Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series

by Laurie D'Ghent

  Wondering how big of an idiot she was about to make of herself, Integrity grabbed on to the fabric, wrapped her legs around it, and, swinging upside down, began inching upward like a sloth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Getting onto the platform had been awkward and difficult, but she'd finally made it. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she rubbed at the backs of her legs where they had been rubbed raw by the silk.

  The platform she sat on was reasonably stable, compared to what it had once been, but she felt while sitting, still, on it—the thought of getting up and walking was ludicrous. The wood was maybe two feet wide, with no handrails or safety measures of any kind. Four chains, bolted through the corners, disappeared to the ceiling high above. The platform moved erratically, wiggling at random. Integrity sighed. The things I get myself into.

  She would have liked to wait until the platform stilled itself, but she didn't dare. She felt as though she'd been in the room for hours already, and most of that was spent thinking or sitting dumbly; the crowd wouldn't like that. “Well,” she muttered, levering herself carefully to her feet, clutching one chain as the ground beneath her swung wildly, “they're not going to get a song and dance out of me.”

  The board was about six feet long, and Integrity regretted that she couldn't reach from one chain to another; granted, they didn't provide much stability, but they made her feel better. She considered getting down on her hands and knees, but didn't trust the platform to not buck her off in the process. Moving as slowly as she could, she shuffled away from her only support.

  Under her weight, the board sagged in the middle. Hardly reassuring.

  She finally crossed the distance and grasped the chain desperately. She took a moment to catch her breath, the world spinning around her as the wooden plank swayed, then studied the door.

  An extremely skinny ledge hovered high above her, extending a foot or two on either side of the door, but there was nothing she could possibly loop fabric through like she had done with the chains. She wanted to swear, but feared any unnecessary movement would send the platform twisting and rocking once more.

  She was considering sitting down, crossing her arms, and yelling, “Fine, I give up!” What the heck was she supposed to do? Ticked off, she reached across the small space and grasped the opposite chain. She nearly jumped back when, with a clatter, a rope ladder unfurled from the platform above her. Her world spinning once more, she stared at it in amazement. Are they actually helping me? That's not a good sign. Only when she adjusted her grip on the chain did she feel the small lever that she must have flipped when she'd grasped it. Okay, they didn't do it. But now what?

  The ladder, hanging a good ten or twelve feet away, was well out of reach. She considered hooking it much the same way she had hooked the platform from the ground, but knew the ladder was far too short to span the distance. She could untie one end of the platform and then tie the platform to the ladder, but she didn't relish the idea of trying to “sloth” across such a large distance, so high from the ground, when one of her anchor points would be suddenly free to move as it chose.

  Seeing a possible solution, Integrity began edging her way back across the board to the opposite end. Once there, she began feeding the fabric around the chain until her knot surfaced. It was even more difficult to untie now than it had been the first time, but she finally made it. As soon as the platform was freed, it began to sway dangerously.

  As a safety precaution, Integrity tied the silk around her waist, then to the chain she stood next to, still not trusting her knots to hold. Especially if I fall off this dang thing. Still, anything was better than nothing.

  Crossing over this time was even more nerve wracking, and Integrity bit her lip painfully in her concentration. The pain didn't register until she reached the far side and allowed her heart to start beating again. She knew there were marks in her lower lip from her teeth.

  Crouching down carefully, Integrity strained to pull the remaining anchor line, struggling to make the platform swing in a steady arc. She got it swinging higher and higher, its path becoming more predictable, as she grew increasingly dizzy. Why did I love to swing so much when I was a kid? It makes me so sick, now!

  The rope ladder grew nearer and nearer, but the anchor to the door below was beginning to be an impediment, rather than a help, jerking Integrity at the apex of each swing. She knew it wasn't possible to try to untie it while the platform was swinging, and it would be useless to do so if the platform was still. This is the best it's going to get, she told herself, trying to steady her vision.

  Not wanting to lose any of her momentum, Integrity fumbled with the knot at her waist, finding it disconcertingly loose. Freeing herself from her last shadow of safety, she clutched at the chain, causing the platform to wobble in its trajectory. She forced herself to close her eyes and calm herself. Her heart rate was dangerously fast, more of a hum than individual beats.

  Opening her eyes once more, feeling the platform slowing, she said a quick, desperate prayer, and leaped through the air, flailing madly for the rope ladder. She just managed to grasp the bottom rung.

  Her grip failing her, knowing she couldn't continue to hang on forever, she braced her feet on the wall and began to climb the ladder, hauling herself up in fits and bursts until she was able to get her feet on the last rung. She took a moment to recuperate, then scaled the last few feet to the ledge over her head.

  Є

  Outside the room, a cry rose from the crowd, a mixture of triumph and disappointment. Evan, unable to help himself, moved toward the window. Jydda blocked his path.

  “You're awfully concerned by this one, Evan,” she said. He felt like her words were poking him in the kidneys. “What's so special about her? Or are you just afraid she'll survive and you'll be stuck--”

  Evan cut her off, moving her less than gently out of his way. “Get out of my way, Jydda.” He moved nearer the window, looking for Integrity.

  Jydda grabbed his arm, effectively halting him. He looked to her in impatience. Lowering her voice, she murmured, “You don't need to worry, darling.” She trailed one finger down his chest, lowering her eyes alluringly. “She won't be an issue much longer.”

  Evan pulled distractedly away from her grip, looking through the window once more. “Where is she?” he said to himself, then barked at Jydda, “I thought this was supposed to be a 'fair' test. What's the point of sending her in there if she's just going to die?”

  “What do you care?” Jydda retorted, venom crawling into her voice. “I thought you'd be glad to be rid of the little nuisance.”

  “Then why didn't you take care of her the very first day, Jydda? Why let it drag on this long?”

  “Because I needed them to see that she's not the one,” Jydda hissed, shooting a glance at the group around them. “And she's not.”

  Tired of the conversation, Evan turned from her and moved to the window. Forcing himself to keep his voice neutral, he asked, “Where is she?”

  A woman to his left said, “On the ledge. She actually made it to the ledge! But just barely.” There was hunger in her words.

  Evan's gaze shot upward. Back pressed to the wall, Integrity stood on the narrow ledge, just to the right of the door. Though he could not see from here, he knew her eyes were shut. She extended one hand slowly, letting it slide across the wall, until she bumbled against the doorknob. With a slight hesitation, she turned the knob.

  For an instant, relief made her body sag. For an instant, she had succeeded where all the others had failed. For an instant, she was safe.

  Є

  Integrity felt a rush of relief as she felt the knob unlatch. She had made it. She knew this had to be the right path—there would be no lurking giant waiting to snap her neck or pitch her over the edge. She had done it. She was safe.

  Then, beneath her hand, the door jerked inward, away from her. The unexpected movement unsettled her, swinging her body out into the abyss. She was falling, two stories of empty air
swinging into view below her.

  Є

  The crowd gasped as one. Before anyone could assimilate what was happening, Evan was moving. Jerking one guard away from the door, he barked, “Get up there!” The guard ran down the hallway, his partner close behind him. Evan slid the bolt back.

  Є

  Integrity felt something grip her wrist, and she swung back onto the platform, one foot left in the air, her body sinking so her shin collided painfully with the concrete ledge. She could feel herself being pulled back up. Her mind still reeling, she felt herself crushed against someone's firm, cold body.

  Evan.

  Є

  Inside the arena, music thudding through him, Evan rushed to the wall beneath the platform, his eyes searching thoroughly for a way up. Nothing appeared. He'd known it wouldn't.

  Stepping back into the room, he craned his head up, gazing at the platform. He clenched his jaw, mind racing.

  Є

  Face crushed against his shoulder, Integrity gasped, “How did you get up here so fast?” She clung to him desperately, the void lurking behind her still. Her fingers clenched at his shirt. The fabric was soft, malleable.

  “I've been here the whole time, waiting for you. I knew you'd make it.”

  Є

  Evan strained his eyes through the darkness. The guards had not had sufficient time to get up there. So who had her? Who was standing just within the shadows? Who was she clinging to so desperately?

  Є

  Information trickled into Integrity's mind, piece by piece, gradually breaking into a deluge. The voice wasn't Evan's. Evan wasn't wearing a t-shirt. Evan was still warm from the blood of the woman from the restaurant...

  Her mind shut down before she had to admit to herself that she'd known who it was from the very beginning. She'd known he'd be behind the door. That's why she had chosen it.

  No!

  She pushed back, nearly went over the precipice once again. He pulled her back to him with a laugh. “It's okay. Everything's okay, now.”

  But everything wasn't okay. It was about as far from okay as it could ever be.

  And she had nowhere to flee.

  Є

  She shoved away from him, hovering for a moment over the gap separating them, then the shadow pulled her back to safety.

  Only then did Evan recognize him, even as he felt the power build inside him.

  He did not fight to control it. He welcomed it.

  Є

  Integrity clasped the shirt once more, this time the front of it, keeping her arms between them. Her vision blurred. Okay, throwing yourself off the platform—bad idea. She waited for her mind to rearrange itself to its proper form, hardly hearing the man speak.

  Elation filled his voice. Crushing her to him once more, he groaned. “I can't believe it's you! I've dreamed every day of this moment since they took you!” He squeezed her even tighter.

  Her stomach jumped uncomfortably, images playing through her mind, emotions warring with one another.

  He brushed his hand over her hair, laughing. “Your hair's so much longer!” He ran his fingers through it. She wanted to cringe, but she was too numb. This can't be happening.

  He pulled away from her, just enough so he could smooth the hair from her face. Running the tip of one icy finger under her bottom lip, he asked, “What happened?”

  Motion returning, she raised one hand and brushed it across the stubble growing on his cheek. It was sharp, and she flinched. “Don't touch me.” Her words lacked the power she had hoped for, but seeing the hunger, the need, in his eyes quailed her.

  “Oh, Integrity.” Sorrow dripped from his words like saliva. “What have they done to you?” He attempted to pull her close once more, but she fought him.

  “Don't touch me!”

  The sorrow dropped from Ben's face. “I see they've gotten to you, again.” Tenderness replacing his steel, he gently, but firmly, pulled her to him once more. She twisted so that her back was against his chest. The dark space welled before her. He moved his mouth near enough that she could feel his breath rush across her ear. She shivered. “Everything will be fine, love,” he murmured, his words crawling over her like millions of spiders. “I'll make it all better.”

  What is wrong with you? she screamed at herself, fighting off vertigo. Why in the world would you want to go with him? Why do you want to relax and sink against him, let him carry you away? She redoubled her efforts.

  Dropping her gaze to the floor below, ready to carry Ben over the edge with her, if possible, her eyes locked on a form below.

  What she saw made no sense, and she quit resisting.

  Є

  There, he'd turned, exposing himself. Evan released the ball of energy he held between his clawed hands, watched as it sped through the air toward Ben. His aim was impeccable.

  At the last possible second, Ben turned Integrity, forcing the energy to pass through her first. It hit her with an audible whump, louder than the music. She crumpled in Ben's grasp, and he dragged her backward through the door.

  Evan turned and rushed to the door. He had to get upstairs. He needed to be there five minutes ago.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The slow beep was growing steadily louder. She wanted to shove it away, force it from her ears, but didn't know how.

  Sensation began to return. Her body felt empty and incredibly heavy at the same time. She thought if she looked at her legs they would be swelling to gargantuan sizes, then shrinking to become dangerously frail.

  Yes, eyes. She had eyes. She should open them.

  It wasn't so much that they were heavy or stuck together; rather, that she couldn't seem to remember how to send an impulse from her brain to her muscles. She heard a rush of air, felt her chest expand and contract, and fear grasped at her core. She wasn't making herself breathe; her brain wasn't doing its job.

  She didn't know how long it had taken, but her brain had managed to rewire itself enough for her eyes to flutter. Blurry light broke through for an instant, then the lids shut again. She tried again.

  Her vision was not yet clear. Blinking helped, and it grew easier to open her eyes, but it seemed her brain needed to do some work before it could process visual images. A ceiling grew more distinct as time passed, with the edges of a light source appearing to her right.

  She was accepting that a machine breathed for her, now. It wasn't comfortable, but it was there.

  Shifting her eyes to the left, she could see something shiny, thin, and blurry. Warming up now, her brain registered it was a pole that held IV bags.

  Looking down revealed something large, semi-transparent, and foreign.

  It was in her mouth.

  It was blocking her airway.

  The beeping increased in speed.

  She struggled to raise her hand, yank the thing from her mouth, get it out of the way so she could breathe on her own, get real air in her lungs rather than this strange, medicinal crap. She managed to raise her hand from the bed, and she dropped it gracelessly on her chest, then moved to fumble with the interloper.

  A face floated into view, the voice calm, low. The person held her hand, chafing her fingers lightly. “Teg? Teg, can you hear me?” The face swam out of focus. “No, Teg, hang in there, stay with me.”

  She couldn't fight the weight from taking over, forcing her body to go limp, her eyes to close. Reality faded.

  Є

  She woke up, slowly, lazily. Under the covers, she stretched her legs, then rolled to her side. Something tugged painfully at her hand, and she cracked an eye. White medical tape marked an “X” where an IV line entered her bloodstream. Everything rushed back in an instant.

  Frightened, she sat bolt upright in bed. The room was unfamiliar, though she could easily recognize that it had been set up as a hospital room. Wires snaked across the covers, leading to every part of her body. Her first reaction was to rip them all away from her, but the thought of the blood, no longer blocked, flowing from her, caused her to
stop. She felt nauseous, laid back on the bed once more to still her spinning head.

  Ben's name kept pounding over and over in her head. It didn't seem possible that he had shown up, right under the noses of so many vampires, to steal her back again. He was locked up below Westmarch, wasn't he? At least, he was last I heard. So was it just some delirium brought on by who-knew-what drugs they were pumping into her veins right now?

  But why was she even in this room, hooked to so much junk? What had happened? Okay, the last thing I remember was being in the gauntlet thingie. She raised one hand to her moist brow, frowned when another IV tugged. I'd got up to the platform, then the door; Ben was there. But was he really? Did I just fall off the platform and knock myself out, dream the whole Ben thing? It is kind of hard to believe.

  She heard the swish of a door rubbing across carpet and dropped her arm back to her side, leaning up in the bed to see who was coming. The woman closed the door silently, then turned to face the bed. Integrity's face lit up. “Galia!”

  The woman's face mirroring her own, Galia floated quickly across the intervening space. “Integrity! You've woken!” Galia clasped one of Integrity's hands warmly, careful to avoid the wires and tubes. “How wonderful!”

  “I'm so relieved to see you!” Integrity gushed, leaning back on her pillows once more as her head swam. “I was so worried Ben had me again.” Cracking one eye nervously, she queried, “He doesn't have me, does he?”

  Galia laughed, the sound tinkling through Integrity's mind, helping to clear it. “No, I do not work for Ben.” Curtsying, she added, “I am a servant to Westmarch and always will be.”

  Integrity had mixed feelings about her location. Granted, the place had been less than kind to her, but at least it was familiar. Well, they can't expect me to run another maze like this, after all, Integrity thought, letting her worries fade.

  Galia began checking the monitors and bags hooked to Integrity. “Heart rate and blood pressure are good,” she said, not really talking to anyone. She checked a few more monitors, then moved to the opposite side of the bed. “How are you feeling?” she asked, changing a nearly empty bag of clear fluid for a fresh one.