Night Resurrected

by Joss Ware

  They mulled over the prospects of what to use for the ambush and when to do it—when Remy was surrendering herself later tonight under cover of twilight, or during the day, well before the so-called witching hour. She didn’t participate, and neither, she noticed, did Wyatt. Instead, he watched the proceedings with his inscrutable expression, casting an occasional glance at her.

  Someone knocked and Wyatt, in his customary position, checked and then opened the door to admit Cat. She’d taken Dantès to the computer lab and was only now returning—but with some urgency.

  “There’s something going on out there,” she said, looking at Wyatt and then Vaughn. “I heard someone shouting ‘Fire!’ And there was a lot of smoke coming from near the kitchen.”

  “I’ll go,” Elliott said, and Jade rose to follow him. Fence was in their wake, but Wyatt didn’t move.

  “It’s a fire,” Cat said, looking at Wyatt. “They might need you. What if someone’s trapped?”

  He gave a brief nod and glanced at Remy, then the rest of the room. “I’d better go check it out. Be back as soon as I can.” He looked at Cat. “You going to show us where?”

  “Yeah,” she said, and slipped out the door.

  The dangerous blaze in the kitchen turned out to be a small fire in a metal wastepaper basket stuck in the corner not too far from the restaurant area. Cat seemed properly embarrassed about raising the alarm, but Wyatt was too distracted to be annoyed.

  It was the perfect opportunity.

  As soon as he was assured everything was under control and no one needed to be dragged from a fiery room, Wyatt found what he needed and slipped off to the computer lab on his own. Confident that Remy was safely in the custody of the others, he knew he had the time to do what had to be done.

  Up, up, up, down. He pushed the buttons and the old elevator doors slid open. The spiral staircase was revealed and down he went.

  Dantès greeted him with a whine and a lick, and Wyatt took the time to hug him back, accepting a few good swipes from a canine tongue. The dog, as always, made him feel calm and at home. Loved.

  After a moment Wyatt stood. He looked around and confirmed what seemed obvious: no one was here. That would make things so much easier.

  He knew where the crystal was kept—in the second room, stored in a file cabinet. One of the drawers held the piece of Jarrid stone that Quent and Zoë had stolen. Another drawer contained the Mother crystal, currently wrapped in asbestos he’d removed from the semi-truck cab’s brakes. He had no idea if the asbestos did anything to contain the crystal’s heat or otherwise mask it, but he figured it was worth a try in case it started to burn again. Not that it would matter for much longer.

  Placing the crystal on the surface of a sturdy table, Wyatt unwrapped it. It sat there, orange and glowing, unassuming in its width and breadth. Hard to believe it held so much power; it was hardly larger than his thumbnail.

  He hefted the sledgehammer in his hand, looking down at the object that, if destroyed, would save countless lives—not only the people of Envy, but anyone else who would ever get in the way of the people who sought it.

  Remy.

  The memory of her face rose in his mind. Strained and frightened, heavy with knowledge. Acceptance.

  He gritted his teeth. She wouldn’t have agreed to do what he was about to do, for the same reason that she’d decided to give herself up to the Strangers. Which was why he’d made the choice.

  She could make hers. He would make his. Someone had to do it.

  He lifted the sledgehammer. One blow with its massive steel head and the crystal would shatter, be ground to dust. And it would all be over. Remy could be free. Envy would be safe. The Strangers destroyed.

  His family—and all of the world—would be avenged.

  Maybe then he could find some peace.

  The hammer was heavy above his head. Wyatt closed his eyes, thought of Cath and Abby . . . everyone he’d ever known, and those he knew now. David. Dantès. Remy.

  And he brought it down.

  No sooner had Cat dragged Wyatt from the meeting place than Remy looked at Simon. “I . . . uh . . . left something up in the room. Personal. Will you go with me to get it?”

  “I’ll get it,” Sage offered. “It’s probably better if you stay hidden. Especially with the deadline so close.” She couldn’t help but look at the clock, and Remy’s eyes followed.

  Thirteen hours.

  Or less, if Remy had her way.

  “Oh, you wouldn’t be able to find it,” Remy said, and gave Sage a look.

  The redhead’s eyes widened in understanding, and she frowned. Her expression said, Are you sure?

  “Simon, do you mind?” Remy asked again.

  “Of course not.” He seemed oblivious to the silent communication between the two women, and stood. Because of Simon’s background and the fact that he was the security and authority figure for Envy, Remy knew she’d be well-protected.

  Besides. They weren’t going far.

  As soon as they got out of Vaughn’s office, she turned to Simon and said, “Take me to Ian Marck. I need to talk to him.”

  He paused, looking her over with expressionless brown eyes. “You planned all that, didn’t you?”

  “I had to. Take me to him, please? Before Wyatt gets back.”

  He didn’t look pleased, but took her arm and led her off through a short warren of hallways. They came to a door and he drew a handgun from his back waistband, then unlocked the door.

  Remy went in and found Ian sitting on a sofa in accommodations just as comfortable as her own. He rose when they came in, and she was gratified to notice that Simon replaced the gun in his waistband and took a seat near the door.

  “Could we speak alone?” she said, turning to Simon. His cool eyes went from her to Ian and back, but he didn’t argue. He simply stood, opened the door, and disappeared into the hallway.

  When the door closed behind him, Remy turned back to Ian.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.

  “I need you to tell me everything you know about the Mother crystal. Why the Strangers want it, what you know about its power . . . how my grandfather obtained it . . . everything.”

  His lips shifted into a humorless smile. “And then what?”

  “I’ll make sure you’re released. When I surrender myself to the Strangers.”

  His ice-blue eyes widened. “You’re going to go to them?”

  “Yes. And you’re going to take me. You’re a bounty hunter, right? You track down bounties, right? I’m pretty sure I’m the biggest damn bounty you’ve ever had the fortune of getting.”

  “You do know what they’ll do when they have you?” he said. Some of the chill eased from his eyes and he looked at her searchingly.

  “I have my ideas. None of them are pretty.” She swallowed and tried to force the thoughts away. “They want the crystal, and I know where it is. They won’t actually kill me until they find out what they want to know . . . and I’m hoping by then I’ll either have escaped or I’ll be dead . . . my own way. Painlessly.” Remy forced her lips into a shaky smile.

  “You’re unbelievable,” he said. He shook his head, still looking at her. “You’re a hell of a woman, Remy. It’s too damn bad I don’t do relationships.” His smile went a little crooked. “But you’d sure as hell be the one if I did.”

  “How kind of you to let me down easy, Ian.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way—time’s running out. The Mother crystal. Tell me everything.”

  “I will tell you what I know . . . but understand there’s no way of verifying it all. The Mother crystal and what happened with Remington Truth has been the stuff of whispers and hearsay for fifty years. I don’t think anyone knows for certain what happened except your grandfather, Preston, and Fielding . . . and they’re all dead now, aren’t they?”

  “Okay, fine—I got the caveats. Tell me what you’ve heard.”

  “The Mother crystal. A piece of the u
ltimate power source for the Atlanteans, and the source of the immortality that lives in the Strangers’ crystals. It was a gift from the Atlanteans to the Cult of Atlantis—you know what that is?” When she nodded, he continued, “They gave it to the leaders of the Cult of Atlantis to enable them to cause the Change—and in gratitude for doing so. All the Atlantean crystals—at least the life-giving ones—are connected. So when one comes in proximity with another, depending how strong its power is, they can communicate or transfer energy between them. That’s how they caused the Change. They chose places throughout the world to align powerful crystals along natural energy centers, deep in the earth or the ocean. The way I understand it, when the Cult of Atlantis used the Mother crystal’s power—in conjunction with some other energy generated beneath the sea by the Atlanteans—all of those areas sort of erupted or exploded in a catastrophic manner.”

  “Causing earthquakes, tsunamis, and the entire earth to shift on its axes?” Remy had heard enough from Lou and Theo Waxnicki about their theories—which were surprisingly corroborated by Ian’s information. They’d been correct.

  “Yes. It was like a domino effect that affected weather and climate as well as civilization.”

  “And you’ve allied yourself with these people,” Remy said, her voice unsteady. “My God. No wonder you’re . . . the way you are.”

  His face went rigid. “You have no idea, darling.”

  She drew in a deep breath and continued. “Something happened a few weeks ago to make my crystal—the Mother crystal—start to burn.”

  “It must have been activated somehow, by some other powerful energy stone. Until then it was dormant and that was why they’ve been looking for it for fifty years. Once it came back to life, or whatever you want to call it, it reignited its energy and burned. And it can be tracked and located.”

  “Why do the Strangers want it?” Remy knew what Lacey had told her and what Ana had surmised . . . but she wanted to know if Ian had the same understanding.

  “It’s powerful. And it’s dangerous to them at the same time,” Ian said. “You never want your enemy to control something that can destroy you.” His eyes glittered with loathing. “That’s why I need to have it, Remy. Let me have it, come away with me, and I promise you’ll never be in danger again.”

  “You want it so you can destroy the Strangers?”

  He bared his teeth. “Oh no . . . it’s not that simple. I want it so they know I have it. I want it because they want it. I want it for revenge.”

  “Lacey died when she came in contact with it.”

  “So that part is true,” he said to himself. “Which means they have to have a mortal . . .” His dark smile became harsher. “Perfect.”

  “But Marley . . . she didn’t die. At least not yet. Her crystal is still blue, but it’s cracked. And it doesn’t glow. Lacey’s turned solid gray and she died within minutes.”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s interesting. Could be proximity. Could be the type of crystal—Lacey’s is obviously newer, since Marley has had hers for fifty years and Lacey only a year or two. Might just take longer for some . . .”

  “But if the crystal is so dangerous, why do they want to have it? Why do the Strangers want it if it will kill them?”

  “Because if someone else has it, they can annihilate all of them at once—you said it yourself. All they have to do is smash it, and boom! The energy evaporates from their crystals and they’re all dead. Surely you know your history, Remy. The United States had a nuclear bomb and so the—who was it?—the Soviet . . . Union? . . . had to have one too. It was a stalemate.”

  She was shaking her head. “But if the crystal will kill them, how will they do anything with it? I mean if they obtained it, whoever got near it would die.”

  “That,” he said, his eyes turning cold, “is what they have the zombies for. Their orange eyes? They’re from minuscule crystals—grit from the same node the Mother came from. The zombies are immune to the Mother crystal—they’re actually probably attached to it. Somehow. Unlike the Strangers who wear the blue crystals.”

  “Orange and blue, fire and water,” Remy murmured. “Opposites. Destructive opposites. Makes sense.”

  “Right. That’s how the zombies found you once the crystal started burning. They were coming a lot faster and crazier in the last few weeks, weren’t they? So they’d use the zombies to protect and guard the Mother crystal once they get it. That was how I found you this last time. I followed the zombies.” There was no remorse in his eyes.

  Remy nodded. It was as she’d suspected. “But again, how would they get it if they can’t go near it? The zombies are stone dumb. They’d need . . . Oh.” She looked at Ian, who had the balls to meet her gaze steadily. “Bounty hunters. Mortal bounty hunters.”

  “And there you have it,” he replied.

  Chapter 23

  Striding along the hall toward the main area of New York–New York, Wyatt looked neither right nor left.

  “Yo, Wyatt.”

  Curling his fingers into a tight fist, he stopped at the sound of Simon’s voice, but didn’t turn. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

  He needed to be alone . . . or with someone who wasn’t Simon.

  “What’s up?” he said, making little effort to hide his reluctance as Simon approached.

  “You okay?” his friend asked—which was clearly not what he’d meant to say.

  “What’s up?” he repeated.

  Simon got the message and moved on. “After you left . . . Remy asked me to take her to see Ian Marck. I thought you should know . . . she’s leaving with him.”

  Wyatt felt his face drain of color. “What?”

  “She wanted to speak to him alone, but unbeknownst to them I . . . uh . . . stuck around. I heard the entire conversation—”

  “What do you mean, she’s ‘leaving with him’?”

  “The gist of the conversation is she offered to be his bounty. He’s taking her to the Strangers to collect. I heard enough to know that she was going to make another excuse and come back to get him in an hour and they were going to leave. It took me a while to find you . . . Where were you?”

  Wyatt squeezed his eyes closed and tried desperately to make sense of everything. He actually felt light-headed. “I was down in the damned computer lab.” Then he looked at Simon. “What do you mean, ‘another excuse’?”

  They were already striding along, Wyatt following Simon’s lead to where, he presumed, Remy currently was.

  “That so-called fire in the kitchen? I think it was a setup. To give her the chance to talk to Ian.”

  Without you knowing.

  Simon didn’t even have to say it.

  Wyatt stopped. “To hell with it. If she wants to sneak away with Marck, who am I to stop her? God knows I’ve tried—to hell with it all. Let her fucking go.”

  He spun away, blinded by anger, and left Simon standing there watching. The pub was close by and Wyatt headed directly there, right into the bar he and his friends had gone into their very first night in Envy . . . just about a year ago.

  It was fitting. This would be his last night in Envy.

  He decided then and there he was going to go back to Glenway with David and Cat. There was no reason to stick around here, especially once Remington Truth surrendered herself to the Strangers.

  He could be with his family—what was left of it. The family the Strangers had nearly destroyed.

  Wyatt growled out an order for a whiskey, vaguely noticing that he wasn’t alone in seeking solace with drink. There were enough people in the pub he assumed were planning to drink their way into oblivion before the attack came . . . or maybe they’d been told there wouldn’t be an attack any longer because Remington Truth had appeared and were celebrating.

  When the glass was set in front of him, he stared down into the liquid gold. The smell rose to his nostrils, and he lifted the glass, tossing the entire shot down in one gulp. Fury, irrational and hot, blazed through him, coloring h
is vision.

  He hadn’t been able to do it.

  When it came down to it, he hadn’t been able to do it. At the last minute he brought the sledgehammer down on the table, purposely missing the crystal. Left a big fucking dent in the metal surface and the crystal untouched.

  Then he’d picked up the damned stone and whipped it across the room. It slammed into the drywall like a bullet, embedded itself like a crystal in the flesh of a Stranger. He stared at it for a long moment, looking at its feeble orange glow, tempted . . . tempted once more to smash it and annihilate the people who’d taken it upon themselves to be God . . . to destroy and rebuild the earth. To decide who lived and died. To sell out immortality.

  His vision swam and he’d dashed at his eyes with trembling fingers.

  At last, defeated, he pried the stone out of the wall, trembling with rage and loathing. Those bastards had taken everything . . . and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to destroy them. Even to save Remy.

  For how could he ever look honestly into those blue eyes if he did? She was willing to give herself up, one life for that of many.

  As he’d done countless times himself.

  Furious and yet defeated, he had shoved the crystal back in the file cabinet and left the computer lab, neglecting to give Dantès more than a brief goodbye pat.

  And now here he was, staring down into his second whiskey, more confused and screwed up than he’d ever been in his life. At least when he’d come out of the cave he knew how to feel: dead.

  Now he was just lost.

  When someone slid onto the stool next to him, Wyatt assumed it was Simon. Instead of looking over, he sneered down at his hands cupping the glass, curling his lip in a threat to leave me the fuck alone.

  “If I’d have given you that look when I was younger, you’d have swatted my ass.”

  Startled, he looked over into his son’s eyes. “You’re probably right,” he said after the surprise passed.