The Reverians Series Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  A loud assault hits the side of the wall. The sound of Zack’s fist making contact with the plaster, maybe breaking through it.

  “Gods, Em,” he says, his voice smaller now. More pleading. “Please understand. I have to do this.”

  I throw myself into a sitting position. I throw on my “heartless hat” and find it fits just fine this morning. It’s never quite fit as well as it does now. “Hey,” I say, my voice cool, calm. “Don’t guilt yourself. I’m already taken. I’m married to this war.”

  “Open up, Em,” he pleads.

  “Go. Away. Zack,” I say, covering the emotions brewing to the surface.

  For a full minute I listen to him breathing, stirring on the other side of the door. I sit stiffly in the bed, sheets and comforter wrapped around me. And then his soft-soled shoes echo down the other side of the hallway and he’s gone.

  ***

  I shower and get ready. By the time I leave my room several hours have passed and I know everyone is at the wedding. My timing to travel to Parker’s will be perfect. I might even have a chance to destroy some of the stereogram posters that display subliminal messages around town. I open the door and bound out, hungry and thirsty from all the tears. I’ve made it all the way down the stairs before I see him. Propped in the corner of the hallway is a stoic Zack. He’s been waiting for me.

  The sight of him makes me flinch. Seeing him wearing a black tuxedo twists my stomach into tight knots. I cover up my fright and revulsion with an awkward sigh and stalk past him, toward the kitchen. But he reaches out and grabs my wrist, twisting me around to face him.

  “You’re going to be late to your own wedding,” I say, pulling myself free of him.

  “Then I will be late,” he says, a cold edge in his voice.

  “Zack, you’ve made it clear there’s no reason for us to talk. Why are you torturing me like this?”

  “Because I need to see you one last time,” he says, his voice just above a whisper.

  I suck in a tear trying to escape. “That’s selfish.”

  “I know,” he says again in a hush. I strain to hear him over the rain beating down overhead.

  “Do you want to reiterate your love for me and then walk away? Is that what you had in mind for this conversation?”

  “Em, I can’t change what has to happen any more than I can change how I feel about you. I’ve tried on both accounts.”

  “You don’t have to be Chief of Staff,” I say.

  He sighs heavily. “I do though.”

  My anger and heartache take over me. Send me into an out of control state of being. Before I can stop myself I leech Zack’s power of telekinesis and yank the hundreds of books in the living room off their shelves and to the ground. They clatter into a giant heap. Unleashed dust rises up like a cloud in the air. Zack doesn’t even flinch. Instead he keeps his eyes on me. A quiet regret in them.

  “I realize you’re upset and that I’ve hurt you,” he says, his voice deliberate.

  “That statement completely trivializes the way I actually feel,” I scream and leech him again, this time bringing the three lamps in the room down on their sides, their shades folding in, their bulbs bursting.

  The cleaning crew will think he had a crazy party last night. And still Zack is regarding me with unending patience. But he’s also wearing that stupid mask. The one he’s worn our entire life, hid behind. Hid his love for me behind.

  “We are both heartbroken, Em. But the fact remains that I need to marry Dee. And even if I didn’t have to marry her, I’m not who you really want.”

  My eyes flash down to my stomach. I’m certain I’ve just been punched in the gut. But Zack’s balled fists remain by his side. It’s his words that have assaulted me. Their meaning bruising my insides. “What? You think I want Rogue?” I shake my head at him. “His soul has long moved on. A cold decayed body is all that remains of him now. And for those few short months we were together I did want Rogue. But all my life I’ve wanted you. I’ve always been in love with you. Even Rogue knew that.”

  He bristles at the confession.

  “It’s true,” I say.

  “Please stop, Em,” he begs. “This is just making it harder.”

  “You’re the one who stuck around to see me one last time,” I say, using his words.

  “I wanted to apologize,” he says, his voice sounding dead. “I’m sorry for when and how I told you my feelings. It was all wrong and I can’t take it back.”

  “What baffles me is that we both felt the same way about each other, but we were too stubborn to admit it,” I say, so furious at the both of us.

  “I had my reasons. A plan,” he says.

  “Yeah, well I don’t want to know any more than you’ve told me,” I say, anger flaring in my words. I’ve never spoken to Zack with such disdain. I’ve never felt this much contempt toward him. I back for the door, shaking my head at him, my eyes overflowing with disappointment.

  “This is not the way I want to end this,” he says, making up the space between us.

  End this. I loathe those words. And like the rain coming down overhead my tears roll over my cheeks. And at the sight of my tears Zack looks to be the one assaulted now. He reaches out for me, but I hold up a commanding hand stopping him. “Don’t,” I say and that one word seems to have the capacity to freeze him and also break something inside of him.

  “Em, please…”

  I corral my tears back inside me. Muster a new strength. “After seventeen years of friendship, I don’t want it to end like this either. I don’t want it to end at all, but we don’t really have a choice, do we?” I say each word individually, and my voice is too matter-of-fact. Too cold. All wrong for the moment.

  I allow Zack to take two steps until he’s right up against me. I don’t move, just stare up at his denim-blue eyes. “We always have a choice about how we end things,” he says. Tilting his round chin to the side, he leans down. I slide my hand up until it’s flush against his chest, my fingers grazing the breast buttons of his tuxedo shirt. He leans in closer, seeming to gauge me and this moment. And then the part of me which never wants the memory of his lips on mine etched into my mind, forces my hand to push him back, away from me. Confused heartbreak stretches across his face.

  “Whatever you do, don’t make her happy,” I say with a voice that doesn’t sound like mine. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

  I wrench open the door to be greeted by a flooding walkway and a haze of rain. With only a second’s hesitation I march over the threshold and out into the storm. I’m half soaked and halfway down the walk when I turn to see Zack in the doorway, a look of tormented heartache written on his face. And because I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut I turn to him and say too loudly, “Just tell me to come back and I will. Tell me you won’t marry her and I’ll be by your side.”

  He shudders, probably from the burden I’ve just placed on him. Then he shakes his head, a deliberate movement. “Go, Em. There’s no future for us.”

  I nod, and it carries with it the weight to stop my heart beating, but still it does. Probably because my urge to curse Zack is so strong. My best friend. I’ve never loved and hated someone with so much ferocity. I hold my head up high as I move through the streets, allowing the rain to pelt me. I don’t look back at his house, but I do feel his eyes on my back. Searing me. I know I’m being cruel, but I don’t know where else to stand in this battle. He’s my best friend and he’s about to desert me for a stupid war I created. I hate myself as much as I hate him. Everything is wrong about this moment. As the heartbroken crusader I’m supposed to care only for the people I’m fighting for. But the gods can damn me if they want to because I also want him. Selfishly, I want him even if it hurts our war effort. But that destiny is gone. Already spun and tarnished.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The freezing rain soaks through my clothes at once but I barely notice. I’m only half aware of my drenched hair or my water-logged shoes. Honestly the flames in my chest own
my attention. I don’t know if they’re a result of my broken heart or the energy I just leeched out of Zack. I only leeched him twice but the energy I stole to pull those books, which must have weighed close to a ton, was enormous. And moving multiple objects at once is incredibly draining. It took Zack years to move more than one thing at a time with his mind. And with just the urge to do so I whipped almost five hundred books from their resting place. Not only do I worry that I need to expel this energy, but I also worry that I’ve exhausted Zack. I’ll never know if that’s true though…

  Since I electrocuted the TV station antenna Vider has had that antenna and the radio one reinforced against lightning. The team he had do it probably thought the President was worried about summer lightning storms and not a seventeen-year-old girl. Vider’s micromanagement of this Valley hasn’t been lost on me. Aside from access to records and data I’m not sure what kind of influence Zack hopes to have. Vider oversees everything in his Valley. As the only Dream Traveler here who doesn’t have their dream travel time regulated, Vider, I assume, uses that time to rule over every part of this town. Well, he’s the only one who dream travels freely besides me. Rogue used dream travel time to build a house. Vider uses his to corrupt a once democratic government.

  The streets are deserted. Not just because of the rain storm, which has thankfully backed off to a drizzle, but also because everyone in the Valley is invited to the wedding. Well, everyone but me. Fugitives aren’t usually on guest lists to these kinds of events.

  Since I can’t go after the TV station again, I decide to destroy the second biggest place where Vider churns out subliminal messages to the Valley. I’m relieved to find the lock to the Austin Valley News is quite simple. One that doesn’t even give me a sweat. I’m through the door and in the main warehouse within minutes. When I was in third grade my class toured the newspaper, which has been providing the Valley news for several decades. My memory from then is intact. I know to cut around the reporters’ station and that I’ll find the printing press and stores of newspapers in the warehouse off the eastern side. The newspaper station is as eerily quiet as the streets. I’m sure the newspaper hasn’t closed down completely in…well, maybe ever. Every reporter is at the wedding. But they will be buzzing back here soon to type up their articles about how lovely the bride was and how handsome—

  I cut off my thoughts, not wanting to make myself sick here. My anger does make me hasty, though, and I throw my hand out without a thought, allowing the surge of the power I stole from Zack to funnel out of me into a blast of dangerous electricity. I aim it at the thousands of boxes holding unprinted paper knowing they’ll make the fire burn fast and hot. But too much electricity shoots out of me at once. Too fast. I was right about the quantity of energy I leeched from Zack. It’s a deadly amount. The blast shoots me back. Wind whooshes by me in a quick rush. And then before my thoughts catch up, my back rams into something sharp and hard. I’m just about to stand up when something falls. My collision caused a shelf to tumble over and the objects rain down on me. Heavy, piercing objects. And I’m too slow to cover my head when a printer cartridge starts to slide from overhead. It’s about the size of a mailbox. And I notice that just as it careens down and slams onto my head. The scene before me turns fuzzy, and then hazy. My last sight is of the orange fire spreading in front of me. The last thing I remember is smoke and then my world goes dark.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A heat so hot I think I’ve been transported to the center of the sun wakes me. I blink my eyes open but the smoke burns too much. And in my strobe-like vision I know I can’t see much past the curtain of smoke anyway. The entire warehouse is on fire, the printing press engulfed in hot white and yellow flames. The blast pushed me to the far side of the warehouse but at the rate the fire is moving I won’t beat it to the exit. And the smoke. Coughs seize my chest. Barrel though my lungs. Make my eyes water uncontrollably.

  I reach for my duffel bag and to my relief find it still strapped to my shoulder. Without moving from my lying position I unzip the bag a few inches and dig inside until my fingers connect with fabric. I rip whatever garment it is out and tie it around my head, covering my mouth and nose at once. It does little to help the poisonous fumes I’m inhaling. Chemicals from the press waft in the air intermingling with the smoke, each fighting to be what kills me.

  Only when I roll over on my stomach do I see the small puddle of blood under me. My neck is drenched but that could be from the sweat pouring off me. I push up on all fours and that’s when I realize something is incredibly wrong with my back. A stabbing pain that paralyzes me sears from my shoulder. The scream that escapes my mouth can’t be heard over the crackling fire.

  Fire. I remember now, although I’m not sure how I’d forget with the walls melting around me. I move one hand and the opposite knee. The movement is enough to rip my life right out of me. Blood begins to drip off my head, leaving a trail. And my progress is too slow. The fire moving too fast. I flip my head up and just then an explosion rocks the concrete floor under me and sends fiery debris everywhere. I allow myself to fall to the ground but only half cover my head from the ash and sparks that singe my clothes and hair.

  I’m going to die here. I’ve all but killed myself. My anger got the better of me. My leeching power will burn me alive as Ren always warned. I push onto all fours but the attempt is useless. My back can’t support me. My head is swimming. I fall back on the concrete, my face colliding with the burning hot floor. I’m going to die. But it’s okay. I’m coming, Rogue. I’ll see you soon, Tutu.

  ***

  “Oh no you don’t, luv,” a voice says from the corner of my consciousness. “There will be no giving up for you, not just yet.” It’s Ren’s thick accented voice, but that makes no sense. I’m alone. Dying. This must be a final hallucination before I pass.

  A hand wrenches around my shoulder. I want to open my eyes. Want to hold my head up but my neck won’t support it. My head bobbles back and forth.

  “You’re not leaving me to deal with this mess all alone,” the voice says. My arm is draped around a shoulder and in one giant pull I’m yanked to my feet, although I remain hunched. “Now what do you say we make haste? This place is making me sweat.”

  I will my feet to move under me. I’m just aware enough to feel the blast of the heat of the fire as we near the exit. And then we’re through and suddenly the temperature drops and with it I drop to my knees too. “Oh, no you don’t,” he says with a determined growl. “On your feet at once.”

  Not having a blanket of smoke around me anymore, I open my eyes to see his red hair swim in front of me. This isn’t a hallucination. It’s real.

  “Ren?” I ask, confused.

  “That’s right, luv,” he says with a surprising grin. “I’m here to save the day. You’ll get a bill for it later, but for now what do you say we get the hell out of here? That warehouse won’t keep the fire at bay for long and I’m guessing the authorities will be on their way soon.”

  With a strength I didn’t know he possessed my uncle pulls me through the news station just as another explosion rocks the building. We duck as we head through the door and across the street. We don’t stop in the narrow alley, although my aching lungs need to rest.

  “I have to stop,” I say, my voice raw.

  “Not yet you don’t,” Ren says, flipping his head over his shoulder to ensure we’re not being followed. His steady breaths grow heavier with every step. And then finally he says, “A little farther now.”

  We round a corner. And then another before he lets go of me. Ren doesn’t try to help me stay standing when I slump and fall down against a brick wall. He does stare down at me from his standing position, exhaustion marking the features of his face. “That wasn’t very graceful, was it?”

  “My back,” I wheeze.

  “And you’re not the one looking at the bloody gash on your head,” he says, shivering with repulsion.

  With a shaking hand I reach up, but yank it away bef
ore it connects with the searing gash I feel in my head. “I need help.”

  “And I’m trying to get you to that ‘help,’” Ren says with a dramatic sigh. “You’re the one panting and asking for a break.”

  “I almost died,” I say, and then something so heartwarming it almost heals a bit of my pain takes over me. “But you saved me.”

  “Don’t make a big deal of it,” he says with a growl.

  “How?” I ask.

  “I saw smoke coming from the eastern side of the building,” he says, boredom in his tone. “I knew everyone was at the wedding. I put two and two together. Figured out you created the fire and when you didn’t come out of the building I realized right then you were going to spoil my night.”

  “Thanks,” I say dully.

  “You are most not welcome. I don’t like to make a habit of saving people, it creates all sorts of devoted-type behavior.”

  I try to sit up, but my back screams from the effort. “Don’t worry, if you’re dying I’ll let you,” I say, clenching my teeth from the pain.

  “You’re a kind soul, aren’t you?” Ren says and then offers me his manicured hand. “Come on, luv. Let’s get you to where you were off to before you almost killed yourself. The doctor won’t be happy to see you in this state.”

  I give him a questioning look. “You know I’m headed to Parker’s?”

  “I know a lot of things,” he says with a sneaky grimace. “Like that for instance, you’re bitter that Zack’s marrying your sister.”

  I hook my arm around Ren’s shoulder and allow him to manage some of my weight as we trudge down the alley.

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “When is everyone going to realize I see everything?” Ren says smugly. “Like I know you’re in love with the blond currently offering himself up to your sister. And she’s only your half-sister because your mother is naughty. And the blond is absolutely in love with you, but talk about tragic because this isn’t turning out well at all for either of you. But hey, you do have the nice Asian doctor who’s smitten with you.”