by E. J. Mellow
I frown. “What? Why?”
“Because we can’t just be friends.” He breathes out a laugh. “And you know it. No one else would have changed that, and I was angry that you were making me try.”
I press my hands into the sand. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. None of that matters anymore.” He brings his arm around me, scooting me closer. “This is real now, me and you. You’re my irreplaceable midnight.” He places a kiss to my temple.
My heart flutters from his words, and I can feel the deep blush creep across my cheeks. “But what about Aurora?”
“What about her?”
“Weren’t you on a date tonight?”
He stills, a beat of quiet before he’s tipping his head back and laughing.
“Dev!” I push his shoulder. “I’m not joking.”
He takes a little longer to compose himself, but when he does he turns to me with an amused grin. “Let’s just say that Aurora would be more into your company than mine.”
“What do you mean?”
One of his brows quirks up. “Do I really need me to spell it out for you?”
My eyes widen. “Oh. Oh!”
“Yeah, exactly. Oh. And that’s probably a sound she’d love to hear you to make too.”
“Oh my God!”
“And that.”
“Dev!” I kick sand at him. “Real mature. Are you sure you’re not twelve?”
He smiles, pleased with himself. “Pretty sure.”
“But I thought you two…ya know.” I incline my head.
“We what?”
“Ya know. Did it,” I whisper.
“Did it?” He leans back, laughing again. “Who’s the twelve-year-old now?”
“Ugh, never mind.” I turn away.
Dev stifles a chuckle before reaching over and brushing back my hair. “Do you really want to talk about me and Aurora?”
“No, but I want to know your past, Dev, even if it might suck to hear.” I’m leading him, corralling him into possibly sharing more than just Aurora.
His eyes study mine. Whatever he searches for he seems to find, because on a sigh he says, “Okay.”
Okay? My chest flutters in anticipation, and I sit up.
“Yes, Aurora and I have been intimate in the past.”
I swallow, unsure how I feel about this. “But she likes girls?”
“Yes, but also enjoys a male’s company once in a while.”
“Meaning yours?” I ask dryly.
“Not just mine, but as you know”—he leans with a crude grin—“I am hard to resist.”
I roll my eyes. “Right.”
“Yes, I am. But in all seriousness, we were intimate for a short period of time, which was a very long time ago and only because of…certain circumstances.”
“What do you mean? What circumstances?” I try to keep my voice calm.
Dev glances my way, hesitancy in his eyes—a shadow from the past flickering through them, and I’m about to tell him never mind when he speaks. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Aurora’s a Vigil.”
I always thought there was something different about her. Now it makes sense. “Then why is she a Nocturna guard?”
“I have to start farther back to answer that.” Dev focuses on the Sea in front of us. The light emanating from it basks his face in a soft blue. “Aurora’s unique in many ways, the first being that she’s a twin. Now you have to understand something to get why that’s a big deal. We’re not born like humans. We can’t conceive like you can. We’re a very balanced population only created when there’s a need. A death causes a life, or Terra senses a growth of Metus, et cetera. Our world is a scale always meant to remain still, balanced.”
I blink, astonished. “Then how are you guys made?”
“There’s a place called the Nursery, but that’s a whole other conversation that we’ll have to save for later.”
“Okay.” I nod, remembering Aveline mentioning her time at the Nursery, but not realizing its greater importance.
“Because of the sensitive way our population is controlled, we’re normally created as individuals. There have been twins in the past, but it’s very rare, and when it happens, the bond between the two, be it Nocturna or Vigil, is extremely strong.”
“Like siblings,” I say.
“Yes, I suppose like that.”
“So wait, do you have parents?”
“No, not in the traditional sense, at least.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some of us find parent-type figures—Tim, for example. I’ve known him for practically my entire life, and he’s grown into a guardian role for Aveline and I, though we never asked him to.” Dev grins to himself. “I imagine the love I have for him is similar to the love you have for your parents.”
“Yes.” I intertwine my fingers with his. “I imagine it is.” Even though I’m extremely happy that these three found each other, I can’t help feeling a bit sad knowing he’ll never get to experience fatherhood in the biological sense, that no one here will. I also try not to think about what this might mean for our future, if there indeed is one.
“Because of this bond,” Dev continues, “it’s hard for twins to be away from each other for long periods of time. I’m not sure what exactly causes this, maybe because they’re created from the same energy, but twins in Terra need to be close to one another.”
“Is Ezekial Aurora’s brother?” Thinking about her partner, I frown. They look nothing alike. He’s all dark curly hair and tan skin.
“No.” Dev looks down before meeting my gaze. “Aurora’s brother was Aaron.”
I balk. “Aaron? As in Anebel’s partner, Aaron? The one who disappeared?” I snap my mouth shut, not meaning to say that out loud—her name out loud. Shit.
Dev flinches ever so slightly. “I see that Aveline left no rock unturned.”
“Sorry.” I grimace.
He turns to me, his stare intense. “Listen, I was going to tell you eventually, about…my past. I just didn’t think it would be the same day we started this.” He gestures between the two of us.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want. I’ll understand,” I say, even though I really, really want him to.
“No, I want to…I just…I can’t tell you everything right now.”
“That’s all right.” I squeeze his hand reassuringly, and he squeezes back.
“But yes, Aurora’s brother was Aaron and…” He hesitates. “Anebel’s partner. Nocturna and Vigil are both raised in the Nursery. That’s where Anebel and Aaron first met and became friends. She was training to be a Nocturna guard, and I think that’s what made him want to be one too. He never took to the lessons that were meant for Vigil, insisting a Nocturna guard was all he was going to be or he’d be nothing at all. I’m not exactly sure what went down politically, but because they were twins, I think certain…liberties were given for both of them to try out.”
“Both? Aurora wanted to be a guard too?”
“No, not really, but she couldn’t be without her brother. Like I said, the bond is extremely strong. If she weren’t a Nocturna guard, they would have spent large amounts of time separated from one another. It wasn’t an option.”
“Wow.” I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a bond that powerful, not to mention what happened to her when she lost him. “So they both passed?”
“Yes.” Dev nods. “And it caused quite a stir. No other Nocturna wanted to be paired with him. They were angry that a Vigil was given a chance at our duty when it’s pretty much impossible for a Nocturna to guard the Dreamers when they’re awake. Aaron specifically was ridiculed, cast as an outsider. Anebel—” Dev’s words catch in his throat, and he turns toward the Sea. My stomach twists hearing the love still in his voice when he says her name. “She defended Aaron, and to prove that the naysayers were being a bunch of Metus heads, partnered with him.”
A heavy silence settles in, Dev obviously replaying his past and me trying to imagine
it.
“Were you in the Nursery at the same time as them?”
“For a period, but I’m older and graduated to the city a few years before. We were all close though, the four of us. And after what happened—” Dev swallows, and I want to hug away his sorrow. “After what happened, Aurora and I found solace in each other for a time, made sure the other kept breathing. There were moments where I didn’t think either of us would make it. She’s definitely grown weaker by the separation, but luckily she was strong to begin with,” he says with a small smile.
I suddenly feel silly sitting next to Dev, holding his hand. How is our bond anything like what he had with Anebel or even still has with Aurora? I know I shouldn’t be comparing, shouldn’t be feeling insecure, but I can’t help it. The stupid, lame, immature part of me is crying in the corner, feeling rather worthless. Dev and I barely know each other compared to his past relationships.
“Don’t.” Dev tugs on my arm.
I frown. “Don’t what?”
“I see what’s turning in your head. That was my past, Molly. It will always be a part of who I am, and I’m glad for that. But you”—his blue eyes dance with the reflected colors of the Sea—“you’re my future.”
I take a deep breath, at a loss for words, which luckily isn’t a problem, because at that moment Dev leans down and kisses me.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself closer, loving how his scruff grazes my skin and the possessiveness of his hands as they roam along my body.
A low humming interrupts our moment, and we break apart to see a vehicle zooming across the sand to meet us. We stand, watching it approach.
“Alec?” I walk up to the car as he jumps down. “What are you doing here?”
His close to seven-foot form thumps toward us, his heavy footfall puffing up sand with each step. “I tried beeping you guys, but the Sea must be messing up the connection.”
Dev walks to our car and fiddles with the console screen. “Yeah, the signal is all screwy. Sorry about that.” He turns back to Alec. “But what’s so important that it couldn’t wait?”
“Elena wants to see Molly.”
“I already did my lesson with her today,” I say, confused.
“She wants another Memory session before you leave tomorrow. She seemed rather insistent upon it actually, so we need to head back.”
“Okay, okay.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t need to be pushy. We get the hint.”
“But I wasn’t hinting at anything.” Alec frowns. “I’m saying we need to get going.”
Dev and I share a look.
“Okay, big boy.” Dev slaps Alec on the shoulder. “We hear you loud and clear. Lead the way.”
We all turn to our cars and stop short. My blood freezes as the wretched stench of death floods the air.
“Where are they?” I glance around at the maze of giant boulders in front of us. All is still, but they could be hiding anywhere in there.
“They’re close, wherever they are.” Dev already has his Arcus out, Alec a double-barreled shotgun that pulses blue. Whoa.
“Should we get to the cars?” As soon as I ask, burning orange forms blink on in the distance, surrounding our exit.
“Collö,” Dev curses, and both he and Alec step in front of me. Peeking through them, my mouth goes dry as I watch Metus—dozens of them—popping up from the rocks and tumbling down. None pause as they run straight for us.
— 24 —
THEY BARREL FORWARD in the distance, and with every step closer their stink grows stronger and stronger—an attempt to blot out our hope for survival.
“We have enough time to get to the cars,” I say, backpedaling.
“There’s too many.” Dev notches three arrows at once. “They’d overtake us.”
“So what? We’re better out here?”
Dev glances my way, his mouth tilting up at the side. “We’ve got this, Dreamer.”
“Stay behind us,” Alec instructs, his massive form seeming to get even bigger.
“Um, yeah, screw that.” I wedge my way between them. “It’s you two that should be getting behind me.”
“Confident little one, isn’t she?” Dev says to Alec, who merely grunts his displeasure.
Ignoring them both, I concentrate on the football field length of sand separating us from the monsters. Taking in a deep breath, I lift my hands, allowing the Navitas within me to spread and expand, taking over every cell. Then quickly I suction it back in, forming it into a concentrated ball. At the precipice of the gathered energy, I sharply exhale, dropping my arms. The ground rubbles, and a large fissure opens beneath the first wave of Metus, swallowing a handful. The chasm expands, separating us from them.
“Whoa,” Dev breathes. “Definitely glad I’m on your side.”
My confident smile is short lived when the remaining Metus merely jump over the gap, continuing their charge.
“Shit,” I say, counting at least eighteen heading our way.
Dev lets loose his arrows, dropping a handful with a sickening wet explosion, and that’s the last thing I register before chaos collides.
Breathing out of my mouth—so as not to gag on the stench—I hold off two creatures. Working hard to conserve my strength, I strike only when there’s an easy opening, dancing around their dripping claws and spewing fire.
Alec’s gun goes off in patterned bursts behind me, each time echoing a wet hit, and it’s like music to my ears knowing he’s okay.
Dev is a blur of movement in my periphery, seeming to have moved on to the decapitating way of fighting. I’ve come to realize he prefers this method, and I’m not really sure what that says about him. An oncoming Metus refocuses my attention as it starts chucking pieces of flesh at me. I meet it head on with my own flaming balls of Navitas. Shooting them from my hands, I hit it square in the chest and don’t stop until it’s burning blue and white and bursting apart.
The three of us repeat this exhausting dance until I realize our numbers are now five. Two more Nocturna have entered the fight, the closest ones guarding the Sea of Dreams.
“Thank God,” I breathe, finally allowing myself to feel hopeful, yet still the Metus come. A few drop to their lava forms, and I jump back, surprised when one of the new Nocturna sprays them with bright liquid from a holster strapped to her back. By the almost blindingly bright energy being shot out, I realize it’s Navitas straight from the Sea. My cells scream in yearning. As soon as the Metus puddles are hit, they cry out in a sharp wail and quickly bubble away, cells being devoured by acid. Holy third-degree burns. Remind me to stay clear of that stuff.
Turning around, I run toward Alec, who’s now fighting three alone. I’m breathing heavy knowing I’m reaching my limit but refusing to acknowledge it. Ignoring the pain gathering in my head, I shoot out a wall of energy, barely registering the one Metus being wiped away by it, since I’ve already moved on to another. Alec reaches for more ammo as I engage, giving him time to recharge, and as I push to simultaneously hold off the second beast, my mind suddenly bursts in white-hot agony.
With a scream, I collapse to the ground, momentarily blinded by pain. Another gurgling cry surrounds me, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s not my own. Stomach in my throat, I look up, seeing one of the Metus holding Alec in a death grip, its mouth suctioned to the side of his neck. Alec’s dark skin has turned ghostly, and his eyes blaze with agony as he continues to scream and scream and scream.
“NO!” I shuffle to my feet, wobbling slightly, and attempt to use what little power I have left to separate them. With a grunt, I push a burst at the monster’s head. The hit manages to release its feeding but not its grip. “GET OFF HIM!” I desperately shoot out more, knife-sharp torture splintering my skull. The creature’s burning liquid form has almost completely covered Alec, and the pain must be too much. He’s gone unconscious in its grasp. Something deep and dark sparks on in my chest, seeing him like this, and with newfound strength I call forth a rod of lightning. With it floating in my
palm, I run up to the Metus and stab it in the head. With a yell, I keep jabbing long after it bursts apart, bits of lava burning my skin, my clothes—the stench bringing tears to my eyes. I keep stabbing even when there’s nothing left in my hand.
“Molly.” Dev lifts me into his arms. “It’s gone. You killed it.”
I blink and push away from him. “Alec! We have to help Alec!”
I’m pulled back again, but I fight his grip. “Molly, stop! Alec is—we can’t help him.”
I refuse to hear his words. No no no no no. It’s my fault. My fault!
A glowing mass slowly stands in my periphery, and I turn to see a newly formed Metus, one that still partly resembles a man.
“No,” I whisper, and Dev tries to keep me back as I move forward. “Get off of me!” I shove him away and stand before the beast.
The creature growls, moving awkwardly in its new body.
“I’m so sorry,” I say on a sob, tears blurring my vision. “I’m so sorry, Alec.”
It takes a step toward me, a hunger in its eyes, and I raise the ground by its feet, tripping it. Splayed on the sand, I hold it down by shooting cords of Navitas to wrap around its appendages. The Metus, once Vigil, howls in frustration and spits fire.
“Let me do it.” Dev says by my side, and I shake my head.
“Don’t touch him.”
“Please, Molly, let me do this for you.”
“No!” I push at him. “Just—just let me try.” Tears keep streaming down my face, and I wipe at them roughly. Staring at the Metus—at Alec, because I know he’s in there somewhere—I change to the sight of energy, slowing time. The thing grunts, claws, and wriggles before me, but I see it—I see the once-bright soul of a Vigil buried beneath the sludge. Holding out my hand, I dare to do what I was terrified of before. I touch its energy, his energy—the seed of Navitas still connecting this thing to the world.
When my power locks with the beast’s, I experience something that I know no other Dreamer has ever felt for a Metus before—pity. Pity because I can feel the torture of existing as one of these things, the nightmare within a nightmare and the sense of relief when it knows it’s almost over. Is this the small part still left of Alec, or is it in every Metus? Either way, I have empathy, empathy and a desperation to find the light that I know is hiding somewhere deep inside, the soul that has to still belong to my friend. On a large intake of air, I transfer the energy found in my own body to his, and with mine weakening, I notice his light getting stronger.