by E. J. Mellow
“Six,” Dev says curtly.
“Seven,” Hector adds.
“Guys.” I turn to them. “She’s literally in chains.”
Their joint resolute glares let me know they aren’t budging. With I resigned sigh, I nod for them to follow, and with the sound of multiple locks unlocking and a whoosh of air, we’re shown into Aurora’s cell.
She doesn’t look up as we enter. In fact, the only movement she makes that tells me she’s aware of our presence are her fingers tightening as they rest threaded together on the table.
I glance to Dev, watch as his jaw muscle ticks and his blue eyes swim with a multitude of emotions as he stares at her. What must it be like for him to see her like this? After everything they’ve been through, helped each other survive. Has that all been erased now? I know with Aaron on the loose, my life is now in danger, but really, when has it not been? And can anyone really blame her for not wanting her brother to die, blackhearted monster or no? I’m still pissed by her actions and feel betrayed, angry, and hurt, but I also understand. We do crazy things for the ones we love.
So with a steadying intake of air, I approach Aurora, only to be held back by Dev’s hand coming down on my shoulder.
“No,” he says quietly, not so much a demand as a plea. “This is close enough.”
But I merely rest my fingers atop his and, with a small reassuring squeeze, step away.
“Aurora,” I say lightly, taking a seat in front of her. “Can you look at me please?”
She doesn’t move, her drape of tangled strawberry-blonde hair blocking her face.
I try a different way in. “I’m not mad,” I say. “I even understand why you helped him.”
Still silence.
“But what I don’t understand is how you let him put you in such a position. He’s out there”—I gesture to the general space around us—“while you’re now locked in here, forced to deal with the repercussions of his actions. Again.”
That gets her attention. Her head snaps up, her green gaze boring into me, the malice pouring from it like a slice from a razor blade. “You know nothing of our relationship,” she bites out. “He would have done the same for me.”
“Would he?”
“Yes!” She jams herself forward, her chest hitting the table, and I lean back, shocked at her feral demeanor. I sense my guards stepping closer, and I hold my hand up. Stay, I demand silently.
“Aurora,” I continue. “Look at yourself. This isn’t you.”
“What do you know about who I am?”
“Well, I like to think we are friends, but it seems you no longer feel that way. And…I’m not sure why.”
She barks out a laugh while sitting back in her chair, wincing as the Navitas cuffs sizzle part of her wrists that brushed against it. I feel sick seeing what’s happened to her.
“You sentenced my brother to death,” she says through clenched teeth. “How could I be friends with you?”
“From what I remember, it was Aaron’s actions that led the Council to decide his fate. I didn’t cast one vote into the decision.”
“But it’s because of you that he acted like that in the first place. Because of both of you.” She cuts a narrowed look behind me to where Dev stands.
“Aurora, are you listening to yourself? You sound just as delusional as he is.”
“He is not delusional.”
“Crazy then.”
“No!”
“Mad?”
“Shut up!” she yells. “Shut up! Shut up!”
And I do, knowing I should never have antagonized her in the first place, but I’m finding my patience growing thin. I don’t know how to reason with this woman. How could someone so sane, so lucid, and levelheaded be reduced to such a creature? Her logic is scattered like marbles from a fallen bag.
“Aurora,” I say again with forced calm. “Your brother is suffering from heartbreak, one that happened long before I arrived here. Every action he has taken since that day has nothing to do with me. Can’t you see that? He’s trying to look for someone to blame, because I can only assume he blames himself for what happened to…Anebel.” I force her name from my lips and watch Aurora’s breathing grow heavy, her nostrils flaring with each puff of breath. “He’s lost his way. His hate and self-torment has twisted him into someone that I believe is not the brother you knew so many years ago.”
“That’s not true!” she bellows, and tries to throw herself at me again, but the Navitas cuffs instantly shock her to sit back down, while two Vigil guards push her shoulders back. “He’s my Aaron, and I’m his mia gemella,” she pants on a wail. “I will always be his mia gemella! You did this.” She can’t seem to stop. “You and Devlin. You were going to let him die! My brother. You were going to kill him!”
She’s lost it, gone mad. How could Aaron have reduced her to this so quickly? How could he so easily abuse the endless love she has for him?
I feel sick, cold, as if the mere act of sitting so close to someone so full of hate and torment can seep into me… I gasp, a realization forming.
“Molly?” Dev questions.
“Just wait,” I whisper, and in the next moment, I change to the sight of energy. What I find nearly knocks me out of my seat.
Aurora’s blood flows blue-white with the interwoven strands of Navitas locked to her cells—her life’s energy. But now a dark sludge wraps around those threads, a black tar I’ve seen many times before, but only in one creature—the Metus.
How did this get here? Inside her and so fused? Is this what manifests after so much hate stays in one’s mind? By the stars! Aaron. Could he really have transferred his negativity like an airborne virus, like the Metus?
Even though I never looked into his soul, saw what truly lurked within those vein, I knew I didn’t have to. The sick cloud that perpetually hovered over him, how his mere presence mutated the nearest space to something ugly, was answer enough.
With these thoughts swirling, I hesitantly let my power reach out to the darkness floating in Aurora’s veins. But as soon as it touches, a flash of nightmares shoots to my brain, and I recoil, returning my vision to normal and placing a steadying hand on the table.
“Dear God,” I whisper.
“Molly.” Dev pulls me up and away. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I don’t find the strength to answer him until much later, for all I can do now is watch the snarling girl in front of me, knowing of the monsters that lurk unseen inside and that I’m completely helpless to fix it. I realize my grandfather was right—I am about to face a very large challenge, and the doubt, well, it’s most definitely creeping in.
— 32 —
Our hover car flies over the darkened field at a breakneck speed, the scenery outside the glass an angry wipe of an artist’s brush. Immediately upon leaving the Prisoner Barracks, I made sure we went to help at the Navitas generator, where we were alerted of a Metus attack. I need something to put my concentration into, something I can immediately fix.
When I touched the darkness flowing in Aurora, I not only snapped back from the horrors that flashed in my mind, but also the surprise of what I felt. While the black energy was similar to Metus’, there was also something new, something foreign that leaves me lost on a solution. When helping Tim, and even trying to with Alec, the intruding tendrils were so different from their own life force that I was able to separate it like liquid from a solid. But with what I felt in Aurora…it was so interwoven and complicatedly sewn it would be like trying to compartmentalize different colors of mixed sand—painstaking and nearly impossible.
I gnaw on my bottom lip as I glance out the window, my Arcus strap across my chest feeling too tight. I haven’t yet told Dev what I saw. I will of course, but I need more time to process it, figure out what can be done. Mainly, I need to talk with Elena and, ugh, yes, probably Cato.
Dev’s hand rests on my knee, bringing my attention to the fact that I was bouncing it restlessly.
“Sorry,” I say.
/>
“Nothing to apologize for.” He looks at me softly. “Can’t your boyfriend put his hand on your leg?”
I give him a distracted grin, my thoughts still barreling forward along with our movements, all the things I need to do. A thick hush fills the interior of the car, our companions busy with their mental preparations for the upcoming fight. A few of my Vigil guards are in attendance, while Dev’s Nocturna team packs the majority of the seats.
“You’re going to chew that off,” Dev says, nodding to my lip.
I immediately set it free from between my teeth, and after a moment quietly ask, “What will happen to her?”
His features grow tight. “It will be up to the elders to decide.”
“The elders? But what about the Council?”
“Things like this go through them before it comes to the Council.”
“Oh…well, that could be a good thing, right?”
The dark look he gives me is answer enough.
As we approach the threatened Navitas generator, the orange glow of the attacking Metus filling the sky, we ready ourselves. Assault weapons are double-checked for ammo, Arcus straps are tightened, and glowing blades are pulled from sheaths that sit across a few Nocturna backs. Each of Dev’s team members has been specifically selected to fight in a unit, each lending his or her own diverse talent to the mix. And lucky for me, they are extremely professional when it comes to my presence. I suffer no side glances or hidden whispers like I often do with the other Nocturna, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Catching eyes with a short-haired blonde woman, who I’ve learned is called Minka, she gives me a respectful nod before going back to placing small bombs into a holster around her waist.
“Disengaging top cover,” the driver announces just before we stand, the audible whirl and click of weapons hoisting into place. I shift slightly in my Dreamer vest, the palms of my hands beginning to tingle with the Navitas that I pull to them. I hold the energy just below the surface, waiting.
“Ready?” Dev says to me.
“Ready.” I nod and take in one last breath of fresh air before the putrid wind of our enemies hits us as the glass top falls away. The battle sounds are deafening, but having finally grown accustomed to my new senses, I am no longer overwhelmed. The field is covered with Metus, their red dripping forms attacking the smaller dark bodies of the Nocturna. The generator stands tall and proud a good distance away, the blue-white top crackling with Navitas as it reaches for the sky, for the souls that pass overhead, lending down their dreams.
The beginning of these fights usually start out the same. For as long as they can, Dev’s team attacks as a group from the vehicle, using its sides as a shield from the fireballs thrown our way, before we are all forced to engage from the ground.
Once we hit the soft soil, Hector and I follow Dev to where we see Aveline fighting a few yards away, the tall grass thwacking our shins as we run. Tim is with her, having been cleared for battle a few days ago, and I watch as he lets loose a flaming arrow into a charging Metus. The monster dodges just in time, but Tim already has a new one nocked, and this time his aim is true. With its head thrown back, the beast gurgles a scream before bursting apart. From Tim’s quick abilities one would never guess he suffered such life-threatening wounds a few months ago.
With silent acknowledgment of one another, we stand in a circle, back to back as we attempt to hold the nightmares at bay. My mind tingles with my use of power, warm to cold as I shoot out blazing ball after ball from my palms, any monster that gets in the way quickly removed. But with each pop of their bodies, the air is filled with fouler odors, and I have to hold back, more than once, retching all over myself.
“The tower!” someone yells, and I glance over my shoulder to see a band of five tightly packed Metus storming through a set of Nocturna. The soldiers don’t stand a chance and are soon covered in burning lava as the grouped enemy merely plows through them to get to what they truly desire.
“No!” I yell and run forward, feeling my Vigil guards and team following.
“Careful, Molly!” Dev calls just as I skitter to a stop, watching the forms of the once-living man and woman now rise as our enemy. Their bodies are bent at odd angles, their new skin a mix of flesh and burning red mucus, and they walk awkwardly forward, no solid joints to hold them up, only a sick thickness of evil.
“No!” I say again, knowing it’s too late to save them, at least in the way I want to. The other way I’ll leave to Dev, still unable to bring myself to put down the turned.
The sound of Hector cursing beside me tugs my attention to the group of Metus that have now reached the tower’s base. They slap their sludgy palms onto the black metal siding, slugs inching up hungrily to reach the top.
“We need help!” A nearby soldier yells as his small team throws everything they’ve got at the monsters. Aveline rushes ahead, her pale hair whipping in the night wind, and I’m quick on her heels. With a flick of her wrist, the Arcus she holds flips around to become a double-barreled shotgun, and without losing a beat, she rests it into the crook of her shoulder. She lets out two loud thwak thwak of Navitas-charged ammo. One hits a climbing Metus square on the back, its torso filling with the blue-white light before spreading to the rest of it, and on a howl of pain it falls the two stories to the ground to splatter and explode. The Nocturna jump back as chucks of burning liquid splash across the grass, and one woman does the due diligence of stabbing what remains with her glowing sword, killing any lingering energy and turning the mounds to black.
As if sensing the new layer of foes, the four Metus left clinging to the side of the building suddenly join together as one, the power of such a combination sending out black waves of malice and hopelessness.
“Shit,” I whisper as visions of this happening once before pass by. But while they were two, these are four, and they create a beast so monstrous the soldiers below are rendered momentarily still by the sight. It’s like King Kong hanging on the Empire State Building, except this creature’s howl sends shards of devastation through my core.
Screw this.
Jumping into flight, the added concentration pulling a good chunk from my vest, I hover in front of the mutation. One large clawed hand swipes toward me, but I move back and draw my Arcus. Using my Navitas would only drain me quicker, so I dip into the talents of the past Dreamers, letting their muscle memory flow through me as I fling arrow after arrow at the erupting blob. But besides it hissing in discomfort as the poison-laden energy lodges into it, its skin seems to swallow the energy whole, merely creating a black spot of dried lava on the area it touched.
It shrugs me off like I’m merely a gnat flying by its food, and continues to climb.
By the stars, why didn’t that work?
“Molly!” my name is called from below, but my mind is racing too fast to divert my attention. I need something stronger to take this thing down, and quick. If it reaches the top, we are more than fucked.
Staying in midair, I briefly close my eyes and internally channel every last ounce of energy I have. This will do a number on me afterward, but I don’t have time to question it. Calling strength from my predecessors, I switch to the sight of energy, looking at a world now dancing in flames. My mind sings with icy heat, my limbs vibrate with contained power, and I glance to the Nocturna and Vigil below. They are nothing but white spots, the continuous ammo shot from their weapons trails of bright light. Looking forward again, the dark mass in front of me is so void of life it takes on the appearance of a black hole as it slowly slimes its way up the tower, its hunger palpable to reach the top. And this is where I make a slight mistake. I check out the Navitas swirling above, and seeing it in this plane almost knocks me sideways.
It’s so…everything. It’s life and death, hopes and fears, dreams and nightmares. It’s so pure and honest and full of love that it makes me want to weep. It’s more potent than any other Navitas I’ve been connected to, and in my distracted haze, I wonder if this is what it would be like to look
at the Sea of Dreams in this sight.
I’m not sure what does it—if someone yells or my flight falters—but suddenly my hypnosis breaks, and I’m hit hard with an answer. An answer that will either save us all or be the stupidest thing in the world. Clenching my jaw, I throw out a lasso string of Navitas to connect with the blinding energy cracking at the tower’s tip. Like a punch to my back, I gasp as my chest arcs forward. The heavily concentrated power pools into me, a water dam set free, and I nearly drown in sensation. My veins are doused in euphoria, in perfection as my soul sighs in relief while at the same time greedy for more. In this moment, I understand why the Metus thirst for this, can think of nothing else, for there isn’t anything beyond this feeling…nothing that could possibly compare, and I want it to go on forever.
But it can’t, a woman’s voice whispers in my ear. It is not yours to keep.
Riki.
As if she’s gripping my cheeks, telling me to come back, to concentrate, I dash away the hunger slipping into my bones, just in time to see the dark soul of the Metus a hair’s breadth away from wrapping itself around the top. With the crackling of lightning channeling into one of my arms, I throw out the other, shooting sparks from my fingers to stab my victim. It throws its large head back in a scream of shock and elation as it becomes locked in, the three of us—the generator, the Metus, and myself—held together in a circle of blue-white fire. I watch the blackness of the monster’s soul ooze toward me, wanting to consume me in the hopes to get at the source just beyond, but I grind my teeth and hold still, forcing myself to keep flight, keep my concentration. My face drips with sweat, my body dangerously overheating as my mind is sliced with thousands of cold-tipped blades. With a growl, I suck in every drop of strength, as much of the pure light as I can before I slam it into the beast.
With a continuous scream I don’t stop, I channel wave after wave of the generator’s energy straight into the monster. It flows through me, my body merely a vessel as it guzzles into the Metus. I can sense the creature’s instant sigh of relief. It grows stronger, larger as I feed it, overindulge it. I give it everything until it’s too much, until the flames fill the monster to the brim, and I watch with blazing eyes as the once-black hole fills with light, the skin of the nightmare ballooning under the pressure, under the pureness. Its pleasured mewls change to moans of discomfort, then to howls of pain as I overdose it with all the hope and love and dreams I can. I poison it with the very thing it craves. And right when I can no longer hold any of this, can no longer be used as a connecter, a vibration racks through the land, and the bloated Metus bursts into dust of twinkling diamonds, no lava sludge to be seen.