Page 11 of Forsaken


  Ryder cringes, and Zinnia's eyes wander in my direction as she shoves the leaf into his mouth with her tongue.

  I recollect the memory I had where I was almost kissed and how I ran away, afraid of the hunger rising inside me. I then look away, unable to stand the sight of them. I hate that he's being forced to eat quercu by Zinnia. But something else is also bothering me, something I don't fully understand, and quite frankly, it makes me want to crawl over and claw Zinnia's face off.

  "Where the hell did you get quercu?" Reece asks, shocked. "That stuff is practically extinct."

  "I bought it off a traveler," Zinnia replies, smacking her lips. "You'd be surprised how often it comes in handy."

  Hearing her voice means she's no longer kissing Ryder, so I turn my head and look at them.

  "What do you do with it?" Blaise shakes his head in disgust. "Make trades? Because the only things that want that stuff are the Grim, and if you're trading with them, then that makes you a traitor."

  "A traitor to whom?" She raises her brows in speculation. "Everyone at Leviter Station? Because one might say that entire place is full of traitors."

  "No one there is a traitor." Blaise's eyes snap cold. "We help people, not try to kill them, unlike the Forsaken."

  "Oh. You think so?" She inches toward Blaise. "Then tell me, when your team shows up here, will they or will they not try to kill me?"

  "Why would a team show up here?" Reece asks. "They don't know where this camp is."

  "They didn't know until you told them." She crouches down in front of Reece, still cupping flakes of dried leaves in her hand. "You guys are smarter than I gave you credit. Counting the steps from the caves to our camp and then finding my radio transmitter to send out a code. But how did you find the transmitter while you were so doped up? You shouldn't have even been able to think about anything else other than your nightmares."

  "Your dreamland is weak. Whoever you got it from screwed you over. My bet is you probably killed a wanderer and stole it off them," Reece accuses. When she doesn't deny it, he shakes his head. "You deserve what's coming to you."

  She leans forward, getting in Reece's face. "You think just because some rescue team is coming, that you're saved? You forget how savagely we fight. We don't need computers or machines to protect us, unlike you."

  Reece carries her gaze, refusing to lean back. "If that's the case, then why do you have a radio transmitter, Tasers, an electromagnetic pulse activator, a scanner, and a broken chaser hidden in the dirt underneath your bed?"

  "Zinnia, what's he talking about?" Wrath asks, his fingers curling around the armrest. "We don't have those kinds of things at this camp."

  "It's your highness," Zinnia tells him without taking her eyes off Reece. "And that's none of your business."

  "None of my business?" Wrath starts to rise to his feet, fuming mad. "The whole point of our way of life is to exist without the machines the Grim created and used to bring violence to our world!"

  "The Grim didn't create all the machines. Humans had their own machinery and weaponry." She reels around. "And there was violence in our world before the Grim came along. That's the problem with humans. We turn on our own kind, which is why I have all that stuff--to protect us from our own kind."

  Anger simmers in Wrath's eyes as he steps toward her. "We don't need that stuff to protect us. We've been doing just fine without it."

  "Yes, we have, but things change." Her fingers fold inward, crunching the quercu leaves. "The Grim put bounties on not only Nameless but humans. Any human could turn in an escaped Nameless now." Her gaze flicks in my direction. "Or an unbranded human in exchange for immunity."

  "No human would be stupid enough to fall for that shit." Wrath straightens his stance, his head almost clipping the ceiling. "The Grim would never give anyone immunity. It's probably a trap. They probably capture the people stupid enough to fall for it and get double the prisoners."

  "Of course that's what they're doing," she snaps. "But that isn't going to stop people from believing them. And I'm not about to let us be susceptible simply because we refuse to steer away from the old ways. Yes, I understand that machines aided in the destruction of mankind, but we also need to be able to protect ourselves from the violence."

  He eliminates the space between them, towering over her. "Those old ways make us who we are. Without them, we're just as bad as everyone else."

  "Those old ways were created by our ancestors who had no clue what the outcome of our world was going to be," she says. "I've already heard rumors of human hunters grouping together to track down humans. We need protection and not just from the Grim anymore."

  "The Deorum will protect us," Wrath growls, his nostrils flaring. "We have a truce. We give them ten lives every month, and in exchange, they protect us."

  "The Deorum protect us from hybrids, not the Grim or humans." She stands toe to toe with him. "We already have a hard enough time making that quota."

  "Then we will find some other way." He leans in, his face inches from hers. "We don't need to use transmitters and electromagnetic pulses. That's not how we do things."

  "That's not your call to make." She pokes him in the chest, and he staggers back. "You're severely out of line by speaking to me this way."

  Metal snapping draws my attention away from their argument. I glance to my right to find Blaise unshackled and rotating his broken wrist ... or what I thought was a broken wrist. By the way he moves it, the bones don't appear to be broken. Either that or Blaise has rapid healing abilities, too.

  He puts a finger to his lips, indicating for me to keep quiet. Then he reaches behind me and bends the cuffs until the metal gives way.

  "Hold still until I get Reece and Ryder's handcuffs off, okay?" he whispers.

  I nod, keeping my hands behind my back as Blaise shifts toward Reece. He works quickly, snapping the cuffs off them. By the time he's finished, Zinnia and Wrath are still yelling at each other.

  "Should we run?" Ryder whispers to Reece. "Or try to take them out?"

  "We need to take them out." Reece massages his wrists, his eyes trained on Zinnia and Wrath. "If we don't, they'll warn everyone, and we won't make it very far."

  "Yeah, but people at the station are coming for us, right?" Blaise asks, wiggling his fingers on his should-be broken hand. "What Zinnia said about the transmitter, that's true, right?"

  Reece frees a stressed breath. "I sent out a signal, but I never got a reply. Zinnia's transmitter was outdated. It might run on a different frequency."

  "Shit." Blaise rubs the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing a trail of dirt across his skin. "So, what? We just snap their necks then try to slip out of the camp?"

  "They have guards in lookout towers," I whisper. "And there are towers all over the place."

  All three of them glance my way, their brows arched in surprise.

  "How do you know that?" Ryder leans around Blaise and lowers his voice. "I didn't notice any when we came in."

  "You were kind of out of it when we came in," I say quietly. "And I didn't even notice them until Calla, the girl who brought me to Zinnia, pointed them out. There's one on each corner of the fence."

  "They have torches set up around the fence, too." Blaise shoves the sleeves of his leather jacket up, revealing the tattoos on his arms. "My guess is they light them up at night so they can keep watch from the towers."

  "So we blow out the damn torches." Ryder crosses his arms defiantly. "No light means they can't see for shit."

  "How the hell are we supposed to get the flames out?" Blaise hisses. "Just walk up and blow them out, hoping they don't see us first?"

  "Or we don't do any of it and just make a run for it when the Deorum show up," Reece suggests. "It offers the perfect distraction."

  I steal a glance in Zinnia and Wrath's direction, making sure they're still distracted, before scooting toward Reece. "You know what the Deorum are?"

  "Not exactly." Reece tugs his fingers through his brown hair. "B
ut I know the word means gods."

  "I'd rather not find out what they are, at least not while we're being offered as a sacrifice," Ryder says, glancing at Zinnia and Wrath. "We need to get out of here fast."

  "I think we should just run," Reece contradicts what he said earlier. "On the count of three, we all bolt?"

  Ryder and Blaise nod in agreement, and my confusion increases. Are we running or fighting? I'm so lost.

  I put my hands to the ground and shift my weight to the balls of my toes, preparing to jump and either fight or run. Either way, I'm not sure if I can make it. Being in the channels for so long has made me so uncoordinated and slow, like I forgot how to use my body.

  "One," Reece whispers, exchanging a look with Blaise.

  Blaise nods his head once, as if answering a silent question.

  "Two." Reece glances at Ryder then reaches for the chain behind him, and Ryder mimics him. "Three."

  I spring to my feet, but Blaise grabs the back of my dress and drags me into his lap. Then he scrambles backward toward the chairs, kicking up dirt.

  Zinnia lets out an untamed laugh, reeling toward us with her knife out. "You think you could plot your escape right underneath my nose?" She strides toward Reece with the knife aimed at his throat. "How stupid do you think I am?"

  "Pretty stupid, since we weren't ever going to try to escape." Ryder grins sweetly at her then lunges at Wrath, swinging the chain like a whip.

  Blaise wraps an arm around my waist and tows me with him as he continues to move toward the back of the tent. A revelation strikes me. Reece, Ryder, and Blaise must have known Zinnia was listening to the plan, and somehow, they made an alternative plan without actually verbalizing it. How, though? Did Blaise get into their thoughts somehow? But that doesn't make sense. He didn't touch Ryder and Reece, nor were any of them relaxed or unconscious.

  Zinnia lets out a feral shriek. "You'll die trying to escape!"

  Reece barrels forward and crashes into her. They both slam to the ground as her knife flies from her hand, and the quercu scatters across the dirt like fallen snowflakes. My eyes roll into the back of my head as the scent of fresh, thriving leaves saturates the air.

  I'm so hungry. I'm so hungry. I need them. I need them.

  "Come on, we have to go," Blaise says, lugging me backward.

  "No, I have to get them." I throw my weight forward with a shocking amount of strength, and his arms slip from my waist.

  "Allura, don't, please," Blaise begs, reaching for me. "We have to go--"

  Wrath appears in front of us, grabs my arm, and yanks me to my feet as if I weigh nothing.

  "Let her go!" Blaise savagely growls, jumping to his feet.

  Wrath flips me around and jerks me against him, aligning my back to his chest. "Why? You lost the challenge, right? Which means I own her."

  Where the heck did Ryder go? I turn my head, searching for him, and ice fills my veins. A man and woman have him pinned to the ground and are beating him bloody with the chain and their fists.

  "Help Ryder," I plead with Blaise. "They're going to kill him."

  Blaise doesn't seem to hear me, edging forward with his eyes trained on Wrath. "Lost the challenge. You didn't even fight me."

  "You tried to run like a coward, so you lost." Wrath trails his finger along my jaw, across my lips, then down my neck. "And now I get to rip her apart bit by--"

  In the blink of an eye, Blaise lunges forward, grabs my hips, and moves me to the side. Then he lets his fist fly, and his knuckles bash against Wrath's jaw.

  Wrath staggers back, stunned. "You're not normal."

  "And you're going to die," Blaise says then lowers his head and charges at Wrath again.

  Wrath dodges out of the way, shrugs off his jacket, and chucks it to the floor as Blaise swings around. "If you want to play, then let's play." The muscles in his enormous arms bulge as he cracks his knuckles then flashes me a devious grin. "Winner takes--"

  Blaise rams his head into Wrath's chest and pushes him back into the tent wall. The lanterns above us shake as Wrath picks Blaise up by the throat and throws him across the tent as if he weighs nothing. Blaise crashes into the chairs just a few feet away from me but recovers, leaps to his feet, and sprints across the tent at Wrath. Wrath skitters out of the way, whirls around, and punches Blaise in the side of the head. Blaise drunkenly staggers, his shoulder knocking against the side of the tent. Wrath then hits Blaise in the head again, and this time, he draws blood.

  "No!" I cry, rushing for Blaise.

  Blaise collapses to the dirt, clutching his head, and Wrath grins as he strides toward me. I turn around to run, but he snags the back of my dress.

  "You aren't going anywhere," he breathes, slamming his chest against my back, His fingers delve into my waist as his teeth graze my earlobe. "I'm going to--"

  I whip my head back against Wrath's face, and his fingers leave my waist. He trips backward as I stumble forward, dizziness overcoming me.

  I need ... something ... something that will help make me strong.

  I trip over my dress, staggering toward the quercu.

  "Allura!" Blaise sounds so far away, like an echo. Or maybe I'm just moving extraordinarily fast.

  I make it to the leaves before I can even take my next breath and pluck the flakes from the dirt.

  Oh. My. God. I want them so badly.

  I lift my hands to my face, my nostrils flaring, ready to devour.

  "No. No. No. You can't eat them, or you're done for," the voice whispers in my ear again. "Then it can't be undone."

  "Look at her! She's about to feed!" Zinnia says, her voice muffled. "She's one of them! Can't you see what you're trying to protect? She's evil!"

  I jerk back as if burned and drop the quercu.

  What am I doing? I don't need to do this. I'm not like this.

  But I'm so hungry. Famished. As if I haven't been fed in ages. And all that healing. I can feel it taking a toll on my body. I need something, but I don't understand what.

  "Yes, you do," the voice whispers. "Just lie down and shut your eyes. Then you'll be stronger and can help them."

  I glance at Reece as he struggles to hold the chain around Zinnia's neck, at Ryder who's enduring merciless punches, and at Blaise rushing toward me, blood dripping from his hairline. I want to help them, so I listen to the voice and lie down on my stomach and press my face to the ground.

  Blaise shouts my name again as my eyes close, ready to give in. But as a cold rush of air whooshes through me and my nostrils are blasted with the stench of rotten eggs, fear pulses through my body.

  No. No. No. Not again.

  What have I done?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The First

  "What's happening?" I murmur with my eyes closed.

  Did Lex's spirit take over my body again?

  I crack one of my eyelids open, and for a heart stopping instant, I swear I see a pair of red, glowing eyes staring at me. When I blink, they're gone.

  Taking a few uneven breaths, I peer around the tent, relieved to be looking through my own eyes and not Lex's. All relief erases, though, when I spot Blaise and Wrath pummeling each other.

  Blood drips from Blaise's nose and covers the front of his shirt and unzipped jacket. On the opposite side of the tent, Ryder is pinned to the ground, enduring blow after blow. Beside him, Reece is strangling Zinnia with the chain, but Zinnia has her hands clasped around his throat.

  I want to run to them, but I don't. I feel too ... different, like I don't really exist.

  I rotate my arms in front of me, noticing the translucency of my skin. "What's happening to me?"

  "Goddammit!" Blaise's scream pulls my attention to him.

  He uppercuts Wrath in the chin, and blood gushes from his mouth. But Wrath just laughs, flashing a bloody smile. Then he cranes his blood-soaked fist back, ready to strike. Blaise veers to the right, jumps over a broken table, picks up the trunk, and hurls it at Wrath. Wrath's eyes widen for a flash of an instant b
efore the trunk smacks him square in the face. The contact makes a sickening sound, and then Wrath drops to the floor like a bag of bricks.

  Blaise doesn't miss a beat, dashing toward a body on the ground.

  I lean over, trying to see who the person is. My breath catches in my throat. It's ... me.

  Blaise drops to his knees at my side and presses his finger to my pulse. He curses, leans down, and puts his ear next to my parted lips. Another curse leaves him, and then he positions his hands to my chest, and his arm muscles flex as he pumps my heart.

  "Come on, breathe, dammit," he growls. "You can't die on me now."

  My body lies motionless, my skin is pale, and my lips as red as the sky. My long, brown hair is sprawled out across the dirt, and flecks of quercu surround my head. I look hauntingly still, and if I had to guess, my skin is probably icy cold.

  "Come on, Allura," Blaise pleads as he places his fingers to my temple. He closes his eyes, his forehead creasing in deep concentration. He mutters words under his breath, growing frustrated, then withdraws his hands and lowers his lips to mine.

  I rub my eyes and blink a few times, watching Blaise try to breathe life into me. "How can this be possible? Am I ... dead?"

  "No, you're recharging using the moonstone hidden underneath the ground. No one knows it's there, or I'm sure they never would've built their camp here." A woman about five or six years older than me materializes by my side.

  Her raven black hair is matted, and she's dressed in a ratty shirt similar to the one I used to wear when I lived in the channels. Her transparent skin makes her face and body look boney and sunken in.

  "You're a Grim." I skitter away when she steps toward me.

  She freezes. "Not entirely."

  I reach to grip the last chair still intact, but my fingers slip through, and I fall flat onto my face. I scramble to my feet, breathing wildly. My hands shake as I elevate them in front of me.

  "What just happened? How did I do that?"

  She takes a cautious step toward me. "You did it because you're a spirit right now. Just like me. You're stuck, a faded memory, never to be found."

  "No, I'm not." I shake my head in denial. "If that were true, that means I'm a Grim."

  "No, you're a hybrid." She extends her hand toward me. "Just like me." Her fingers brush my arm, her touch warm. "God, it's been ages since I touched anyone. Since I died here, actually."