Limerence: Book Three of The Cure (Omnibus Edition)

by Charlotte McConaghy

  “Thanks. Yours is beautiful.”

  She looks at her reflection and I see sadness in her black-rimmed eyes. I want to ask her why she’s here, why she’d ever subject herself to such a thing but I already know the answer: she has no choice. Some of the others like it, I can see, but not this one. A great well of compassion swells inside me and I want to reach out and touch her, just for a moment, but I think it might unnerve her more than anything. Instead we stand silently looking at our reflections and putting off the moment we have to go back out there.

  “Is this your first time?” she asks.

  “Yes. You?”

  She shakes her head once.

  “Does it get worse than this?”

  A single nod. She looks at me properly. “Don’t be frightened. I’ll watch out for you.”

  I smile at the simple kindness. The drones, these brain-damaged drones, they never stop surprising me. “Thank you.”

  “Dual, he’s going inside with his dad. I repeat, Zachariah is attending the party.”

  Shit. That changes things.

  “Abort,” Luke tells me. “Shay will recognize you. Get out of there right now.”

  “We’re ready to detonate the distraction when you say so, Dual,” Will tells me.

  “No,” I say clearly. A couple of the women look at me like I’m mental. I go back into the stall. What do I do, what do I do. My purse contains make-up, but no matter what I do it won’t make me look like a different person.

  Okay. So the theme is emotion for the men, self-containment for the women. They’re all completely covered up. Maybe I can use that. I look down at myself. My dress is long. It could stand a trim.

  “What’s going on, Dual?” Will asks. “We’re waiting on your go.”

  “Do not move,” I say softly. I hike up the end of my dress and see if there are any seams I can use. I don’t have anything sharp so I use my fingernails to unpick the hem. I’m lucky it’s such a badly made dress because the split at the side unravels and I use my teeth to make a rip. It’s way harder than I imagined to get a whole strip free – the material doesn’t just tear easily apart like it does in the movies. I have to really work at it and by the time I’ve got something usable, my fingernails are all broken and one of them is bleeding. I fold the strip so the edges aren’t visible and then I tie it around the bottom half of my face. It covers my nose and mouth and I slip the ends into my elaborate braid. When I emerge I use my eyeliner to drastically darken my eyes and subtly change their shape. To my relief, I look utterly unlike myself.

  As I head for the ballroom once more I get a few surprised looks but nobody questions me about the covering – I am simply trendier than the rest. Ha!

  “I’m going back in to find Z,” I tell the others and then I’m inside again. In the ten minutes I spent in the bathroom, everything has gone to chaos. I see a couple having sex right there on a chaise longue.

  “Good god,” Teddy mutters in horror as he sees what I see.

  At the edge of it all, Falon Shay and his son watch. Their gazes are equally cold, equally hard. They don’t speak to anyone or to each other and they look every bit father and son. I circle around, keeping them in sight at all times. A woman bumps into me and spills champagne down my dress but I ignore it and keep moving. My ass and breasts get groped multiple times. Grating laughter deafens me and the smell of perfume is dizzying. Someone gives a roar of triumph at the blackjack table and I see a girl trip and fall heavily but no one stops to help her. It’s fucking insane. I swing her way and stoop to help her stand. Her heels are spiked weapons.

  “No wonder you fell on those things,” I murmur.

  She gives an embarrassed laugh. “Thanks.”

  I’m up and moving again. I have to gamble on myself now. I edge into Zachariah’s line of sight. He sees me. I let our eyes meet and linger. I let my eyebrow arch. Then without stopping I walk straight past him and through a curtain. He might not follow, but then again he might.

  He does.

  We’re in a smaller room, draped in a veil of smoke. A piano is being played and several people lie around on the floor in various states of undress. I move through another door and keep moving faster. Zachariah follows me through several more rooms until finally I find an empty one. It has tall glass windows overlooking the beautifully maintained gardens. I stop to look out. Hear him enter the room behind me and pause. Then he makes his way to stand beside me.

  Neither of us says anything.

  “Dual, what the hell’s going on?” Luke demands.

  I reach up and remove my earpiece by pretending to fiddle with my earring. It is abruptly silent.

  “The party isn’t to your taste?” Zachariah asks softly. He has a rough voice, as though he doesn’t often use it.

  I shake my head and remain silent. We stand for a long while. I’ve put out my fishing hook with its bait and now I wait patiently as he circles it.

  “This is my first time,” I admit softly.

  “Mine too.”

  “How do you like it?”

  He doesn’t reply.

  I let the pause stretch. “You look just like him.”

  In the reflection of the glass I see his mouth twist bitterly and know that if I play this right I have a chance.

  “Wouldn’t he love to hear you say that.”

  “I don’t know, would he?”

  “What’s your name?”

  My cover name is Anne. I say, “Dual.”

  “That’s unusual. Why are you called that?”

  On impulse I reach up and carefully remove my two contact lenses. I’m playing a very, very dangerous game here and the others must be losing their minds with worry. But with the two lenses sitting delicately on my fingertip, I turn and show Zachariah my real eyes.

  “That’s why.”

  He gazes at me. His scar is very white in the rosy light, his eyes very dark. He has a narrow, thin mouth and a hooked nose. A nose with a very obvious break in the bridge, a break I saw in that photo of him. I wondered then who might have broken that nose, and I think I might know.

  I let my lips part. Hold his gaze and allow him to see something in me, a shift, a thought chasing its way across my gaze, a moment of unsettled surprise. Let him see how startled I am at the effect he’s having on me. Let him think I’m at his mercy.

  I swallow and drop my eyes. “I know they’re illegal but people think me too strange like this.”

  “Strange is beautiful,” he murmurs.

  “Not to anyone else.” I look at his scar. “But I think I see what you mean.”

  A little color comes to his cheeks.

  I reach up and remove my face covering. “It’s like a cage in here. A lovely cage, but a cage nonetheless.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Have you ever left?”

  Zachariah shakes his head. And just like that, he takes the bait. “We could leave right now. Have an adventure.” There’s a terrible yearning in him.

  I think my suspicions are correct: I think he hates his father.

  I let my eyes light up but make sure to keep any expression from my features. “How? Won’t we get caught?”

  He shrugs, angry all of a sudden. “Maybe. Probably. I’m not sure I care.”

  “You might not, but I’d be killed.”

  “I’d never let that happen!” he exclaims. “You think I’d ask you to leave and then let you get killed for it? You think I’m some kind of monster?”

  I shake my head slowly.

  “Forget it. It was stupid. You’re just one of my father’s women.”

  I frown and step away from him.

  He notices it with hawk-like perception. His gaze narrows on me. “Did that offend you?”

  “Of course.”

  “How?”

  I shouldn’t be capable of feeling offended. Not if I’m cured. But I lay down my biggest piece of bait, the riskiest of all. Leaning close to him, I let him see a sudden storm in my gaze. “Here’s the secre
t to it,” I whisper. “I’m human. Wouldn’t you like to be?”

  Zachariah leans in too, searching me, trying to understand.

  “Wouldn’t you like to live?”

  “More than anything,” he says and I feel his breath on my lips.

  I’m teetering on the edge of crossing a line here, and I think of what I told the kids. I have no line. For Shadow, I can’t have one. So even though this is a cruel game I let our lips brush very lightly.

  Then I pull away, squeeze my eyes shut. “I just wanted to talk to you. I wasn’t supposed to … This is dangerous.”

  He takes my arms tightly. “Who are you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” His voice breaks a little and he looks close to losing it. He must be bound so tightly, all the time. It must be a nightmare having Falon Shay as a father.

  So I say, “I’m here for you, Zachariah. To set you free.”

  *

  March 8th, 2067

  Luke

  It’s getting very, very cold in the water. I have only enough room in this little air pocket to try and keep my head and shoulders above the surface. My frozen fingers clutch at the metal rungs of the ladder and if I move them at all I have the feeling I’ll slip below and be too cold to swim back up. I won’t have a chance to, either, because the water is moving very fast. Josi’s been offline for way too long now and I’m starting to prepare myself to go in after her. But I linger because she wouldn’t take her earpiece and contact lenses out unless she had a good reason. I just hope Shay hasn’t taken them out for her.

  “Anything?” I ask Teddy through chattering teeth.

  “Nothing yet. She’s still offline.”

  “I’ve got nothing unusual about the heat signatures inside the house,” Will offers. “People are still ‘mingling’, if that’s the word we’re going with.”

  “I think you need to get out of that water,” Teddy tells me.

  “Can’t yet.” I can’t go back without Josi and I can’t climb up into the Gates until I’m sure she needs help. Rushing in there now could put her in more danger.

  I grit my teeth and try to flex my hands. My right one has never fully recovered from punching through glass; I struggle with it every day. It’s unusual for me not to have complete control over my body, not to know its exact capabilities. But this hand, much as I hate to admit it, is an unknown element. Sometimes the fingers won’t bend properly, sometimes it loses its dexterity, sometimes it aches or twinges or freezes. I am as frightened of this damaged hand as I am of the virus in my blood that is preparing to transform me. Right now my hand’s frozen around a rusting metal ladder rung.

  “Woah woah woah,” Will says suddenly. “I’ve got two Bloods moving toward your tunnel entrance, Luke.”

  “They’ll probably walk straight by.”

  “Standby. They’re moving erratically.”

  “How so?”

  “Back and forwards. Swinging around. They’re looking for something. Don’t respond – they’re right above you now, man.”

  I have to move. My fingers ache as they let go of the ladder and reach for my gun. I do it left-handed – I do everything left-handed now. I have a silencer on my weapon but obviously it will still make a considerable noise.

  “Do they use heat detection tech?” Teddy asks.

  I don’t respond, but they do.

  “They shouldn’t be able to pick him up down there ’cause his body temp’s so low,” Will argues. “I’m too far away to take them out, Luke, so get ready. I think they’re sniffing around for you.”

  Turns out he’s right.

  The Blood swings open the hatch and points his gun in my face. “Drop your weapon in the water.”

  I sigh and do it.

  “Ascend slowly and without any sudden movements.”

  I force my aching muscles to climb up the ladder and emerge from the tunnel. One of the Bloods hauls me out and slams me to my stomach. He grips my wrists together and I hear him getting cuffs out. When they touch my wrists I yank them and roll fast. He comes down on top of my chest and takes the bullet intended for me in his shoulder. I haul him up and ram him into his companion, who fires twice more into the Blood’s body, knowing exactly where to aim so that the bullets will cut through his flesh and into mine. Luckily I’m already moving and the second bullet only grazes my ribs. My right fist, which is only good for punching these days, crosses heavily into the shooter’s jaw. I hit him again, much harder in the temple. The pain doesn’t affect him but I’ve hit the nerve to his eye and now he’s blind in one. I use the momentary distraction to smash the gun out of his hand. Then my knee is in his groin, his chest, his guts. My hand sweeps to the knife at my belt and I slice it through his throat. The second Blood, who’s been shot three times, is bleeding on the ground but he’s still alive, so I cut his throat too. Then I drag them both to the tunnel and drop them into the water to be swept away in a current of freezing sewage.

  “They’re down,” I say softly. “Anyone see us?”

  “You’ve got more coming your way.”

  Shit. This is Josi’s way out. If it’s compromised she’ll be stuck. I grab the Blood’s fallen gun and climb back down the ladder. This time I leave the hatch open and I use it as a bunker, aiming my weapon across the lawn for any sign of movement.

  “Any news on where Dual is?” I ask.

  “Nothing yet.”

  “Which direction are they coming from, Will?”

  “Your three o’clock.”

  I swing to the right.

  “Oh fuck,” Will breathes. “Not just three o’clock. Eight and eleven, as well. They’re all around you. I’m gonna blow the bomb.”

  “No – you blow it and this whole place goes into lockdown. We don’t know where Josi is and if she can make it out through that.”

  “They’re closing in, Luke. Too many for you alone. This is what the bomb was for – a contingency plan!”

  “For Josi, not for me!” I snarl. “Standby.”

  I can see them now. Just shadows in the distance, moving behind trees and bushes. I line one up in my sight, let the air out of my lungs and fire. The person drops. I spin quickly to take another behind me. Then swing to eleven. If I can force them to keep taking cover then I might slow their progress but every time I do I use my limited ammunition.

  Bullets are raining upon me. Several ping off the metal hatch lid and grass is bursting around my head. I keep firing back as heavily as I can. The magazine change will be a problem. As I come to my last bullet I duck down, free the empty mag and slot the new one into place as quickly as I can with a very stiff hand. But this has given the Bloods time to sprint closer. When I open the hatch again there’s one bearing down on me. I shoot him in the neck, then spin to shoot the one directly behind me in the chest. A bullet whizzes by my ear. A boot kicks me in the side of the head, making my earpiece whine painfully. I kill the man but almost simultaneously a smoke bomb explodes above me. My only option is to retreat once more into the hatch so I won’t pass out from the gas. I wrench the painful tech out of my ear and try to work out what to do. I’m now alone and perched in the water, trembling with cold. I have three bullets left and my right hand is seizing around the ladder. The second that hatch opens either the gas will knock me out or the Bloods will kill me.

  Basically I’m fucked.

  My only option is to escape through this tunnel and pray, pray that Josi won’t try to come this way before she gets in contact with us again. Awkwardly I pull my wetsuit over my skull and shove the breathing hose into my mouth.

  That’s when the hatch swings wide above me and I realize I’m too late.

  *

  Josephine

  Zachariah and I run across the lawn with our heads low. My heels are in my hand, obviously. No sane person tries to run – anywhere – in heels. I can hear shots being fired in the direction we’re headed, which is bad. But despite this, despite the danger or maybe because of it
, my pulse is racing a mile a minute and I have that excited thrill beneath my heart that always starts when I’m on a mission. I hate to admit it because it’s so passé, but I think I’ve become an adrenalin junkie. I really like doing dangerous crap.

  We scurry to a halt when we reach a line of trees. Beyond them is chaos. Luke – presumably Luke – is hunkered down in the tunnel, hatch open, firing and being fired upon. I can see gunmen pressing closer as he struggles to protect all sides.

  “It’s our way out,” I tell Zachariah, who hasn’t said a single word since agreeing to escape with me. That’s a whole other issue I don’t have time to tackle. He could definitely be a trap or a trick or a spy but I don’t have any other option right now and I’ve gone too far to turn back. Besides, there’s no way we’ll find Shadow without him.

  Someone moves behind us and I whirl in time to see the butt of a gun leveled at my face. I strike it sideways with my wrist; it fires right next to my ear and I go painfully deaf. In the silence I move into the attack, sending a right cross straight into the Blood’s sternum. Ribs crack beneath the blow but he’s still moving forward, sending a fist into my stomach that feels as though it should be heard, it hurts so much, but it’s still oddly silent as I hit him hard in the throat, then in the eye. He goes down onto one knee and I send my bare foot into his groin, then smash him over the temple with the butt of his own gun. It takes a lot to get a Blood agent unconscious, and even through this punishment he’s still woozily struggling to rise.

  I turn to see Zachariah crouched over the dead body of a second agent, his gun still aimed at the man’s gruesome mess of skull. I grab his arm and try to help him up. He looks at me slowly, blinks eyes that have shifted to empty.

  “It’s okay,” I try to tell him but I can’t hear my own voice.

  He points behind me to where a smoke bomb has gone off. Before I can second-guess myself I wrench him forward through the gray smog. I can’t hear or see now. We run fast and low for the hatch and the world is eerie dancing smoke. My eyes stream with it and I can’t stop coughing but thankfully it’s not sleeper gas.