Forsaken (Broken City Book 2)

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Forsaken (Broken City Book 2) Page 8

by Jessica Sorensen


  As if my wish comes true, strong arms enclose around me and a solid chest presses against my cheek. Even though I have no clue who this person is, I clutch the front of their shirt.

  They fling their weight to the right, and I feel myself shifting directions. Moments later, the wind dies down, and I slowly descend until my feet touch the ground.

  “The poison wore off.” I breathe in relief. “Thank God.”

  “No,” Blaise says, and my eyes pop open.

  I tip my chin up and meet his gaze. He isn’t looking at me, but at something behind me. I twist around and then my jaw nearly smacks the ground.

  I didn’t return to reality. Blaise entered my dream.

  Chapter Ten

  Monster

  Blaise gapes at the torn up field, the demolished trees, and the rolling mountains that stretch as far as the eye can see.

  “Wow, I didn’t think I could do it.” He lets out an unnatural sounding laugh. “Holy shit.”

  I pluck strands of hair out of my mouth, relieved to see that the tornadoes have vanished. “What’s going on? Are we in dreamland? Are you real, or am I just dreaming you?”

  “You’re still in dreamland. I just managed to get in here with you. This is the first time I’ve actually physically enter someone’s thoughts before. Usually, I can only mentally control what they see.” He squints at the sunlight filtering through the clouds. “The blue sky.”

  I start to nod, but then pause. “Wait. You can control people’s thoughts?”

  His intense gaze glides to mine. “How did you think I was controlling what you were seeing?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t really think about it.” The idea that he can control thoughts is mind-boggling.

  He crosses his arms, staring me down. “Are you afraid of me now?”

  I shake my head. “No. It just seems so … I don’t know … out there that you can do that. I didn’t know that kind of stuff was possible.”

  “It’s not for most people,” he says with a simple shrug. “I’m just different.”

  “It’s a really good thing that you are.” I glance at a tree torn up from the roots. “Or else I think I might have ended up with all of my bones being broken.”

  His expression softens as he looks around at the trees lying sideways, the branches scattered everywhere, and the large clumps of dirt now covering the land. “Yeah, what were those things?”

  “Tornadoes.”

  “Tornadoes? What are those?”

  “When warm and cold air meet …” I wave myself off. “Never mind. I don’t know where I’m getting this stuff or if I’m even right. Information just keeps popping into my head.”

  “Maybe there’s a reason for that.” He stares at me for a heartbeat longer before taking in the scenery. “I can see why you like this place. It has a … calm way about it.”

  “Yeah, I guess it does.” I can’t seem to take my eyes off him. He can control people’s thoughts, kick holes through cars, climb down cliffs without ropes. What else can this guy do?

  “Allura, your staring is making me … I don’t know … uneasy,” he admits, fidgeting with a leather band on his wrist.

  I force my attention elsewhere. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about stuff.”

  “It’s okay. It just …” He cups the back of his neck, scuffing the tip of his boot against the dirt. “You kind of make me nervous sometimes.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Why do I make him nervous?

  “It’s not bad. I’m just not used to …” He grunts something under his breath then elevates his gaze from the ground, sweeping his hair back. “So what else is there to see around here?”

  I practically get whiplash from his abrupt subject change.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t really explore the area too much. Do we have time to?”

  He shrugs. “Probably. I mean, I don’t know how long you’ll be under, but we can walk around until you wake up.”

  I nod then face the forest, preparing to endeavor into the trees. Then I hesitate.

  “What’s wrong?” Blaise asks, stepping up beside me.

  “It’s nothing. It’s just that I’ve had a couple of memories of being in forests, and none of them are very good.”

  “Like what?”

  I blow out a breath and tell him about the first memory I had of the man chasing me through the forest, about the creature chasing me through the trees, and then about the men who shot me. I may not have technically been in the woods in that one, but I was headed there.

  “This makes no sense. You’ve had so many memories of the trees and this world,” he says after I’m finished. “Yet this place”—he motions at the land—“doesn’t exist in the world we live in.”

  I bite on my thumbnail. “Maybe it does, but you just haven’t seen it. The world is a big place, right?”

  “Yeah, but I’ve met a couple of travelers—Zaire’s actually one of them—and they’ve never spoken of a place like this.”

  “A traveler?”

  “The posts have a handful of them. They’re the people who get sent out to find and trade food and supplies.”

  I massage my arm where a tree branch nailed me. “Oh. I think the docks have them, too. Or, well, they have people who go and find food.”

  His brows knit. “How do you know about the docks?”

  “Ryder told me about them when we were at the post.” When his perplexity increases, I ask, “Did I get it wrong? Are there no travelers on the docks?”

  “No, there are … Well, the people from the docks don’t refer to them as travelers, but they’re pretty much the same thing.” He chews on his lip, sucking on the barbell. “It’s just that Ryder usually doesn’t talk about the docks with strangers.”

  I feel a sting of hurt. I’m a stranger? I mean, I know the guys don’t know me that well and vice versa, but I don’t consider us strangers. Maybe I was wrong, though. I don’t know much about what makes a stranger become a friend.

  “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that,” he hurriedly says, noting my hurt expression. “I just meant that Ryder doesn’t talk about the docks a lot, so I’m just a little surprised he told you about it already. It usually takes him a while to trust someone before he opens up about that part of his life.” He huffs out a frustrated breath, shaking his head at himself. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. Ryder is always telling me I suck at communicating.”

  I stare at the spot in front of my feet at a tiny, yellow flower sprouting from the grass. “It’s okay. I get it. You hardly know me.” Tears pool in my eyes. I don’t even know why I’m crying. I just suddenly feel so lost and alone in a big, scary, unfamiliar world.

  A slow breath eases from his lips. Then he threads his fingers through mine and pulls me to his side. I have a feeling the gesture means more than I can even comprehend.

  “I completely understand if you don’t want to go into those trees.” His fingers tremble, but he doesn’t pull away. “But if you want to go exploring in there, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I glance down at our interlocked fingers and then at the trees. “Okay.”

  He almost smiles then steps toward where the sunlight meets the shade of the trees. “So, what’s usually in this sort of place?” he asks as dry, crisp leaves float around us. “And what the hell are these things?”

  “Those are leaves.” I contain a giggle as he flicks a leaf off his shoulder. “They fall off the trees when it’s autumn.”

  “Autumn?”

  “It’s a season. You know, summer, winter, spring …” I trail off as he gapes at me. “Oh, there are no seasons in the red sky world?”

  His lips quirk in semi-amusement. “Is that what you call our world?”

  “I don’t know what else to call it. Do you guys have a name for it?”

  “No. We usually just refer to it as our world. And of course, the city is the broken city.”

  “I’m nervous to go to the city,” I admit as we hike
deeper into the woods, leaves and twigs crunching underneath our boots. “It sounds kind of scary.”

  “It is scary.” He glances up at the sunlight sneaking through the branches above us. “But you won’t really be in the city. You’ll be in the station, and the station is probably one of the safest places there is.” When my finger twitches, he looks down at our interlinked hands. “You’re scared? Why?”

  “It’s nothing.” But my shaking hands say otherwise. “I’m just a little bit nervous that Lex will eventually be at the station.”

  He grinds to an unexpected halt, his head whipping in my direction. “Who told you about that?” His harsh tone sends a shiver through me.

  “Reece,” I answer nervously. “I’m sorry if he wasn’t supposed to. It’s really not his fault, though. I was asking him a bunch of questions.”

  He grinds his teeth. “I was going to tell you. I just wanted to wait until we were far away from the East City Post before I did.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. Reece explained that you guys wanted to wait until we were farther away so I wouldn’t get scared.”

  “No. It’s not okay. I’m usually not like this.” He rubs his free hand across the shaved side of his head, shifting his weight. “I’ve always been a blunt person. I don’t sugarcoat shit. That’s Reece and Ryder’s thing, not mine.”

  “I know. You told me,” I say, puzzled by his anger.

  Is he mad at me, Reece, or himself?

  “And you’ve been really honest about a lot of stuff.”

  “The last few days, I haven’t. The last few days, I’ve watched almost every single word that’s come out of my mouth.” His forehead creases as if his own words confuse him. Then he blinks, erasing the look, and starts walking again, pulling me along with him.

  I want to ask him why he’s so upset, but I worry that will only add fuel to the fire. So, I keep my lips zipped and struggle to match his long, determined strides.

  “I locked them in their own mind,” he abruptly announces as we weave around an ancient oak tree smack dab in the middle of the forest.

  Something about the tree sends my senses into a frenzy. I want to run up to it and breathe in the scent of the leaves.

  “Locked who in their mind?” I ask distractedly.

  What would happen if I plucked a leaf from a branch and ate it?

  I shake my head at myself. What a strange, stupid thought.

  “Lucille and Maxx. After they hurt you, I went back into that room and filled their minds with their darkest nightmares,” Blaise says matter-of-factly.

  My attention snaps from the tree to him. I don’t know whether to be afraid or not. It seems like maybe I should be, yet I don’t feel an ounce of fear inside me.

  “How did you lock them in there?”

  “Fear can be a powerful thing.” He shrugs, staring at the dry leaves covering the muddy ground. “Put enough in someone’s mind, and it can completely take them over.”

  “Will they ever escape?”

  “Maybe. But I really hope they don’t.” His gaze shifts to me. “Are you afraid of me now? Do you think I’m a monster?”

  I shake my head with almost zero deliberation. “No.”

  He searches my eyes for something. “Are you sure? Because some people are.”

  I easily nod. “Do you want me to think that way of you?”

  “I don’t know what I want.” He scratches at his neck, squinting at the bark of the willow tree. “Wait. What is that?”

  I track his gaze to a spot where A&P has been carved into the bark. Stepping forward, I lift my hand and place my palm over the inscription.

  “Allura and Pierce,” I utter as memories twirl in my mind.

  “Now the whole forest knows I love you.” A guy smiles at me as he tosses the knife onto the ground. Then he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, his gaze dropping to my lips. “You know that, right? That I love you?”

  I smile at the engraving, but then my smile falters. No. I can’t let him kiss me. I don’t even know this man. Or maybe I do know him …

  I turn my head and take in his shaggy brown hair, his freckled nose, and his deep brown eyes that are lit up with so much happiness and love.

  His smile vanishes. “What’s wrong?” His eyes widen. “Oh, dear, did I misread you? I thought you felt the same way, but I …” He looks away from me, trying to hide the hurt in his eyes.

  I want to comfort him, tell him I love him, too, but I can’t make the connection. Frustration builds inside me.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t—”

  Gunfire yanks me back to reality—or dreamland, anyway. Shock instantly makes my body run deathly cold, like ice in my veins.

  Blaise and I are no longer standing in the forest, but in a familiar field enveloped by trees. Men are shouting over the slamming of horses’ hooves, and a thick fog hangs in the air.

  No. No. No. No. This can’t be happening.

  But it is, and now I have to relive getting shot.

  Another thought occurs to me, and my fear amplifies. Oh no! What if Blaise gets shot, too! Will he actually be shot? How does dreamland work exactly?

  “Fire!” a man yells, and I instinctively lunge for Blaise, wanting to protect him.

  But he grabs ahold of me and dives to the ground on his back so I land on top of him. He doesn’t miss a beat, flipping us over and covering my body with his.

  “I don’t know what’s happening. For some reason, I’ve lost control of the dream.” Propping up on his elbows, he scans the tall grass around us.

  “They’re coming from the north.” An icky feeling gnaws at me as I replay the outcome of this memory … dream … whatever this is. Blaise is going to hear the men yell those horrible things about me. What if he somehow puts two and two together and figures out what I am? “And there’s one by the river, just east.”

  His gaze lowers to mine, his brows dipping. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve seen it before,” I whisper over the gunfire. “It was the dream I was in right before you put the images of the cloudy sky in my mind. Only, this time, it feels different … more vivid and real.”

  Tension ripples in his muscles. “This is the dream where you’re shot?”

  I nod. “These people are hunting me … because I’m … different.”

  Blaise stares down at me with a mixture of inquisitiveness and uncertainty. Worried he’s going to abandon me, my fingers curl inward, and I grip the front of his shirt. Sensing my movement, he glances at my hands, and then his gaze resides on my face.

  “Allura, I’m not going to leave you.” He speaks slowly, stressing the importance. “I’d never do that to you, no matter what’s about to happen.”

  I smash my quivering lips together, thinking of the man on the horse riding in the river. We knew each other, had feelings for one another, yet he shot at me.

  “She has to be around here somewhere,” a man bellows from nearby.

  Blaise starts to raise his head, but then ducks down and lines his body against mine. His body heat is so suffocating I can scarcely breathe. I can’t recall the last time someone was this close to me besides when Blaise and I were in the trunk of the car. Even then, he kept a little distance between us, unlike right now.

  I wonder if our nearness makes him uneasy, as well. He told me that he doesn’t like being touched, yet we’re practically touching each other in every way possible.

  “Just stay calm,” he whispers raggedly in my ear. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let you get shot again.”

  “Allura, we know you’re out here, so you might as well come out,” a different man speaks, his voice tugging at my memories and my heartstrings.

  The man from the river. The man I think I loved once.

  A loud exhale falters from my lips as the footsteps grow closer.

  Blaise rests his forehead against mine and places two fingers to my lips. “Sh …” he whispers.

  I loop my arms around him and
quietly breathe through my nose. In and out. In and out. Just calm down.

  “Over here!” a deep voice rumbles as a shadow casts across us. “She’s not alone, either.” A middle-aged man with jet black hair appears above us.

  He leans down to snatch ahold of the collar of Blaise’s leather jacket then yanks him off me and shoves him to the side. Two younger men step up and grab Blaise’s arms, holding him back.

  Irritation flickers across Blaise’s expression, but he doesn’t fight back, his eyes burning into mine.

  “Just stay calm,” he mouths. “I’ll get us out of this.”

  “I don’t know why you try to run.” The older man steps in front of Blaise, blocking him from my view. He crosses his arms and stares down at me with pure hatred in his eyes. “You only make it harder on yourself. You always do.”

  Tears prickle at my eyes, but I suck them back, refusing to show weakness.

  He hitches his thumb around his leather gun strap and slings his gun over his shoulder. “If you would just stop running, this could all be over. But you run every time. You’ve spent an entire lifetime running and going back and forth to places you don’t belong. Aren’t you getting tired of it? Don’t you just want to sit still for one second?”

  When I don’t answer, he wraps his fingers around my wrists and tugs me to my feet.

  “It’s always a battle with you, but I guess it’s not your fault. You do have Grim blood in you.”

  I feel like I’ve been punched in the throat, my windpipe tightening and restricting my airflow. I look away at the forest, unable to bear the hatred and disgust I know are in Blaise’s eyes.

  “And now you’ve dragged this poor guy into your mess, just like you did my son,” the man says as he drags me toward a large group of armed men.

  Most of them are wearing trousers tucked into leather boots and wool coats. Some are holding guns, while others are grasping the reins of their horses. Everything from the grassy field, to the fog, to their outfits, to the open space feels outdated.

  I glance down at myself, wondering if I’m wearing the long, black dress again, but strangely, I’m not.

  “I tried to warn him what you are, but he’s too damn stubborn, just like his mother.” The man constricts his grip on my wrist, casting an annoyed glance over at the river where a guy is sitting on his horse.

 

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