The Caelian Cycle Boxed Set

by Donnielle Tyner

  The hospital bed was straight ahead. Tingles shook throughout my body as the anxiety activated my Talent and I adverted my gaze, not quite ready to see John lying there, not moving. To the right, Madison was strewn across a couch half her size, snoring softly. I walked over and picked up the blanket folded on the chair next to John’s bed. With great care so as to not disturb her much needed rest, I covered her. Her bright orange hair was greasy and tousled like she had been pulling at it. Large purple bruises under her eyes marred her pale skin. Her usually bright green freckles were pale against her washed out skin.

  I brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead before placing a kiss where the hair used to be. She didn’t stir, which was shocking since she was typically a light sleeper. Those drugs they gave her must be strong.

  I stood, my back to John and a lump in my throat the size of an egg. Tingles crawled over my skin as I gathered the courage to turn around. A gasp escaped my lips before I covered my mouth with my hands. Kian’s warmth and strength filled the void behind me. He put one hand on my waist in comfort, letting me know he was there, but allowing me to dictate how much comfort to take from him.

  This couldn’t be my John lying there. Wires flowed out from under the covers, connecting to machines that blinked numbers and lines that I didn’t understand. Tubes came out of his nose, mouth, arms, and even his head. I couldn’t tell if those tubes were putting fluid in or taking it out, but it wasn’t the wires or tubes coming out of his body that shocked me.

  John’s face was swollen, almost double its original size and colored a sickening purplish green. I couldn’t see any cuts or obvious wounds beyond the color of his skin. A small, curious part of me wanted to rip his covers down and see the rest of his body, but I couldn’t move. Tears pricked at my eyes and for the second time that day, I cried.

  The curtain rustled behind us and the second doctor walked in. Although he wasn’t Caelian, he exuded his own aura of comfort. Maybe it was his grandfatherly look, salt and pepper hair combed over in a final attempt to hide his beginning baldness, and the wire framed glasses perched on his wide nose. His warm brown eyes met mine and they were full of understanding. He’s seen a lot grieving in his life.

  “You must be Sadie. I have heard plenty about you from the nursing staff and your friends. My name is Dr. Stone. I have been taking care of John.”

  “How is he?” I asked, knowing what Rebecca had told me, but wanting to hear it straight from the doctor’s mouth.

  He pushed his glasses up with a finger before walking around the foot of the bed to the other side. He pushed some buttons on the screens and wrote them down in his chart before answering. “There has been no change since he arrived. Taking the nature of his injuries and eye witness reports into account, it’s safe to say that John was closest to the explosion. He has multiple injuries to his internal organs. There are multiple breaks in his spine. Even if he wakes up he will be paralyzed from the neck down.”

  Tears began to flow as the doctor continued. “His brain is bleeding and even though we are draining the excess fluid, I’m not hopeful that he will recover. It was hours before he was brought to us and that was hours of pressure on his brain that cannot be reversed. I’m sorry for being blunt, but the chances of John waking up are less than 2% and even if by some miracle he did he would have a half-life.”

  “Is he suffering?” I asked between hiccups. Kian’s arms tightened around me as I leaned back, needing his comfort.

  “No. We are regulating his pain.”

  I nodded, not sure what to say. This doctor had just told me that one of the few people I loved in life was dead without support from technology.

  “Sadie.” Dr. Stone’s voice softened. “I’m going to tell you what I told Madison before she had to be sedated. The Moreau family has decided to unplug life support in five days.”

  “What?” I screeched.

  “John is still the ward of the Moreau family and they have rules set in place for these types of instances. Actually all the orphanages, no matter who monetarily backs them, abide by these rules. If the patient has multiple doctors who agree that the chance of survival is minimal, we have to take them off of life support within seven days, unless his chances improve. In John’s case, we don’t see that happening.”

  “Oh god,” I whispered. “What can I do?”

  “Madison is his girlfriend, correct?”

  “Yes, but we’ve all been friends with John for years before they started dating.”

  “I think she’ll need you the most. She has intense survivor’s guilt. Out of all of her friends, she wasn’t injured because John protected her. She understands that John will not be waking up, but she hasn’t accepted it. You and Rebecca will need to make sure she goes to therapy once...” He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead he gave me a small nod and walked out.

  These next five days were going to be hell.

  Chapter 22

  Email

  From: Jason K [footballstud16@mail.com]

  To: Dean Kerrington [dkerrington@hpc.org]

  Subject: MUST SEE!!!!

  Attachment: crazygirlkillsman.vid

  Hey Mr. Kerrington,

  My dad is one of the local chapter guys for the HPC and well, I’m sure you’ve heard of the crazy attack on that Caelian orphanage. My dad and I live down the street and when the first explosion rocked my house, I ran to see what was happening. By the time I got there everything was crazy! It was nothing like they reported it on the news. Those Caelians were fighting each other, it was not some terrorist attack!

  Anyway, I saw this chick beat down this old dude and then she used some creepy Talent I have never seen before. She touched the guy she was fighting and a minute later he was dead. I caught the whole thing on my communicator. Check it out, man it’s sick.

  Jason

  Chapter 23

  This morning I would be saying goodbye to another friend. It had taken two days after my talk with Dr. Stone to convince Madison that the decision to unplug John’s life support was for the best. She had finally accepted that I had felt John’s Talent become a ghost of the magnificence it used to be. Its pulses were feeble and growing weaker each day. He was here only because we didn’t want to let him go. It was time.

  Kian interrupted my thoughts. “How long have you been brushing your hair?”

  “Hmm,” I replied as I set down the brush. I couldn’t answer him truthfully since I had become lost in my thoughts.

  “Let’s go.” Kian reached out and took my hand, leading me past the cot he had set up in my room for himself. My nightmares had become unpredictable and progressively worse, always filled with violence and faces of the dead. It made him feel better to know he was close by when I needed him.

  We walked hand in hand toward the infirmary wing. Along the way, other students from St. Vincent’s joined us in a silent march. When we arrived, the doors to the critical care room were already opened and people were spilling out into the hall. The people inside who wanted to pay their respects to John were packed shoulder to shoulder. When Kian and I were noticed, everyone stepped aside, pressing their bodies even closer together, opening a small walkway to John’s bed.

  Madison stood next to John, holding his swollen purple hand. Her usually stern features melted into a mask of grief. Rebecca sat in a wheelchair holding Madison’s other hand and Luca stood behind Rebecca, both hands resting on her shoulders in comfort. Mrs. LaMotte, Nurse Bennet, and Dr. Stone stood on the opposite side of the bed.

  I took my place next to Rebecca, taking her free hand and scanning the crowd. Lacy stood stoically at the front of the throng of grievers, her tear stained face a mirror image to my own.

  Mrs. LaMotte caught my eyes, offering a sad smile before turning to the crowd. “John came to Saint Vincent’s later in life and even though he didn’t grow up with his new classmates, his easy-going, fun personality made it easy for him to make new friends. He was a prankster and often a thorn in the administration’s sid
e, but he kept things interesting and laughs could always be had when he was around. I will miss him.”

  Dr. Stone turned to us, eyebrow raised in question.

  Madison, Rebecca, and I had said goodbye the night before in private. None of us had had the strength to address a crowd and talk about how John used to be. Most everyone here knew John in some way and didn’t need us to remind them of how amazing he was. I shook my head and Dr. Stone turned off the machines keeping John alive.

  Out of morbid curiosity, I tuned in to my secondary and focused on the faint glow of John’s Talent. It took two minutes for the faint yellow light of his Talent to begin to fade into darkness. Tears flowed at will from my eyes and I knew his spirit was gone. I met the eyes of my friends and their shoulders slumped and heaved as I let my face tell them what my soul knew.

  John was dead.

  It took another three minutes for John’s chest to stop moving and for the doctor to declare John officially dead. We stood and watched as the nursing staff quietly extricated the grieving mass of people, leaving only those closest to him in the now empty trauma ward. None of us released a breath as they covered John’s body.

  There would be no public memorial service. It wasn’t the Caelian way. We would hold a private service reserved for the closest friends and family. Last night had been ours. We had cried and laughed. John’s spirit was faint, but still glowing. We didn’t know if he could hear us, but we wanted him to leave this world with memories of us laughing and loving him.

  We spent the rest of the morning talking and taking comfort in each other. It was hard to watch John take his last breath, but in a small way a lot easier than any of us had expected. We had had days to prepare for it and with my secondary able to see John’s soul barely holding on, we were reluctant but able to accept the inevitable. It was a soothing balm to our wounds that we were all thankful for.

  A big part of me didn’t want to accept it, though. That same part was boiling over with rage. I no longer harbored guilt for Michael and John’s death or Rebecca’s injury. It was replaced by the knowledge of who was responsible.

  Miles Koenig, my grandfather. I had decided to stop claiming him. He was no longer my grandfather, but a man who had caused the death of many people, two of whom I had loved. He had attacked the home I grew up in, displacing hundreds of children. Anger boiled beneath the surface of my skin. It was time I turned the tables and went after him instead.

  A loud yawn broke through my thoughts. My eyes shot to the clock; it was later than I had expected and here I was brooding instead of talking with my friends.

  Rebecca stretched her arms above her head. “I’ve got to get to bed. Tomorrow I start physical therapy. Soon I’ll be fitted for my prosthetic.” Her smile was bright although it didn’t reach her eyes. Luca stood and grabbed the handles of Rebecca’s wheelchair, ready to guide her back to the infirmary. They had been spending a lot of time together and the thought made me happy.

  Madison and I stood to give her hugs before Luca pushed her out of the room. Madison watched them leave, then hunched over as if the weight of the world sat on her shoulders alone.

  “I shouldn’t be mad that she and Luca are hanging out, but I kind of am.” Madison looked at me, an infinite sadness filling the depths her eyes, competing with the guilt she had held on to ever since I had first spoken with her after the attack.

  “It’s understandable. You just lost not only your friend, but the man you loved and she is starting something new, reminding you of what you lost. You can’t help the way you feel, only how you act on those feelings. Rebecca isn’t getting close to Luca to hurt you.”

  “I know that.” She released a long sigh. “Those months you were grieving Liam, I secretly thought you were being over dramatic, but now I get it. It’s hard losing someone you love.”

  “It is, but you helped me realize that it’s not the end of the world. No matter how much it feels like it.”

  Madison nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You’re going to the therapist tomorrow, right?” My words came out slow, cautious. When I had first approached her with the therapist’s contact information, she had reacted with explosive violence, throwing a hospital chair and catching a curtain on fire. It hadn’t been one of her best moments.

  “Yes. I’ll be there.” Madison stood and pulled me up into her arms. We took comfort in each other’s embrace. There were no more words to say. She pulled back and patted my cheek before leaving Kian and me alone.

  “Today has been draining. I can’t wait for a hot shower and my warm bed.”

  “Let’s get you to your room then.”

  We had only taken two steps when both of our communicators came alive, the ringing echoing throughout the empty hall.

  COME TO MCCREDIE’S OFFICE NOW.

  “Have you been summoned too?” I asked. My voice was flat, no emotion left in me to even care what McCredie had to say. I couldn’t even be mad at him for summoning me after my friend had just died. I’ll be mad tomorrow.

  Kian growled a “Yes” before grabbing my hand, pulling me behind him. My feet barely touched the ground as he dragged me toward the administration wing. I guess he can just go ahead and be angry for the both of us.

  By the time we arrived at McCredie’s office, Kian was vibrating with anger. I pulled him to a stop right outside the doors to his office and placed my hands on his chest.

  “Calm down,” I demanded.

  Kian’s jaw was clenched tight, rotating as he ground his teeth. He bounced from one foot to the other while clenching and releasing his fist in a choreographed dance of restrained anger. I placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face, forcing him to look me in the eyes.

  “Calm. Down.”

  It took a few breaths and a soft kiss on the lips for Kian to release some of the tension from his muscles when our communicators went off again. Kian growled and slammed his palms against the doors of McCredie’s office, throwing them open with a deafening BANG! He barged into the room. His size and temper made him look as if he were taking up twice as much space. He was more than intimidating.

  McCredie, Captain Monroe, and Mrs. LaMotte sat around the mahogany desk, stunned by Kian’s sudden intrusion into their meeting.

  “How dare you?” Kian growled. The sound was menacing and even though it wasn’t directed at me in the slightest, I shrank back from the intensity. “Sadie just lost her best friend. THIS MORNING! What couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  McCredie collected himself, looking more like a politician than ever. His shoulders pulled back, causing his square jaw to level out. McCredie meet Kian’s unrelenting stare with one of his own. “I understand what Sadie is going through, but there have been developments that need her attention. Now, will you calm down and let us explain?”

  I stepped around Kian and sank into the plush chair next to Mrs. LaMotte. She reached out and took my hand inside her soft bony one, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. Our eyes met and I didn’t know if it was because I had just lost John or if I was just numb in general, but her presence didn’t make me want to punch her in her the face anymore.

  Kian dragged a fold out chair next to me. Everyone winced as the legs screeched across the hardwood floor. He plopped down on the chair with a grunt and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

  “I guess that means you can talk now.” My voice was flat, void of any emotion.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Captain Monroe said and I turned to give him a small smile of thanks.

  “Everyone in the Underground is saddened that you lost a dear friend,” McCredie said. I turned to him, my face blank. I had no smiles left for McCredie tonight.

  He coughed and righted his designer tie before continuing, “Your grandfather has approached the Caelian Council claiming you as his granddaughter and wanting you released to the Koenig family.”

  “I’m 18. He doesn’t have jurisdiction over me. I’m not choosing the Koenigs.”

  “Yes,
but he’s not asking for custody. He’s claiming that the Moreau family has stolen his chance at knowing his grandchild and wants you remanded to the Koenig family for the remainder of your education.”

  “He cannot be serious,” I scoffed. All the anger I had suppressed in order to grieve John suddenly broke free like a ruptured dam.

  “He is, and the Caelian Council has scheduled a mediation in two days.”

  I jumped up, suddenly and without care, knocking over the chair I was sitting on with a loud crash. Kian stood, his brows knitted in a frown. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

  With a sharp turn on the ball of my foot, I left with three voices yelling after me. Kian’s hand grabbed mine and pulled me to a stop when we had reached the hall with the elevators.

  “Want to get out of here?” He asked.

  “More than anything, but how?”

  “I’ve made friends while you’ve been training. They could help. Besides, we’re not prisoners here. We can leave if we want. I think we could get out of here tomorrow night. What do you think?”

  I jumped into his arms and pressed my lips against his. His hands grasped my hips, his fingers almost bruising as he pulled me up so he could deepen the kiss before letting me slide down his body to the ground.

  “If I get kisses like that, then I’ll make a way for us to escape every night.”

  My laugh echoed off the walls before I pinched my lips together in an attempt to be quiet. Kian’s eyes sparkled as he watched me struggle. It felt good to laugh after the rollercoaster of a day I had just had.

  Kian. He had been my strength. My support. I didn’t know how I would have gotten through the last few months without him. He grounded me. He understood how my mind worked. So much so that sometimes it felt like he could read my thoughts. His touch was comforting and it also lit a fire in my core that I had never felt before.