by Lola StVil
She pauses for a moment and then goes on.
“I was willing to sacrifice my life for Drew’s, and you took that choice away from me. That makes me feel like you have no respect for the choices I make. Like you don’t value me at all.”
“We all make bad choices sometimes, and what you did was a bad choice. You put your heart above your head, and your actions had a negative effect on the quest we have to complete. I value you as a member of the team, but I won’t stand by and let you, or anyone else, railroad this quest,” Atlas says.
“Wow,” Langston breathes. “You really are stone cold. Kane really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
I see her flinch at the mention of my name, but she recovers quickly, and I don’t think anyone else noticed.
Did I really hurt her so badly that she’s turned cold?
I shake my head. This has nothing to do with me. Atlas did what she had to do, and Langston has trained for this quest her whole life. She should understand that better than most people could.
“This has nothing to do with Kane. Yes, I made a mistake thinking he could be good. But I rectified that mistake,” Atlas says.
It didn’t feel rectified when we were rolling around on the stairs. And it certainly didn’t feel like a mistake.
Her words hurt me almost as much as that look on her face hurt me as she gathered her clothes after we screwed, but I console myself by telling myself she’s only saying what Langston needs to hear. It would be nice if I could actually bring myself to believe that.
“We need to move on from this. Do you have anything else to say about it?” Atlas asks.
“Yeah. I fucking hate you,” Langston says.
Atlas shrugs.
“I can’t force you to like me. I’m not even going to try. But I do expect you to follow my orders. We have a quest to complete, and I won’t have it made harder because you refuse to do as you’re told. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Langston whispers with ice.
I can see it’s bothering her. She doesn’t want to take orders from someone she hates, but she knows that ultimately she has no other choice. Atlas has backed her into a corner and she has nowhere left to run.
“Good,” Atlas says.
She extends her gaze to the rest of the team, looking at each one of them in turn.
“Does anyone else have an opinion on this that they’d like to share?”
The team all mutter variations of no. None of them will meet Atlas’s eye or Langston’s. It’s clear to me that they all have an opinion on what’s happened, but I can understand why no one speaks up. They don’t want to take sides.
I have to wonder how many of them secretly respect the choice Atlas made. Those are the ones she needs on her side. The ones who appreciate that leaders have to make hard choices and stand by them, even when they aren’t popular choices.
“Good,” she says.
She looks around at the team and nods to herself as though she’s decided something.
“Remy, I had a little visit with your pain dealer last night, as you know. I’ve made it clear to him that if you should show up there again, he’s not to do business with you.”
Remy looks down at the floor.
“Umm, you know there are others, right?” Saudia says.
Atlas nods. “I do, but I trust Remy to make the right choice and keep away from them.”
Remy’s head comes up at this.
“I… I appreciate that you have faith in me. But I’m not so sure I can do it. It’s the only way to make the pain stop.”
“Then, in that case, I’m ordering you to stay away from them. You can’t think straight when you’ve visited those monsters, and I’ll be honest. I’m afraid that if you keep doing this, we’ll lose you altogether.”
“Thank you,” Remy says.
I raise an eyebrow. I expected her to argue. That shit pain dealers do is so addictive. Maybe there’s more to Remy than I thought. Her thank you wasn’t sarcastic. She really wants to stop, and Atlas making it an order will make it easier for her to do so.
I know I should feel bad for Remy, but the truth is, I don’t. I can’t pretend I care that her parents are dead. Atlas was right about there being no good left in me.
“We have Dax’s location now, and we need to start making a move on him. We have a couple of hours before we leave. Quinn, get your mixtures in order and grab anything you think we can use. The rest of you, get some rest and make sure you’re ready for this when it happens,” Atlas says.
She pauses and looks at Langston.
“Langston, go and say your goodbyes to Drew,” she says gently.
After everything, Atlas still has a heart underneath all the talk of being ruled by her head. It’s obvious that she regrets what she did, even though it was necessary, and it’s killing her knowing how much pain she’s caused Langston.
“Perry, will you go with her?” she asks.
Perry nods.
“Okay, let’s meet back here in two hours. Get some rest; we will need all the strength we can get.”
I’ve never seen Atlas in leader mode before, and I like it. The way she took charge of everything was really fucking hot. There’s going to be no stopping her now. She’s truly focused on her quest, and that means I have to find a way to stop her before she gets herself hurt or killed.
Atlas turns away from the team and leaves the room. She heads for the stairs and runs up to her bedroom. I know I should turn the tracker off, but she looks so broken I don’t think I can bring myself to let go of her right now.
She sits down in a chair and stares blankly out the window. Tears pour down her cheeks. I’d give anything to be able to hold her, to kiss her, to take her pain away.
There’s a light knock on her door, and she quickly wipes her eyes.
“Come in,” she says.
The door opens and Regal steps in.
“What do you need?” she asks, sniffling.
He ignores the question and sits down on the bed.
“I just wanted to see if you’re okay,” he says.
Atlas snorts out a laugh.
“In less than a day, I’ve killed someone innocent, made Langston hate me, and… oh, never mind what else. Yeah, I’m just great, thanks,” she snaps.
Regal recoils slightly at her words. She sighs.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ll be fine.”
“Langston won’t hate you forever. Let her calm down a bit, and she’ll see you only did what you had to do,” Regal says.
“So, you think I did the right thing?” she asks.
“I think you did the only thing you could do at the moment,” Regal says.
“Thank you,” Atlas says.
She reaches out and squeezes his hand.
“Seriously. It means a lot to know not everyone hates me.”
I frown. When I told Atlas she did the only thing she could do, she told me I was a monster and she hated me. But Regal says it and she thanks him. What the fuck? I knew there was a reason I hated that guy. Other than his overinflated sense of self-righteousness.
“Atlas, what happened the other night—” Regal starts.
She cuts in.
“Yeah. I guess it hasn’t just been today that I’ve been making mistakes after all. Look, I think we both know the kiss meant nothing and that it should never have happened. Let’s just try and forget about it.”
Regal nods, but it takes him a fraction of a second too long, and his mask slipped for a moment when she said it didn’t mean anything.
“I’ll leave you alone. Just let me know if you need anything.”
Atlas smiles.
“I will. Thanks, Regal.”
I turn the Beeline off. I’ve heard more than enough.
So, Regal kissed Atlas? Maybe he isn’t the good guy he claims to be. It’s hardly a nice guy trait, cheating on your girlfriend. I’m evil, and I know that shit is wrong.
And it might not have meant anything to Atlas—it b
etter fucking not have—but it sure as hell meant something to him.
I could see it written all over his face. He likes her. As way more than a friend and a team member. I know that look he wore when she said the kiss meant nothing. It’s the same one I had on my face when Atlas told me she hated me.
It’s a look that says yeah, I’m down with that, but it means something entirely different. It’s the look you wear when you’re being torn apart inside but can never admit to it.
I stand up and pace the floor.
Atlas and Regal. Regal and Atlas.
I keep seeing them kissing in my head. I can see him reaching out and pulling her into his arms. I can see his lips on hers, his hands all over her.
I feel a rage more intense than any I’ve felt in a long time, maybe forever. I have to do something to get this rage out of me before it boils over and I can’t think straight.
With an angry roar, I reach out and swipe everything from the coffee table. Books fly through the air, landing with a bang on the hardwood floor. The glass that sat there shatters, its pieces scattering all across the floor.
I suddenly know why I’ve never felt rage like this before. It’s not normal rage. It’s jealousy.
I’m jealous of fucking Regal. Who would ever have believed it? And it hurts me to know that Atlas kissed him, even if she was telling the truth when she said it meant nothing to her.
I’ve never cared enough about anyone to feel anything even close, and I don’t like it. I don’t fucking like it at all.
But one good thing has come out of this. It’s given me clarity. I know now which of Atlas’s team I’ll be killing first. I turn menacingly towards Regal.
Yes, I will kill him. The only question is how slow and painful his death should be.
I imagine myself walking up to Regal, seeing the smug look on his face as he looks into my eyes knowing he kissed her. I’ll wipe that fucking look off his face. Better yet, I’ll just rip his whole fucking face off.
I reach out and wrap my hands around his neck and I squeeze. I don’t let go. I slowly apply more pressure, watching as his skin turns from tan to red to angry purple as the blood vessels burst.
I imagine him wiggling in my grasp, kicking and scratching, and as my hands tighten, the motion slows down and stops. I squeeze even tighter, although I know he’s dead. I squeeze until I hear bones cracking and snapping and his skin splits open, his blood cascading over my hands. He doesn’t look so fucking smug now.
And then I drop him like the trash he is.
That’s exactly what I want to do, but I can’t. My love for Atlas is stronger than my hatred for Regal, which throws me for a loop. I’ve never felt anything strong enough to throw me off course if someone has pissed me off before.
I don’t know how I feel about that, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. Just like I don’t have time to kill Regal. Not yet.
Atlas is dangerously close to finding Dax, and there’s no doubt in my mind that when she does, she’ll get the key to the Isle of Grey from him one way or another. I can’t let that happen.
With a huge effort, I push aside my feelings about Regal. There’ll be plenty of time to deal with him after this is done.
I’ve done a bit of digging into the enchantment on the Isle of Grey myself, and the only way to get through it is by using a special key that only Dax has. So, killing him, which would be the easy option, isn’t going to be enough.
Atlas wouldn’t let that stop her; she’d still go after the key. So instead of killing Dax, I have to find a way to get the key off him and then find a way to destroy it.
From what Atlas said to the team, I have about a two-hour head start on them. I hope it’s enough time. It has to be.
It’s fair to say Dax is a recluse, an introvert who hates people. The orb revealed his location, and I was able to see it through the Beeline. He is in the middle of the Sahara Desert, which I have to say is a good way to stay off the grid.
I open a portal and step through. I emerge on a large sandy plain. Dax’s shack sits in the middle of several tall sandy dunes.
The air is so hot I can feel the heat in my mouth and nose, and there’s not a drop of humidity in the air. The land is arid, no greenery anywhere. The sun shines brightly above with no clouds to provide even minimal shade. Dax is either a huge sun worshipper or completely crazy.
The atmosphere shimmers as I take a step forward. Too late, I work out what the shimmering is. I thought it was the heat, but it’s not. It’s Dax’s way of knowing if anyone is approaching. I step through the shimmering barrier, and I’m instantly rewarded with a cool breeze that stirs my hair and clothes. Lush green grass and trees surround what was once a shack but is now a futuristic mix of glass and chrome.
A figure appears in front of me from out of nowhere. Like literally out of nowhere. One minute, I was alone, the next I’m standing face-to-face with Dax.
He’s tall, around six feet, and he’s thin. He wears black jeans and a long black coat that flaps around him, giving him an almost bat-like appearance. His face is snake-like, his black eyes like slits in his face, and his tongue keeps darting out and licking his pale lips. His hair, too, is black, and it hangs in greasy strands around his face. His skin is so pale I can almost see my reflection in it.
He doesn’t look like a man who lives in a desert, but his little oasis obviously protects him from the sun. It still sits blazing above us, but I can no longer feel the heat from it.
“What is your purpose here, Demon?” he demands.
I try not to let him know he’s managed to get underneath my skin already.
“I’ve come to gain access to the Isle of Grey. I need the key,” I say.
I don’t really expect him just to hand it over, but it’s worth a try. Maybe he’s so desperate to be left alone that he’ll give it to me just to get rid of me.
No luck. Naturally.
“Then you’re out of luck,” Dax says.
He turns away from me, heading back to his house.
“I said I need that key. We can do this the hard way, or we can do it the easy way,” I say.
He turns back to me, a sneer on his thin lips.
“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? I can see why Arken chose you as the Keysu. But he didn’t bank on you being a fool, did he?”
I take a step towards Dax. He neither backs off nor steps forward to meet me.
“Whoever would have believed that a creature like you could be capable of love? And the fact that you fell in love with the Seeker. Well, that’s a twist no one saw coming.”
I’m still seething from the fool comment. I didn’t come here to be insulted, and Dax is about to find out the hard way what happens when you piss me off.
“If I give you the key, it won’t stop her, you know,” Dax says. “She’ll play you. Seduce you to get her way. Just like she did yesterday.”
How did she play me yesterday? Wait, how the fuck did he know about that? This guy is a lunatic, I decide.
But he does have a point about the key. I’m not seriously going to give it to her just because she flutters her eyelashes at me, but if it came down to her walking away from me for good if I refused to hand it over, I’m not sure I could resist.
“So don’t give me the key. Destroy it instead,” I say.
“And what’s in that for me?” Dax asks.
“Well, it would piss Sadie off,” I say.
I found out recently that Dax hates Sadie, so I’m hoping that will be incentive enough.
“It would,” he agrees thoughtfully. “But it would bother her much more to have her little golden girl killed. This is why I’ll be handing over the key to Atlas, and only Atlas. You know, I’ll be doing you a favor, too. Loving her has made you soft. And keeping this ridiculous infatuation you have with her will end in your demise.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. He’s absolutely spot-on. Loving Atlas has been nothing but trouble, and I have no doubt he’s right about how it will turn out.
“You think I’m bluffing?” he says, his face showing his displeasure.
I didn’t, but maybe if I can convince him that’s what I think, I can work it to my advantage. It’s obvious he isn’t just going to hand over the key, and I can’t kill him until I know where it is.
“I think you’re just a sad old man who has secluded himself from everyone yet still craves attention so badly that he has people think he has this important key when really he doesn’t have shit,” I say.
“You don’t think I have the key?”
Dax’s voice is dangerously low, and I know I hit a nerve.
“I don’t think you’re powerful enough to have created such an enchantment. So, it’s not so much that I don’t believe you have the key. It’s more that I don’t think there is a key. I think it’s all just your bullshit delusion.”
Dax reaches into a deep pocket in his coat.
“You mean this key?” he asks as he pulls out a small silver key.
“This is the key that doesn’t exist?”
“Oh, it’s a key alright. It’s just not the key to the Isle of Grey. It’s probably the key to your diary or something.”
His face clouds with annoyance and he waves his hand over the key. It triples in size, and it’s no longer silver. It’s a shimmering assortment of colors that undulate and merge as though they are alive. Its shape changes too, and it no longer looks like a key to a standard lock.
It becomes more tubular, and from the end of it hangs a chain with a gray-colored D hanging from it. This part stays a solid gray, and I know without a doubt that this is the key I need.
I leap into the air, but Dax sees it coming. He pushes his hand towards me, palm raised. It feels like I ran into a brick wall, and I fly backward, landing on my back. I jump to my feet and glare at Dax.
“That was a warning,” Dax says. “Leave now or you won’t be able to leave at all.”
“And this is a warning to you. Destroy that key or I’ll fucking gut you,” I counter.
Dax merely laughs. He hooks the chain of the key around his wrist.
“You really think you can take me on? I knew you were a fool, but I didn’t know you had a death wish.”
He holds his hands in front of him, palms down, and he gently wiggles his fingers as I run towards him. The ground beneath me begins to move. It rolls like an angry ocean wave, and I slow down, trying to keep my footing.
