The Warrior

  I take a few slow steps and peer around the bend. Charlie follows behind me, though I can tell she’s hesitant about eavesdropping. The two of them are standing in a small room outside the kitchen area. It holds mismatched silver serving utensils, bold green plates, and porcelain coffee cups. A single dim light glimmers overhead, casting long shadows across the area. We watch them in silence, invisible to their eyes. I know Kraven must sense my dargon. Then again, he’s probably not being aware like he instructed us to be.

  “I can’t keep doing this,” Annabelle says. “I need to focus on my friend.”

  “Then don’t,” Kraven growls.

  My jaw tightens and the wind howls.

  Annabelle turns to him and a new look crosses her face. It’s one of silent pain. And it’s one that makes me feel as if we’re intruding. I mean, we are intruding. But with everything going on in the Hive, I won’t risk being in the dark about anything.

  “My Belle,” he breathes.

  “I don’t want this anymore,” she says. “Not like this. Not this back and forth and indecisiveness.”

  “I should never have touched you.”

  Hell, yeah, you shouldn’t of. Jaysus, I want to kill Kraven for what I just heard.

  “Then why did you?” Annabelle’s pained expression is gone, replaced by anger. “If you knew you couldn’t be with me, why? Or maybe you can be with me; maybe you just don’t want to be?”

  Kraven spins away from her, his shoulders tightening.

  “Coward,” she whispers.

  “Liar!” she yells.

  “I never lied to you,” he says.

  “Oh, you didn’t?” Annabelle is crying now. “You didn’t lie when you said you wanted this to work? You did lie! You’re giving up because you don’t want this.”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he responds with defeat.

  Annabelle covers her heart. “I’m already hurt.”

  “Not like that,” he says. “I can’t protect anyone if my mind is always on you.”

  Annabelle’s hands drop to her sides and she screams, “Your mind is never on me!”

  Kraven whirls around and crashes across the room. The storm seems to thunder along with his footsteps. His arms land on either side of her and he growls like a monster. I move to run inside, to help Annabelle rid herself of this psycho. But then Kraven’s mouth is on Annabelle’s and his arms are around her waist.

  Charlie is pulling at my shirt, telling me without speaking that we should leave. Now. But I keep watching.

  Annabelle kisses Kraven back and then shoves him away. Her hand whips across his face in a stinging slap, and then she’s kissing him again. Her bare feet shuffle across the floor as she releases him a second time and starts to hurry away.

  Kraven grabs her wrist. “Please.”

  She slaps him again, harder this time.

  He doesn’t even flinch. His jaw is set and his brows are furrowed. He appears angry, furious even, but I spot the sorrow easily enough.

  Without turning around, Annabelle says, “I came to tell you something tonight.” She places a hand on her stomach like she’s going to be sick. “But I’ve decided it’s a secret I can keep.”

  Annabelle turns the corner and Charlie has to press herself against the opposite wall to avoid being seen. As Annabelle walks out of the room and down a short corridor, seeking her bed, she seems older. She’s not simply a teen girl anymore, I realize. Annabelle has become a woman in these weeks at the Hive. She’s fallen in love, she’s carried the fear of war like a soldier, and she’s been a true support system for Charlie.

  Annabelle always says she wants to take a more active part in our cause.

  But look at her go.

  The North Star of the Hive.

  29

  The Screams Beneath Our Feet

  The next morning, Charlie and I discuss the missing part of the scroll and what we witnessed between Annabelle and Kraven. My girlfriend is mortified that we spied on them. Me, not so much. Eventually, we decide to leave our unanswered questions and go into the shared living space. As soon we do, we’re greeted by a young girl bringing breakfast. Her hair is the color of peaches and her eyes are an all-seeing green. She sets down the tray and smiles at Blue with the sweetness of a honeycomb.

  He doesn’t return the gesture.

  Nobody remarks on his coldness as the girl leaves. I understand it. The girl he’s fallen for isn’t here, and he can’t imagine looking at anyone else.

  As we eat red potatoes and scrambled eggs mixed with cottage cheese, I try not to stare at Annabelle. She’s this new person I don’t quite understand. But when she catches me looking and hurls a potato straight at my crotch, I know the old Annabelle is still in there; the girl who likes black and white movies and hates skinny jeans. The girl who loves shooting hoops with Blue.

  The girl who must miss her parents.

  I wonder for a moment how terrified they must be, and how she must worry about what they think. And what of Blue’s parents who lost their son? Or the school that had three students vanish within a few weeks of each other?

  If they ever return to their hometowns, there will be a lot of questions to be answered.

  “You okay?” Charlie asks, squeezing my thigh.

  I lean over my plate and kiss her. She smiles against my mouth.

  “Gross,” Annabelle says.

  “I’m eating,” Blue says.

  I pull away and laugh. Then I launch a potato at Blue and another at Annabelle. Charlie elbows me when I try to replace my lost potato rockets with two from her own plate.

  “Forget it, buster,” she says.

  …

  By lunch, we’ve wrapped up Sector 4 training. Kraven admits we’re rock stars at killing people, though not in those words. Fear races through my body realizing how swiftly we’re moving through these levels. The war is days away, and we’re on borrowed time until the sirens launch another preliminary attack.

  Kraven explains what Sector 5 will entail—utilizing wings in combat. A nervousness flutters across the room, but the liberators are also eager. To date, Kraven, Rector, and I have been the only ones capable of summoning our wings.

  A faint burning smell touches my nose as Kraven’s white wings spring from his back, slicing a path through his cream colored T-shirt. Kraven motions to me and I do the same, though mine are coated in black feathers. Rector’s wings weren’t like either of ours; his were a black leathery material, frayed at the edges.

  Kraven walks to Valery and explains what she must do to summon. “Reach inside yourself. Push the darkness out, and find something pure you can hold onto.”

  Valery pulls her long red hair into a ponytail and sashays past him. She cocks a full hip to one side and white-feathered wings rise from her back, arching over her head.

  “Baby!” Max exclaims.

  Red blushes at her fiancé’s praise.

  Kraven examines her wings. “You’ve been practicing for some time.”

  A smile sweeps over her face. “Ever since I saw yours the night Rector stole Charlie’s soul,” she says. “I figured it out a few days ago.”

  Kraven backs away from Valery’s wings and she lowers them. He addresses the room. “Anyone else?”

  Nothing happens, and maybe I’m happy for it. I’m proud that Valery got her wings without help, but I kind of liked being the big shot. Not that I’m any less of a stunner now that Red’s packing feathers.

  Paine steps forward and so does Neco. White wings rise from behind them.

  Damn it.

  Kraven claps with delight but doesn’t smile. It’s a creepy combination, though that doesn’t really surprise me. “Excellent.” His gaze lowers. “We’re getting close.”

  Blue’s face burns bright red when Kraven looks at him with a question. He shakes his head.

  “That’s okay. That’s what training is for.” Kraven looks at Max, and Max shakes his head like Blue did. “There are seven of us in this room with dargon. And two
more liberators keeping watch over something we will need for war.”

  “What’s that?” Valery asks.

  He doesn’t answer her, and my heart sets ablaze with pride. He hasn’t told anyone else about the weapon room, which means even if he didn’t tell me about the missing part of the scroll, the dude is totally starting to trust me. I wonder if it’d be weird for me to tackle hug him. I decide to save it for later. This probably means we’re like co-leaders, equal power and crap. I’m so money.

  “I can help Max and Blue if you want to work with the others,” I say.

  Kraven eyes me. He nods.

  Oh, snap! Did everyone see that? Dante Walker is calling the shots. Pow!

  For the next couple of hours, Valery, Paine, and Neco learn how to sweep someone’s legs beneath them with their wing. They learn how to throw a body across the room by whipping their feathered appendages across their body. And they learn how to fly a few feet off the ground. The three liberators are far from practiced, but they’re learning quickly.

  Blue and Max, on the other hand, still can’t summon their wings. I spew all the same mumble jumble Kraven did.

  Reject the darkness.

  Think of something pure and hold onto it.

  Blue reaches out to touch my wings. “Why are your wings black?”

  I slap his hand away. “You want to grab my junk, too? Keep your nappy hands to yourself.”

  “Yes, Dante,” Kraven says from across the room. “Why are your wings black?”

  I glare at him.

  Because I don’t believe He cares. Because no matter what happens, I won’t rely on anyone but myself to fight this fight.

  Because my darkness is not something I’ll ever release.

  When we trek down to the great room to grab dinner, I’m amazed by what I see. The humans are lined up in neat rows of eight. Before them, the jackrabbits demonstrate combat techniques. The humans watch on with the focus of a bomb squad. They’re good, better than I ever would have expected. Lincoln has had his hands on these people for one day and already they fight with determination and confidence.

  The dude runs things like a general, striding up and down in front of his soldiers, monitoring their progress. He even wears a brown militaristic uniform that someone must have made him in the late night hours. It’s pretty ridiculous in all honesty, but I can’t say I’m surprised to see him sporting it. I just wonder what his father would say if he saw his skittish Goth kid now.

  What really impresses me though is Annabelle. She works beside Lincoln, moving the humans into groups and showing them what they’re doing right, and what they still need to work on. Seeing her, I laugh so hard my gut aches. That Annabelle; she’s been spying on our training sessions. Kraven is grinding his teeth so hard he’s going to need dentures.

  I grip his shoulder. “Calm down. You should be happy that she’s determined to help. And it’s good that she knows how to protect herself.”

  “This war won’t happen here.” His whole body shakes with fury, or maybe fear. “But when it does, Annabelle won’t be anywhere nearby.”

  “Hey, Paine,” Annabelle calls out.

  Paine waves and a mammoth grin narrows his features. Kraven stares at Annabelle smiling, Annabelle training, Annabelle flirting. Then he spins on his heel and he’s gone. Annabelle’s face falls. I don’t feel sorry for her. In fact, the person I feel sorry for is Paine. He and his plaid shirts and British accent are going to have a broken heart when this is all said and done.

  I follow after Kraven, but take a right turn where he takes a left. Soon after, I step inside Oswald’s basement. Charlie is seated in a simple wooden chair in the center of the room. Her eyes are closed and concentration runs so deeply on her face that it unnerves me. Oswald is bending down on her left side, whispering in her ear.

  I start to come in, but Oswald holds up a firm hand. He shakes his head no, and then continues speaking soft words to my girl. He stands, clutches his dung brown robe, and says, “Try again. Focus.”

  My stomach flips as Charlie slowly raises her arms. Her hands stretch out in front of her and her eyes remain shut. A perfect harmony rolls over her body, and it’s as if she’s alight with peace.

  “You can do this,” Oswald implores.

  At first, nothing happens. Then a crackling blue light blooms in her palms and crawls over her fingers and the back of her hands. It’s like her entire hand is a ball of blue fire.

  “Yes,” Oswald says, almost too enthusiastically. “Hold it, now. Hold it.”

  The blue light vanishes and Charlie slumps forward.

  I rush forward and grab her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  Her head snaps up. She smiles that angel smile and I flinch from the pureness. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see how you were progressing.” Even though I’m wary of the energy I saw radiating from her hands, I tug her against me. She wraps her arms around my torso and buries her head into my stomach. Then she lets go and lightly pushes me away.

  “I have to keep working,” she says. “A few more hours.”

  My brow furrows. “But it’s late. Aren’t you hungry?”

  Her back straightens. “I have to keep working.”

  I examine my girlfriend. She’s become so strong, so determined. It scares the ever loving piss out of me. Maybe I want her to need me. Maybe I’d hoped that when the morning of war came, Charlie would flee to the darkest corner she could find and hide until it was all over. At least then I’d know she was safe.

  But the resolution in the set of her shoulders and the tightness around her eyes tells me I’m dreaming. Charlie will fight, and why not? She cares about the fate of mankind perhaps more than any of us. And she is powerful.

  Paine stumbles into the room. “Hey, D, Kraven wanted me to tell you…” He stops speaking suddenly and his mouth gapes open. “Why are there so many lamps down here?”

  “I like them,” Oswald says in a small voice.

  “How did you get them all here?” Paine asks in an even smaller voice.

  Oswald blushes. “Some of the staff members made them for me. See, this one is actually made from an old broom handle, and this one—”

  Paine’s nose wrinkles in disgust and he takes a small, almost unperceivable step back. “I don’t like this one bit.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” I ask. “You act like you just saw your mama in a sex swing.”

  Paine shakes his head. “I don’t like lamps.”

  “Why?” Charlie says without a hint of laughter.

  “It’s the light bulbs.” Paine wipes a hand across his brow. The kid’s sweating like a pig on the spit. “I don’t like when you screw them in. You never know if the thing is on or off, and then it zaps on right as you make that last twist of the bulb.” He shakes his head again. “It’s always on. No matter how sure you are that it isn’t.”

  “A fear of screwing in light bulbs,” I say in disbelief. “That’s pretty jacked up, Paine.”

  He grins.

  Charlie stands from the chair and starts to say something.

  But then—

  The basement is ablaze with screams.

  The four of us search for the source of the screaming, but we don’t see anyone. The sound is terrible and bone-chilling, and it seems to arise from inside my head.

  “I think it’s beneath us,” Oswald yells.

  The bells start ringing.

  “Stay here with them,” I order Paine.

  I’m gone, racing toward Kraven’s chambers, the screams growing louder. I turn once and see Charlie running behind me. Though I hate her being exposed like this, I don’t ask her to turn back. At least this way I can keep an eye on her. We run side by side until we reach Kraven’s room. When I don’t immediately see Kraven, I dive through the fireplace and urge Charlie to follow. I’ve told her about this place, but she has yet to see it for herself. We run downward until we reach the weaponry room. As we stumble inside, I spot a black hole squeezing clo
sed at the Quiet Ones’ feet.

  Many of the weapons are gone—even the sparrow—but that’s not what bothers me most.

  It’s the Quiet Ones, heads tilted back, mouths open. Together, they wail this high-pitched cry that seeps into my very soul and slashes it to pieces. It’s a sound that says something significant has happened. It’s the sound that marks a date people will remember. The noise has no beginning and no end. It just is. The two women hold hands and their eyes leak tears onto pink cheeks. And they scream.

  They stand with perfect posture, lips curled back, and they scream.

  30

  Liar

  Kraven arrives inside the weapons room a beat after I do. He manages to calm the Quiet Ones and sends them to bed. They shake and mumble to themselves as they pass by and slip under the small door. Charlie accompanies them to ensure they are okay.

  They spoke. The Quiet Ones spoke, sort of.

  I’m attempting to wrap my head around this, and the fact that the sparrow sword is gone, when Kraven grabs ahold of my shirt and throws me across the room. He jerks a finger in my face. “You! I thought I could trust you!” He rears back and lands a blow directly into my stomach. I double over in pain. Kraven shoves my shoulder so that I’m upright and then hits me swiftly across the face. I go down like a ten-dollar whore.

  “What are you—?”

  It’s all I get out before he kicks me into the remaining shields. I finally gather that I’m getting my ass handed to me and go on the offense. I crack Kraven straight in the nose and when he hunches over, I throw an uppercut into his side. He groans and curls in on himself. Then he straightens, his chest rising and falling quickly, betrayal etched into his features.

  “I didn’t tell anyone about the weapons,” I say, understanding at once what this is about.

  “Liar,” he snarls.

  “Only Charlie.” I throw a third punch into his gut for good measure. Also, because Kraven’s accusation hurts worse than his fists. I thought he trusted me. I thought he saw the good in me, yet as soon as the cards fall I’m the first person he blames.

  “You’re the only one who knew,” he growls, though some of the fight is gone from his voice.