The Breaker's Resolution: (YA Paranormal Romance) (Fixed Points Book 4)

by Conner Kressley

  “You!” I screamed. Instantly, the world switched over to shade. Without thinking, I ripped him off the ground and slammed him against the Jeep, using only the shade to hold him. Anger rose in me, and I began to choke him.

  “Cress!’ Casper was beside me, shaking the crazy out of me. “Cress you’re going to kill him!”

  I pulled away, letting Jiqui fall helplessly to the ground.

  “Maybe he deserves to die!” I yelled. “He was with him, Cass! He was with Allister Leeman.”

  “Yes he was,” Dahlia leveled a glare on him. “And I’m more than a little concerned about what he’s doing here with Royce. But now isn’t the time to act impulsively. Mr. Blut will pay for his crimes in due course. But right now, we have more pressing matters at hand.”

  My head jerked toward Dahlia and then Jiqui, who had an inexplicable grin on his face.

  “Did you say Blut?” I asked. “Like my…”

  “Like your father,” Dahlia finished. “I’m sorry to say that this is Jiqui Blut, your uncle.”

  Chapter 2

  Sort Of a Curveball

  The whole world did that squishy bending thing that I had gotten so used to. Turned out that, no matter how many troubling revelations one experiences in their life, it never goes away.

  Jiqui was my uncle, Jiqui!

  I could have probably thought of a worse fate, but it would have been damn hard.

  “That’s-that’s not true,” I stammered, but I knew better. For me, truth was never a good thing. It was never a last minute death sentence reprieve or the Rainman dude beating on the glass in the seconds before a wedding I absolutely shouldn’t be involved in. For me, the truth was this; a series of gut punches that left me reeling, one after the other.

  “Don’t sound so disappointed,” Jiqui answered, standing with his hand on his throat. “Given who the other side of your family is, I’d have thought you’d be relieved to see me.”

  “The other side of my family is dead,” I said, remembering that the Luna line had apparently died out.

  “Yes, and you’re not. Isn’t that a relief?”

  “What the hell are you doing with him?” I turned to Royce. Hell must have been shining through my eyes, because the stupid cowboy flinched when I turned to him.

  “Calm down, Sweetheart. It’s all gonna be okay,” he said, holding his hands out in front of him. Even though he was obviously concerned about me, there was a lightness in his voice that didn’t belong here, not with Dahlia covered in what was almost certainly Echo’s blood.

  “Is it?!” I screamed. “Is it really Royce?” I jabbed a finger into his chest. “Because, last I checked, we were stranded in the middle of the desert, Echo was dead, and we had no idea how we got here!”

  Casper stiffened beside me, and I knew why. Saying it out loud, that Echo was very likely dead, wasn’t something anyone wanted to hear, especially Dahlia. And, although she didn’t respond when the words left my mouth, I instantly regretted saying them.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Royce’s eyes narrowed. “Echo ain’t dead. He’s-“

  His eyes widened, and I knew he was hitting the wall, whatever it was that was keeping us from remembering where we were, how we got here, or how long we had been out of the Hourglass.

  “Disorienting, isn’t it?” Casper quipped, resting an elbow on Royce’s shoulder. “You know something, since this has happened to me before, that kinda makes me the expert on losing your memory. I’m sort of the most important person here now, almost like the key to everyth-“

  “Shut up,” Dahlia said.

  “Yes ma’am,” Casper answered.

  “Dead or not, we have to keep moving,” Dahlia said.

  “We don’t,” I said, shaking my head and remembering my place in all of this, how-whether I meant to or not- this was my fault. “You literally still have his finger in your hand, Dahlia. If you need to take a minute. Hell, if you need to take a month-”

  “Then we’ll die,” she stated flatly. “We don’t have a minute or a month. We’re outside of the Hourglass, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe. We’re far from it. We’re sitting ducks out here, without so much as our memories to shield us. We have to get to safety. I have to get you to safety. Because if I don’t do that, then all of the sacrifices made will have been in vain.” She bit her lip and looked past me. “And I will not have that.”

  “Also, we’re not stranded anymore,” Casper said, pointing to the jeep.

  “Who did you steal that from?” I asked, turning to Jiqui.

  “From you, actually.” He pulled a key from his pocket and threw it to me. Instinctively, I caught it in my left hand. “Consider it a present, for all my niece’s missed birthdays.”

  “I’m not taking your stolen garbage,” I sneered, throwing the keys back at him.

  “Well now Sweetheart, let’s not be too hasty. Seeing as how we’re on foot in what looks like the most desolate place in the world, maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to throw away good help. What is it they say about gift horses?” Royce made his way toward me.

  ‘That they lead to hell,” I muttered. “What’s the last thing you remember Royce?”

  He squinted. “You knocking a big ass hole into the wall of the Hourglass, then riding next to this goon,” he pointed to Jiqui.

  “Right. So that’s your first memory of him. You know what my first memory of him is?”

  “Oh, here we go,” Jiqui groaned from beside me.

  “If you value your teeth, I suggest you stop using them,” Dahlia answered. “I may have stopped Cresta from killing you, but that was for her own benefit, to stop her from making a mistake I’m sure she’d regret. Believe me when I say that I wouldn’t hold myself to such standards.” She nodded to me. “Go ahead.”

  “The first memory I have of this man, of this monster, is him spying on me while I slept. They put cameras in my house Royce, in my school. He made me believe I was losing my mind and, when I thought things couldn’t get worse, it was this mongrel who broke into my house and assaulted my mother.” I bit my lip to stop the tears from coming. “Of all the people responsible for killing my mother, he’s the only one left standing.”

  Royce looked me up and down, calibrating something behind his cloaked eyes. “Your call, Sweetheart. You don’t want the jeep. We won’t take the jeep.” He turned to Jiqui. “Hit the dirt before I throw ya in it.”

  Jiqui stared for a moment, glaring from one of us to the next. I wasn’t sure what his Breaker ability was, but it hardly mattered. He was outnumbered, and he knew it. Without even taking my weird shade shaping powers into account, three Breakers and a pissed off Casper was too much for him to handle by himself. As such, he should be terrified. Instead, he started cackling like a crazy person, laughing so hard that his eyes began to water.

  “What the hell are you laughing at, you waste of space?” Casper said. He had been there. He had seen all the awful things Jiqui and the rest of Allister Leeman’s men did to us. He watched them beat my mother and, in many ways, my loss was his loss.

  “I’m sorry,” Jiqui said, wiping his eyes and composing himself. “It’s just, you people couldn’t be blindfolded and be more lost.” He laughed again. “And you want to leave me. Me!” Shaking his head, he added, “This is priceless.”

  “That’s it. I’m kicking his ass,” Royce said, moving toward him quickly.

  “Why don’t you do yourself a favor, Cowboy,” he said, holding his hands up to surrender. “Look in the dashboard.”

  Royce glared at him, then looked back at me.

  “What do you have to lose?” Jiqui asked. “You’re taking the stupid thing anyway. We both know that. Whether it has my stench in it or not, it’s better than burning to death in the desert. Check the dashboard. Then you’ll see what I mean when I say the automobile belongs to Cresta.”

  Hesitantly, Royce inched toward the vehicle.

  “Don’t be so afraid, Cowboy. You were just in the damn thing.” Jiqui
’s eyes settled on me and, though I tried to stop it, the sickest idea came over me.

  Those eyes, they were like my biological father’s eyes. God help me, they were like my eyes.

  No! I had been through too much to even entertain this idea. Even if he was my uncle, it wouldn’t matter. I had no connection with him, not a man like that; who would throw away everything that was right and good on some jacked up fairy tale.

  “What do you see?” I asked Royce, breaking eye contact with Jiqui.

  “Not much,” he answered, ruffling through the contents. “A bunch of papers, and owner’s manual, and some gum.”

  “Is it Juicy Fruit?” Casper asked. “What?” he said, noticing the look I shot him. “My mouth is dry.”

  “Look at the leasing agreement, at the name on the bottom,” Jiqui said.

  “Oh,” Royce said, getting out of the car with a sheet of paper in his hand. “He ain’t lying, Sweetheart. This car belongs to you.”

  He handed the agreement to me. The paper felt new in my hands, like it had just come out of the printer. Scanning it, my eyes ran to the bottom. Not only was my name listed as owner, my signature looped across the line above it.

  “Go ahead,” Jiqui said. “Look for shade. Make sure it hasn’t been tampered with and, when you’re satisfied that I’m telling you the truth, ask the question you know you want to.”

  I didn’t want to do it, mostly because Jiqui had told me to. But also because I knew what the result would be. Like I said, truth had never been a good thing for me.

  “It’s for real,” I answered. “I signed this. It’s my jeep.”

  “I kind of already named it Allen,” Royce said. “I hope that’s cool.”

  “No,” Casper said. “I don’t care if that is your signature. Which is sloppy to the point of being almost unrecognizable, by the way,” he added. “He’s lying to you. He’s trying to manipulate us somehow. You’re not eighteen yet, Cress. You can’t sign for a car.”

  “That’s true,” Jiqui grinned. “At least, not without a co-signer.”

  My eyes flickered over to the other line. Under co-signer, in swooping disgusting typography, sat the name Jiqui Blut.

  He signed it. Sometime in the past, in the time between then and now that I couldn’t remember, I had been in cahoots with this bastard. But what on earth would lead me to make that decision? What had happened?

  “Go ahead,” Jiqui said, his voice drenched in slime and triumph. “Ask me.”

  “What do you know?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  He leaned forward, causing every muscle in my body to tense up. “Me?” He laughed. “Why my poor little niece, I know what I’ve always known. Everything.”

  “Just tell her what-“

  “Quiet!” Jiqui silenced Royce quickly. “It’s my turn to talk now Cowboy. And you’ll listen, because you have no other choice.”

  I moved toward him, crumpling the lease agreement in my hand.

  “You’ve been gone for a month and a half,” he started. “In that time, I and my people have managed to keep you off the radar. We’ve moved you from safe house to safe house. And, in that time, you’ve all lost your memories as well as your composure twice.” He cleared his throat. “Each time, you’ve threatened to kill me, though this was the first time I actually thought you’d go through with it. I suppose the desert air doesn’t agree with you.”

  “How did we get out here?” I asked.

  “You’re actually going to believe this idiot?” Casper balked from beside me.

  “I don’t see where we have much of a choice,” I consented.

  “The hell you don’t!” Casper screamed. “You’re Breakers. You’ve got weird Breaker powers. Dahlia could rub my jacket and tell me what I had for breakfast yesterday morning.” He shrugged. “Which is more information than I can tell you about myself right now. “ He pointed to Jiqui.“But the point is, why not let Dahlia take a crack at that ugly shaved head and see how much truth she comes up with?”

  “Because I’m afraid my powers aren’t working the way they’re supposed to,” Dahlia grumbled. “I’ve been trying to gleam something from Echo’s finger since I came to, and I’ve come up empty. The anchors must have damaged my mind to the point of affecting my powers.”

  “Wrong!” Jiqui said in a victorious singsong voice. “Though you’re on the right track.” He looked to Dahlia, whose scowl could have cut glass. “When we found you, several strong cloaking anchors were placed on your persons. They were meant to keep you effectively invisible to the Council, but the amount of shade needed to do that has the unfortunate side effect of-“

  “Keeping me out too,” Dahlia finished.

  “Right and, as your consort, the same anchors have been placed on me. So,” he pointed to his shaved head. “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to take me at my word.”

  “Which would be easier if you weren’t such a lying sack of-“

  “Why are we in the desert?” I asked, cutting Royce off.

  “Well that’s your own fault,” he answered. “We pleaded with you to stay put; told you that, if you left the safe houses, you’d be more susceptible to the Council. But you do-gooders kept rambling on and on about the Damnatus.”

  The heat of recognition rose in my face. He knew about the Damnatus. But there would be no way for him to know about the Damnatus; not unless we told him.

  “I still don’t trust you,” I answered.

  “That’s probably smart. Reach into your left pocket,” he answered.

  “You work for Allister Leeman,” I said.

  “Allister Leeman is dead. And I never worked for Allister Leeman. I work for Iris. And Iris works for the Raven. Now reach into your left pocket.”

  “I don’t know any damn Iris!” Royce said, finally managing a complete sentence uninterrupted.

  “Yes well, you were sort of a curve ball,” Jiqui said. “Now if you’d kindly tell you girlfriend to reach into her-“

  “I’m not his girlfriend,” I said, digging into my pocket. I pulled out a folded note.

  “What is this?” I asked, spreading it out.

  “The only thing that ever gets you to believe me after you people have one of your little episodes,” he answered.

  “Don’t Cress,” Casper said. “What if it’s a trap?”

  “It’s paper,” I answered, though I knew that hardly mattered. In this world, the world of the Breakers, anything could be a weapon, including whatever anchor might be on this paper.

  But it wasn’t a trap. It was a letter and, to my dismay, I recognized the handwriting almost immediately. I had seen it for the last two years…on my prescriptions.

  “It’s from Dr. Conyers,” I gasped. “It’s from my biological mother.”

  Chapter 3

  Severe Breakage

  Owen

  It had been weeks since Cresta left, and Sevie still wasn’t awake. Hour after hour passed of him just lying there, sweat pouring off him in sheets, his brow knitted together continuously. Worry built up in me like flowing water pooling up against the other side of a dam. Without some relief soon, it would burst and all the feelings that had been safely tucked away would pour out like some awful, regretful torrent.

  I kept thinking about everything Mother had told me about Sevie’s birth; about the way he stopped breathing, the way he died in front of her. I thought about the blond woman who seemingly appeared offering her a chance to bring him back. Then I thought about Sevie’s eyes, and the fearful and feverish things he said to me when I was sure the bloodmoon was going to kill him.

  ‘Can I still be your brother?’

  The Council called for me several times while my brother lay motionless in bed. After it was clear just how much I was going to ignore those calls, they began to command me.

  When even that went unanswered, the Lighfoot farmhouse was graced with a visit from none other than Chant himself; highest and most infuriating of all the Council.

  That’s twice
in one cycle. Father must be brimming with pride.

  When Chant walked into Sevie’s room, where I had taken up permanent residence as of late, my stomach soured. Something about him being in this place, walking so close to where my defenseless brother lay, was akin to stomping through holy ground in combat boots.

  His cane clanged heavy against the floor and, when I saw what was left of Flora, dead eyed and shuffling around behind him, my stomach went from sour to sickened.

  “You’ve been a naughty Dragon,” the old man said. His voice lacked its usual macabre playfulness, which was to be expected given the devastating blow they had just been given in losing the Bloodmoon. “I’ve been calling for you.”

  “I’ve been a little busy,” I answered, not moving from the spot right beside Sevie’s bed.

  “You can thank your girlfriend for that,” he said flatly.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend,” I answered, eyeing the ancient etchings that now ran up my arm and signified my unbreakable and unending union with Merrin. “You made quite sure of that.”

  “Yes, the tribulations of the married life. It’s a sign of growth, if you ask me.”

  “I don’t remember asking you anything,” I barked.

  “Not yet,” he grimaced. “But you will.”

  My eyes darted up at him as he crept closer, circling around to the foot of Sevie’s bed, cane in hand. His face looked even more weathered than usual, all sunken in eyes and hollow cheeks. Still, his expression looked as determined as ever, and that scared the hell out of me.

  “We need a report of what happened,” he said, his gaze resting on Sevie.

  “You had people at every inch of the Great Wall. Surely you don’t need me to tell you how the Bloodmoon escaped,” I said.

  “We’re well aware of what happened on the outside.” He tapped a wrinkled finger across his equally wrinkled temple. “We’re more concerned about what happened on the inside. You were using Sebastian’s abilities when the departure was committed.” His mouth turned down disgustedly. “You were commanded to communicate with the Bloodmoon, to convince her to turn herself in and put an end to the abominations she wrought.” His cane clanged heavily against the floor again. “Obviously, you were unsuccessful. But the exact nature of your failure is still a mystery, as are your true motivations. Now, given that Allister Leeman’s blasted psionic barriers are still in place within your mind, the Council has no way of extracting the truth from you.” His eyes slid from Sevie to me. “With that in mind, we’ll need you to give us an official report of what happened between you and Cresta Blut.”