I’ve been close enough to a Cormorant to know being that near and not dying is impossible enough, but to stab one deep in the heart? “His whole arm would have been inside the beast.” I shiver.
“Yeah, Pretty nasty, huh?”
I doubt that story is true. “Who was the kid?”
Cole ducks under a low-hanging branch. “Don’t know. Gray doesn’t talk about it. Neither does anyone else.”
Maybe I can’t stab a Cormorant but . . . “If the beasts are around, I can command them to leave us alone.”
“That will only tip off Sage that you’re outside the Wall. No. I can get us in. I’ll just need to know where Sage is first. He’s always working on a few Dissenters at a time. If we’re lucky, he’ll be occupied and not waiting at the gate, but I’m not counting on it.”
Can Cole’s plan really work? “If my mom is as weak as they say she is, how can we get her out that quickly?”
Cole pulls something from a small side pocket of the bag. “Harper’s gonna hate me.” He holds up a vial with deep violet liquid. “But I swiped this from her stash in the kitchen. The potency of this serum should strengthen your mom enough so we can walk her out of the room and downstairs to the car.”
He’s brilliant. I shake my head, speechless. He tucks the serum into his front pocket as we pick up the pace.
A car engine rumbles around the bend in the road. Cole quickly ducks into the woods with the bike. I’m at his heels. “Get down.” He shoves my head below the thick brush, so low, I can taste the gritty scent of wet dirt.
I peek through a break in the leaves. A slow-moving SUV with dark windows, the same gunmetal gray as the others, crawls up the drive toward the Estate. A zooming groundskeeping cart follows right behind. “Council,” Cole mumbles. “Glad we’re getting you out now.” We crouch in the woods and wait in silence until it’s clear.
Cole rises and quickly guides the bike back onto the road. “Once we’re close to Sage’s place, we’ll have to park the bike and walk the rest of the way. You don’t want to make a sound and tip off the Legions, so you need to listen as you walk. There’s a rhythm to the world, but we’re always out of sync. If you want to get into places and not be heard, you’ve got to open yourself to the Current. Feel the rhythm pulsing though the world, and let your movements respond. It’s like dancing. When you do, then you can blend with the sounds around you.”
I think of Gladys. She mentioned something similar about the Current. “Someone once told me it’s an ebb and flow that we don’t stop to listen to. A slight hum.” I check over my shoulder, but we’re alone. No other cars head in our direction.
“Yeah, like that, I guess.”
“But I’m not a dancer.” I trip over an overgrown root. “I doubt I can pull it off.”
“Don’t overthink it. Just listen. Be in the moment, then watch what happens.”
I follow behind, listening for the hum, and not searching for voices that might signal Gray knows I’ve escaped. Or for any other oncoming cars. I try walking in step with Cole. Our footsteps blend with a nearby stream. He’s right. As the treetops rustle, I leap over a log. My landing was a little loud. I try again, listening for sounds around me. I keep my steps light. The hum underscores scraping branches as a strong wind pushes through the woods. My senses sharpen. My mind feels alert. I take a step with the beat. A fish splashes in the rowdy stream. I am surprised at how simple it is to not be heard.
We stride silently in tune with the Garden until we reach Uriel and Gabriel and the twisted gate gnarled between them. The lantern hangs on a wooden post. On the other side, autumn leaves cover the ground. The trees are stripped bare. Only a few fat evergreens dot the road. I won’t know for sure until I open the gate and detect ash in the wind, but for now, I don’t see any evidence of Sage or his army.
Cole straddles the bike and puts his helmet on. “If you see anything, tell me.” He tucks the knife in a holder at his waist.
He shouldn’t come with me. Leaving will make him a traitor—or worse. “Cole, please don’t come.”
“I’m the best chance you’ve got of saving your mom. And I’m not sending you out there alone. Now lose the sweater.”
“What?”
“Warmth intensifies scent. I don’t want the Cormorants detecting you once that gate opens.”
I do what he says. I have a tank top on underneath but try to ignore the way his glance drifts over me as I fasten my helmet. “Cole, if something happens while we’re there . . . don’t let me betray the Alliance. If I have a vision or help Sage in any way. I want you to promise me that you’ll use your knife on me.”
“I won’t.” Cole scowls.
“Please.”
“Just open the gate.” He starts the engine.
He didn’t say no. I’ll take that as a promise. I wave the lantern behind Uriel. Up and down, left and right. The ground rumbles under my feet in sync with the roaring engine of Gray’s bike and the opening gate. Icy air whips through the gap. I gasp. Behind the Circuit Wall, it’s easy to forget how cold the world is.
“Close it. Then get on. Quick,” Cole shouts over the roaring sound.
I run to the other statue and wave the lantern behind Gabriel. Reversing the order. The gate creaks, churning as the vines twist. “NOW!” Cole yells.
I abandon the lantern and jump into place behind Cole. Despite the sling bag resting between us, I wrap my arms around him and lean in as close as possible to stay warm enough but not give myself away.
“If you see any of those suck-face Legions on the way, let me know.” Cole revs the engine and kicks the bike into action.
I grip tight, wincing as he peels out, deftly maneuvering through the narrow exit. As the gate closes behind us, frigid air lashes across my face. Uneasiness washes over me as I look to the sky.
Something isn’t right.
Sage isn’t around.
In the distance a Cormorant cries out. Another one answers in response, and then another, announcing my presence. Their piercing shrieks crawl through my skin. I’d forgotten how horrible they sound.
We take the corners of the barren woods much faster than Devon did in getting here. Turning left, weaving right, we fly down the narrow dirt route as the sun hangs low in the west. I scour the gnarled brush for mist. Surely a creature is watching. Waiting. Reporting every move back to Sage.
When we clear a bend in the road, Cole hits the brakes. My sight is limited because of the helmet. I can’t see around his shoulder. I crane my body left, then right. If we’ve run into a creature, despite what Cole said about tipping Sage off, I’ll command it to leave Cole alone. I’ll even go with it, willingly. If it means Cole can go free.
We skid to a hard stop, avoiding a near collision with a shiny red sports car. White steam rises from the tailpipe as the convertible top lowers, exposing someone in the front seat.
Cole mutters something under his breath that I can’t hear clearly.
A lanky guy steps out of the car. Late twenties, pushing thirty. With black-framed glasses and scaly red skin climbing up the base of his neck, it’s a face I recognize. A face from the gallery Elysium’s Edge.
Mark.
Mark who pursued me with a job, luring me to bring my mother’s drawings. Mark, the Dissenter who tried bringing me into Sage’s hands before I ever knew this world existed.
Any hope of rescuing my mother evaporates along with the wispy air steaming from my rapid breath.
“Good to see you again, Cera.” Only half of Mark’s face smiles. The other half droops when he talks, as though his jaw has melted. He wasn’t this way at the gallery. “Are you ready?” He opens a car door. “And Sage will be thrilled to have you back, Hendrick,” he says to Cole.
“He’s not coming.” My words slur between frozen lips as I awkwardly dismount from the bike. My body shivers, whether from cold or fear of knowing this is a trap, I don’t know.
“Cera, don’t,” Cole mutters.
Voices shout from somewhere u
p the hill. The Alliance must know I’ve escaped.
I wrestle with the helmet, yanking it off. “Cole, go back. Tell them I ran off and you tried to catch me.” As I look at the conflict piercing his eyes, the Current wobbles between us. “Go. Now.”
Cole doesn’t move. “I won’t lie.”
A Cormorant screeches in the distance. “Time to go.” Mark checks the sky. “My backup is moving in.” I don’t hesitate. I bolt to the car. “Sit in the back,” he tells me.
Five canvases with assaulting neon colors that are wrapped in clear plastic occupy the front seat. Mark’s paintings from the gallery. Five trees with black fog hovering at the roots. I shiver and crawl into the cramped back seat. He called them different personalities, but I know better now. “Those are the five Bents, aren’t they?”
Healer. Guardian. Blade. Caretaker. And Seer.
Mark gets in and shuts the door. “I thought you would have picked that up sooner.”
His chemical scent still overwhelms me. I slowly scoot behind the passenger seat and take one last look at Cole, etching his face in my mind.
Mark backs the car out of the tight space. “Last chance, Hendrick,” he calls out.
Next thing I know, Cole jumps in next to me. My insides turn hollow as Mark smiles and lowers the convertible top like a coffin lid.
We drive for at least half an hour while Mark blasts heavy bass music with spitting lyrics. Talking isn’t possible. I want to tell Cole he shouldn’t have come. I’m angry that he did. And I’m angry with myself for being selfishly relieved that I’m not alone.
Dusk descends on a long stretch of highway lit by the unnatural blue glow of the headlights. Cole takes his fedora from the sling bag and straightens out the edges before setting it low on his head. He sits cramped with arms crossed and knees high against the back of Mark’s seat. Every reverberating beat of the music burrows deeper into my bones, rattling my core. Willingly going with Mark to meet Sage without putting up a fight has to be wrong. My mind tells me it is, but an inner pull I can’t explain, assures me that this is exactly what I should do.
As we drive, I catalog what I know: Sage is a shapeshifter. He’ll use his red current to torture Awakened and siphon powers from Dissenters. He’ll know my triggers—Mom—and will spin the truth to get me to side with him. He’ll want me to use my Dissenting powers to join the realms and give him access to destroy the Well. That’s about all I know. But I’m sure there’s more I don’t. Maybe even something that might explain this relentless inner pull I can’t seem to shake.
We turn off and drive through a dark county road lined with imposing evergreens. As we cruise up a hill and turn onto a sloping drive, Mark turns down the music.
“Sage bought a new car after your last joy ride.” Mark speaks to Cole with unsettling familiarity. “But I wouldn’t try that stunt again. He’s less patient now.”
Cole only stares out the window. I check him for the Dissenter’s mark. But in the weak light from the dashboard, I can’t tell.
As Mark lowers the convertible top, floodlights from the garage turn on, lighting the perimeter as if it were daylight. Sage’s house is gorgeous. The entire place is made from glass, outlined by white rectangular beams. Stunning, but empty of human life. Clean light shines from every room, casting a soft shadow onto the perfectly manicured lawn. Swirling black clouds hover above the house with the quiet droning sound of resting bees. The thin air smells of ash. I inspect Cole’s neck again. No red marks appear as far as I can see. Cole catches me looking.
I switch my attention to Mark. “Where is my mother?”
A girl’s cackling laughter drifts down the hill. Contained flames from a fire pit flicker on the far end of the house. “You’ll get to see her after you visit with Sage.” Mark takes his artwork from the front seat. “He’s on the east veranda. He’s got company.” My stomach twists at the way he smiles at Cole when he adds, “Two girls.”
From this distance, I can’t get a good view of any girls, but I can tell there is someone else up there. A man wearing white.
“Wait in the downstairs lounge. I’ll tell him you’re here,” Mark says.
A Cormorant’s shriek cuts through the night. The creature lands on the roof with its razor-sharp claws. With that gluttonous look of death in its eye and puffed out chest, I know it’s Moloch. “It’s only me.” Mark waves his hand at the beast before entering the garage, disappearing in the dark. Moloch watches Cole with thirsty greed. The beast had that same look before killing Jess. Before attacking Maddox in the alley.
Belial, the smaller Cormorant, joins Moloch on the roof. Both creatures, as big as grizzlies, jut their necks forward, bickering in staccato squawks as we walk toward the garage.
Moloch glides off the roof, landing on the driveway. Cole freezes. If I had his knife, I’d stab it deep into Moloch’s chest, wedging it up into his heart until he died. I must have taken a step forward because Cole holds me back. “Don’t. They might be under Sage’s control, but they have a mind of their own.”
“They’re under my control too,” I remind him.
Moloch squawks and clicks his serpent tongue. The trees rustle all around us. The pit of my stomach deepens. Moloch has called others. At least four dozen younger Cormorants the size of mountain lions perch in the trees. All around, the air smells of rotting flesh.
Moloch, with his beady yellow eyes, backs up but stares right at Cole. For a moment I think he may fly away, but he retracts his wings, lowers his gruesome head, and crouches, ready to strike.
And he does. Moloch leaps into the air, launching right at Cole.
I throw my hands out. “Stay back!” The words break free with a hungry power. A surging, euphoric and greedy force rises in me, desperate to take control. Moloch bucks, fighting my command, but doesn’t make contact with Cole.
I quickly drag him into the relative safety of the expansive garage as the floodlights black out. The air smells of new tires and expensive leather. Beyond a row of imported cars, a gentle light drapes down a spiral staircase.
Instead of being thankful, Cole sounds irritated. “Careful, Blighty,” he says as we climb the metal stairs. “You might . . .”
“Connect the realms? Not until I’m seventeen. And what will it matter if I’m not behind the Wall?”
“The more you use the power, the more you’ll want to. Then you might not be able to stop. Think of it like an insect bite. Once you scratch it—”
“I get it,” I snap. That would have been useful information for the Alliance to warn me about. I climb the rest of the way in silence. Cole’s light footsteps harmonize with mine until I’m standing on a marble floor.
The room is sparse and everything is white: Floors. Interior walls. Gauzy silk curtains flanking the terrarium windows. The only color comes from silver accents on various side tables, red pillows, and black picture frames.
On the surface, everything seems so normal. A gentle water wall separates us from a glass dining room table with ten chairs. All white, naturally. Mark climbs stairs of glass jutting out from the wall. He reaches the second story with a wraparound balcony. A set of black doors creates an entry at the top, just the way Cole described.
“Wait there,” Mark says and then walks around the corner with his paintings. He must feel certain that I won’t run.
“Cole, get out now,” I whisper. “I’ll hold off Moloch again. Take the car. Go.”
“I’m not leaving you here. With Sage on the patio and Mark out of the way, I can find your mom, give her the serum, and bring her down. Be out in five. Wait here.”
Cole doesn’t give me the chance to protest. He flies up the stairs two at a time and disappears around the corner. But something about him going off alone doesn’t feel right. I race up the stairs after him, but I’m not nearly as swift. Without a handrail, I have to be careful to keep my balance. As soon as I reach the top step, a glass door on the first floor rumbles open.
I stand frozen.
The tric
kling waterfall muffles the sound of bare feet on the marble. Then I smell a sickeningly sweet ashy aroma. A deepening chill coils through me as a strong presence invades the room. I’ve been caught.
Sage is here.
I stand exposed on the marble balcony. My whole life I’ve been moved, hidden, and dragged around to the farthest corners of the country to keep Sage from finding me; yet here I am, inside his house at night. That hideous, taunting monster from Fuseli’s Nightmare stands in the shadows below, preying on Awakened, mutilating Dissenter’s bodies, transforming them into Legions, and enslaving them. The presence of pure evil is so strong it permeates my skin.
A voice tinted with a French accent, as smooth as it is mellow, floats up to my ears. “She walks in darkness, like the night . . .” Sage greets me with Lord Byron’s poem on the beautiful harmony of blending of dark and light. I suppress a shiver. The message isn’t lost on me. I’m a Blight—both light and darkness. But the words don’t sound right.
“Of cloudless climes and starry skies . . .”
His voice drifts from all directions. I try but can’t find him in the lounge below.
“And all that’s best of dark and bright / Meet in her aspect and her eyes . . .”
The rhythmic cadence of his speech sets off a longing twinge. I squint at the dark. And that’s when I see him. A mauve light from the outdoor pool outlines the eerie shadow of a man casually leaning against a chair. He’s not a troll-like beast the way Fuseli painted him, but a man.
“Thus mellowed to that tender light . . .” He glides barefoot into the soft light near the leather couch. “Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”
With the slender build of a retired athlete, wavy hair, and a Roman nose, he looks to be about fifty with tanned skin that makes his white pants and half buttoned shirt glow. He is simultaneously dangerous and beautiful. Like hypnotic flames dancing in a fire, I’m mesmerized and can’t pull my eyes away.
Then something nudges me from inside, drawing me back to the poem. He’s misquoted Byron. The right words slap inside my head as if my English teacher was calling me out for not paying attention in class.
Realms of Light (The Colliding Line Book 2) Page 14