by Webster, K
She rubs at her eyes, then stifles a yawn. “Any changes?” Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her gaze goes straight to the isolation units.
“None so far, and no one else has contracted the fever. At least not yet.” I pause. When she looks back at me, I say, “Stella and Henry are missing. They must have slipped out in the commotion.”
Zoe merely shakes her head.
“I’ll be sending a group out to look for them.” My throat closes and I give myself a little shake. “Once everything settles down. I’ll let you know if we have more news.”
She nods and downs a cold cup of instant coffee as I follow Hadrian back to the elevator. He pulls me into his arms as soon as the doors close behind us.
Truth: I’ve never wanted something as much as I want his kiss.
As though he can read my mind, his lips come to mine. The world may be crashing down around us, but at least we’ll burn together. That’s what kissing Hadrian is like, being slowly lit up from the inside out. A glowing ember inside my chest that ignites and spreads like molten lava throughout my blood. His lips slide along mine, his teeth nipping, then tongue soothing. I go lightheaded and feverish, weak at the knees, but his body presses me against the wall to keep me upright.
Truth: I’m afraid that I’ve found my happiness, only to be destined to lose it.
All too soon the elevator dings at our level and we break apart in increments. His gaze ensnares mine as we take a step away from each other. A voice clears in the doorway and we whirl to find Theron waiting for us, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
“They’re waiting for you,” is all he says.
Without looking at either of them, I push by and walk on leaden feet to the command center. I find Willow sitting in front of the computer screen, her eyes still sheened with tears, the tracks of fresh ones on her cheeks. She turns to me and smiles, but there’s pain lingering in her eyes.
I force myself to lock away everything I’m feeling. To think only of seeing Aria. The Rades, my growing need for Hadrian, all of that can wait. This is the moment I’ve been fighting for, seeing her again.
I take a step forward, feeling like I’m going to collapse at any second, but I have to hold it together. The screen where I’d first seen Hadrian when he’d ordered us to submit to kidnapping shows the interior of a dated room not unlike this one. Its yellowed electronics beep and whir and standing in front of a bank of computers is a monster who looks so much like Hadrian—not so much in appearance but in the confident way they carry themselves—I do a double take.
And by his side…by his side is my sister.
My hand flies to my mouth and the image of Aria in front of me does the same. We both burst into laughter and it’s like the years and distance between us disappear in seconds. I throw myself into the chair and scoot as close as possible, wanting to drink in the sight of her, memorize her face until I’m certain I’ll never forget it again.
“Limerick,” she breathes. “Is it really you?”
I nod and feel Hadrian’s presence behind me, his hands on my shoulders. “It’s me. Though everyone calls me Lyric now. Oh my God, I never thought I’d see you again.”
Tears fall down her cheeks and her mate pulls her close against his side. “You’ve grown up,” she says in a watery voice. “You’re not a teenager anymore.”
“Space travel is a bitch.”
“I don’t get it…Molly said something about the time space continuum…”
I snort. “Nah, way less complicated than that. According to our friend Stella, who was awoken early on the ship a few years before landing, the ship was collecting prisoners as they built the prison. Because of the harsh conditions on Earth, it took them longer than they thought. Decades.”
Aria gasps. “Decades?”
“Decades,” I confirm. “We all entered in at different times and were just held in cryosleep.”
“You mean you and Aria could have been on the ship at the same time?” Hadrian asks, astonished. “Willow and Molly too?” He lets out a pained sound. “But then we took Aria and Molly, separating you…”
“You kidnapped them?” I bite out. “I thought they were your willing companions.”
“We are willing companions.” Aria waves it off as though kidnapping is no big deal. “We got the better end of the deal too. I’m thankful for our sweet morts.”
“Hmph,” I grumble.
Hadrian squeezes my shoulder and it feels like an apology. My heart does a little flutter. I guess apology accepted.
“We have so much to catch up on,” Aria babbles. “I want to know everything.”
Her mate, Breccan, squeezes her arm. “In due time. I know you’re both very excited, but first we must contain The Rades so we can transport you to the Facility as soon as possible.” Breccan nods to another of the morts in the background. “This is Avrell, our facility’s doctor. He helped treat us all during the last outbreak. Avrell?”
His expression is grim as he adjusts his camera and steps into view. “Based on the documentation from your nurse”—thank God Zoe is in the infirmary or she’d go off on him at being called a nurse—“I must agree with Theron and Hadrian. Your people are in danger. I won’t lie to you. The Rades…” He trails off as he seems to lose track of thought. “We’re going to do everything in our power to ensure the safety of your people.”
“How do you plan to do that?” I ask. I grip the chair to keep myself upright. The confirmation is staggering. All I want to do is run away—go somewhere dark and quiet where I can be alone with my feelings. It’s too much.
In a moment, I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever wanted. My sister. Hadrian.
And I may lose it just as quickly.
I press a hand to the pounding in my head. It hurts to look at the screen. My hand comes away covered in sweat.
“Avrell will be joining you,” Breccan says. “He will meet Theron at a safe distance away from the Facility to ensure our safety so Theron can transport him back to the prison where he may help treat those infected by The Rades.”
The mort on the screen doesn’t look pleased by the news, but he doesn’t protest. Hadrian tenses behind me, though he stays silent. I sense he doesn’t like this idea but doesn’t speak against his leader.
Aria wipes at the tears on her face. “Don’t worry. He’s the best. He’ll take good care of everyone and it’ll be over before you know it. Then we’ll have to plan a big party to celebrate.”
The hopeful look in her eyes only makes the growing dread in my stomach multiply. Because if they’re serious about how deadly this virus can be, then there’s a chance I may never actually see Aria in person again.
“I’d like that.” My voice is hoarse. “Can we call you again tomorrow? I want to check on Zoe in the infirmary.”
Breccan nods gently. “Of course. Why don’t we schedule a standing call for half-past the solar every day for a status update?”
Hadrian must nod, because Aria says, “We’ll get through this.”
I can only nod because it feels like there’s a weight pressing down on my chest. I stand, but my legs are weak. Terribly weak. Probably from lack of sleep.
“I miss you, sister,” I say, before my legs give out and I crumple to the floor.
Hadrian is by my side a half-second later, his hands on my forehead. I can sense everyone gathering around me, but my arms and legs feel wooden, immobile.
“What’s wrong with her?” I hear Aria shouting over the comms.
Hadrian pulls away and I want to comfort him when he says, “She’s burning up.”
Then darkness swallows me.
12
Hadrian
No. No. No. No.
NO!
My heart races inside my chest as fury and worry wage war inside me. She can’t be sick. Not brave, strong Lyric. I won’t accept it. The fury beats down my fears brutally.
I didn’t just find her for her to be taken away.
This is something I will no
t accept.
She’s mine and I won’t let her go. The Rades will have to take us both kicking and screaming into The Eternals, but at least we’ll go together.
When I burst through the infirmary doors with an unconscious Lyric in my arms, Zoe’s eyes widen briefly in fear. Then, her fury syncs with mine as she bursts into action. I lay her down on the table and stand by to assist Zoe, who starts barking orders at me. Without argument, I bring her supplies, help hook Lyric to some of the machines, and then settle beside Lyric to hold her hand. Zoe gives me a withering look, but doesn’t say a word. That’s a good thing, because I really don’t feel like yelling at the woman who’s treating mine.
“Fever is high,” Zoe hisses. “Fuck.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember anything of use from the past. I’d been so small, though, I can’t remember what my parents went through. I do, however, recall reading something about it in the books Sayer keeps. Breccan recanted his own tale of those long solars as he looked after Draven. At first it was Avrell, treating him for fever, and then the sores. When he began to scratch, he had to be restrained. Then, he went mad in a reform cell. Breccan never left his side. I’d been so young and Breccan was my only parental figure at the time, and it was noted that I cried continuously wanting him, but I was denied because Draven needed him more.
I kept him cool. Offered him continuous assurances. Protected him from himself.
Reluctantly, I release Lyric’s hand to rush over to the sink. I wet a cloth and then wring it out before folding it neatly. Zoe watches me with narrowed eyes, but I ignore her as I sit beside Lyric again.
“Everything is going to be okay,” I promise Lyric as I lay the cloth over her burning brow. “I just found you. You think I’m going to let you leave me now?”
Zoe scowls. “Shh. I need to focus.”
“And she needs me,” I challenge.
Her lip curls up. “I don’t know what happened up on that mountain that you think—”
“Enough,” I bite out. “Enough happened.” Pain tears along my chest, threatening to tear me in two. “Everything happened.”
Zoe’s features harden impossibly so. “If she so much as looks at you wrong, you’re out of here. Feel me, bro?”
“Likewise, sister.”
She frowns. “No…I wasn’t like referring to you as…” She sighs heavily. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”
And I do.
For hours and hours.
I don’t eat. I don’t sleep. I don’t assist the others.
Willow and some girl named Julie, with Theron’s help, have taken over for Lyric and have been assessing the others in the prison. Every so often, the infirmary takes on another. Of the three who were before Lyric, two of them are now turning red. I saw the male scratch at his forearm, even in his slumber.
“We’ll need to restrain them,” I state huskily, peeling my gaze from Lyric’s pretty face that glistens with sweat.
Zoe yawns and jerks her nog to my line of sight. “Why? They’re conked out.”
“That one. He’s getting the sores,” I inform her.
“Bruce? Yeah, that fucker deserves the sores. If it weren’t for Lyric holding me back, I would’ve given that asshole some sores of my own a long time ago,” Zoe practically snarls.
“This Bruce hurt you?”
“Better question is, who didn’t he hurt?”
My sub-bones start popping one by one as I rise to my full height, baring my double fangs at the threat. I can feel my claws practically extending with the need to rip his rekking face off.
“Did he hurt Lyric?” I growl, my chest rumbling with fury.
Zoe smacks me in the stomach and I jolt back in surprise. “Of course he hurt her. Whipped up on her a lot because, in case you haven’t noticed, she’s mouthy.”
Oh, I noticed.
It brings a smile to my face because I can imagine the fire in her eyes. She isn’t the type to take abuse without a fight. My brave, fiery female.
“When he tried to force himself on her once, I lost it.” Her eyes grow stormy and my sub-bones begin popping again. “I hit him over the head with a chair. Broke one of the legs off. I was going to…” Her lips turn up into a feral grin that gives me the chills, making me wonder if the fever is hitting me as well.
“Going to what?”
She makes a circle with her finger and thumb while pretending to jam her fist through the tiny hole. “An eye for an eye, motherfucker.”
I’ve heard Molly use this phrase before, minus the last bit. I think she used “D-bag” or “butt licker,” though. Regardless, it means the same. Not only doling out a punishment that fits their crime, but one that matches what was inflicted to the victim.
“Did you?” I ask eagerly.
She smirks. “No. Ol’ girl there told me to back off and then the guards were there before we knew it, breaking things up. I told him, though. That I was coming for him when he least expected it. I’d do to him what he did to other women.” She laughs cruelly. “But much, much worse.”
“I could find you a blunt object and assist,” I offer seriously.
Zoe cackles. “Oh my God. I like you, man. I shouldn’t, but I do.”
Seems as though there are worse things than Zoe liking me.
“I like you too, Kevin hunter.”
Our banter is cut short when said Kevin jolts upright in his bed, his eyes milky white and his blunt teeth bared. He doesn’t attack us, but instead begins slashing at his arms with his nails. The humans may not have claws, and aren’t usually able to inflict harm with their nails, but this one does. Blood blooms in lines as he shreds his own flesh.
“Quick,” I bark out to her as I stalk over to him. “Find me rope or something to restrain him.” I pounce on him, pinning his arms so he doesn’t rip his skin right off. He howls in agony. I bask a little in his pain, but it’s short-lived knowing this is Lyric’s future.
Zoe is gone for what feels like an exceptionally long time. She returns with the clanging of what sounds like zuta-metal. The devices remind me of the ones Oz made for Jareth once, though I don’t know why Jareth needed them. They were unbreakable and meant for restraint. She tosses two sets at me.
“Handcuff each wrist to the bed,” she instructs. “I’ll get his ankles.”
After a grueling couple of minutes, we manage to get him restrained. He curses and struggles to no avail. Then, through his clouded vision, he begs.
“Please,” he sobs. “It itches. I just need to scratch it. Scratch it for me.”
“I’ll watch him,” I tell her. “Go see if Avrell knows of something to help with the itching.”
Her lip curls up. “I don’t want to help him.”
Looking past her, I point at one of the women on the bed who absently scratches at her stomach in her sleep. “Bring more of the zuta-metal binders too.”
She lets out a heavy sigh of resignation. “Fuck The goddamn Rades.”
I understand this venom in her tone loud and clear.
“Yeah, fuck them,” I agree, knowing in this case she doesn’t mean to literally mate with a disease.
Zoe smiles briefly. “Lyric is gonna be pissed I taught her adorable alien boyfriend how to cuss. We’re in this for life now, man. You gotta back me up.”
“I have your back, female.”
“Call me female again and I’ll break your neck.”
“Affirmative, sister.”
“Not much better, but I’ll allow it.” Then, she stops in the doorway. “Sis. Goes with the whole bro thing better. Sister makes you sound Amish.”
Whatever that means.
* * *
A break.
I do not need a break.
Practically snapped Zoe’s nog off when she suggested it. Thankfully, she nearly snapped mine off right back. Told me to “go deal with upper management so you can get back to our girl.” I don’t know what “upper management” is, but I got the gist. She means Breccan and the rest.
“You look like hell, Hadrian,” she says softly, her voice cracking. “How you holding up, kid?”
I used to bristle any time she’d call me kid—their human reference for a mortling—but now I can’t find it in me to get upset.
“Exhausted,” I admit. “Angry.”
Her brows lift. “Is…is my sister…”
“Unconscious,” I tell her bluntly. “Though when they pass the fever stage, they wake again.” I close my eyes. “They’re clearheaded enough to speak too, but they’re distracted. Singularly focused.”
She swallows as tears well in her eyes. “On what?”
“Ripping their skin off.”
“Jesus, Hadrian,” she bites at me. “Way to soften the blow.”
Sarcasm. Zoe is fluent. At least that’s what she tells me.
I shrug. “We don’t have time or the energy for pleasantries.” Now that’s a direct quote from Zoe. Aria picks up on it too. Her lips press into a firm line.
“You’ve changed,” she mutters.
I scowl. Of course I changed. I was given the most beautiful woman in the entire solar system only to lavish her with a few short kisses before The Rades took her. I’m not just changed, I’m spitting like one of the angry red mountains near Lake Acido. Molten, hot, uncontrollable.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
Lifting my eyes, I meet hers on the screen. “For what?”
“For never choosing you. It was always him for me.”
My blood grows cold. Not because she’s breaking me with her words, but because they don’t feel right anymore. At one time, yes. When I flew out here with Theron, I’d been obsessed with the idea of her and me together, but torn by what that would do to Breccan. I was in constant turmoil. Now, I have direction and purpose. I know exactly what I want and I’ll do nothing to stop it.
“You were always his,” I agree. “I never truly wanted to take you from him.”