“I was so worried,” she says. “You didn’t tell me you were going.”
“Sorry,” I murmur against her cheek. “It won’t happen again.”
She looks up, and I think she’s going to kiss me. But then she catches sight of Elijah watching us and pulls away. The brief moment of joy I felt evaporates, and the hollowness returns.
We join the others. While I tell them what we saw in the city, Giselle plucks a shiny green apple from the pile beside Elijah and polishes it with the cuff of her yellow dress.
Natalie throws her an annoyed look. “Those are for lunch.”
“So? If you want something, you should just take it.” Giselle slides a look at me, her gray eyes gleaming mischievously as she takes a bite out of the apple.
Natalie gets to her feet, wiping her hands on her dress. “I’m going for a walk.”
She pushes past me and heads to the other side of the glade. Elijah gets up and follows her.
“Was it something I said?” Giselle says innocently.
I frown, a little annoyed at Giselle for upsetting Natalie, but secretly a little pleased that Natalie’s jealous. It proves she still has some feelings for me.
We spend the rest of the day getting everything organized for tomorrow’s assault on Thrace. Just as the sun starts to set, a group of women return from the city holding piles of folded blue cloth. I run my hand over the cerulean material, which reminds me so much of Natalie’s eyes. That’s why I picked the color, not that anyone knows this.
Neptune comes over to me.
“I have news from Pandora. She’s gotten inside the station, and everything’s been set up. She’ll stay there to oversee things tomorrow.”
I nod, relieved. That was the final piece of the puzzle we had to put into place. There’s nothing more to do now except wait. Tomorrow we take back Thrace.
* * *
By the time we’re finished, night has fallen. Everyone congregates around the bonfire for dinner. The children play around the fire as if they have no worries in the world, while the adults solemnly drink glasses of spiced Shine, knowing that many of us could be dead within the next twenty-four hours. I glance at Natalie, who is sitting on the log bench with Elijah. They both just gaze at the fire, quiet and contemplative. Sensing me looking, Natalie turns her head toward me. My heart clenches.
An old man with a tattoo of a mermaid on his arm has an accordion with him, and he starts to play a folk tune, his fingers nimbly running across the keys. The children spin and dance in time with the music. Madame Clara and Giselle clap along, while a few of the men go and fetch instruments from their caravans and join the old man. One by one, people get up and dance, clearly grateful for the distraction.
Natalie smiles as she watches everyone, her blue eyes glimmering in the firelight. She looks a little better than earlier, now that she’s had time to rest. Elijah stands up and stretches a hand out to her. She hesitates, then takes it.
A familiar ache spreads through my chest at the sight of them dancing. He’s very good at it, but I guess as the Consul’s son, he has time to learn these things. They get a lot of admiring glances from the others, not just because of the ease with which they move, but because they look good together. Great, in fact. He twirls Natalie around, and she throws her head back and laughs, a sound I haven’t heard since her birthday. The night I proposed.
A new tune begins, led by the drums. The music fills the night sky with its animalistic beat. Nearby, Giselle spins and swirls in time to the rhythm, her yellow dress and red hair fanning around her until she looks like the flames of the bonfire. She catches my eye, and a smirk plays across her lips. She provocatively beckons me toward her. I look jealously at Natalie and Elijah.
Two can play this game.
I walk over to Giselle and take her in my arms, dancing with her to the exotic music, our bodies swaying in unison. I cup a hand around her waist, pulling her hard against me. She lets out a small gasp, her silvery eyes sparkling mischievously.
I look at Natalie. She frowns, her eyes fixed on me as Elijah twirls her around in circles.
The music deepens into something slower, more sensual. Giselle’s fingers lace through my hair, causing a sensory overload as she grinds against me. Her lips are so close to mine. All it will take is one misstep, and we’ll kiss. Giselle’s cheeks flush; her eyes dilate. I’ve seen the same reaction from Hazers after a hit. Lust. Fragg, it feels good to be wanted.
My hand runs down Giselle’s back, toward the curve at the end of her spine, but all the time my focus is on Natalie. Anger flits across her face, and she wraps her arms around Elijah’s neck. He moans, pulling her closer to him. In retaliation, I dip Giselle, lightly running my hand down her voluptuous body. She shivers with delight, her lips parting. I pick her up and whirl her around in time to the music. She lets out a joyful laugh of delight, her eyes glimmering. Her intent is clear, and I’m tempted, even if it is just to make Natalie suffer for the way she’s hurt me.
Elijah holds Natalie close, his hands caressing her body, his face pressed against hers, his eyes closed. He looks lost, enraptured. In love. Pain rips through me. It’s too much. I release Giselle, defeated, and storm away from the dance floor, away from Natalie.
I head straight for my caravan, my whole body shaking with anger. I sink down on the bed, my chest heaving. I think I’m dying, unable to breathe.
“Are you okay?” Giselle says quietly from the doorway.
“She’s leaving me for him,” I admit, my voice splintering. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You can’t control her heart, Ash.”
“I know,” I say. “But I can’t control mine either, and I love her so much, it’s killing me.”
Giselle pads over to the bed and hugs me. Her body is soft, warm, inviting. She smells of rose water.
“I want her back,” I whisper.
“There’s still a chance,” Giselle replies. “You just need to remind her why she fell in love with you. In the meantime—” She presses her lips against mine. Her kiss is fire, burning hot, exciting, teasing. She pulls away. “You’re a catch, Ash. If she doesn’t see that, then she’s a fool.”
She winks at me, leaving the caravan. The door swings shut behind her, but not before I catch a glimpse of Natalie running into the forest.
32.
NATALIE
“NATALIE, WAIT!”
I slow down so Elijah can catch up with me. He’s carrying a small oil lantern, the light bouncing as he runs. My pulse is racing, my head pounding. Everything is spinning; sky, trees and earth all blend into each other. My knees buckle, and Elijah grabs me before I fall.
“He kissed her,” I manage to say as the tears start to fall.
“I know,” Elijah replies quietly. “I saw it too.”
“Why did he do it?”
“Because he’s in pain. He thinks you have feelings for me.” He tilts my face up, and his eyes search mine. “Do you?”
I flush. “Elijah, I—”
Before I can finish my sentence, Elijah leans down and touches his lips to mine. His kiss is confident but tender, his lips soft, sumptuous. He tastes like honey—sweet, delicious. His tongue slips between my lips and lightly caresses my mouth, his touch gentle and inquisitive. A breathy moan forms in my throat, and I part my lips further, allowing him to fully explore me. My fingers twist through his fur-like hair, and I press my body against his, needing the comfort.
The echo of a second heartbeat flutters inside my chest. Ash, it’s saying. Ash, Ash, Ash. What am I doing? I break off the kiss and bury my face in my hands, feeling so confused. Eventually, I glance up. Elijah looks at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.
“I can’t . . . I don’t feel . . . Elijah, I’m so sorry,” I say.
The dappled moonlight shimmers across his skin, the gentle breeze ruffling his chocolate-brown
mane. In another time, another world, I could possibly fall for him. But that’s not the reality I live in. There’s only room for one boy in my heart and soul, and that’s Ash.
A muscle flexes in his square jaw. “It’s okay, Natalie. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try.”
There’s a snap of twigs, and a moment later, Ash and Giselle emerge from the darkness, stopping a few feet away from us. There’s a challenging look in Ash’s sparkling eyes as he waits for me to confront him. He knows I saw the kiss with Giselle. Did he see mine with Elijah? We’re in an emotional standoff, everyone hurting, everyone betrayed, all of us wanting someone we can’t have. And it’s my fault.
This needs to end now.
I unhook the gold chain from my neck and slide off the engagement ring. It glitters in the starlight. It represents everything I want and everything I can never have. Not anymore. I walk over to Ash and drop it into his hand. He studies the diamond ring resting on his open palm, and a mixture of emotions flits across his face: bewilderment, anger, grief.
Finally his fingers close around the ring.
It’s over.
“I’m going for walk,” I say flatly.
Elijah joins me. We’ve barely gone a hundred feet before I hear Ash howl.
* * *
The walk through the forest is one of the loneliest of my life, even though Elijah is by my side. He holds the oil lantern, lighting our way. My whole body is numb, and I welcome it. I don’t want to feel, because I know that as soon as I get over the shock of what I’ve done, I’m going to break into a million pieces.
It’s no good, though. The cracks inside me splinter with every footstep, until I finally shatter. I crumple to the earth. Strong arms hold me as I rock back and forth, letting out a low-pitched wail. What have I done? “It was the right thing to do,” Elijah whispers to me. “At least now he can let you go.”
He holds me for a long time, maybe an hour, maybe two, until we both begin to shiver from the chilled night air. I rub my puffy, tearstained eyes and suck in a shaky breath.
“So what will you do now?” he asks gently.
“I’m going to head to Centrum to meet with the others, then find my mother,” I tell Elijah.
I’ve been thinking about her a lot recently. I’ve had this aching need to see her, to be comforted by her, to die in her arms. But I don’t even know where she is. She could be dead, for all I know, although I suspect if she were, Purian Rose would’ve splashed that all over SBN news.
“You can’t go now. What about the rebellion?” Elijah asks.
“The rebellion doesn’t need me.”
“I need you,” he replies.
My heart constricts. “Please don’t say that.”
I get up and Elijah springs to his feet. The Rainbow Forest is at the top of a steep hill, so we get a wonderful view of the city as we come down the grassy slopes. Thousands of solar panels glint in the moonlight, so the rooftops look like the stars above us. Even at night, the Mirror City lives up to its reputation.
The effect is slightly ruined by the Destroyer Ships hovering overhead, their searchlights scanning the dark streets. A light scans past the buildings on the rim of the city, illuminating their glassy roofs, and something catches my eye. I stop and blink, uncertain whether what I’m seeing is real or a figment of my imagination.
“Elijah, do you see it?”
“See what?” he asks.
I wait until the light passes the buildings again.
“There!” I say, pointing to a building with a star-shaped roof that tapers up into a steeple. At the top of the spire is a glimmering solar panel cut into the shape of a crescent moon.
“The Moon Star?” Elijah says, grinning.
I grab his hand. “Only one way to find out.”
33.
NATALIE
IT TAKES ABOUT AN HOUR to reach the point in the city where I think the Moon Star should be. We cling to the shadows, ducking between buildings as Sentry guards march by on their evening patrols. Thankfully most of the lights are off in the buildings, so apart from the occasional sweep of the searchlights, we’re covered by darkness. The streets are also empty, since many of the citizens have already left, having earned an Evacuation Pass. Those who remain stay indoors, hiding.
Overhead, the Destroyer Ships continue to hum, making the air vibrate. Once in a while, a Transporter streaks past, flying so low, it makes my hair whip around my face. It was risky coming down here, and I’m starting to regret it, but there’s no turning back now.
I glance at Elijah and see a light in his topaz eyes that hasn’t been there before. Hope. We wait for a platoon of guards to walk past before running across the street to the next alleyway. We dart between the buildings, using the narrow side alleys as much as possible to keep away from the Sentry guards. The coins on my dress jangle as I run, drawing more attention than I’d like.
“Wait,” I say, stopping to rip the coins off the skirt. They roll into the gutter.
Elijah glances over his shoulder suddenly and looks across the street.
“What is it?” I whisper.
He narrows his eyes, then shakes his head. “Nothing. I thought I saw someone, but there’s no one there.” We don’t hang around, in case someone is following us. We weave through the warren of side streets, heading deeper into the city.
“I think the tavern’s around here somewhere,” I say, scanning the skyline, in search of the crescent moon–shaped solar panel. I spot it peeping between the rooftops at the end of the road. “There!”
Like all the other taverns in the area, the Moon Star’s shutters are drawn, the lights off. It’s impossible to tell if anyone is inside. I try the handle on the ebony door. It’s locked. We circle the building, looking for another way in. Elijah pushes a trash can aside to reveal a trapdoor leading into the storage cellar. He yanks on the handle. To my relief, the trapdoor opens.
We hurry down a flight of creaky wooden steps into the basement, closing the trapdoor behind us. The storage room is damp and musty, filled with crates and wine racks. To our left is a steel service door, similar to the one at Madame Clara’s, while up ahead is the stairwell leading into the main bar. We pick our way through the clutter, trying our best not to hit anything, but Elijah’s tail accidentally sweeps past a wine rack, knocking a bottle onto the floor. It smashes.
“Sorry,” Elijah says.
“Do you think anyone’s home?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It is very quiet,” he says, frowning.
I follow him up the stairs into the bar. We’re immediately greeted by two rifle blasts, which miss us by an inch. Elijah and I both hit the floor, covering our heads.
“Who are you?” a woman’s voice says.
I risk a look up at our assailant, catching snapshots of her along the way: a pair of scuffed brown boots, patchwork leather pants, a blue corset blouse, a rifle. She’s sitting in a wheelchair. My eyes finally rest on her face. There’s no doubting the middle- aged woman looking coldly back at me is Esme.
“I’m Natalie Buchanan, and this is Elijah Theroux,” I say. “I believe you know his mother, Yolanda?”
Esme lowers her gun. “What are you doing here?”
We get to our feet, and Elijah briefly explains about Lucinda’s letter, and our search for Yolanda and Lucinda.
Esme rests the shotgun on her lap, grabs a bottle of spiced Shine and some glasses and wheels over to one of the round tables. We join her at the table, putting the oil lantern between us.
“Were Lucinda and Yolanda here?” I ask.
“Yeah, they were here.” Esme pours us all a drink. “Lucinda was on one of her mad rants, claiming she’d worked out a way to bring down Purian Rose, and needed Yolanda and Kieran’s help.”
“Kieran’s your partner, right?” I say.
She nods. “I begged him no
t to get involved. Lucinda’s a bit—” Esme taps her head. “You know? Especially after Niall died.”
I remember Sigur telling us about Lucinda and her Blood Mate, Niall, and how he died during their attack on the Black City water plant. I wonder if my father pulled the trigger.
“Kieran didn’t listen to me, but when it comes to Lucinda he never does. They go way back. The three of them went off on their mission, and left me here to tend the bar,” Esme says bitterly, taking a gulp of her drink. “I would’ve slowed them down anyway.”
She frowns, and I’m guessing it wasn’t her choice to stay.
A sound of footsteps outside the tavern draws our attention. Esme reaches for her gun, while we silently wait for the guards to move on. The footsteps fade as they turn down another street.
“Where are Lucinda and the others now?” I ask, once they’ve gone.
“I don’t know,” Esme says. “They were heading to the Claw—”
“The what?”
“It’s a mountain,” Esme explains.
I glance at Elijah, and his expression mirrors my own surprise. The Ora’s located on a mountain? But then thinking about it some more, it’s a good location for a rebel laboratory that’s storing weaponized yellowpox. It’s remote and unpopulated.
Esme looks down at her glass of spiced Shine. “The last time Kieran called, he said they’d reached Gray Wolf—”
“That’s in the Mountain Wolf State, isn’t it?” Elijah asks.
Esme nods. “But I haven’t heard from him since. That was nearly a week ago.”
“That’s around the last time my mom called me,” Elijah says.
He sinks his head into his hands, letting out a pained groan. Esme’s just confirmed our fears—that his mother and Lucinda have been captured, and by the sounds of it, Kieran too. Esme knocks back her drink, and pours herself another. I notice her hand is trembling. She must’ve reached the same conclusion as us.
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