Forsaken

  "Since you died here ...? Wait. You're one of the hybrids who killed the Forsaken?" I sidestep away from her, bumping into the wall of the tent, and her hand falls from my arm.

  "We didn't mean to kill them," she replies sadly. "We were provoked, just like you were."

  I rub the spot where she touched me. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, if you would've tasted that quercu, it would've unleashed the Grim monster living inside you." Her gentleness turns harsh.

  I stare down at the leaves on the ground, remembering how desperately I wanted to taste them. "And if I don't? Then what?"

  "Then you stay in control." Her shoulders sag. "I wish I could have. Then maybe I wouldn't be buried in the ground. Then again, maybe I still would. People aren't fond of those who are different, and you and I are about as different as they come."

  "Are there ...? Are there a lot of us?"

  She wavers. "A few, but you're different from all of us."

  Shock scorches through me.

  "How?"

  She fiddles with a hole in the hem of her shirt. "Because you're the first."

  "The first what? Hybrid?"

  She hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip. "I don't know."

  I don't understand.

  "How can you know I'm the first something, but you don't know what that something is?"

  "Because I can feel it." She presses her palm to her chest. "In here."

  She's making no sense, but before I can ask her to explain herself better, Ryder yelps in pain, and my concentration darts to him. Wrath has woken up and now has Ryder turned onto his stomach and is stabbing him in the back with a small knife.

  "No!" The strangled scream comes from my own lips. "Somebody help him!"

  Blaise jerks his head up, and he scans the tent, looking confused.

  Did he just hear me?

  "Help Ryder!" I shout, getting right into his face.

  His brows shoot upward, and his head snaps in Ryder's direction. Cursing, he bounds to his feet, sprints toward Wrath, scoops up a broken piece of chair, and clocks Wrath in the side of the head with it.

  Wrath drops to the ground hard, and Blaise kneels and carefully turns Ryder over onto his back.

  "I'm good," Ryder croaks, trying to smile, but it looks wrong. Everything about Ryder does. His kind eyes are dull, and that vibrant spark he carries with him is fizzling.

  More Forsaken rush into the tent, armed with knives and guns. Chaos haunts the air, along with the foul stench of blood.

  "How do I help them?" My chest constricts as I whirl toward the woman. "The voice--your voice, I'm guessing--told me this could help me save them. That if I lay down, I could save them. How do I do it?" I think about what Reece told me about spirits and how Lex possessed my mind when I was in the caves. "Can I possess one of them?"

  She shakes her head. "Only a pure Grim can do that."

  "Then what can I do?"

  "The only way to help them is to let a memory go and return to your body."

  I squeeze my eyes as Ryder lets out an agonizing groan. God, I can't bear to hear any of them in pain.

  "Okay, how do I do that?"

  "You need to think about this," the woman says. "The memory that you have to let go is probably going to be an important one."

  "I don't care. You told me if I lay down and shut my eyes, I could save them."

  A scowl etches her face. "That wasn't me." She straightens her back and looks around at the torn walls of the tent, the broken fragments of wooden furniture all over the ground, and the knocked down curtains. "I don't think we're alone."

  Ryder groans again, and her words barely register.

  I inch toward her, deathly afraid but refusing to reveal my fear. "I don't care what's g-going on. Y-you know how to fix this. Now, please, just tell me how to do it." I'm crying so hard I can barely breathe.

  "I can't ..." She swiftly shakes her head, backing away from me, terrified. "You can't forget stuff. It's too important."

  "I won't ..." I crumble to the ground as two men seize Reece by the arms and drag him toward Zinnia, who has managed to escape the chain.

  They viciously shove him down, and his jaw clips the edge of the cracked trunk. He staggers before collapsing to his knees. The taller of the two men reaches inside his leather jacket and retrieves a gun.

  "No!" I shout as the man aims the barrel at the back of Reece's head.

  "Not yet," Zinnia groans hoarsely, rubbing her neck, her skin red and raw from where Reece choked her with the chain. "We need three of them for the sacrifice."

  "Fine." The taller man turns the gun around in his hand and clocks Reece over the head with the handle.

  Reece groans as his body slumps to the dirt, face first, and blood trickles from his temple.

  The man turns and points the gun at Ryder lying on the ground. "This one, on the other hand, is already dead." His finger hovers over the trigger.

  "No!" I rush forward, my heart thundering in my chest.

  All I can think about is getting to them, stopping Ryder from getting shot, waking up Reece, helping Blaise fight the three men and two women trying to pin him to the ground.

  Power surges through my veins, loading my body with raw, magnetic heat. For once, I feel strong, alert, hungry with the need to protect. I let the hunger consume me as I surrender to the silent whisper, begging me to let something go so I can reunite with my body. I feel myself tumbling. Slipping, slipping, slipping closer to present and farther from the past ...

  Chapter Fifteen

  Destruction

  I bolt upright, gasping for air, trying to figure out how I got on the ground. The last thing I remember is Wrath and Blaise fighting and me head-butting Wrath.

  I bring myself to a crouch and look around the tent. Any warmth is abruptly ripped from my body when my eyes rove toward the entrance of the tent.

  Ryder. On the ground. Blood. So much blood. And a guy is about to shoot him.

  I feel like I've missed out on moments leading to this point, but I act instinctively and sprint at an alarmingly fast pace. Strength pumps through my veins and fuels my body as I slam my palms against the guy pointing the gun at Ryder. A loud zap crackles through my body, and the man cries out in pain.

  Just how Lex stole life from my veins, I feel myself doing the same thing. I want to drink this guy dry, feed the monster inside me.

  "Don't do it," the voice whispers. "You can't ever let that hunger get control of you."

  My body goes rigid. Who said that?

  "Then what do I do?" I ask aloud.

  "Fight."

  Prying my hands off his back, I jump up and hitch my arms around the guy's neck. He chokes out, begging me to let him go, while Zinnia screams at everyone to stop me. I only squeeze more tightly, choking the air out of the man.

  Blaise moves up and snatches the gun from the guy's hands. Blood is splattered across his face like raindrops, and bruises and welts cover his face, but the bruises have already yellowed, quickly healing.

  What is he?

  Blaise catches my gaze, and not a speck of remorse haunts his eyes as he aims the gun at the guy.

  "Allura, get off him," he demands, his finger sliding over the trigger.

  Confused, I lower my feet to the ground and back away.

  The guy heaves for air, hunching over. "You shouldn't have done that. Now I'm going to kill her and make you watch--"

  A shot rings out, and I cower to the ground, covering my ears. The air buzzes, hot and metallic. Another fire. Then another. I flinch every single time, not daring to look up. I hunker down, close to the ground and crawl my way over to Ryder.

  His eyes are closed, his hand pressed to his chest, and every time he takes a breath, he coughs up blood.

  "Ryder," I whisper, wanting to help him but unsure what to do.

  His eyelids flutter open, and his eyes are glazed over. "Hey."

  I brush his hair out of his face. "What can I do to help?"

  He slips hi
s fingers through mine, his thumb skimming my palm. "There. Much better." His forehead creases, and he turns my hand over to examine my palm. "The cuts ... They're gone." He looks at me. "How?"

  I shake my head, tears burning in my eyes. "I just ... I can't ..." How am I supposed to tell him that I'm not what he thinks I am? That I can heal myself?

  My eyes close. God, I wish I could heal him like I do myself. If only I could... if only ...

  A few tears escape my eyes and stream down my cheeks, but I quickly wipe them away and open my eyes to inspect his chest.

  "There has to be a way to stop the bleeding."

  "Blaise can fix this." He squeezes my hand, his voice hoarse. "Don't worry. We just need to get out of here."

  I glance over my shoulder at Blaise. He has his gun pointed at the Forsaken, and they have theirs aimed at him and Reece. They're all throwing threats at each other, but it's clear who the outnumbered side is.

  I return my attention back to Ryder. "How can he help you?"

  The corners of his lips pull into a tired smile. "He'll stitch me up and give me a shot."

  My brows dip. "Oh."

  "You were thinking something magical, weren't you?"

  I nod, feeling silly. "I kind of was."

  "That's okay." He coughs, his shoulders heaving. "It's understandable, considering."

  I swallow hard. Ryder saw me trying to eat the quercu. Did he see the monster living inside me? Does he know?

  "It's okay." He squeezes my hand again, his grip weakening. "I know you're not like them."

  My lips quiver as I battle back the tears. "How can you stand to look at me?"

  "How can I not?" His gaze drifts over my shoulder.

  "What do you think you're doing, cowering on the ground like a coward?" Calla asks from behind me.

  I turn around, ready to fight, but mid-turn, a knife jabs through my chest in the center of my heart. A whimper flees my lips as I press my hand to the bleeding wound.

  Calla clutches the bloody knife in her hand, staring at me with utter hatred in her eyes. I can't entirely blame her after she lost her whole family to hybrids and thinks I'm one.

  "You deserve this," she says, "for being what you are."

  Part of me believes her, believes I deserve to die. But the stronger part of me refuses to give in.

  Fight! Allura! Fight!

  And just like when I was in my cell and fought to give up, I fight not to die.

  "Allura!" Blaise runs toward me, winding around a few bodies on the floor.

  I wonder if they're all dead or if some of them have just passed out. Did Blaise kill all these people?

  When Blaise reaches us, he rips the knife from Calla's hand with murderous rage gleaming in his eyes. Calla spins on her heels and dives for him, but Blaise's swiftness is no match for her.

  He easily dodges to the right and moves to slice the blade across her throat.

  "No!" I skitter between them with my arms spanned out. "Don't kill her. There's already been too much destruction." Destruction that would've never happened if I didn't exist.

  Guilt clenches at my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  "I don't need your help," Calla seethes from behind me.

  Blaise barely stops right before the knife spears my chest, and he wrenches back. "Are you crazy? She stabbed you ..." His jaw ticks as he stares at the blood dripping from the hole in my chest. "She deserves to die, Allura, so move out of my way."

  I hug my arms around myself, shivering from the cold consuming my body. Something's wrong. Why am I not healing?

  "Blaise ..." I set my hand on the open wound in my chest. "Something's ... wrong ..." I teeter sideways, woozy and disoriented.

  Blaise's rage evaporates and turns to worry. He drops the knife to catch me in his arms and lowers us down to the ground.

  "We're going to get you out of this." He places his hand on the hole in my chest, and blood coats his fingers. "Why aren't you healing?"

  "I don't know ..." I wheeze. "You keep saying ... You're going to get me out of this." My lungs burn as I struggle for oxygen. "But maybe ... it might be better ... if I ... just die--"

  "No." His sharp tone silences me. "I won't let you."

  I gasp for my next breath. "But you saw what I did ... You saw me try to ... eat the quercu. And I wanted to."

  He brushes my hair away from my damp forehead, his fingers trembling. "I don't care what you tried to do or what you are. You just saved someone who stabbed you. There's not a bad bone in your entire body."

  I don't agree with him. I've wanted to hurt people before. Wanted to feed off them. Like the guy whose neck I almost broke and in the memory when the guy tried to kiss me. I'm a monster, always have been. Or have I?

  A memory prickles at my mind.

  "You're the first."

  I think I've been told that before, but I can't remember when or what it means.

  I open my mouth. "Blaise ... I think I--"

  A series of sirens fire off, and then an unnerving silence clutches the air. I move to sit up, but my lethargic body refuses to budge.

  "Allura," Blaise hisses, his arms stiffening. "Don't make any sudden movements."

  I suck in a painful breath as I angle my head and look around. Every Forsaken has frozen and turned toward the open flap of the tent.

  "They're here," an older woman whispers, her hand shaking as she puts her knife into her holster.

  "What is it?" I ask Blaise. "Why did everyone stop fighting?"

  "I'm not sure," Blaise mutters, drawing me closer to him.

  "The Deorum are here," Zinnia says with pure glee. Droplets of blood speckle her face and hair, and she has a gun pointed at Reece's chest. "Now, this ends."

  Reece has his hands in the air to the sides of him. "What ends?"

  Zinnia's eyes dance with excitement. "You'll soon find out."

  Ryder gives Blaise an inconspicuous glance, and I have the feeling they're nonverbally making another plan.

  Blaise nods once then scans the tent. "We need to get you out of here."

  "What about Reece and Ryder?" I fight the drowsiness threatening to pull me under. "We should help the other people in the grates, too. There was a child in there."

  Blaise straightens his legs and pushes to his feet, lifting me in his arms. "Reece will get Ryder, but Allura, we don't have time to free everyone--"

  Loud thuds rumble through the tent, like the marching of a thousand warriors. The earsplitting noise claws at my eardrums, and my stomach churns, ready to hurl.

  "What is that?" I ask, but my voice gets lost in the thumping.

  "We have your sacrifices!" Zinnia calls out with her arms spread wide, the gun still in her hand but no longer aimed at Reece. "But before we make the exchange, I need to know how you let her into our camp. She's one of them. She's plagued with the hunger for life. I've seen it with my own eyes."

  "She's not a hybrid. Don't blame this on us." The low voice is startlingly close.

  Blaise reacts, jumping to the side, just as a handful of figures file into the tent and surround us.

  My lips part in shock at the sight them. Tall, broad, and dressed head to toe in black, metal armor, and concealing their faces are masks that look similar to the ones the Forsaken wore when we first entered the camp. They aren't carrying weapons, but they're wearing packs on their backs that blend with their armor. I have no idea what they are. Grim? Human? Machine?

  "Shit," Blaise mutters under his breath, backing away from them. "Where the hell did they come from?"

  "The ground," I whisper, and he gapes down at me. "Calla, the girl who brought me to Zinnia, told me they live in the ground."

  "If she's not a hybrid, then what is she?" Zinnia asks, approaching the group of Deorum pushing their way into the tent. "Is she Grim?"

  "No," the one standing at the front of the group answers. His voice is deep and sounds male. "She's something else."

  While I can't see his eyes through the mask, I can feel his
gaze boring into me. I have the strongest urge to look away, but I can't seem to take my eyes off him. What the heck is he?

  He shakes his head and turns to address Zinnia. "We can't take her."

  "What do you mean you can't take her?" Zinnia asks. "She should count for three people if she's that different."

  "Taking her would mean choosing to go to war with the watchers. They'd kill to get their hands on her." He crosses his arms, his arms clinking. "We will not choose war. Our kind has been at war with the Grim before, and we suffered for centuries. We won't do it again."

  "Really? The Grim want her?" Zinnia's brows rise. "Maybe I should keep her then and offer her to the Grim."

  "If you do, you'll be breaking your truce with us," he warns. "And we will no longer offer you any protection."

  "Maybe I'll risk it." Zinnia stares him down defiantly. "The Grim are more powerful than you, anyway. They could offer us better protection."

  He laughs hollowly, slanting toward her. "Like they would ever offer you protection. You're pathetic. Look at you, offering your own to us just so you can spare a few lives of your own kind." He motions around at the tent filled with Forsaken. "You hate hybrids because they murdered your families, but you do the same thing to others by stealing their children, their mothers, their fathers, and offering them to us."

  "How dare you insult my people!" Zinnia's expression turns savage as she steps toward him. A few of the Forsaken match her movement, closing in on the Deorum. "You know nothing of our suffering." She dares another step closer. "And at least we stay up here and fight, unlike you who hide underground like a bunch of cowards."

  "Don't you dare speak of things you do not understand. You have no idea what my people have been through," he snarls, refusing to back down.

  The Deorum behind him take measured steps forward, and the Forsaken do the same. An impending fight lingers in the air, heavy and potent. Blaise must sense it, because he starts inching his way toward the side of the tent, taking small but calculated steps.

  I search the tent for Reece and Ryder, but an image surfaces in my mind and completely blinds me.

  The darkened sky crumples like burned paper, raining onto the ground where figures cry over the loss of their loved ones. I can't see any of their faces, just shadows of figures dressed in heavy metal armor. The Deorum?

  How would I know this? How do I know anything?

  I strain my eyes, desperate to see more, but the images fade away like a dimming light.