Endless: Violet Eden Chapters: Book Four

by Jessica Shirvington

  He shook his head. ‘I’m coming to help you!’

  ‘No, Spence! Swear to me you’ll get him out. Swear it!’ I yelled.

  Spence’s eyes darted between Lincoln and me. ‘I’ll get him!’ he yelled back. ‘I promise, Vi. I’ll get him out.’

  He held my eyes. Spence would do as he promised.

  I turned back to the basement as total war broke out around me. I gripped my katanas and slashed at exiles that got in my way. I didn’t stop.

  I fell into the doorframe, using it to hold myself up. Before I’d righted myself completely, a hand grabbed my bleeding wrist from behind, squeezed tight and spun me around.

  He pushed me against the wall. The back of my head hit the sandstone hard and I felt fresh blood run towards my neck. His strength was surprising, but I wasn’t at my best. The small man, whose presence had troubled me earlier, restrained me as he placed his briefcase beside him and pulled an open vial from his inside jacket pocket.

  He smiled soothingly, pinning me to the wall. ‘It’s a problematic world we find ourselves in,’ he said with a heavy sigh. He looked forlorn and yet his eyes were alight when he looked back at me. ‘I’m simply fascinated by you.’

  ‘Who are you?’ I ground out.

  ‘That’s a complicated question. But on this occasion, a mere financier. And I must say, though not living up to my original expectations, it seems it may still be money well spent.’ He looked over his shoulder at the battle still raging. ‘I would’ve loved to spend some more time together.’ He placed the vial under my wrist and watched carefully as my blood flowed into it.

  He was patient as I struggled, but there was little I could do – my power was almost entirely spent, my strength gone.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I demanded as I squirmed.

  ‘Unfortunately, this is not the best time for a chat, but let’s call it research.’ He glanced behind himself again. He was going to run. It was a most un-exile-like trait, and yet, it wasn’t due to fear. It was worse … He was smart.

  I pulled on the dregs of my power, sending the very last from me, just enough to try and hold him for a few seconds. My mist floated right past him as if he were immune to it.

  His smile widened and he pulled back the large vial, now filled with my blood. I realised I had never had him under my hold at all. Like Phoenix, briefcase man had been pretending.

  He released me and I slid down the wall.

  He bowed in a gentlemanly fashion. ‘I do hope you survive.’

  I blinked and he was gone. He could’ve run, dawdled or disappeared into thin air. In my state, it was impossible to know.

  I picked up my sword and used the doorframe to force myself back onto my uncooperative legs. Another explosion rocked the room, the large chandelier falling with a crash, taking out whoever was beneath it. The far side of the room began to fill with smoke.

  Half walking, half falling down the basement stairs I moved on until the sound of fighting grew faint. Finally, I reached the bottom. I looked myself over, the bleeding at my side and my wrist beginning to slow, eventually you just run out of the stuff.

  It took everything I had just to breathe and stay upright.

  Phoenix was dead. Lincoln was lost. Everything was gone.

  The screams were repressed but they were there nonetheless, clawing at my throat, waiting to pull me down with them.

  I turned to the cages just as another massive explosion erupted. Concrete chunks started to fall from the ceiling. The thirty children who had not been spared by my arrows huddled in groups. When they saw me, they started to scream.

  Simon was standing up against the bars. Of course he was still there. I’d be willing to bet he’d insisted on staying with the others, even if he had been one of the children offered freedom.

  ‘Violet!’ he yelled, but it sounded more like a question.

  I tried to smile. It was unlikely it looked convincing.

  I scouted around for keys and finally found a set in a wall box. Staggering over to Simon’s cage, I opened his first. He reached me just as I started to fall to my knees. He stumbled under my weight but managed to sit me against the bars.

  I took his hand and pressed the keys into it. ‘Get them out.’

  His eyes connected with mine.

  Such a small boy. So brave.

  He nodded and started to unlock the other cages. A few minutes later all of the remaining children were huddled around me. They were free, but they still had to get out of the building.

  Another explosion shook the basement and more concrete fell.

  I gripped onto the cage and pulled myself to my feet, praying it would be the last time. I needed to be strong for them. I looked at the children.

  My vision was starting to blur but I could see the smoke that had started streaming down the stairwell.

  ‘Listen to me, this place is going to go,’ I gulped. The whole building was on fire. ‘Simon, take everyone upstairs. Stay low. Try not to breathe in the smoke. Everyone hold hands and stay in a line.’

  The children began to join hands. ‘Stay together,’ I ordered. ‘When you get up there, follow the hall. The front doors are at the end. Find a man called Griffin. Tell him … Tell him I sent you to him.’

  The children nodded.

  Good kids.

  ‘Go!’ I said. They started to move up the stairs in a line.

  ‘What about you?’ Simon asked, unsure.

  I forced a smile. ‘I’m right behind you.’ Then I nodded him on and he left. Finally, finally, I dropped to the ground, face down.

  When I could no longer hear their footsteps, I knew they had reached the top of the stairs. Tears welled with the relief of knowing that they would make it to safety. Griffin would look after them.

  Smoke filled the basement. I didn’t care. Time slowed down. I could see myself dying. I doubted I would come back this time.

  Only now, did I let myself think of him.

  I thought of our love, how much Lincoln meant to me. But even as my life drifted away, Phoenix’s last words – the ones he’d whispered into my ear – played back. Over and over.

  Is it even possible?

  I forced another fraught breath. All I wanted was for it to be over. I wanted to go away, to never have to fight again.

  But Phoenix’s damn voice kept whispering to me.

  What if? What if? What if?

  I growled, angry at him for doing this to me. It would be just like him to lie to me, to make me fight and live only to discover it was just another trick to force my hand.

  But still …

  What if there’s a chance it could be the truth?

  I’d once promised Steph I would fight with every last breath to survive, but how could I when every breath felt like a thousand deaths?

  The floor vibrated with another explosion. A large piece of ceiling crashed to the ground nearby. I could hear the crackling of the fire above. The building’s structure was starting to give. It could cave in at any moment.

  Oh, God. What if he was right?

  I cried out. Rolling onto my back, clawing at the ground, trying to grab hold of something, anything. Suddenly I was fighting to get to my knees and trying to pull myself up.

  But I was too weak. I fell back and closed my eyes.

  It was over.

  I had failed.

  I felt hands on my legs, on my arms. My eyes opened. Looking down on me from above was Simon and three of the other kids.

  No.

  ‘Get … o-o-out,’ I stammered.

  But they just crouched beside me and Simon shook his head. ‘And what would we say to God when he asks us why we left one of his angels behind to die?’

  ‘I’m not … angel,’ I tried to explain, because no matter what I wanted, I knew they would not be strong enough to carry me all the way out in the smoke and if they didn’t leave now, they would never make it.

  ‘Yes, you are,’ said the girl at my arm. It was Katie. ‘I dreamed an angel would save
us. It was you in my dream,’ she said, her eyes perfectly innocent.

  ‘So did I,’ said another girl at my leg.

  ‘So did I,’ said the boy at my other arm.

  ‘And I,’ said Simon.

  Everything started to go black. I tried to tell them to go again. I tried and tried.

  The next time I opened my eyes, I was being carried up the stairs by the children. Their strength alone was inexplicable, but even more so given the oxygen-starved air and unimaginable heat. Hell had found us and they faced it head on, fearless. I blinked.

  We moved through the burning hallway, the fire raging around us and yet, the children marched straight towards the belly of the flames as if they knew they would part.

  And they did.

  I realised then, it was my angel maker doing this.

  I closed my eyes again. It didn’t stop the flood of tears.

  I was carried out the front doors and down the steps. I could hear voices, orders being shouted, people running everywhere.

  Everything suddenly stopped. All the sound, all the movement. Still.

  Then a woman’s voice bellowed. ‘Clear their path!’

  The children began to walk again and I felt strong hands move under me.

  I could hear Griffin. ‘Hold on, Violet. Hold on!’ he said, over and over.

  I was put down on the grass and a figure crouched beside me. It was Josephine. It had been her voice I had heard. Our eyes met. Blood and soot covered her face. Oh, she’d been in the thick of it tonight.

  I wondered briefly if Josephine might end me there and then. But she just turned away and started calling out orders to someone behind her.

  ‘Get Evelyn! Tell her … Tell her her daughter is alive. And fetch the medics, now!’ She paused, then opened her mouth again. ‘You, you and you: she’s one of ours. Protect her!’

  She looked down at me. ‘You foolish girl. I don’t know how you killed her or how you’re still alive, but you’re damn well going to stay that way so you can explain it to me later.’

  How ironic, I thought, that just as Josephine had decided I’d proved myself to be one of them, I had realised that I wasn’t.

  She stood, issuing more orders as she moved away.

  Griffin stayed beside me as the medics started to wrap bandages around my wounds. I faded in and out of awareness. I could hear him talking to me, telling me to fight.

  Another body slid to the ground beside me. Hands grabbed at mine.

  ‘Violet,’ Evelyn cried, ‘I’m here, baby.’

  But I couldn’t speak.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  It was the most I could do.

  Evelyn seemed to understand, but she pulled me into her lap nonetheless and began to rock me back and forth. And then she told me the only thing that would make me want to keep breathing.

  ‘We got him out. I don’t know if it helps, but we got Lincoln out.’

  I didn’t know if it helped either. I didn’t know if it meant anything. The pain was crippling, almost breaking through my tenuous hold on life. I closed my eyes as my mother rocked me. I went within myself, down to the darkest corridor in my power, and found the switch at the very end. I glided towards it, something singing out, warning me to beware.

  I flicked the switch.

  ‘Thank you, Phoenix,’ I whispered.

  Everything went black.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  ‘The sadness will last forever.’

  Vincent van Gogh

  It was quiet. Early mornings were always the quietest time.

  I barely slept any more. Dreams brought little rest. I sat on my bed, looking out the window of my twelfth-floor apartment. The world moved on below, safe, for now.

  It had been three weeks since that night at the estate. We had been the victors. Funny that the pedestal came with no joy.

  I looked around my room. It used to mean home to me. Now it just reminded me of everything that I wasn’t. I stood up. I was strong again. It had taken over a week for them to release me from hospital. I had healed in days, of course – a fact Grigori doctors had kept hidden – but they’d insisted on keeping me in, sedated. They didn’t tell me why, but I knew they were all scared I would do something to myself.

  Dad or Evelyn had sat with me every day. Eventually, other visitors were allowed in, too. Steph had been the first. She cried and told me all the things that had been happening. She told me how sorry she was. I tried to listen, but stopped her when she started to talk about Lincoln.

  After that, others came, but I never spoke, even when Josephine turned up and stated that she still had questions. Part of me suspected she was tempted to imprison me and Evelyn again, but after everything that had gone down, there was no way she could do so and save face. On another, more generous level, I understood that Josephine was a true fighter. And when she looked at me now, it was different. She knew I could destroy exiles and to her, that made me worthy.

  She informed me the Grigori Scripture was in her possession and assured me it would never again fall into enemy hands. Frankly, it seemed dangerous enough that it was in hers.

  Her parting words were: ‘Your Grigori testing has been re-evaluated, to a unanimous pass.’

  I didn’t respond.

  Now, two weeks after Griffin had arranged my release from hospital and departure from New York, I was back home and stronger than ever, with both my angel maker’s power and Phoenix’s essence running through me.

  I hadn’t seen Lincoln. I hadn’t spoken about him, except to instruct Griffin that he would be coming home with us. Every now and then someone would mention him. I didn’t listen, just flicked the switch and tuned it out.

  Even when my angel maker came to me in my dreams, I’d discovered I could hit my new switch, blocking him out when he told me we needed to talk. Night after night, I sent him away. Wisely, he chose not to override my will. Yet.

  The coldness had remained. It seeped into my bones so I was frozen all the time. The only other thing I couldn’t stop as hard as I tried was my mind, despite the numbness. Over and over I relived the events of those final days and nights – all the choices made by so many different people and how those decisions landed me where I now was.

  Broken.

  I pulled on my hiking boots. The time had come. Dad was waiting for me and I couldn’t delay any longer. I walked out to the kitchen. Evelyn was there, cooking breakfast. Dad was lounging on the sofa, reading the paper. They were happy, in their way, but there was a sadness about them, too.

  Almost eighteen years had been stolen from their time together. Dad was only getting older while Evelyn looked young enough to be my sister. And it would only get worse.

  Evelyn came up to me with a plate of food. She was wearing cream pants and a navy silk shirt, her hair recently restyled to help her look older. She held out some scrambled eggs. I shook my head and looked away.

  Our relationship had changed. For some reason, right now, my parents ‘got’ me better than anyone else. Maybe it was the understanding of loss, the pain you can’t imagine unless you have felt it rip through your body and soul. But even as Evelyn put down the plate that only reminded me of Lincoln and wrapped her arms around me, I couldn’t return her embrace. Empathising, she backed away and I was grateful.

  Dad pulled up outside Lincoln’s warehouse.

  ‘I can come in with you,’ he said, again.

  I shook my head.

  He sighed. ‘Okay. Call me if you need me.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  Walking up the front steps, it was so familiar. For a couple of beats I let myself pretend it was normal. That I would knock on the door. That he would answer.

  I shut it down.

  It was a warm day, but I wore layers, wrapping them tightly around me, trying to keep the cold away. It was useless. The cold came from within.

  I stood on the threshold. I could sense people inside. It took me a long time to knock.

  Gri
ffin opened the door. He hadn’t known I was coming and his surprise showed. He held the door open and I walked in slowly, trying to keep my legs from buckling under me. Steph and Salvatore were in the kitchen. They stopped talking when they saw me.

  Steph automatically started towards me, but paused when she saw my closed expression. I hadn’t been able to talk to her at all. Nor to anyone, really, but especially her. Of all people, I knew she was the one I had to keep at arm’s length. I could tell it hurt her, but I think she understood.

  Spence walked out of his room, in old faded jeans and an equally faded red T-shirt, and stopped in the hallway.

  ‘Eden,’ he said as I passed.

  I didn’t reply. Couldn’t.

  I heard someone talking inside Lincoln’s bedroom. I stood at the open door. I didn’t look at the bed. Instead I focused on Dapper, who sat beside it. He was reading a book aloud.

  When he saw me, he stopped reading. I said nothing, so he simply closed the book, placed it on the bedside table, stood and left the room. His hand brushed my shoulder as he did.

  I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

  Every step towards the bed was shakier than the last. I looked down at him, my eyes finally seeing him. The air left my lungs and every muscle in my face ached.

  A feeding drip was connected to his hand. He was silent, like he was sleeping, but … he was not peaceful. He was not really there at all.

  I didn’t cry.

  I crawled onto the bed and curled up beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. I stayed like that, silently, for the rest of the day.

  Eventually, when the sun started to go down and the room became dark, I got back up and stood at the end of the bed.

  ‘I know you asked Phoenix to kill you,’ I said, my voice breaking on every word. ‘I know you two made your deals, but Phoenix isn’t here any more.’ I shook my head and made my way to the door, looking back at him once before I opened it. ‘Did you really think it would be that easy?’

  I left.