Eclipse the Flame
Page 30
Because, in my revenge, in this new driving force that grows and grows, there’s no decency, no morality. I’m stripped raw and, in the flesh, in what is left, I am primal. I know no codes.
My need for revenge has become a cancer that seems to encompass more and more every day. Its fuel is hatred, and there’s a never-ending supply of it. I can feel its tendrils reaching, finding new targets, but keeping two in particular at the very top, at all times.
One: Elliot who has taken so much from me.
Two: Luke who stole any chance I ever had to make right with Karen—even if she wasn’t my real mother—and, above all, to love Xave for a full, happy lifetime.
Revenge suddenly is a beautiful word that rolls off the tongue, that matters more than anything else, that gives me lucid moments like this one—where the moon seems within reach, where it’s not the most beautiful I have ever seen, but it’s, at this moment, beauty itself.
I pick up a rock, test it in my hand, place it just so between my fingers. With a quick flick of my arm and wrist, I cast it against the surface of the lake. It skips four times, kissing the water and sending ripples that will go on for longer than I can imagine.
“Good shot,” Aydan says from behind me.
I whirl, heart thudding. “You’re here.” My voice breaks. I didn’t know if he would get my message, if he would come. Since I became Elliot’s savior, I can come and go as I please. Meeting with Aydan was the top priority on my list.
He’s pale under the moonlight; a figure carved out of wax, the planes and angles of his face symmetrical and strong.
I open my mouth to say something, but before any words come out, Aydan covers the distance between us and wraps me in his arms.
He doesn’t say a word. He just holds me, tighter and tighter until my body arches backward, and I can hardly breathe.
I don’t hug him back. I can’t.
Whatever relief I feel to see him doesn’t compare to his. The intensity of Aydan’s emotion is spelled in the curve of his arms, the strength in his muscles, the warmth of his cheek against my temple. There’s much in his embrace, and it freezes me, my thoughts, and a world of possibilities. And it could be one of those “most” type of moments, but I don’t know anymore, so I just take what I can from it and allow the burning flame of my revenge to grow dimmer and less important than the here and now.
I close my eyes.
“You’re okay,” he says, voice vibrating in his chest and against mine. “When I saw your message … I just …”
My skin begins to tingle. Something crackles. I open my eyes. A light glow traces Aydan’s shoulder. I lift a hand and stare at it in awe. My fingers are silhouetted in light, like tiny electric bulbs that could illuminate the world.
“Wow,” I say in a whisper.
Aydan pulls back, stares at my hand. His lower lip trembles. His eyebrows can’t decide whether to go up or stay down.
“That was …” he begins, sounding embarrassed.
“Beautiful,” I finish for him.
He smiles halfway. I do the same.
“I … we … thought you didn’t make it,” he says.
“Did James make it?” It’s all I want to know.
“He sends his regards and his thanks.”
A long exhale rushes past my lips. “Good. Good. I wished I’d known you were going to attack.” I don’t want it to sound like a reproach, but it does.
“I wanted to tell you, but—”
“No, you don’t have to explain. I understand. I’m just glad James trusted me enough to take a risk with the information I gave him. I wish we could have gotten to Elliot, though.” My voice betrays my anger. Something burns a little hotter inside me.
“Oh, we did,” Aydan says. “We got to him all right.”
I frown, confused.
He walks to the closest park bench and sits. With an extended hand, he invites me to take a seat next to him. I shake my head and shrug with impatience, demanding an explanation.
“He can’t be happy right now.” Aydan’s expression is satisfied; something I haven’t seen in a while. “All thanks to you. That list you gave us, we used it. Almost every single one of those reproductively capable Eklyptors is dead.”
My mouth falls open. “How? When?”
“The same night of our attack on his building. It was a concerted effort. James gathered as many people as he could and we all attacked at once. It had to be done that way. If we didn’t get to everyone at the same time, Elliot would have moved them, would have put them under tighter surveillance. With their deaths, he has lost decades. It’s a huge blow to his faction, if he can even boast of having much of one anymore.” Aydan’s smile is huge and satisfied—nothing halfway about it, now.
I’m smiling, too, and walking back and forth in front of him, eyes darting in every direction as I realize the magnitude of what he’s saying.
“He can’t grow in number anymore,” I say.
“No. And everyone he loses from now on is one more he won’t be able to replace, not for a while, not if we keep striking and do our best to stop others from reaching reproductive maturity.”
I think about it, frowning. It’s far from perfect. Too small of a victory.
Aydan seems to read my thoughts. “There are still many battles ahead of us. We just have to win most of them, and we just won a huge one.”
“I know that. But it seems so hopeless sometimes.” I finally sit, pressing my restless body against the bench’s cool metal. “Maybe we’ll get our city back, but what about the rest of the world? What about other factions? Hailstone may have a plan.”
I tell him about Lyra, how she rescued me, how they suspect Hailstone has some sort of grand plan, how it might involve me, all of it.
Aydan just nods, but he looks like he knows something.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. Just that James mentioned it. He’s aware of it and he seems to be worried. Worried enough to,” his voice breaks with too much hope, “ask you to come back. You’ve done your part. You’ve paid your dues. It’s time to think of yourself first.”
The irony of it is too much. This is what I’ve wanted all this time, and I now can’t.
“No. I have to do this. I have to keep fighting.”
“It’s not all up to you. I know you think you’re alone in this, but it’s not true. You have us. We’ll be your friends, your … family.”
I hide my face from him. I feel so broken inside, so consumed by this desire for revenge that I don’t even think friends and family could soothe the raw edges this fight has left on me.
“Everyone’s fighting, Marci,” Aydan continues. “The entire world. James also passed the list you gave us to his contacts in London. They weren’t as successful as we were. They didn’t get to everyone, but it was also an effective attack.”
“That’s good, but we need more from everyone. More than anything, we need a cure,” I say, hoping to veer the conversation in a different direction. I peer at him, knowing he can’t share this type of information with me.
“Yes, we do.” Aydan returns my gaze. His dark, dark eyes tell me nothing.
I look away and stare at my boots. Silence weaves itself between us. To my surprise, it’s a comfortable thing, like a blanket wrapping us in one single space.
After a moment, he asks, “Please, Marci. Come with me?”
Come with me. Not us. Me.
I want to believe that he doesn’t mean anything by it, but the hopeful tone in his voice makes me doubt. “I can’t,” I say. “I can’t.” Especially knowing that my work as a mole has had such an impact in this war.
“When, then?” he asks, and his tone suggests there may not be another chance.
But I’m okay with that. I have felt truly ready to die. That changes something inside of you.
I’m not the same person I was.
I am more, and I am less.
I am what I need to be.
Acknowledgements
&nbs
p; A huge thanks to Eleanor Ashfield for all the amazing input and attention to detail. It has been fun and a pleasure working with her and the amazing team at HarperVoyager. As always, I owe my family all the time they let me borrow from them to hammer away at the keyboard and type every word in this series. You guys are happiness itself.
I must always thank my friends Billie, Subu and Bret for being such supportive beta readers. Bret, thanks for always straightening my prepositions.
Lastly, I’d like to thank all the readers and bloggers who have supported me and have so enthusiastically cheered this project. Tony, Olivia, Sanovia, and many others. You guys are the best.
About the Author
When Ingrid Seymour is not writing books, she spends her time working as a software engineer, cooking exotic recipes, hanging out with her family and working out. She lives in Birmingham, AL with her husband, two kids and a cat named Mimi. She can be found on Twitter @Ingrid_Seymour
www.IngridSeymour.com
www.facebook.com/IngridSeymourAuthor
Also by Ingrid Seymour
Ignite the Shadows
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