Midnight Dawn

by Jocelyn Adams

  She backed up, wiping tears from her cheeks. The fear had left her features, so I dropped the subject to let her deal with it on her own. We all had hard choices to make, but I wouldn’t force anyone. Somehow I knew that wasn’t how it worked.

  I exited into the hallway. Considering the two bedrooms I was sure lay behind two of the closed doors, and the tightness that left my shoulders as I stood there, I said, “I think you and I should move in here. After I clean up Izan’s mess, we should explore outside. Maybe this can be the new facility if there are other buildings around here we could use.”

  “Move in, as in stay here, to sleep and eat and everything?” She grinned.

  “Yeah. It’ll be our place.” While Sophia went off about paint colors and fabrics for the furniture and the entertainment room Kyle and Remy could build for us, I led the way to the kitchen. We’d wasted enough time. I needed to see what was on those pages.

  Chapter Twenty

  Within the hour, we had all of the pages free of their artifacts. The only object we managed to save was the sarcophagus, and even it had several gouges out of it. We’d had to unravel half of the tapestry after cutting the rudimentary stitching along the side, and we’d had to smash the jar—which pissed me off after having gone to the trouble of carrying the thing through the museum.

  When I’d normally have felt like barfing over damaging priceless objects, I didn’t feel anything. Maybe because of what Baku had said about Izan planting alien objects to influence our cultural evolution. Ugh. I’d shoved that impending confrontation out of my mind, but I couldn’t put it off much longer. I needed to know what that had to do with Baku showing up on Earth every century for the last thousand years.

  At least it seemed as if I’d found my emotional off-switch like Asher had. Too bad it hadn’t dulled the pull of the still-missing pages. Pain throbbed between my eyes, and the need to find them grew worse with every passing second.

  Leaving the mess in the library, Sophia and I returned to the gray nowhere of the facility. Once in my room, I grabbed the bible from my nightstand, and the last of the four pages I’d brought home earlier in my pocket, and sat down on the bed. Holding one of the yellowing pages written in tea-colored ink we’d found, I held the ragged edge against the stumps along the spine of the book where it had been ripped out. The paper reattached like magic.

  Once I’d put in all of the pages, I picked up the tome in both hands. Something flashed behind my eyes, as if every color in inexistence hit me simultaneously. A riot of emotions hit me for only a second before dissipating, and I dropped the book onto the covers. “Shit.”

  “What’s wrong?” Sophia sat down beside me.

  “I don’t know, but I’m really starting to believe that this is far more than just a book. It’s almost like it wants to show me something, but it can’t yet.” Excitement and urgency grew in me. “That’s why we need the pages. Not to read them, but because this book is like its own little Mortal Machine that needs all of its parts in place before it’ll work like Izan wants it to.” It held answers, and I needed them fast. What would it show me? Everything, I hoped.

  Leaving the book on my blanket, I flipped through the pages in case they told us something we hadn’t already figured out. “All of the pages but one are in the section about rank,” I said. “And the title at the bottom of the last page we just found mentions the Shepherd, which comes right before the Architect. I guess that confirms what Caine said, that the Shepherd and I are a matched set.”

  Sophia set her hand on mine, her delicate features weighed down by whatever thoughts marched through her colorful head.

  Was Caine my Shepherd? He said I could choose, but it had to be someone who could act as my conduit, right? He seemed willing to choose me back, but… Ignoring the pain in my gut, I handed the book to Sophia, trying to ignore the vibrations rushing out of the old leather cover and into my arms. “What do you notice is missing in the list of ranks and positions?” I rubbed the ache in my head. “God, it’s getting worse.”

  “You look like hell, no offense. I don’t think you’re going to be able to wait much longer before you go back out. Are you really going to take that stranger with you to hunt?” She passed the backs of her fingers over my forehead, her touch gentle, her power quiet and barely there. “I’m not sure if some acetaminophen would help, but you should take a couple after we’re done here.”

  Part of me wanted to throw my arms around her, but I had to stop being a sissy and be strong.

  Like Kat. I cringed internally. “Yeah, I’m really going to take him, and I’ll leave Asher behind.”

  “Huh? How can you take Caine and not him? He cares about you, Addison, even if—”

  “No, he doesn’t. Now drop it.”

  She recoiled, crossing her legs on the bed and drawing the book into her lap, appearing tiny beneath it. Another round of guilt tromped through me.

  After flipping through the pages the first time, she went back and did it again in a hurry. “Not only is there no Colonel, but there are no soldiers, either. Only sentinels with different abilities, all equal in rank, except for the Architect.”

  “And possibly this Shepherd person.”

  “Does that mean…am I…?” She shook her head, clapping the book shut. “No, I’m no sentinel. And what about the eyes? Why are mine dull while Remy’s are bright? It doesn’t say anything about our eyes reflecting our inner power.”

  I came to my feet, once again fighting the sense of urgency to follow the pages. “I don’t know yet, but I have a feeling you’ll find your own answers if you’d try sharing power with Remy. Your two pieces fit together like bread and honey. I won’t believe he hurt you during your induction, so what scared you so much?”

  She held a pillow to her chest, her face hidden up to her eyes, groaning into the fluff and puff. “You’re going to think I’m a total whore,” she said, “but I’m not like that.”

  Well, color me intrigued. “I would never think that about you, but why would you say that? Did you…you know…with Remy on the altar or something? Because I remember how intense that connection was, so I totally get it if you did. You’re not going to get any judgment from me.” I clamped down on the blotchy memories of that night when Asher’s soul had been inside of me in the chamber, icing the thoughts over with my newfound control.

  Frantic laughter burst out of her. She sat up, still strangling the pillow in her arms. “God, no, but… While he was doing his tasting of my soul during my induction, I totally…sort of…came.”

  “Oh.” I plopped down beside her. “You mean, you had an orgasm? Because that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” After thinking it through, I added, “Okay, I’d have been totally mortified if it happened to me, so I get that.”

  “So you see why I can’t touch Remy like that again. He had to have felt when I went off like a bomb, because his soul was pretty much completely inside me at that point. He has to think I’m a total slut. I was only eighteen, and as far as I know, it was the only time I’ve ever….”

  “He does not think that about you. And I don’t even think that’s why you’re so afraid, but because touch in your past has always translated to pain.”

  “The one you said hurt me. I dream of him.” She clamped her arms tighter around the pillow, her arms trembling. “He has big hands.”

  “Like Remy,” I finished for her. “And when he reaches for you, your body remembers the hurt.” Pulling her stiff form closer, I wrapped my arm around her. “Remy isn’t the one who hurt you. If you could see the way he is around you, you’d know he adores you.”

  “Logic and phobia aren’t exactly friends,” she said. “If you tell me a spider can only crawl on me, I’ll still run away screaming every time. All I know is that whenever he comes too close, all I can think about is finding a place to hide. I’ve been trying to touch him through clothes more when I’ve been dressing him up to hunt, and he’s been really sweet, staying still so he won’t scare me. But skin contac
t? I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to do that with him.”

  “He said as long as you’re willing, he’d like to try. It’s just a touch, finger-to-finger while you mingle your energy, would do it to see if I’m right. In private, of course, or I can be nearby if you want. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

  She groaned and tossed the pillow aside. “What if nothing happens? Or worse, what if I go all porn star on him again, and he goes back to ignoring me? This is stupid. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get close to him, but I can’t stomach the thought of letting him go, either.”

  “Just to play devil’s advocate, what if doing this changes everything for the better? What if you finally become who you’re supposed to be, happy and whole? I want you to be happy.” Even if I can’t.

  Why couldn’t I? My happiness was not tied to Asher.

  A glimmer of hope replaced the fear in her eyes. She gave a weak smile. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  “Good, but remember time is in short supply. Sorry, but that’s a fact. Now, I have to go and figure out who Iris’s conduit is, and convince Kyle to use Sampson without scaring him away. This is going to be fun.” I’d meant to make a joke, but the glass in the words turned it into angry sarcasm.

  “What about you and Asher?” she asked as I got up and grabbed for the knob. “What’s it like when you touch him? Have you ever…you know…when he touched you?”

  My idiot brain wanted to relive the moment we’d had in the car earlier, but I shut it down. “It’s different with us,” I said. “He’s just a warm body, no Machine zing at all.” I held my breath when my voice started to crack. “Maybe Caine is my Shepherd.”

  “Oh.” She sounded completely disillusioned, but I didn’t stick around to find out why. Things to do, people to piss off, a psycho dragon mantis to open a can of whoop-ass on. Just a day in the life of Addison Whatshername.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I found Iris downing a pond-scum-green protein shake in the common room, her purple hair tucked behind her ear, showing me the sharp angles of her face. “Hey,” I said, sitting on the bench across from her, “you’re looking a little perkier than before.” How had she recovered so fast? It couldn’t have been the shake alone, could it? Maybe I needed to have another. “You did good back at the museum.”

  Grinning, she gave a dip of her head.

  “I need your help again. Do you happen to know anyone who can act as your conduit? Maybe someone you’ve touched while powered up, who makes crazy things happen in your body and with your tattoos?”

  She grinned wider.

  Sweet deal, she did. After upending her glass and gulping down the shake, she returned the tumbler to the kitchen and gave me a come-hither finger on her way to the exit. Eagerness seemed to ripple through her, and I could have sworn her eyes had brightened since the last time I’d seen them peeking out through her hair. Like mine had after I fought Marcus. Like Asher’s. But what did it all mean?

  She opened every door along the gray corridor with a zap of energy but didn’t even stick her head in. Maybe Caine had been right about her fear of confined spaces. One room held bolts of fabric and sewing machines—where Sophia worked her magic, obviously. The last, once opened, slapped me in the face with the stench of chlorine.

  “Wait, we have a pool?” I asked.

  She shrugged, slipping inside as Raldad climbed up the steps and out of the Olympic-size pool. The sentinel’s dark skin contrasted sharply with the white tiles, and water poured off his muscular frame and light blue trunks. He turned his brilliant jade-star eyes on me, and then on Iris. He shook his head as she approached, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, or to make his body move even though his muscles bunched up under his skin.

  Bingo. I flashed a smile that didn’t feel particularly polite. “Be dressed to hunt and meet me in the common room in fifteen minutes.”

  Without waiting for a response, I marched off to the closet to change. I was feeling aggressive, and for once I wanted to look the part.

  Five minutes later, I stood in the wardrobe room dressed in breathable black leather pants, low-heeled black calf-high boots, and a clingy violet tank to match my eyes. I’d drawn my hair up into a high ponytail.

  I couldn’t procrastinate my conversation with Izan for another second, so I went to the mirror where Sophia usually made me up and stood there for a while. In my numb state, my heart didn’t pound like it might have any other day. “Izan,” I said. “In my head. Now.”

  That squeezed sensation in my brain let me know he’d answered my call. How could he hear me from wherever his energy or whatever existed?

  The Aztec boy with raven-black hair that floated around his head appeared in the reflection, but he stared off at something to my left. Or maybe he was avoiding my gaze. Guilty?

  “Since you’re in my head,” I said, “I won’t bother asking my questions. You know what Baku told me about the artifacts, and what Caine told us about the king’s centennial slaughter of the Machine. So first of all, a simple yes or no will do. Is it all true?”

  A shift of Izan’s feet sent his hair dancing, and he finally looked at me. The discomfort in him tightened my stomach another twist. “A simple answer will not help you understand this.”

  I slipped a little further into the abyss. “So yes, then. I’m out of patience today, so give me the bullet points. If I don’t like what I hear, I’m going to march my butt out of here and leave this mess for you to clean up yourself, and if the pages crush my brain while I’m lazing around, then so be it.”

  “You must not do that,” he said with urgency. “You are key.”

  “Key to what?”

  He sighed and wrung his hands together. “Long before I came into being, my ancestors created hundreds of worlds that existed in one grand universe for a study of evolution, including yours. Slightly different planets were seeded with similar potential for life. Centuries went by, and the worlds developed at different paces. Some with ravenous animals, and others with advanced sentient life. When war broke out between the planets, threatening to destroy all the founders had created, they separated the worlds into their own pockets of space and time to preserve life.”

  Oh, hell. “Into their own realities, you mean. They put up the veil between them.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Fast-forward to how Baku got here.”

  Izan fidgeted with one of the fine braids at his temple. “When I first came to this project, I was but a child chasing after butterflies. When my elders abandoned this project and left here for their own time and place, I remained, mostly observing Earth as your people were in their most primitive states.”

  Izan’s people were from another time? I couldn’t handle any more shocks at the moment, so I didn’t ask.

  “I did not understand emotion,” he continued, “how it could cause a chemical reaction in a creature strong enough to make them forgo their own survival instincts to save another. I also did not understand why some creatures became intelligent and others did not. The founders planted the ingredients for life, but some magic or divine intervention beyond my understanding must have granted you sentience.

  “During one of my journeys to the other realities, I found Baku’s world. His race could sense me like no others, and he was grieving for his mate and seven of his young who had been on one of the other planets during the divergence.”

  “Jesus, Izan. I’m supposed to fight a dead king who’s pissed at you for taking his family away? No wonder the guy’s so driven.” I pulled up the stool and sat down at the vanity, my stomach in knots. “You said you led to their destruction, so what did you do?”

  “I wanted to help him merge the realities, but I needed a large power source as I had not evolved into a true founder with the ability to undo what my ancestors had done. I promised to find this source, but not before I determined whether or not the worlds could exist together in the same universe without war.”

  I slowly came to my feet. “Te
ll me you didn’t.” At the drop of his shoulders, I pounded the counter. “You didn’t want to give up your intergalactic ant farm, so you used Earth as your goddamned petri dish, didn’t you? You took stuff from all of the other worlds and planted it here for the earliest human knuckle-draggers to find, then sat back to watch the forming cultures collide. Which means you influenced them in ways I can’t begin to comprehend. The pyramids? Stonehenge? The holy freakin’ Bible? You’re probably behind the whole Area 51 thing, and crop circles, too, am I right? People are out there right now praying to gods that don’t even exist.”

  “I weighed the lives of this one world against the possible destruction of all of them. If Earth reacted badly to the mixing of objects from other worlds—which it did within a few centuries—then only it would be destroyed, and I would not bring the realities together. It seemed a small sacrifice at the time.”

  “Small. Billions of humans, from babies to grannies. You’ve completely destroyed who we might have been, you jerk. Do you even understand what that means? I’m starting to believe Caine, that you’re just as bad as Baku, or maybe worse.” I’d always believed Earth’s diversity was our greatest strength, except for those who used it as an excuse to start war. Who would we have developed into if Izan hadn’t interfered? Would we have been better off? Or worse? We’d never know, and that pissed me off.

  He recoiled and hissed as if I’d burned him.

  “Nothing to say about that?” I asked. “How did you destroy Baku’s sun if you were trying to help him? I’d suggest you start flapping those mirror lips of yours before I decide maybe you’re the villain here after all, and Baku is only what you made him.”

  He reached for me, and I launched off the stool even though it was stupid to flee from something inside my own head. “This experiment took time, but his race is long-lived… I should have known his patience would run out. He took matters into his own hands, and desperation and ignorance are a dangerous combination…”