REDEMPTION
BOOK III OF THE ENIGMA BLACK TRILOGY
BY SARA FURLONG BURR
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Without limiting rights under copyright reserved below no part of this work may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Copyright© 2014 Redemption by Sara Furlong-Burr
“It is not tolerable, it is not possible, that from so much death, so much sacrifice and ruin, so much heroism, a greater and better humanity shall not emerge.”
- Charles de Gaulle
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One: The Bride
Chapter Two: Consciousness
Chapter Three: A Witch Hunt
Chapter Four: Darkness
Chapter Five: Confusion
Chapter Six: The Message
Chapter Seven: A Turning Point
Chapter Eight: Now or Never
Chapter Nine: The Goodbye
Chapter Ten: Choices
Chapter Eleven: Escape
Chapter Twelve: The Game-Changer
Chapter Thirteen: Failure
Chapter Fourteen: The Shot
Chapter Fifteen: Trust
Chapter Sixteen: The Rebellion
Chapter Seventeen: Love and Desire
Chapter Eighteen: The Bounty
Chapter Nineteen: The Best Laid Plans
Chapter Twenty: Time
Chapter Twenty-One: A Reason to Fight
Chapter Twenty-Two: Betrayal
Chapter Twenty-Three: Hero
Chapter Twenty-Four: A Vision
Chapter Twenty-Five: Never the Same
Chapter Twenty-Six: Captured
Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Change of Plans
Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Ruminations of Victor Black
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Secrets and Lies
Chapter Thirty: The Wager
Chapter Thirty-One: Revelations
Chapter Thirty-Two: Trial and Tribulation
Chapter Thirty-Three: The Procession
Chapter Thirty-Four: In Love and War
Chapter Thirty-Five: A Promise Kept
Chapter Thirty-Six: The Locket
Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Final Goodbye
Epilogue: Six Months Later
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Prologue
I could hear the beat of the drums. It reverberated in my head, a war cry only audible to me. Its disembodied rhythm tore its way through my veins, simultaneously energizing my soul and reviving my battered body. Ignoring the pain, the holes in my tattered suit, the screams from the dying city I once called home, I charged on to the sound of their deafening chorus.
With each footfall, images crept into my mind, playing in a continuous loop. Images of my father and mother, of Jake, Lucy, and Blake, whose lives had been lost in this decade of chaos we’d come to know as life.
It would all end tonight.
No more would a child know the meaning of the word death. No more would our cities remain abandoned hollow shells of the hubs of prosperity they once were. Fear would loosen its grip on society. The deaths of those we loved and of those who loved us would not have been in vain. Tonight would mark the end to all of it, and we were willing to die to ensure its demise.
We would die to ensure his demise.
Next to me, Ian ran, keeping up with my fevered pace, his body just as bloodied and bruised as my own. We were both numb. Too numb to notice the agony we should have felt, too numb to care what happened to us anymore; for we had been deceived in the worst possible way, and deception had a way of turning suffering into fuel, igniting unbridled rage. Ian lunged forward, overtaking me. A flap from his torn suit bounced with each step he took, exposing his left shoulder blade. Blood, caked with dirt, dotted his exposed flesh, revealing only a hint of an injury kept hidden by the remaining material. I wondered whether he could hear the drums too, or whether he heard anything at all.
I sped up to catch him, jumping over a pillar that had been toppled over, presumably by one of the many explosions that had rocked the city over the past couple of hours. Had I not grown up here, I wouldn’t have been able to recognize some of the buildings for what they once were. My former high school, the bank where’d I’d spent my final days of normalcy, and the diner where Blake offered me the chance to rid myself of my nightmares were now nothing more than indiscernible piles of concrete.
In the streets, dodging debris, escaping smoke and flames, survivors of the attacks ran haphazardly, seeking refuge where none existed. Above us, the late evening sky, reddened by the flames that hugged each block, took on the appearance of fresh blood flowing from a gaping wound. If someone had asked me before that moment what I thought the end of the world would look like, my description would have paled in comparison to the scene splayed out before us now. We were no longer on Earth, but in the very bowels of Hell itself.
This attack had been personal, but then again, they all had been personal in a way. The crazed vendetta, the evil that resided in the entity the people had come to know as The Man in Black, had unleashed itself to the nth degree. Perhaps sensing that his reign of terror was drawing to an end, he was determined—no, desperate—to go out with a bang and take out the last of those people I had known and loved in my former life in the process.
“Turn left down the next block,” I instructed Ian, hoping he could hear me through the insanity surrounding us.
“There’s a next block?” he responded, his pace slowing a notch. “How do you tell where one ends and the other begins?”
“Follow me.” I passed Ian, picking up my pace. Whatever happened tonight, whatever happened to me, I couldn’t—no, I wouldn’t—let them suffer for the choices I had made. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ian, matching me stride for stride, unwilling to let me dive headfirst alone into the imminent confrontation that awaited us. He kept pace with me even as I swiftly rounded a corner next to a small café near my old apartment building and bolted down an adjacent alleyway.
“How much farther?” His voice revealed his apprehension. I had noticed it building with each step we made and with each breath he took.
“Five blocks,” I answered him in an unaffected tone, trying to keep my own fears from betraying me. “The Woodland Lodge is five blocks ahead.” My voice shook more than I would have liked.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.
So much for being the strong one.
Ian looked at me between back and forth glances at the street ahead of us; his green eyes pierced through my helmet as though he was trying to see inside my soul to find the answer he was looking for. “No,” I finally answered him truthfully. “There’s nothing okay about me right now.”
“We’ll find him, Celaine. We’ll find Chase and the rest of them, and we’ll get them out safely. It’s not them he wants—
“Exactly, Ian. It’s me he wants. I’m the reason for this. If they die tonight, it’s because of their association with me.” I paused, the tears welling in my eyes, momentarily blinding me. “If you die tonight— My body was fo
rced to a sudden halt as though I’d been strapped to a tether that had run out of slack. Around my arm, I saw Ian’s hand and the firm grip his fingers had around my wrist.
“Listen to me.” He pulled my mask up, forcing us to stand face to face, green eyes to brown eyes. “I’m not even going to pretend to know what’s going to happen tonight, or what the final outcome will be. Whether we survive this nightmare or not, I just want you to know that there’s no place I’d rather be than fighting alongside you right now, no matter what the consequences. Leaving Norfolk with you was the best decision I ever made, and nothing—nothing—will make me regret the chain of events that brought me to this place with you at this very moment.”
I felt a tear escape from the corner of my eye, and Ian’s gloved hand swiftly wiped it away before it had a chance to fall down my cheek. “Ian, I—
“I know you don’t feel the same way about me—
“Ian, stop. I—”
“Let me finish my thought,” he interrupted me again, gently touching his fingers to my lips. “Please, Celaine, just let me get it out. Then you can tell me how wrong I am.” The tiniest hint of a smile crept across his face, the rest of which betrayed the coolness he was trying so hard to project. I nodded without taking my eyes away from his, and the new creases that had developed in the corners of them over the past few weeks. Worry. We’d both experienced enough of it to last us a lifetime. “I know you don’t love me the same way you loved him, or, perhaps, even the way you still love him now,” he began again. “And although that’s frustrating as hell, I also know that I can make you happy again, and I think you know that too. You’re just too afraid to admit it to yourself.” He caressed my cheek, pausing to let me absorb everything he had said without expecting a response in return. “All I ask is that you promise me one thing.”
“Anything,” I answered him automatically, knowing that I meant my response wholeheartedly, even though I hadn’t fully processed the weight of his words.
“Promise me that if we both make it out of this alive, you’ll give me the chance to make you whole again.”
Tears fell down my face unhindered. “I promise.”
Ian leaned in closer to me, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered.
We stood together in an embrace that no amount of force could separate—an island in the sea of chaos that crashed around us—before we allowed reality to set in again. Then, together, we resumed our journey into the unknown, to whatever fate had in store for us.
I could hear the beat of the drums. Their echo haunted me with every step I took, with every beat of my heart. They beat for Ian, whose love I didn’t deserve; they beat for Chase, whose life was now in our hands.
A Few Weeks Earlier
Chapter One
The Bride
“What do you ladies think of this one?” Paige asked, stepping out into the waiting area of Catherine’s Bridal from the fitting room. “Is it too plain? Too non-traditional? Should I go with sleeves?” Without waiting for their responses, she rushed over to a nearby rack and shuffled through the assortment of gowns. “Yes, sleeves,” she said, pulling one from the rack and returning it indecisively. “I should definitely try on one with sleeves.”
“I think you look absolutely stunning in all of them,” Carrie said, suppressing a yawn. “Really, dear, you could wear a burlap sack down the aisle and still turn heads.”
“Oh, Mrs. Matthews, you’re just too sweet. And I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have both you and MaKayla here helping me with preparations for the big day.” Paige smoothed a fold in the chiffon material of a strapless, off-white gown while she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She frowned, pulling up her long blonde hair to get a better view of the back of the dress. “Would you mind if I try on a couple more? I’m just not totally in love with any of them yet, you know? I swear I’ll only take up twenty more minutes of your time this afternoon.”
“Oh, Paige, of course not. Take all the time you need.”
“Yeah, I mean, we’ve only been here for two hours, twenty-four minutes, and eighteen seconds,” MaKayla said, rummaging through her purse. “It’s not like we had anything better to do today.” She pulled out a tube of cherry lip balm, grimacing as she caught sight of Carrie’s icy glare throwing invisible daggers in her direction. “Take all the time you need, sister,” she said more enthusiastically. “Hell, try on the whole store. We’re here for you, babe.”
Giddy, Paige ran over to MaKayla and threw her arms around her. “MaKayla, I knew you would come around,” she said, practically lifting her up from the leather couch she was sitting on. “Chase was right, you just needed a little bit of time to get used to the idea of having to share your big brother with me.”
“Darn that brother of mine, always giving away my secrets,” MaKayla replied, her face reddening. “That’s right, Paige. I was so worried about having to share him with you, but I think I’ll be able to manage after today.” She grabbed a Kleenex from a nearby coffee table and pretended to dab a tear away from her eye.
“Honey, it’s okay. Just remember you’re not losing a brother, you’re gaining a big sister,” Paige announced. She released her arms from around MaKayla and headed back to the fitting rooms. “Okay, well, since you two don’t have any plans, I’m going to keep looking for my dream dress,” she squealed, practically skipping inside.
“Someone doesn’t understand the concept of sarcasm,” Makayla grumbled. She balled up the Kleenex in her hand and threw it into a nearby trashcan, shuddering again when she noticed her mother was still glaring at her.
“You need to stop, and you need to stop now,” Carrie admonished. “Seriously, MaKayla, we all know you’re not thrilled with the engagement, but Paige and your brother are getting married in less than two months, which means she’s going to be a permanent fixture in our family.”
“Nothing’s permanent, change happens every day. Besides, it’s not June yet. A lot can happen between now and then, like the apocalypse, for instance.”
“That’s enough out of you,” Carrie sighed, exasperated. “Look, she makes your brother happy, and that’s all that should matter to you. Actually, that fact alone should be enough to make you appreciate her being in his life. You saw how devastated he was after Celaine left, how his very soul seemed to shatter into pieces. Do you really want to see that again?”
“Of course not.” MaKayla’s eyes searched the floor, where she focused on the intricate gray fibers in the carpet, unable to look her mother in the eyes.
“Now is not the time for selfishness,” Carrie began again. “Besides, we need to think about Chase and what he wants, not about us and what we want.” MaKayla perked up, gaping at her mother, who cast a small smile in her direction.
“Well,” Paige re-entered the waiting room in her newest selection, “what do you think of this one?” The long-sleeved, alabaster gown clung to her body, perfectly fitting around all the appropriate curvatures of her form, as if designed for her and only her.
“My, oh my, I think we have a winner,” Carrie said with a gasp. “You aren’t going to get much more perfect than that.”
“Do you really think so?” Paige asked, trying to contain her excitement.
“Absolutely, honey.”
“So do I,” she said, jumping up and down. “This is it. This is my dress; the dress I’ll be wearing when I become Mrs. Chase Matthews.” Tears formed in her eyes, and she ran over to the coffee table to retrieve a Kleenex. “I’m going to go and change out of it before my makeup starts to run and stains the material. I’ll meet you two ladies up front.”
“Hey, Paige,” MaKayla’s unexpected call stopped her in her tracks.
“Yeah?” Paige asked hesitantly.
“I just wanted you to know that I think the long sleeves are a great choice. They’re very…classy, I guess.”
Paige stared at her fiancé’s sister in disbelief. “Why, MaKayla, I think that’s the sweetest thing I’v
e ever heard you say.”
“What can I say? I’m turning over a new leaf. Who knows, pretty soon I may be taking a chainsaw to the whole damn tree.”
“I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that. I’ve always wanted a little sister, and pretty soon my dream will come true. Just think, MaKayla, we can go shopping together, get our hair done, do makeovers, talk boys, all that fun girly stuff.”
“Sounds wonderful.” MaKayla contorted her face into a smile, her teeth gritting together.
“I know, right? First, I found this gorgeous dress, and now I have you on my side. Could this day get any better?” Paige asked, not entirely expecting an answer as she entered the dressing room and closed the door behind her.
“I’m holding you personally accountable for the years of therapy I’m going to need because of the asinine bullshit she’s going to drag me to over the years,” MaKayla sighed at Carrie.
“Already on it, dear. I’ve had a therapist lined up for you ever since your imaginary friend carried over into puberty.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
“I’ve just had the greatest idea,” Paige announced, running out of the fitting room half-dressed. “MaKayla, I would love it if you would be my maid of honor.”
“Gee, Paige, that sounds wonderful,” MaKayla stammered, “but don’t you already have one of those?”
“Yes, but I think it would be so much more meaningful to have my future sister-in-law standing right next to me as I say ‘I do’ to her brother, you know what I mean?”
MaKayla glanced back at her mother, who looked at her expectantly. “Yes, of course I will be your maid of honor. I would be thrilled.”
“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands. “Just let me get changed, and then we’ll start looking for a dress for you, too. Our wedding colors are rose and blush, which shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“Pink and slightly more pink. Sounds swell.”
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