by Kayla Krantz
“Do you know somebody named Cody?” Amy asked, pinching the back of her arm in anticipation of his response.
He went rigid instantly. “Not personally, but I’ve heard of him.”
Amy bobbed her head. Before going to the compound with Luna, that had been Amy’s extent of knowledge as well. “He was the one.”
Max’s face scrunched as if he had eaten something sour. “Things are…worse than we thought,” he said. “You need to go. Find Cassandra and find her quickly. I hate to say this, really hate to say this, but I almost feel bad for Luna. If you’re right about her not being in control of her life, things are about to be so much worse for her.”
Chapter Forty-One
UNTIL LUNA WOKE up, Chance sat in silence with Cody. The man had refused to tell him what favor could be expected of him, only that he would know when the time came to cash it in. Chance hated the way that sounded. It made it seem like Cody—like the Compound—had a plan while Chance did not.
He couldn’t imagine why Cody would even want his help at this point, and he had the sickening thought that somehow, someway, it all tied to Asher. Cody said nothing else while they waited—just sat at the table with a small smirk on his face, doing it for no reason other than to get under Chance’s skin.
Growling in his throat, Chance stood up and left the room, promising to check on Luna just to see if she was awake yet. He watched her from the doorway, studying the beautiful curve of her lips and the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. Just looking at her made his heart surge with something though it was all too easy for it to fall again with Cody’s words in his head.
She had betrayed him…or at least tried to. The thought bothered him, but he didn’t know why—he should’ve expected as much from her. As he studied her, his eyes fell to her ring and that sadness sharpened into the same desperation that always clung to thoughts of her. No matter what, their lives would always be tied together—too much had happened for them not to be.
That was the thought in his head as he went to rouse her from sleep. Not only was she connected to him, she was connected to Cody and Reese too. The intricacies of the web that was Chance’s life enfolded her, and she would always, always be trapped.
***
LUNA’S HEAD FELT as if it were on the verge of splitting open when she came back to consciousness. She shuffled a bit, trying to get comfortable, when a breeze chilled her. Her eyes stretched wide open as she realized she was naked. Luna shot up, gathering the blanket around her as she did so.
For what seemed like an endless amount of time, Luna lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Violet and Kate and Amanda. There was something chilling about the thought that even after dying, she could die again. It was the Schrodinger’s cat of thoughts—she both wanted it and didn’t want it at the same time. Luna tried to envision a place of peace, of redemption, and hoped that that was what lie beyond this existence, this purgatory. She hoped that was the place Sarah had disappeared to, that Amanda would find her way to. Kate had been a nasty person, but after everything Chance had done to her, Luna wouldn’t say the blame fell entirely on her, and for that reason alone, she thought the girl deserved to go to the same place of peace that the others would go to. When Luna thought of Amanda, her bottom lip trembled, and she thought she would lose what little bit of herself she had managed to retain. Out of the three of them, Amanda was the most innocent.
Luna ran her hand across her cheek and felt fingers trail the top of her arm. Freezing, she peered over the divide that her arm offered, unsure of what would come next. She was used to waking up to Chance’s eyes on her. What was she was not used to—and didn’t care for—was the set of green eyes which were also on her. Cody hovered in the doorway, watching her every movement. She could guess that he didn’t want to waste a second of time he wouldn’t have to in healing his Elder.
Groaning, Luna sat up and rubbed her eyes, remembering her life and the odd situation she had found herself in. Chance sat on the bed beside her, staring at her, but without saying a word. For once, he kept his hands to himself, and although she was grateful, she was also suspicious. On instinct, her eyes moved over to Cody, but he didn’t look back at her. He watched Chance.
“What happened?” Luna asked, gathering the blankets in an even thicker layer over herself. The way their eyes avoided meeting her own made the moment far more awkward than it had to be.
“You needed to get some rest,” Chance said, voice void of emotion. “How do you feel?” he tacked on as he stood up to grab a random outfit out of the nearby drawers. It was a black t-shirt—his—and a thin pair of red leggings.
“Um,” she said, running a hand across her eyes and mouth. She didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t try more than that. She took the clothes from Chance gratefully, pulling the t-shirt over her head. Usually, she would’ve been shy at the thought of dressing around strangers, but today it didn’t seem to matter. She could feel nothing inside and outside, just the sting of her recent cuts.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” Chance said, setting his hand on her knee over the blanket.
She looked down at it, at the way his fingers so carelessly stroked her, and shivered. She wasn’t comfortable with the idea of intimacy between the two of them and doubted with everything in her that she ever would be. Pulling on the leggings, she was glad for the excuse to bend her knee and remove his hand. Chance said nothing as he watched her, and when she at last cast the blanket aside, he studied her.
“Ready?” Chance asked, holding out his hand.
She didn’t take it as she stood up. Sighing, Chance tried to lead her to the door when she halted, digging her heels into the dirt.
“I should clean up first,” she argued.
Chance held her steady, and she guessed that he knew what she really wanted—to see herself, to see the scars that Kate had left across her face and neck.
“I’ll get you clothes from the compound,” Cody said, and she stared at him.
She didn’t want to wear one of his cult uniforms, but she also hadn’t wanted to wear one of Chance’s sacrificial gowns, but she had done it and survived. It’s just clothes, she told herself as she gave in and walked into the hall, Cody a step ahead and Chance a step behind. Though they didn’t look at her, the way they walked with her was enough. She was uncomfortable, and she was sure it showed in every inch of her frame.
They made it outside of the cabin before Cody stopped and turned to look at Luna then Chance. Her eyes were wide as she looked back at him, not sure what to expect next. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a tiny purple crystal that he showed to them both.
“We don’t have any time to waste,” he said as way of explanation and grasped Chance’s hand.
Chance grabbed Luna’s, and when Cody extended his hand to her, the one with the crystal, she hesitated. Chance gave her an encouraging squeeze, but Cody was not so gentle. He thrust his hand toward her, eyes narrowed in a way that made her less keen to argue. She reached out her free hand and cupped his, feeling the smooth surface of the gem beneath her fingers.
Cody gave her a satisfied nod before he bowed his head, whispering words that sounded between a mix of English, Latin, and French. She glanced at Chance, but there was no emotion in his eyes as he looked back at her. She blinked, and the next thing she knew, they were standing in the strange expanse of empty land that surrounded Cody’s compound.
She had only been there once, with Amy, in an attempt to break the bond created by the Rosebone, and now that she was there again, she couldn’t help but glance at Chance. He was stiff as they followed Cody into the building, and she had the sinking feeling once again that he knew what she had done…or what she had tried to do.
So why wasn’t he saying as much?
Luna continued to watch him from the corner of her eye, and when they went inside, she did it more frequently, convinced she would be able to read his thoughts on his face. Luna recognized the bend in the hall before
Cody disappeared into a room and came back with a black robe for Luna and Chance. Chance didn’t hesitate pulling the fabric on and when the dark hood came to rest over his head, Luna shivered with familiarity. It reminded her too much of the original dreams, the time before she knew the truth about what Chance really was. The robe fit him so well that Luna wondered if it had been his to begin with.
Luna pulled hers into place, only doing so to hide her reaction from the two men watching her like a hawk. She pulled the front closed, hiding her bedclothes in swathes of black fabric, and looked up at Cody. He nodded his approval and continued to lead the way down the hall.
“He’s in here,” Cody said finally taking them into a room.
Luna and Chance were right behind him, but before he took more than one step inside, he stopped again, staring Luna so intensely in the eyes that she considered pulling up her hood just to break the connection.
“Best behavior,” he told her.
He didn’t need to say more than that—she knew why. The people in this place were powerful. Every single one. If she did a thing that upset any of them, she’d have another situation on her hands not unlike the ones she had already survived with Chance. At that moment, Chance reached out to her, grabbing her hand as if he had had the same thought.
In the room, there were a handful of people cloaked in the robes, hoods pulled up and white masks over the faces so it was impossible to tell who was who. At Cody’s arrival, they parted to reveal a bed in the middle of them all. It reminded Luna of a chaise lounge with purple cushions and a black and red blanket. There was an elderly man lying on it. Although she would expect someone who’s sick to dress down, to wear something loose and comfortable, this man did not.
He was cloaked in elegant robes adorned with gems of ruby and citrine. The folds of the robe came all the way up to his neck even though Luna could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead. Luna could feel the eyes of everyone in the circle on her, but she continued to stare at him, waiting to see if he would move.
She prayed they were already too late to do a thing to help.
Cody was the first to reach the man, and when he did, the elderly man’s head turned toward Luna and Chance. He said nothing to Chance, ice blue eyes staring at him in a way that showed both recognition and disdain, before he turned that chilling gaze to Luna. Transfixed, she stared back at him.
“This is the girl?” the man asked at last and if the question was directed at Cody or Chance, Luna couldn’t say for sure.
“Yes, this is her,” Cody said, and she felt his hand in the small of her back as he pushed her forward like he was offering meat to a lion.
Without wanting to, she rested against the man’s bedside. From the angle, she could smell his sickness, the sickly-sweet smell of death, and looked at Cody, wondering what he thought she could do.
“Let’s get on it…” the man said and began to cough in loud choking sounds that bounced around the room.
Luna winced. Everything pointed to the fact that it might just be too late to save him. He was old, and he was sick. Luna doubted she could do anything to fix that.
“Go on,” Cody said, coming up behind her.
Chest rested to her back, he reached around either side of Luna to grab her arms and set them on the man’s abdomen. Reflexively, she tried to break out of his grip, but Cody held strong. A flash of panic flowed through her, and she tried to look at Chance, to see if he would help, but he was staring at the ground, hood covering his eyes.
Then she was positive that he knew what she had done, and this was his idea of payback. He would stand by and watch, no matter what Cody decided to do, and she would be at his mercy. She gave in at the thought, relaxing against Cody and letting him put her wherever she needed to be. Luna’s fingers rested on the chest of the exquisite robe, the silky fabrics soft to the touch. Tilting her head subtly, she whispered to Cody, “What do I do?”
“Imagine your power flowing out of you and into him. Imagine it blotting out all the dark spots in his aura, and cleansing him before coming back to you lighter than it went in.”
Luna pursed her lips dubiously. In her opinion, if any magic went into this man, it would come out blacker for the effort because of who he was, because of what he believed in, because of the things he had done, but she realized there would be no benefit to arguing. Not anymore. Closing her eyes, and pretending she was anywhere else, she did as Cody suggested, breathing out a long deep sigh of air.
As she did, she felt Cody let go of her and back away, for which she was grateful, and continued her peaceful breathing. Even imagining her energy flowing into the man didn’t work, and she wondered if it was possible that she didn’t have her powers anymore. She wondered if the Voice—Morpheus—had been so disappointed in her that he had taken away all her powers.
She wondered if that was possible.
Then, like a leak in a dam, she felt the trickle of energy pass into him. He must’ve felt it as well because he turned to look at her, eyes narrowed with hope, but just as soon as it began it stopped. Her skin prickled like a thousand needles were being shoved through her pores and she yelped, collapsing to her knees and breaking the contact.
Chance was at her side a moment later, hand on her elbow. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It hurts.”
Chance’s grip on her tightened as he pulled her away, looking up at Cody through eyes filled with silent accusation.
“She’s not strong enough,” is all Cody said.
Then Luna’s world went black.
Chapter Forty-Two
UTILIZING ALL THE knowledge she had gathered from Max, Amy set out on her trip back to Cairo. She managed to land herself in almost the same spot the two of them had landed in together, but this time, the scenery struck her. It was almost nighttime, a thousand city lights twinkling in the sky around her, making it just as bright as if it were daytime.
She shivered, suddenly aware of her loneliness and looked down at the map. It shone under the lights, a glint of silver on the black ink every now and then. Even though she had the directions in her hand, she couldn’t force herself to move. There was a lot depending on this, on her, and she didn’t know how to handle this. Doubt crept in, making her wonder if maybe Max would’ve been better for this mission after all.
You don’t want to scare Cassandra, she reminded herself, and that was what Max’s presence would’ve done, if for no other reason than his size.
Swallowing and hoisting up her big girl panties, she began on her way. This route took her in the opposite direction than her and Max gone during their initial trip. That made sense. Cassandra had been trying to escape—of course she would flee as far as she could in the opposite direction of what she had been running from.
That struck Amy. What had she been running from?
In the picture with Rose’s friend, Cassandra had been young, sure, but she had looked happy, content. What could’ve caused such a happy child to run away?
Step after step, Amy followed the trail, the line blinking silver again, and that was when she realized the dab of color wasn’t a trick of the light, it was an indication of her location. The thought chilled her—what if she wasn’t the only one who could see the map? What if someone else was following her, using this same piece of paper to plan her downfall?
Amy shook her head, trying to dislodge her paranoia, but the harder she fought, the deeper it sunk in its claws. She started to see threats in all the faces of the people who passed through her, people who had no idea she even existed. By the end of the minute, she was full on sprinting through the streets, only slowing down when the buildings began to disappear and tombs appeared all around her.
Heart thudding, she stopped, looking back at the normalcy of the city. Before her, the graves stretched onward, and she had the sinking fear that Cassandra was dead, just as they had first believed. Then she noticed someone emerge from one of the tombs, a man in his middle age, and a horrifying thought overcame her—
the tombs and mausoleums had been renovated into houses.
People lived in them.
“Where am I?” she whispered to herself.
The man didn’t notice she was there, but she forced herself to continue onward, convinced he would see her if she didn’t even though it wasn’t true. Amy reached up to her neck, where at one time she had worn a tiny cross her grandmother had given her but came up empty. It had been years since she had worn it, but this place made her wish she had never taken it off. As she moved, she studied her surroundings, noting that the grave-homes were spaced equally far apart, and from what she could tell some of them housed entire families.
Talk about the slums, she thought, remembering the home Rose’s friend had stayed in. At the very least, that had been an actual building.
The route before her curved, taking her through a strip of more eerie grave homes before at last, the trail ended. It was a tiny grave at the end, and from the distance, Amy couldn’t see the features that made it homey until she was closer. She didn’t know which looked worse—the flimsy wood of the front door or the crumbling outside of the restructured tomb.
She approached, studying every detail with the thought that at least for everything she had gone through, she had never had to live in a cemetery. As she stared at the flimsy door, she wondered what her best course of action would be. Should she knock? Or just go inside? If Cassandra had some sense of her magic, she would be able to see Amy.
That thought made the idea of barging inside seem suddenly rude so she followed her gut and knocked, worried her knuckles would punch right through the door on accident. After a second, the door remained closed so Amy took a deep breath and opened the door. It was light inside, and Amy marveled at the idea of electricity, but she couldn’t focus on the thought for long before a voice cut across the space.
“How dare you enter my home?” a woman snarled in a heavy accent.