I put my head in my hands. The video of Daniel came flooding back in my head.
Experiment.
Dying.
“Sprig, shut up.” Ryker lowered himself on the bed, lying back.
“But it smells like churros.” He sniffed the air. “I loooovvee churros.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I quickly looked at the floor.
“Sprig!” Ryker bellowed from the bed.
“What?”
“I said shut up,” he growled.
Sprig huffed and was about to turn his back to the Viking when he saw my face. “Wait. You cry?”
I had been crying a lot lately... for me, but only one person so far had seen me do it. The man across from me.
“What don’t you understand about shutting up?” Ryker sat up, glaring at Sprig. Ryker’s face was so severe even I scooted back in my chair. He never stopped being intimidating, but I could see past it—most of the time. Right now he was back to being terrifying. He could make a sumo wrestler cower in the corner with one look.
“I was merely asking.” Sprig crossed his arms in a huff, twisting away from Ryker. “Asshat,” he mumbled under his breath.
I swiveled in my seat to address Sprig. “Let’s say you are not the only experiment in this room.”
“What? They dissected you too?”
“Not exactly. They created me. From scratch,” I explained. “Unfortunately, I came with a defect. One that will kill me.”
It was strange to say it out loud, but it was true. At any moment my mind and body could decide it had enough. It had been only hours earlier I learned Daniel Holt Senior, under Dr. Rapava’s orders, created me in a lab.
“A seer egg and sperm from a donor were cooked in a tube and then mixed in a dish to produce stronger seer babies. But then something went wrong and the babies were born with a fault in their makeup. My makeup.” I swallowed, feeling the truth swell my tongue.
Daniel said most of the babies died right away, but a handful who did survive past their teens, including me, were slowly dying from this flaw. DMG had known about it and ignored the results and Dr. Holt’s objections. Dr. Rapava, who ran the DMG, would stop at nothing to produce a massive seer army to combat the threat of fae. Seers could see fae aura and were not fooled by their glamour, making them the perfect defense against a fae attack.
Like true experiments, the DMG sent the survivors out to be raised in different conditions to see the diverse effects on the subjects. Some were raised by families, some grew up knowing what they were, and some were tossed in an orphanage to deal with a harder life. I was the latter. Then I was bounced from foster home to foster home in some of the most sickening situations and conditions. I grew up hard, cold, and fucked up. Lexie, my foster sister, was the only one to save me from turning into a full-blown criminal.
Sprig stared at me, his mouth hanging open.
“Sprig?”
“Holyy buunnyy faarrttss!” He stretched out each syllable in utter shock. “Turtle dumplings! Are you kidding me right now, Bhean?” He plopped back again on his legs. “Sprite crumpets. I thought they messed me up.”
The reason Spriggan-Galchobhar looked like a cute little monkey was also thanks to DMG. He was once a sprite living in the Otherworld till one of my kind caught him and took their collection back to the lab. There Dr. Rapava dissected and experimented on him, creating the specimen in front of me: a sprite who would never be accepted by his kind again, and a monkey who could never fit in with other primates.
An outsider.
Like me. Like Ryker.
Ryker was one of the few Wanderers known to exist. A novelty. This made me wonder why Dr. Rapava had been willing to kill him earlier in the morning. Not that he’s easy to kill. Not with manmade weapons. But Collectors carry fae-designed guns. When we did need to shoot and not merely stun, it was to kill.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Now I feel awful.” Sprig flung his arms dramatically.
“Yeah, because this is all about you, furball.” Ryker snorted.
“Funny you bring it up.”
“Bring what up?” Ryker shifted and rolled over on his side.
“Me,” Sprig chirped, pointing to himself. “Because I am really hungry.”
If the little guy did it on purpose or not, it was the exact thing I needed—to smile.
“Come on.” I waved to Sprig, stretching my legs. “My stomach is requiring churros now.”
“No.” Ryker shook his head, standing. “We need to keep under the radar for a day or two. At least in the daytime.”
“I doubt they’re still looking for us.” I waved him off. “Plus, I can glamour them again.”
It was like watching a tiger prepare to strike. Muscles along his shoulders, neck, and jaw coiled, convulsing under his skin. “I don’t want you to use my powers.” His words came out low and forced. “The more you use them, the more they will adapt to you.”
I shifted back, leaning against the table. “Right,” I whispered.
“I’ll get us basics. Water, food.” He rubbed at the top of his head, his hair glistened with sweat. “When I return, we can come up with a game plan on what to do from here. But I think it will be a good idea to stay put for a while.”
I agreed.
“Seattle is far too dangerous. You are not only being hunted by DMG. If Marcello lived and you step foot back there, his gang wants you dead also. And we don’t need to mention the people after me.”
The gang, particularly Marcello himself, if he survived after Ryker bashed him in the head, would be pursuing Ryker more ruthlessly than me. Garrett was also out searching for Ryker. The list of people who wanted us dead or at least semi-alive was getting longer and longer.
“You want anything else?”
“Clothes.” I pulled at the thick, dirty leggings I was wearing. From my reading, I remembered the rainy season was just ending here, but the fresh rain from earlier hung in the air, holding in the humidity. The cotton contained my body heat, torturing the already suffocating skin. “Toothbrush. And batteries.”
I touched my bag; the video camera still lay snugly at the bottom. It was my last link to Daniel, to my origins, and the insane truth of my existence.
Ryker nodded and walked to the door.
“Wait!” Sprig leaped off the table toward Ryker.
“No. No way.” Ryker shook his head.
Sprig tugged on the bottom of his jeans. “Come on, Viking man. Let me come. My tummy can’t wait till you come back. If I don’t eat now, I swear I will keel over and die.”
Ryker tilted his head as if to say, hopefully.
I snorted. “Ryker, please take him. Otherwise he’s going to drive me insane. Right now I need five minutes in a bath. Alone.”
I never had a mother, but damn if I didn’t sound like one.
Ryker glanced at the ceiling and blinked several times. “Fine. You can come, but you have to stay quiet. And follow the roof lines.”
Sprig twittered excitedly, scaled Ryker’s body, and plunked himself on his shoulder. “Why would I need to follow you on the roofs when I got the tallest perch here? You tower over everyone in this village.”
Ryker’s gaze met mine; his face contorted with murderous rage.
“Come on, it’s not like having a monkey on your shoulder is strange here.” I shrugged, not hiding the smile on my face. Most people here probably wouldn’t notice the tiny monkey sitting on the large Viking’s shoulder. Sprig was no more than five inches tall. Five inches of soft dark brown fur, a sweet, little, round face, and huge brown eyes.
The Wanderer grumbled to himself and grabbed for the doorknob. “Lock this after me.” He slipped through and shut it behind him.
Stillness in the vacated room filled my ears, rubbing at my nerves. The distant activity from the streets below echoed up. I let out a heavy sigh. I thought I wanted peace and quiet and a moment to myself, but it was when my nightmares came to torment me. Day or night, it didn’t matter. Alone meant time with
my thoughts, with cruel memories.
THREE
I tugged the stretchy cotton off each leg. Sweat, blood, and dirt compelled them to stick to my legs with an adhesive grip.
The hot water was heaven on my skin. Even though cool water would have felt good, it had been too long since I had an actual hot shower. Even at the Red Cross, it had been no more than lukewarm. A month of grime washed down the drain and pooled around my feet before draining slowly out the bathtub.
There was no shampoo or conditioner, but I could wash my hair later. I needed to get the first layer of filth off me. A bar of soap sat on the side of the tub, and I tore into it, scrubbing fiercely at my skin. Bruises still coated my ribs, and cuts and scars glared at me in reminders of what I had been through. Only last night I had still been held captive by Marcello’s gang and forced to be in a street fight against another gang in a battle for dominance and territory.
Ryker had saved me, from the gang and from myself.
Dried blood I hadn’t cleaned off the night before stained my skin. Was it my blood or the girl’s I almost killed? With one more strike to her face I could have made her choke on her own blood. Suddenly my mind morphed the girl’s face into Lexie’s. My legs gave out, and I hit the bottom of the tub with a thud.
“Zoey, stop.” Lexie coughed, blood gurgling out of her mouth. “Don’t let me die.”
Razors slashed inside my gut. Lexie, my light, was gone. Burned to death in a house fire as a result of the electrical storm caused by fae more than a month ago. This lightning storm destroyed Seattle, taking it to its knees, and turning it to embers. Electricity destroyed the area for a hundred-mile radius surrounding the Emerald City. Thousands were killed, among them my former caretaker Joanna and... Lexie. I wasn’t there to save her. The outline of her wheelchair engulfed in flames haunted my every thought. I often woke screaming.
Lexie came into my life when I was thirteen. She was only four. A tiny thing, whose legs would never be able to hold her. From the moment she entered the house, I knew my life would never be the same. I was her mother, friend, and protector. I was the one who took her to school, doctors’ appointments, got her lunch and dinner, paid for her special shower equipment, and held her when she had a nightmare. I learned early she watched what I did more than listened to me. So if I wanted her to get out of the hellhole we were living in, I had to be better. I stopped hanging out with my so-called friends, stopped drinking and having random sex with guys for affection. I studied hard and got into college. The only thing I didn’t give up was my street fighting. It brought in too much money. And to be honest, I loved it. It was my release for all the pent-up anger and resentment I felt. The years of abuse and struggle disappeared for the one night. I could be this other person, the Avenging Angel. People respected and feared her. Like an actor on stage, I could let go of me and lose myself in a character.
I tilted my head back and let the water run down my face. My muscles unknotted, and my arms drooped. It took me a while to finish the shower, but I finally climbed out. The heat of the room dried my skin almost instantly. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me, glancing at the lump of cloth on the floor. “Right.” I had nothing to get into, and there was no way my clean body was going to put those hot grubby items back on. “Towel it is.”
I glanced in the mirror. My heart-shaped face was bruised and cut. Long tangles of wet chestnut brown hair hung past my breasts. My green eyes held too much sadness and anger for someone my age. I ran my fingers through my snarls. My cheeks were flushed from the shower. I didn’t look like a girl who was dying.
Dying...
A speck of an idea slowly began to form, then with a whoosh it flourished, crashing into my mind.
“Of course. Why didn’t I think of this before?” I expressed to the image in the mirror.
The reason I worked at DMG was to collect fae so the doctors could experiment on them. We were trying to save and cure humans of cancer and other defects with fae blood. I carried Ryker’s powers. They were adapting to me. Why wouldn’t it work on my defect?
For the first time since learning the news of my possible demise, optimism ballooned in my heart. Spinning around I reached excitedly for the door and yanked it open.
A large mass stood on the other side, filling the doorframe. His fist in the air.
“Ahhhhhh!” A scream tore from my throat as I jumped back. My towel slipped from my clasp and dropped to the floor. “Shit!”
Ryker stood frozen in place. His eyes taking me in.
“Shit,” I repeated again and scrambled to grab my towel. My hands fumbled, and it took me several tries to successfully clutch the towel and draw it in front of me.
Ryker never broke eye contact with my figure, causing my cheeks to flush hotter.
“What the hell, Ryker?” I wrapped the towel back around me, tucking it tightly in front. “Warn a girl.”
“I was about to knock.”
“You might be the size of Goliath, but, damn, you sneak up like a ninja.”
He leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes wandering brazenly down my form again. It stirred every nerve in my body. I glanced away, nibbling on my bottom lip.
“Fae aren’t embarrassed of the naked form.”
My eyes narrowed and flashed to him. “And how would you know? You were raised by humans.”
He smiled, half his lip hitched up on one side. “Instinct, I guess. It’s in my nature.”
“Is it in your nature to ogle?” I marched to him, meaning it as a challenge, but the moment I moved—mistake. I went into the “danger” zone between people, where it was no longer a safe conversational space, but intimate.
He kept his casual pose, but I saw him tense. His eyes went across the edge of my towel, and my skin prickled along my uncovered shoulders. Even being covered with a towel, he made me feel completely exposed.
His teeth tugged at his bottom lip, dampening it as he continued to watch me. Air departed from the room, forcing my lungs to work harder for air. Heat, not caused by the temperature outside, ignited my veins.
Neither of us moved, though somehow we were getting closer and closer.
Was this really going to happen? Was he going to kiss me?
I could feel his breath flutter, skating down my neck and tickling the space between my breasts. Oh, Jesus...
“Churros!” A cry came from the window. Ryker and I jerked back. “We have churros, Bhean.” Sprig bounced in the window and onto the table. “So good. I’ve already had two.”
A low growl arose from Ryker. “I am going to kill him,” he mumbled under his breath and turned, walking away.
Me too.
“Thank you.” I smiled tightly at Sprig.
His mouth was already full of the pastry, and sugar clung to his fur and nose. He shook the paper bag at me while reaching for another piece. An automatic smile lit up my face. It was impossible to be upset with him. I went over and rubbed his head, his huge eyes peered at me with adoration. Being petted while eating a sugary pastry equaled a happy monkey.
I reached into the bag and pulled out a warm doughy concoction. The sweet bread melted on my tongue. “Oh my God, it’s good.” My lids closed.
“I know. Right, Bhean?” Sprig garbled over the huge bite in his mouth. I was convinced he first started calling me Bhean, human in Gaelic, because he couldn’t remember my name. Now I couldn’t imagine him calling me anything else—a term of endearment.
Ryker tipped over a shopping bag onto the bed. “I got some clothes for you, some shampoo, and a toothbrush.” A tank top, shirt, pair of flip-flops, shorts, pants, toothpaste and brush, water, juice, and other items lay on the bed, even underwear and a sports bra lay in the pile.
“Wow.” I picked up the shorts. Damn! He even got my size right. “How did you know?”
He frowned, ignoring my question. “I figured anything else you need you can get yourself later.”
I put the shorts back down. “We need to figure out how we can repay th
ese people. Obviously, I’m not above stealing, but not here.” I did have a moral code. Deep down, but it was there.
“I agree.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline.
“What?” Ryker slanted his head. “Yes, even this deplorable fae has standards.”
“You are not deplorable.”
He looked over at me. “Really? And when did your opinion change?”
I couldn’t recall the moment when it changed, but it had.
“If you’re terrible, then I’m even worse.” I swallowed. “Have you beaten someone almost to death for the sheer pleasure of it?”
His gaze fixed on me for a long time. “Yes.”
For some reason his declaration rushed relief into my sour stomach. I wasn’t alone. Letting out a strangled laugh, I said, “We both are really fucked up.”
He snorted. “Yeah, we are.”
My heart noticed the way he said “we.”
A snore came from the table. I glanced over at Sprig, who was sprawled on the table, covered in sugar. He hugged an uneaten churro to his chest.
Another freak in our messed-up family.
Ryker took a shower while I changed into the clothes he bought: cotton army green shorts and a black tank top. While I waited for him, I stuffed myself with churros and orange juice. I tried to ignore when he came out in only a towel, grabbing his clothes before heading back in. I shoved my head into a pillow and groaned. A man’s body should not look like his.
I teased him by calling him a Viking, but there had to be some truth to it. Dark blond hair, white-blue eyes, broad shoulders, and toned arms only magnified his massive frame, creating an image of a Norse god coming to life. His fair skin was covered with tattoos, rolling down his arms, back, and ass. The man’s rear end was a godsend itself. And I couldn’t deny my fingers wanting to trail down the ripples of his abs.
Ryker’s presence demanded impure thoughts to enter my brain. This was typical fae—their appearance was the perfect bait to lure in humans. Fae were the perfect hunters, and humans would willingly take the bait. They used humans and consumed us for our life essence, whether it was through dreams, sins, or sex. For me, it was different. I knew what they were and how they used us. I appreciated their amazing physiques and faces but never saw past the true form or the fae killer inside.
The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) Page 2