by E. J. Mellow
With a weary sigh, Dev scrubbed at his forehead as Aveline’s words tumbled through him, leaving a deep ache in his chest. He knew she was right.
“She’s right, you know.” A familiar woman’s voice spoke to him through the thin partition to his left, and Dev glanced up to see Aurora turn the corner into his cube.
She was wearing a black tank top and pants, and her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. Her usual high cheekbones were now hollow and gaunt, and her feline-tipped green eyes, which once dazzled with the glint of a pleasurable secret, currently held only exhaustion and regret. It pained Dev more than getting the burns on his back to see his old friend in such a state, but he knew that what she suffered from was nothing he could fix, nor did he really believe he should.
Aaron, Aurora’s twin brother, whom everyone had believed died, had returned to Terra. And unfortunately it had not been a cause for celebration like it should have been, for he resurrected as a crazed, bitter, heartbroken creature, seeking nothing but revenge for a love lost—Anebel, Dev’s girlfriend and Aaron’s Nocturna partner.
Anabel died in a tragic ambush with the Metus. And though Dev suffered her death just as badly as Aaron, Aaron ultimately believed Dev was responsible for them losing Anebel that day, making her too bold and careless. So Aaron had waited patiently in the dark, seeking retribution, which ultimately came many decades later in the form of him ripping Molly away from Terra, away from Dev, with a Conscious blade, making Dev suffer once more for loving someone. So while Dev wanted to be empathetic to Aurora’s situation, he couldn’t separate her from her brother. Especially when she still showed such tender sympathy and love for him, despite his recent sins and betrayal. This left Dev uncertain if he and Aurora could ever become the friends they once were.
“What are you doing here?” Dev asked.
Aurora showcased her right arm. “Seems you’re not the only one that suffered a burn,” she said, displaying a fresh bandage around her bicep.
“Tunnel mission or run-in?”
“A little of both.” She walked over to the spare chair that sat in the corner of his alcove and slumped into it. “So you pulled the usual bullheaded Dev, huh? I heard pretty much everything through these rice-paper walls.” She tapped the thin partition behind her.
“I’m not in the mood, Aurora,” Dev said as he picked up the fresh T-shirt Aveline had brought him, gingerly slipping it on. His muscles ached with every small movement, and he silently grumbled. He wasn’t used to such a feeling—weakness.
“Really? Because it seems you’ve been in a constant mood these days,” came Aveline’s dry reply.
“Have you been to see him today?” Dev asked, his abrupt change of topic seeming to throw Aurora off, for she visibly flinched before her lips thinned.
“I don’t want to talk about him with you.”
“I’m not looking for a discussion. I just want to know if you’ve seen him.”
She studied Dev for a moment. “No, not yet.”
“But you will?”
She sat up straighter, a wariness in her gaze. “Yes, I’m scheduled to visit after this.”
Aaron was being held in confinement awaiting his trial, and Dev’s pulse quickened at Aurora’s answer. He glanced out to the sea of injured Nocturna, to the man who rested across from him, one arm draped over his face as a Repart Sleeve worked on the other. In the next alcove over, a women sat, features strained, as she clasped her half-charred leg, waiting for a nurse to attend her. This was only the first wave of the war, but such scenes continued on endlessly, the energy coming off each soldier low and dejected. Terra needed a boost, something to rally behind and raise spirits, or they would never be able to win this battle. Dev knew the one person who could do it too, who was supposed to be here giving his people hope, but she wasn’t, and the thought that she possibly never would be filled him with murderous intent.
“I’ll go with you.” Dev stood from his chair, testing the flexibility of the bandages on his back. He didn’t care if the newly healed burns left a scar. He couldn’t sit here any longer.
Aurora stood with him, her eyes going wide. “I don’t— No, you can’t.”
“You have no authority over me,” Dev said curtly as he tugged on his boots. “I’m either going to go with you or go alone. Your choice.”
Her face turned a shade whiter. “Fine, you can come, but let me have my time with him.”
Dev nodded. “I wasn’t planning on talking. I just need to see him.”
She regarded him cautiously. “Why?”
Dev walked passed her. “Because sometimes you have to look the devil in the face again to remember.”
—∞—
The white holding cell was bigger and cleaner than Dev would have liked. In his imaginings he pictured a tiny, damp, dark cage where random puddles of water festered in the corner while rodents skittered in for a drink. Even though rats didn’t exist in Terra, Dev felt better believing they did, especially here where they could occasionally gnaw on the rag-torn clothes of their prisoner. But what he looked upon was quite the opposite, and it filled him with even more seething rage. Aaron’s chamber was spacious, with a clean tiled floor, a small toilet and wash station in the corner, and a cot in the other. The only degree of satisfaction Dev got was from the absence of windows and the oppressive bright lighting of the Navitas overhead. He prayed to the elders they were kept on at all hours.
Sitting on the other side of a one-way glass, Dev watched Aurora speak with her brother. His dirty-blond hair had grown long since the weeks of his capture and currently fell messily in front of his sunken eyes, while a scraggly beard now marred his face. His white jumper sagged against his once-broad shoulders, his weight loss evident as he sat across from his sister. A table had been brought in, and his hands were bound to the center of it with thick rings of Navitas, the blue-white energy coiling together in an infinity sign. Dev viewed a profile of the arrangement, giving him access to see any movement under and atop the table. Though Dev had told Aurora he had no interest in talking with Aaron, the truth was, he wasn’t allowed. After nearly killing the man with his bare hands—it took three men to haul Dev away from Aaron’s unconscious and bloodied form—he was given a restraining order. The sentencing was almost laughable, for who was the real threat here? It took a bit of coaxing for the Vigil guards to allow Dev even this close, but he thought their leniency came with their shared hatred for their charge. Aaron wasn’t only a traitor. Before that he was Vigil who refused his born duty. Instead he demanded to become a Nocturna guard. Dev wasn’t certain, but it wouldn’t come as a surprise if his people still resented him for that. Though his sister seemed untouched by such prejudice.
“Why don’t you let them cut your hair?” Aurora asked, an edge of tenderness in her voice that made Dev’s jaw clench. She tried reaching out to push back a long blond tendril, but Aaron turned his face away.
“Have you eaten today?” Aurora tried again.
“Would it please you if I said yes?” came Aaron’s cool reply.
“It would.”
“Then yes, mia gemella, I had a feast fit for the elders,” he responded dryly, using an old endearment between the two that meant my twin.
Aurora didn’t seem put off by his sarcasm, merely forcing a small smile while gently rubbing at her arm where the bandage was still wrapped. Aaron glanced to it.
“Have the Metus been causing more trouble?” he asked, his tone more inquisitive than concerned.
“You know I can’t talk to you about that,” she said, glancing to the glass where Dev and two other guards watched. A flash of annoyance passed through Aaron’s features before he covered it up with blithe indifference.
“Than what can we discuss?” he asked flippantly. “The weather? I hear it will remain oddly in a constant summer night.”
“Aaron, please—”
“What?” he snapped, his frustration finally shining through. “Why do you keep coming here, Auro
ra? Seeing me can’t bring you joy. In fact, every time you come back, you look less and less presentable. Is your plan to join me in my madness?”
“You’re not mad.”
“Oh, I can assure you I’m quite crazed, mia gemella. Or haven’t they told you yet?”
Aurora frowned.
“Yes, the doctors came to see me, the elders’ little Vigil pets. They asked me many questions. It was so fun though, talking with them. Their reactions were the best part.”
“Aaron, what are you talking about?”
“I finally answered truthfully. I told them what all of us have been thinking. You should be proud.”
She shook her head. “You’re not making any sense.”
“Funny, that’s just what they said. Well, ‘not of sound mind’ was the more specific wording.”
Aurora blinked, seemingly lost for words.
“But it’s perfect really,” Aaron mused, more to himself. “A crazy person’s actions are never his own, right? They can’t truly be blamed for anything.” A wicked gleam appeared in his hazel eyes. “So someone like me, well, could get away with murder.”
Dev resisted charging the glass at the same moment an audible gasp escaped Aurora.
“You have to stop this, brother. Please, for my sake. Be yourself again. They might even—”
“Myself?” Aaron cut her off with a sneer. “And what would that be? Tell me. What is the Aaron that you so fondly remember?”
“A kind one,” she snapped back. “One that would never act as you are now. Someone that was capable of love and—”
“Love.” He laughed. “You would have me love again? Like he was able to? No, that part of me is gone.”
“Even for me?” Aurora asked, a raw vulnerability present.
They regarded each other in silence, and Dev watched as Aaron’s features changed from cruel disgust to sullen and sincere. “Mia gemella,” he said softly, leaning in once more. “I’m sorry. That was not fair of me to say.”
Aurora’s whole body visibly relaxed at that, as if she finally got the emotional response she was craving from her brother.
“Maybe next time,” he went on, “if we want these meetings to go more smoothly, you could bring me a gift, hmm? Something to help me pass my time here?”
Aurora didn’t reply, only watched him warily as he shifted forward to lay his hands atop hers, his face wincing slightly when the cuffs sizzled against his skin. “Don’t you want to ease my pain from being stuck in this place?”
She looked down at their connection. “Of course I do.”
“Then try and bring me something sweet. Even a band will do. I just need a tiny bit of relief.”
Understanding flashed through her eyes, and she pulled her hands away. “You’re asking me to score you Nectus?” she asked, clearly appalled at mentioning the euphoric drug that was a Terra club favorite.
A milder dose was often mixed into the bands that adored dancers’ limbs, but the more pure form, when ingested, almost instantly caused addiction. Even so, the drug wasn’t illegal in Terra, only frowned upon and usually placed citizens who used it into lower brackets in their systems. The fact that Aaron seemed to crave it piqued Dev’s interest greatly, and his spine straightened.
“It’s been so long, mia gemella.” He twitched slightly as he tried to scratch his arm. “My body…it hurts.”
She shook her head. “Aaron, what’s happened to you?”
“What I deserve,” he said, his tone referencing something other than the reasons for being held in this cell.
As if suddenly realizing something, a perplexed look overtook Aurora’s features. “Aaron…” She hesitated. “If you’ve been going through withdrawals since being put in here, that means— How have you been able to get Nectus? You said you haven’t been back to Terra in decades.”
Dev stepped closer to the one-sided mirror as Aurora’s words hit him full force. That Metus scum, he thought. Aaron had been coming here right under their noses for years, getting his drug in Terra. Which meant— By the stars, was it possible? Who had been his contact in the city? Someone here had known he was alive, and keeping it secret. Who would do such a thing? Dev’s hands clenched into fists, all of the hate boiling to the surface as he stared into the room.
As if suddenly sensing a presence on the other side of the glass, Aaron turned to peer at the wall, his sickly, dilated eyes somehow able to find Dev’s, and a chill ran through him. This man represented everything Dev had loved and lost in his life, and with a bitter resolve he realized that Aaron thought the exact same thing about him. How ironic to find oneself in one’s enemy.
Dev watched a now-panicked Aurora try to regain her brother’s attention, knowing the danger of having Aaron suspect who might be on the other side. She called his name—nothing. She even dared to grab his chin and force his face back to her, but he didn’t move. Aaron’s gaze stayed trained toward Dev, a subtle understanding soaking through it.
And it took every ounce of Dev’s strength to remain motionless as he held the connection. Memories of all the monsters he’d killed abruptly swam around him, the blood from their deaths forever staining his hands, the weight of it. But as Aaron’s lips slowly lifted into a leering tilt and the gleam in his eyes changed into taunting pleasure, Dev thought darkly, What’s another?
— 6 —
I hope Rae is staying close to you.
But not too close.
—Part of a letter from Dev to Molly
He’s chasing me, his gaining shadow sending my heart into overdrive as I sprint past a group of pedestrians lazily walking along the river path, and continue at a breakneck speed. My sweat turns cool against the rush of air breezing past, and my lungs burn, urging me to stop. But I can’t. I only have forward now. Going back brings hesitation, uncertainty, and I have no room for that anymore. So I race the future to get here faster, for that’s all I can see these days, the glimmer of hope it holds for me on the horizon. But no matter how much ground I cover, how fast I run, the end eludes me, never getting any closer—a mirage of progress.
With a growl I go faster, pushing myself the last final yards until the path I run on ends, barricaded by a railing that separates me from the water, leaving me no choice but to stop.
I bend over, panting.
“By the elders,” eventually comes Rae’s deep voice from behind me. “You actually beat me.” His breaths are labored as he steps to my side—something I never thought I would live to hear. The week and a half following our visit to Vita Corp and learning about my possible way to get back to Terra filled me with new vigor. To say that I’ve become determined to regain my physical and mental strength in preparation would be putting it mildly. It’s all I can think about, and now that there seems to be a game plan, a projected goal, I’ve found the strength to get out of bed again.
“I told you those pies would catch up with you.” I wipe my face with my T-shirt and lean against the railing of the dock, the cool morning air brushing along my bare legs. We stand at our usual stopping place after running the West Side, which ends at the tip of Manhattan by the Financial District. It’s still early, and a soft fog lifts off the Hudson River, the overcast sky painting the Statue of Liberty in gray rather than her usual green.
“Pies have nothing to do with it.” Rae leans in. “Your improvement is outstanding.”
I shrug.
“No, it really is.” Rae pushes my shoulder so I face him. “I’m proud of you.”
I study my hands, his words meaning more to me than I would have thought. “Thanks.”
“You’ll have to promise me that you’ll challenge Dev to another spar the moment you get back.” Rae grins. “He won’t know what hit him.”
Like with any mention of Dev, my chest fills with a strange mixture of excitement and sadness. “Do you really think this will work?”
He watches me closely, his golden eyes not missing a thing as wisps of his pulled-back blond hair stir softly around his dark comp
lexion. “Yes,” he says after a moment. “It’ll work. With every power I have, I’ll make sure it does.”
I nod, the deep sincerity of his words almost knocking something loose that I’ve been desperate to plug forever. I hold the tears at bay.
But Rae still seems to sense my emotions, for he brings me into a hug, which I willingly embrace, man sweat and all. As his giant arms engulf me, his familiar scent of sunshine and something sweet gives me a strange sense of comfort I was unaware I needed.
“We’ve got this, Dreamer,” he murmurs into my hair. “Your story hasn’t ended just yet.”
I smile at that and am about to push away and make a joke about the power of sweaty hugs, when the sound of my name being called causes Rae and me to turn, still half embracing.
Jared stands at the end of the dock, slightly out of breath from his own apparent run, staring at us. His curly, dirty-blond locks are damp from the mist in the air, and his strong biceps peek out of a gray T-shirt that clings quite flatteringly against his abs. His hazel gaze unmistakably holds a look of shock and, I’m surprised to note, anger.
Just awesome. Of course we’d run into the one person I wouldn’t want to in a city of eight million.
“Hey, Jared,” I say, stepping away from Rae and smoothing back what I’m sure is a mess of mad-scientist hair.
“Hi,” he says after a moment, suspicion clearly evident in his tone.
Christ.
