my eyes and said, "So have I. I just didn’t know if I would ever find you."

  "Better now than in another twenty years."

  He moaned in agreement and leaned in to kiss my lips. His lips were hard against mine, fueled by a little desperation or fear, I couldn’t tell, and frankly I didn’t care. My mind was slipping away as I pulled him closer and leaned back on the couch. Nothing else mattered to me in that moment other than his lips and his hands.

  He reached one hand back and laced his fingers through my hand on his neck. Pulling my hand away from him, he stretched it over my head, fingers intertwined, his grip strong. His other hand slowly found its way under my shirt and slid across my stomach. I could feel the cuts stinging as he ran his hand ran over them. I turned my head away, breaking the kiss.

  "Wait," I whimpered.

  His hand came out from under my shirt and wiped tears off my face that I didn’t even know were falling. "Hey, hey, what is it?"

  I shook my head, not wanting to look at him. I felt weak, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Samuel pinning me down and his hands all over me. Samuel, Ryker’s father. Their touch was completely different, but I still couldn’t get those memories out of my mind.

  Ryker was gentle whereas Samuel roughly pawed at me, and cut me with a knife. I started to sit up, and Ryker moved to let me. His hand brushed the hair out of my face, and I could feel his deep gaze on me.

  I couldn’t look at him. "It’s just, I can’t stop thinking about last night. With him. I don’t want to, believe me, but I can’t help it."

  He pulled away. "My God, Edyn, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think… I'm not him though. I'm nothing like him." A touch of bitterness laced his voice.

  "That's not what I said," I replied softly.

  "It's what you think, though isn't it?" Fire raged in his eyes, and his lip curled. "I'm his son. How could I not be like him?" He stood up and walked a few feet away before turning his back on me.

  "Hey," I said as I rose and followed him. "That's not what I said, and that's not what I think. You're nothing like him."

  He spun on his heel. "How do you know? You don't even know me anymore! You don't know everything I've done." His words cut deep as he glared at me, eyes full of agony.

  "You're right, Ryker, I don’t know you anymore," I spat. "The Ryker I knew wouldn't be yelling at me like this over a bunch of bullshit while I'm trying to cope with being drugged and nearly raped." My chest was heaving as I turned to go to the bedroom.

  He grabbed my wrist in a flash and turned me towards him, then opened his mouth to say something, but he was lost for words. The mix of emotions swirling around in his vibrant blue eyes stopped my heart.

  Shit.

  "Look," I exhaled, my anger subsiding. "I'm sorry. This has just been a lot to deal with. I shouldn't take it out on you."

  Dropping his gaze to the floor he found his voice. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. You've just been through Hell, and I'm letting my personal demons attack you on top of that. I’m sorry."

  I lifted his chin. "This is a lot to process for both of us. I’m just going to need some time to get past everything that's happened. Let’s just take a breath and slow down, okay?"

  He cupped my face again and lightly brushed my bottom lip with his thumbs. "We will take all the time you need. I don’t ever, ever, want to make you feel like he did. Now, don’t cry. Come here." He pulled me against him and held me close.

  I hadn’t realized that I had started crying, but as my emotions got the better of me, I grabbed onto the back of his shirt with both fists and held on for dear life.

  * * *

  It took a few days for my ankle to feel good enough that I could walk on it, even if it was still a little sore. Ryker had stayed with me in his apartment for the most part, only leaving a few times to go get more food and some pain medicine. We talked a lot about our lives the past twenty years, but
he avoided any topics that related to his father. He was a lot more vague and wanted to hear more about my life than he was willing to share about his.

  When my body had healed enough for me to get around pretty well, Ryker asked if I would like a change of scenery. After being cooped up for several days, I couldn’t wait to get out. When we walked out of his apartment, the hallway outside was the same dimly lit corridor of roughly carved rock that Samuel’s apartment was in.

  I recoiled against Ryker a bit, and he put his arm protectively around me.

  "Don’t worry, we’re not anywhere near where he lives. I know it all looks the same, but we’re pretty far away. I had to carry you quite a way."

  I gave him a sour look. "I’m not that heavy."

  He laughed. "No, you’re not at all. I just prefer to carry you when you’re conscious."

  He led me down the hallway for a few minutes, passing dozens of doors on both sides. All of them were different, all clearly having been recycled. Some were plain, and others had chipped and peeling paint. The hallways were lit with a string of dingy bulbs hanging from the ceiling. They looked almost like Christmas lights, only bigger.

  A moment later I heard a noise ahead of us. As we drew closer, I could tell it was a number of voices. We took a right and entered a large open area with a glass ceiling above us. Set into the walls were what appeared to be a row of small shops, little alcoves that were full of different merchandise. The glow of neon seemed dim with the sunlight coming in from the ceiling, but I could tell it would light up the room like a nightclub in the dark. There was an acid green neon sign that said: "Tattoos" to the right. Next to that was a glowing pair of scissors in hot pink. I saw a clothing store and a bar farther down, and just beyond that was what looked like a small convenience store.

  "This is the Centriole," he said.

  People milled around, and some sat on benches along the walls, lost in conversation. More tunnels branched off in between the stores. As we walked, I peered into each little space. One merchant sold weapons, large silver blades glinted on a covered table, and guns were mounted on the wall behind it. A man in all black clothes was examining a machete while the merchant spoke with him.