Everlasting Flame

by Katelyn Anderson

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  There weren’t enough words in the English language to describe how I felt after finding out that it was my team who made me an orphan. I didn’t want to accept it but I saw their names on the inside cover of my parents’ file. Claire. Dane. James. Maria. Matthew. Ruby. Ryan. Winters.

  I was furious at fate for putting me in this position. Why did it have to be my team? It could have been any of the other teams who I hadn’t grown attached to. I had been willing to cross out every name on that list before I joined the agency. Everything changed.

  I couldn’t be responsible for the death of my team. I had grown close to every single one of them, despite knowing that they killed my kind for a living. When I was with them, they were exactly like me and killed criminals. I couldn’t judge them for that. If I had, it would have been very hypocritical of me. It was my fault for not asking what they did before I was added into their team. I had been too focused on fitting in and staying alive to even consider asking them about their previous missions. I think a part of me didn’t want to know. It would be harder to work with them if I resented who they were and what they had done.

  If Cyrus knew all along, I hated him even more.

  I had joined the agency for three reasons. I wanted to be a Trojan horse that brought the company down from the inside, brick by brick, even if I had to wait until I was trusted enough to wander the building on my own. I wanted to wipe out the majority of immortal criminals so when the company was destroyed, there would be nobody left for an uprising. The war would be over and there would finally be peace. I wanted to find the people who turned my life upside-down and kill them.

  I discovered the identity of the masked agents from my past but that meant nothing. I couldn’t murder my team in cold blood. I couldn’t confront them either without revealing my true identity. All I could do was bury all of that hate, resentment, anger, sadness, frustration, guilt, and hold my head up high.

  The weight of my inner turmoil was tearing me apart.

  I wasn’t allowed to fall apart in front of my colleagues. I couldn’t tell them. I couldn’t tell them anything. How could I continue working with the same people who were there that night? How could I look them in the eye and fake a smile when every instinct in my body was screaming at me to carry out my vengeance? The agency was the enemy. They had always been the enemy. But my team was filled with people I called friends.

  What was I supposed to do? The whole point of training with Cyrus was to detach myself from my feelings. I learned over time that there was no such thing as an on and off switch. You could pretend that nothing bothered you and be an absolute jerk, but in reality you’re hurting and feel the need to take it out on someone other than yourself. I didn’t know how to reach complete numbness. I didn’t believe it was possible. Humans were emotional beings. There was no switch.

  Was this all for nothing?

  “Can I go?” I asked Winters, staring at the empty boxes on the trolley. I wasn’t sure I would be able to make eye contact without falling to pieces.

  I was barely holding it together. I had lasted the whole day avoiding him and not speaking to him while I filed folders. We bumped into each other occasionally. Winters didn’t do small talk. We worked in silence and I was thankful for it.

  “Yeah, we’re done. Let’s go,” he said, making his way to the exit in a hobble; we left the trolley behind. “Want a lift home?”

  “No. I’ll walk. And you shouldn’t be driving.”

  Winters flicked his hand back. “My legs and hands aren’t broken. I can still drive.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  Winters made an amused snort sound and tapped the elevator button. He caught my eye. I looked away but continued to make my way towards him.

  “Joan, I know something’s up. As your team leader, if it’s going to put one of my subordinates in danger when you’re out in the field, I’d like to know what’s troubling you.”

  “Nothing,” I lied, meeting those hazel eyes with a peaceful mask. “I’m just tired.”

  “We all are,” Winters replied, making his way into the elevator when the doors opened.

  I don’t think he knew just how tired I was.

  “Parking lot, you miserable robot,” he said before the robotic voice had a chance to speak. “You’ll be benched until I’m confident you’re stable enough to go out on missions again. I’m not benching you to punish you. I’m benching you to give you recovery time. Yes, I know you’re strong, but we all have our limits. We’re only human. You need to be honest with me and tell me what sets off your flashbacks. If you have one when you’re out in the field, not only will you put yourself in danger, your partner who’s relying on you to have their back is at risk. Don’t give me the I-don’t-have-flashbacks speech. I’ve been tortured. Still have the scars to prove it. I know what you’re going through. You’re not alone.”

  I bit my tongue before the words you have no idea what I’m going through escaped from my mouth. “Ok.”

  Winters looked at me, dumbfounded. “Ok? That’s it?”

  “What do you want me to say? Nice speech? Shut up, you’re not my therapist?”

  Winters sighed and gently shook his head, careful not to make any sudden movements that would aggravate his rib injury. “I’m trying to help, Joan.”

  “I don’t need your help! There’s nothing you can do to make this situation easier. Not you, not the team, not anybody.”

  “It may feel that way but–”

  “But nothing! You don’t have the slightest clue about what’s truly bothering me and I can’t tell you because it’s too personal! Stop trying to give advice for a problem nobody can solve!”

  “Alright,” he spoke softly, holding up his hand, a signal for me to calm down. “Take time off. You’re in no state to be working. Hypocritical coming from me, I know, but you don’t see me screaming at people who are only trying to help. Come back in a week. I’ll ban you from the building if you try to come back earlier.”

  “Whatcha gonna do, shoot me?”

  The look he gave me clearly said don’t tempt me.

  “Yes, I will shoot you, but with a tranquilliser that will knock you out cold. That will give me ample time to lock you up somewhere you won’t be able to break out of and you’ll have no choice but to have a week off. Surely you’d rather have control on how you’ll be spending that week, correct?”

  “You do realise who it is you’re threatening, right?”

  “The Angel of Death doesn’t scare me.”

  “You should be afraid.”

  “The enemy is outside these walls, not inside,” he reminded me. If only he knew the truth. “Go home, Joan. Come back to work when you’ve had time to cool off. I was serious about locking you up if you consider setting foot inside this building.”

  “Screw you, Winters,” I said, being more colourful with my language choice.

  I left the confinements of the elevator without looking back. Storming off like an overdramatic teenager seemed like the way to go but I didn’t. I just kept my pace quick, knowing Winters wouldn’t be able to catch up with me in his state. My footsteps were heavy from the anger weighing me down. I was surprised the concrete didn’t crack from how furious I was.

  Rage always made the flames inside me stir. The fever would overcome me. I had to be careful that fire didn’t start coming out of my fingers, especially considering I was still within the vicinity of the agency that killed my kind. Mist came out of my nose and mouth due to how hot I was in comparison with the cold air around me. I had played human to survive, and I would continue playing human until there was no agency left. I clenched my fists to stop my sweaty hands from releasing spurts of fire. I wasn’t sure how long I would last until everything I touched burst into flames.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a message to Lorenzo. I kept it brief and to the point before my fingers had the chance to melt my screen.

  Come over.

  My
phone went back into my pocket shortly afterwards.

  I needed to calm down and didn’t know how. I wanted to smash things. I wanted to shoot things. I wanted to stab something a million times. I wanted to spar with Cyrus and kick his ass for putting me through hell. I didn’t know what was the source of all my anger. Was it Cyrus or myself? Cyrus was the person responsible for turning me into what I was now but I was the willing subject. It was me who agreed to his terms. It was me who agreed to become his pupil. It was all me. I was angry at myself. I was angry for growing attached to the team who were there the night my parents were killed. I wanted to kill every last one of them before knowing their true identities. I needed to find the humanity switch. I wanted to turn everything off and lose myself to darkness.

  I made my way through the apartment lobby, shoving past anyone who was in the way. I ignored their disgruntled comments and went straight for the stairs. Running up the stairs would hopefully release some steam. If it didn’t, nothing in my apartment would be safe from imminent destruction.

  I sprinted up the steps, making sure I didn’t miss any and trip. The last thing I needed was to fall flat on my face and break something. That would only make the anger worse. I had never taken the stairs before. My apartment was ten floors up. Who would be stupid enough to take the stairs when there was this magical thing called an elevator?

  I reached my floor. My lungs were burning and my heart was racing. I could still feel the exact same level of rage swirling inside me. I would need to run several more miles to exhaust myself. Running up and down the stairs wasn’t an option.

  I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand as I walked down the hall. Running had only made the fever worse. I was hoping there were some frozen vegetables inside the freezer or an icepack I could use to try and cool off. If I didn’t, I might need to stick my head inside the freezer for an hour.

  I unlocked the door to my apartment and got the surprise of my life. Cyrus was there. He had been sitting on the couch but stood up when he heard the door open.

  “Get the hell out before I call Dane and tell him you’re here. I’ll do it,” I threatened, kicking the door shut behind me so my neighbours wouldn’t hear the full extent of the incoming screaming match.

  “Then call. They won’t get here in time. I’ll be gone before then,” Cyrus replied, shrugging, a gesture to show he didn’t really think much of my threat.

  “If you’ve come here to apologise, don’t even bother. If you’ve come here to prove something, I’m not interested. Get out. I don’t want to see you ever again. I thought I made that quite clear when I drove a blade through your heart. I’ll do it again if the message didn’t sink in the first time,” I insisted, moving away from the door to get into the kitchen.

  I opened the drawers and the cupboards to arm myself with things to throw at him. Plates, glasses, bowls. I would leave the knives for when I was really dead set on killing him.

  “Are you really going to throw your entire kitchen set at me?” he asked with a shake of his head, folding his arms across his chest. That amused look on his face made me angrier.

  I snatched two glasses out of the cupboard, one for each hand. “Yeah, especially if you knew the team I was assigned to was the same team who carried out the kill order on my family.”

  “That’s definitely a new one. Most girls who break up with me usually throw clothes,” he admitted, ducking when the first glass was about to hit his face.

  The glass smashed against the wall and clattered to the ground like falling bullets. He dodged the follow up glass as well. That smashed too.

  “Yeah, I knew. This is pointless.”

  “No, it’s making me feel better,” I disagreed, heaving a bowl at that arrogant face. The ceramic cracked and exploded into several pieces, becoming a jigsaw puzzle on the floor.

  I continued throwing everything I had at him until the cupboards were bare and there was nothing but cutlery left, not to mention an absolute mess. The floor was littered with glass and ceramic fragments. Large pieces, small pieces, unrecognisable pieces, the list went on. Cyrus dodged everything. There was no point emptying my cutlery drawer. There was nothing satisfying about throwing a spoon if it didn’t smash on impact.

  “Are you quite done?”

  “I still have knives left,” I declared, turning my back to find my sharpest steak knives.

  Cyrus took that opportunity to drag me out of the kitchen, away from my ammunition supply. He ignored my kicks and punches, only holding me tighter with each strike. I screamed at him, which he chose to ignore also. He dragged me through the mess. I felt fragments stab me through my jeans but thankfully they didn’t stay lodged in my skin. I was glad I was still wearing shoes or else my feet would have been cut up.

  Cyrus heaved me across my bedroom. My back smacked up against the wall, knocking the air right out of my lungs. He had missed my bed by a bloody mile and did it on purpose. He had stunned me for a short moment. It took me a few seconds to recollect myself.

  I was about to get onto my feet until I saw he had me at gunpoint. I stayed where I was, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall, glaring up at him. I wasn’t going to take any chances. I knew he would shoot if I moved. I already had my temper tantrum. I would cooperate and have a civilised conversation with him if it meant avoiding bullets.

  “I didn’t want to have to resort to using this to make you shut up but you didn’t really give me much of a choice.” Cyrus kept his distance so I couldn’t sideswipe him with my feet and knock him onto the floor.

  I discreetly reached for my gun. It wasn’t until then that I realised the holster was empty and Cyrus had taken my only weapon. That jerk.

  “Just because I can hear you doesn’t mean I’ll listen to what you have to say,” I grumbled, wishing this was just a dream so I could end it by killing him. As much as I hated him, I didn’t have it in me to kill him for real.

  “If I told you which team was there the night your parents were killed, the first thing you would have done was hunt them down and kill them. Not only would you blow your cover, you’d be dead before you could escape the building. I trained you to bring the agency down from the inside. Personal vendettas allowed me to bend and break you to my will. Without the death of your parents fuelling your revenge to take down the agency, you would have never come to me willingly.”

  “You make it sound like you were behind their deaths.”

  “You’re bending my words, Joan. I didn’t kill your parents. The agency you work for did.”

  “All it takes is a whisper for rumours to spread. My parents were careful. They were always careful.”

  “I didn’t know you existed. I didn’t make the wheels of fate turn. Your parents had to die so you could live. The only thing I’m responsible for is making you–”

  “A killer,” I cut across him, filling my voice with as much coldness as I could muster. “You made me exactly like you. The only difference is that I don’t torture people. I don’t make them go mad. You’re drunk on your own power and you don’t care who suffers by the hands of it.”

  “Be grateful you’ve only experienced a taste of what I’m truly capable of. It will only take a moment to break you and take away everything that makes you who you are. It won’t come to that if you stay true to your word.”

  “I didn’t make you any promises.”

  “You didn’t have to. I know your heart’s desires. You will be the downfall of the agency and if you deviate from that track, know that I will make you wish you didn’t.”

  “You don’t scare me.”

  Power filled the room. It was as if the roof to my apartment had vanished. Rain fell from the stars, pouring down on me like a raging torrent. Large splatters smacked my skin, leaving behind a chilling cold. It doused the flames of my magic and made the fever vanish. It was refreshing yet terrifying at the same time.

  “You should be afraid,” Cyrus spoke, voice dark. His Arctic eyes were glowing, edged with a wheel
of blue flames.

  “Get out, Cyrus. I won’t ask again. I’ll get up and tackle you out the door if I have to and I don’t care if you shoot me.”

  The power retreated. Cyrus reached inside his pocket and dropped a USB on my lap. “I assume you have access to the archives as you discovered the truth about your team. The archives are the heart of the building. Plant that USB. It will replicate the algorithm.”

  “The archives are nothing but paper. The only thing in the room that uses electricity is the lights,” I said, throwing the USB back at him.

  Cyrus caught the USB and placed it on my dresser. “That’s because you looked with your eyes and didn’t listen with your ears. There’s a hidden room.”

  I remembered a distinct hum when I was filing cases in the archives. I thought it had been the air conditioning. I never imagined it to be a hidden room with computer hardware.

  “Even if I could do that, I’d be putting myself in danger. The contract I signed doesn’t allow me to distribute anything that will compromise the agency. Handing over the replicated algorithm will highlight that section,” I said.

  “There’s a loophole, one I found after experimenting on an agent who’s still alive. He gave me the file I asked for, I altered his memory, there was an investigation and his contract remained the same. Only knowledge of what you’ve done highlights that section. Dane never did find who lost my file. What a pity.”

  “Why are you using me when you seem to know an awful lot about what goes on inside that building?’

  “Because the resistance got inside once before and we didn’t get what we needed. We came awfully close,” Cyrus replied.

  “So it was you who swiped an access card in an attempt to get your hands on the algorithm?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I’m learning new things about you on a daily basis. It’s like I never really knew you at all.”

  “I only showed you the side of me I knew you’d be able to handle. My darkness will suffocate you.” He lowered the gun and chucked it onto my bed. “Goodbye, Joan.”

  “I don’t want to see you ever again.”

  “I will leave you be if you stay on the correct path.”

  “I’m not going to leave it if it means you’ll stay the hell away from me.”

  “That’s what I was counting on,” he stated, turning his back to leave.

  All I had to do was reach for the gun on my bed and shoot him. I made the move to but as soon as my hand brushed by the cold metal, I froze. I couldn’t do it. I would never be able to take a kill shot. I had killed countless people, but never someone I knew. I had never been put into a position where I had to pull the trigger on someone I loved. It was then that I realised I would never be able to. I would never be the perfect assassin. I would never be able to kill the team who changed my life forever. I was weak.

  I threw the gun against the wall with a wordless scream and curled up on my bed. Sobs tore through my throat. My whole body shook as the world fell apart. Tears soaked my face and blurred my vision. I closed my eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks but the flow was infinite.

  There was no end to my sadness.

  There was no end to the pain.

  I was forever trapped in this cruel world. So much death. So much suffering. Was what I became worth it? I would never come back from the things I had done. I was tainted by sin. An eternity was an awfully long time to be consumed by such hatred. Did I hate myself or did I hate those who changed me more? Was I angry at those who killed my parents or was I angrier at myself for what revenge turned me into?

  I couldn’t tell.

  I didn’t know what to believe.

  I jumped when I felt a hand clasp my shoulder. I didn’t hear anyone come in over the sound of my own sobbing. Warm magic hummed against my skin, chasing away the chill left behind from Cyrus’s power.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Lorenzo asked me, voice gentle. He curled up beside me and held me close to him. “Going by the mess outside your room, I’m guessing the breakup didn’t go so well.”

  My laugh came out in a choke. “Wasn’t that,” I said through tears, finding it difficult to speak. My throat was raw from sobbing and screaming. “Bad day.”

  “I’ll hold you for as long as you need,” he spoke softly, stroking my hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Lorenzo loosened his hold on me when I slowly began to uncurl out of my secure ball. I had my back to him. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into him. I rolled over, slipping down the bed so our faces wouldn’t be touching. I leaned my head into his chest and hugged him back, breathing in the sweet scent of apple and cinnamon.

  “Thanks,” I choked, holding him tighter.

  “Take all the time you need. When you’re ready, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Everything. Everything is wrong.”

  “I can’t fix everything but I’ll do my best. What happened?”

  “Winters team... They were there the night my parents were killed... I can’t... I can’t kill them. Cyrus knew. He knew and never told me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Lorenzo said, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Killing isn’t always the answer. You can forgive them. Forgiving them will make the pain you’re feeling lessen.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “What happened that night was tragic and changed your life. Even terrible things have a silver lining. You’d still be alone, hidden away from the rest of the world. You’d still be afraid of the agency. You’ve been given the chance to bring about change which wouldn’t have happened if you were still locked away in that house.”

  “I wouldn’t have met you,” I added, my words overflowing with emotion.

  “Forgiveness is never easy, Joan. Take everything I said into consideration. I know it’s hard. It’s a sensitive subject.”

  “My parents had to die so I could live,” I breathed weakly, repeating the cold hard truth that Cyrus told me. I never wanted to accept it. That’s not something anyone would dare think about, not until someone else mentioned it.

  “Don’t resent them. They did what they thought was best to protect you and keep you safe,” Lorenzo said.

  “I never wanted to lose them.”

  “Nobody wants to lose the ones they love. That’s why we hold them close. When they’re gone, we still hold them close in our hearts.”

  There was a short pause in the conversation while I tried my best to calm down. The sobs had turned to sniffles. My eyes had stopped leaking but my face was still drenched with tears. My throat was incredibly dry but I didn’t have any water close by. I could get something to drink but that would require leaving Lorenzo’s embrace. I had a feeling that he was holding all of the pieces together.

  “I don’t know what to do, Lorenzo. I feel like everything has been for nothing.” I was losing my voice. It was as if the immortal healing system couldn’t heal the remnants of heartbreak.

  “No. It hasn’t been for nothing. The city is a lot safer because of you, with the gangs gone. You were the only one brave enough to take them down,” he reassured me, giving me a shoulder rub. “You still have a job to do. The agency isn’t going to fall on its own. You will topple the stones. Stay positive. You were destined for greatness.”

  “The prophecy is a load of rubbish,” I mumbled. “Yeah, the city is safer, but innocent Tainted Beings are still being hunted and murdered every day. It doesn’t matter that I’m crossing criminals off the list. I kill one, two more pop up. I feel like I’m going around in circles, that I’ve accomplished nothing. Sure, I didn’t expect things to change overnight, but it’s been months. I’m exactly where I started.”

  “Making the world a better place doesn’t happen in a few months. It takes years to notice change. Be patient. Don’t give up, not when you’ve come this far. I have faith in you... I’ve always had faith in you.”

  “You never wanted me to go down this path.
You were against it, from the beginning.”

  “Perhaps, but I respected your decision. It takes a lot of courage to become a saviour.”

  “I’m an assassin. I haven’t saved anyone.”

  “You’d be surprised how many innocent lives you have saved by eliminating criminal threats. Countless lives have been changed because of your actions. Don’t you doubt for a second that you haven’t accomplished anything. You have done a great deal. You’ve created hope.”

  “Thank you, Lorenzo. I needed to hear that,” I spoke quietly.

  I slowly edged out of his warm embrace and wiped away the tears. I sat upright, angling my feet behind me so I wouldn’t kick him. He mirrored me, sitting upright also. I leaned my forehead into his shoulder, hiding my face. He continued to massage my back to chase away the stress. I snuggled into him and closed my eyes.

  “Sometimes I feel like I’ve become a monster, that the darkness won. I don’t know right from wrong anymore. Taking lives to save lives just seems... unfair. I’ve killed a lot of people and I don’t feel remorse. I feel empty. Does that make me a bad person?”

  “We all make sacrifices for the greater good. You are not a bad person, Joan, and you are not a monster. There are people out there who kill others for the sake of killing, to satisfy their needs and desires that none of us can truly comprehend,” he paused for thought. “You’re not the only killer in the room. I’m not proud that it came down to that. I felt that same emptiness you feel now. It goes away, in time. We do what we have to... to survive. That doesn’t make us bad people.”

  “I don’t know how I sleep at night, knowing the things I know, doing the things I do, seeing things I can’t forget.” I bundled the front of Lorenzo’s shirt in my hand when I clenched my fist. “I’m so broken on the inside. I don’t know how I haven’t fallen to pieces and gone mad.”

  “Count your blessings, not your flaws. You’re resilient. You are not broken,” Lorenzo reassured me, moving away so he could hold my face in his hands; I opened my eyes when those soft hands touched my skin. “Remember what it is that makes you who you are. There’s a light inside of you that continues shining in the darkest of times. Knowledge is frightening. Living on the edge is terrifying. Seeing things you’d rather forget tells you one thing, that you have not become consumed by darkness. You are not a monster. Monsters don’t want to forget the terrible things they’ve done and seen. That’s what makes them monsters.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. Just listening to you and being with you is calming me down.”

  Lorenzo’s smile reached those golden eyes, making them burn brighter. “I’m always here for you, Joan. Always.”

  I gazed into his eyes, seeing sincerity and love glimmering off the golden surface. I meant a great deal to him. Just staring at his handsome face made me feel at home. I didn’t know where I would be without him. He cared for me and had never let me down, not once.

  “I love you.” Those three words came out without a thought. Just because I hadn’t planned on saying that didn’t mean I was going to take it back. That statement came from my heart. It was worth it. The expression on Lorenzo’s face was heart-warming and made my earlier sadness melt away.

  Lorenzo soft hands were still cradling my face. “I love you, too.”

  Lorenzo’s magic bathed me in a golden ray of sunshine as soon as his lips met mine. His warmth was infinite. It was a promise to keep me safe, to love me, and to cherish me always. I wouldn’t let that go, not for anything.