Triaten stood up and disappeared. Aiden could hear his footsteps going up the stairs to the loft. They stopped for a moment, then trailed back down the stairs. He came back to Aiden and stood over him for a moment. Aiden closed his eyes to Triaten’s assessment.
Triaten bent, grabbing Aiden’s arm and shoulder, and pulled him to a sitting position. It hurt, but it also felt good. Felt real.
Triaten went back on his knee in front of him, eyes narrowed, still looking for an answer. “What is going on here, Aiden?”
“Did you check on her? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine.” Triaten waved a hand. “Sleeping. It’s you I’m worried about. Was someone here? Who did this to you? And why did you and Skye disappear?”
Hell. Aiden had completely forgotten he hadn’t told anyone, not even Triaten, what had happened with Shiv. What had happened to Skye.
Where to begin?
First thing. “Shiv’s alive,” Aiden said.
“What? What the fuck are you talking about? Shiv’s alive?”
Aiden nodded as much on the cut on his neck would allow. “She’s alive, and she’s Malefic.”
“Shit. She did this to you?”
Aiden closed his eyes. Now worst thing. “No. Shiv didn’t do this. Skye did. The Malefic in her. It’s out.”
“Holy hell.” Triaten reeled with the news. “Skye did this to you? All of it?”
His eyes flew across Aiden’s body. “Aiden there have to be over a hundred wounds I can see right now.” He started to stand. “She can’t—”
Aiden used every ounce of strength he had to clamp down on Triaten’s arm, stopping his movement. “No. Don’t you dare go near her. She never wanted to do this. I made her. And we haven’t been able to stop. She needs this.”
Triaten glared at him, and then relented. Instead of moving to Skye, he threw an arm around Aiden’s back, dragged him to his feet, and shuffled him to the worn leather couch. He dropped Aiden into a sitting position and then stepped back, arms crossed over his chest.
“Tell me.”
Aiden sighed. “The Malefics—you’ve seen it—you know how they are when they draw blood?”
“The hyper-state?”
“Yep. Best Skye can describe it, it’s something that invades her blood. Raw, horrible pleasure, she said. It hits, and then it subsides.”
“So why the hell are you all cut up?” Aiden wasn’t getting to answers soon enough for Triaten.
“It’s a drug. Her body craves it. Demands it. She’s tried to leave three times trying to get to it. To go to hurt somebody.”
“She drove off?”
“No, she walked off.”
“In the snow? There’s nothing for fifty miles in any direction, save Rudy. Really? In the snow?”
Aiden nodded, completely defeated.
Triaten whistled low, scratching the back of his head. “So she’s been cutting you instead?” He looked up at the loft where Skye slept.
“Yes. And somewhere along the way I lost control. I thought I could control it. I thought she could learn to control it. Instead, it took both of us over. How long has it been since we’ve been gone? Two weeks?”
Triaten’s gaze swung sharply back to Aiden. “Do you not know it’s been two months since you left the mountain with Shiv’s body?”
“What? Sixty days?” Aiden’s head fell back, resting on the top of the couch. “Hell. How did you find us?”
“Rudy called the elders after his last drop-off to you a few days ago.”
“He did?”
Triaten shrugged. “He knows who he sends his invoice to. Anyway, Edmund told me. He’s mostly poking about, wanting to know what’s up with Skye.”
“Damn.” Aiden whispered to the ceiling. He didn’t have the strength to lift his head off the couch.
“They’re all interested because of the random time shifts that have been happening.”
Alarm was in Aiden’s voice. “Time shifts? What time shifts?” Aiden paused, blinking at the ceiling. “Oh shit, she’s been flipping back time, hasn’t she?”
“Like I said, they’ve been random, five minutes here and there. But enough to make all of us wonder where the hell you two were and what you were up to.”
Head not moving, Aiden’s eyes shifted to Triaten. “Hell, Tri, I don’t even remember them.”
And that was all it took for Triaten to realize how fucked Aiden was. So now he was calling Charlotte.
Aiden couldn’t move his limbs, much less get up to stop him.
Triaten turned away to ignore him once Charlotte answered. “Char. We need you up here. Right now—take a chopper. I’ll clear a landing spot.”
There was a pause.
“See you soon.”
~~~
The scolding hadn’t stopped since Charlotte arrived. It had started off as muttering under her breath when she first walked in. Aiden could only guess Triaten had filled her in on the situation when he went out to meet the helicopter.
Her muttering grew louder and more pointed with every wound she healed on his body. Skye was still sleeping up in the loft. She had slept right through the noise of the chopper. Aiden vaguely recalled that it was getting harder and harder to wake her after a cut and a high.
But even if Charlotte’s scolding was with just cause, he hated hearing it.
“Why didn’t you call us?” She asked for the fiftieth time, kneeling in front of him on the couch as her red glowing hands pressed into the muscle along his left shin. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. Look at you. This is going to take another hour.”
Aiden let her go on for another ten minutes, hoping she would get it out of her system. She was mad. He got that. He was pretty pissed off at himself too. But as she healed him, his strength returned, along with his pride.
She shook her head in disgust as she moved to his thigh. “The whole frickin' world is falling apart and Skye is here getting Malefic high. And you’re helping her.”
That was it. He had enough. “Charlotte, stop.” His voice hit low, hard.
She looked up at him, impatient, red hands still in place over a particularly gnarly tear in his skin.
“Skye can’t help it. And I asked her to do this to me. She takes no blame in this.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to argue, but then Triaten coughed from the kitchen. Her eyes went to him. With a scowl, she closed her mouth and her eyes went down, shaking her head to herself.
It only took two minutes before she looked up again, eyes aimed over Aiden’s shoulder at Triaten. “No, Tri, I don’t care if you’re coughing at me in there. Aiden needs to hear this.”
Her blue eyes swung to him. “You’re making excuses for her, Aiden. Making excuses for yourself, and that’s exactly why you’re in this mess. You are better than this. Skye is better than this.”
She glanced down at the spot she was healing, and satisfied, lifted her hands. Then she grasped Aiden’s knees, solely for emphasis. “Whatever is happening in Skye’s body, she needs to learn how to control it. Not feed it. Which was the crazy-ass idea you had. So no. I’m not going to shut up about it. I’m going to finish healing you. And then we’re going to figure something out. Something not dumb, like what you were doing.”
Aiden clamped down on his anger. He wanted to toss her out of the cabin. But he couldn’t—one, he still didn’t have the strength, and two, she was right. He was stupid. He just didn’t like hearing it.
Triaten came into the room, handing Aiden a tall glass of water, and set another one on the side table for Charlotte. “Boy, Char. Tell him how you really feel.”
She shot him a look. “Am I wrong?”
He smiled, not fazed by her ire as he sat down on a leather side chair. “No, I just thought we were going to be a bit more delicate about this.”
“Do we have time for delicacy?” she asked.
Triaten shrugged, but remained silent.
Aiden took a sip of the water. He looked from one to the other as Charlotte pushed his ar
m up over his head and started in on the gashes along his ribcage.
“Alright, what’s going on? You said something about the world falling apart, didn’t you, Char?”
Charlotte glanced at Triaten. “Okay, Mr. Delicate. You fill him in.”
Triaten raised his eyebrows at Aiden. “You ready for this?”
“Shoot.”
“There have been more Malefic attacks.”
“Shit. Where?”
“More in deep Africa, a few in the middle east. Two of the sites had significant losses.”
“How significant?”
“About eight-thousand at each. It’s a clear message. They’re telling us that they’re going to keep coming.”
“And? I can tell by your face you’re hedging,” Aiden said.
Triaten leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “And two tsunamis.”
Aiden’s head fell back to the top of the couch. “Not natural?”
“We don’t think. But the power of them was more than we have ever seen. So we have a go-date for going in on the Folotto compound.”
Aiden’s head jerked up. “You’re attacking the brother’s compound? When?”
“Three days from now.”
“The elders still think they’re behind this?”
“They do. They think we can wipe out this entire surge at the source—in one swoop on the compound. The three brothers are all projected to be there together, in three days.”
Aiden’s eyebrow pulled up as he contemplated the wisdom of that thought. “How are the elders—what with Horace being back?”
“Bad…Fine.” Triaten sighed. “Horace is back in the fold, per usual. I gave the elders enough possibilities of where Horace was after the last attacks, so they wouldn’t be able to openly question him about it. But they’re a mess. Trust amongst them is in shreds. Alliances and whispered allegations are rampant right now. Layer the fire on our mountain, with the current Malefic threat, on top of the flame moon cycle, and it’s a shit show. None of them are going to be happy until we make some progress—progress like wiping out the Folotto juggernaut.”
“Done.” Charlotte patted Aiden’s chest, gave a huge exhale, and rocked back on her heels. She stood up slowly, stretching her legs.
Triaten got up and stood next to Charlotte, sliding an arm around her shoulders. He rubbed her arm. “Tired?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine, for the moment.”
With a nod, he turned his attention back to Aiden. “So I’ve been pondering this situation since I got here.”
“You have?” Aiden’s look turned suspicious.
“Yes. And I think you should come with me on the mission.”
“No. I’m not leaving her.”
“Aiden, this is going to help her more than anything,” Triaten reasoned. “Do you think the Folotto’s have forgotten you killed six of their own—four that didn’t survive the time shift? They’re still on the hunt for you. That’s how we got a lead on where the Malefics are converging.”
“I’m not leaving her.”
“Aiden, please, think about it,” Charlotte said. “I was planning on going with on the mission, but you instead of me would be a hundred times more useful. I will stay here with Skye. She’s not going to hurt anybody here, and no one is going to find us in the few days you’ll be gone. And if somebody does, well, you know I know this camp better than anyone. There are hundreds of places to hide and I know all of them. We’ll be safe.”
“I’m not leaving her.”
“You need to.” All three sets of eyes flew to the loft stairs when Skye spoke up.
Aiden jumped to his feet.
“Aiden, they’re right. You need to go,” Skye said.
Aiden went to her as she came down the stairs.
“Skye, I’m not leaving you here. Not in this state.”
She stopped at the base of the stairs, looking up at him. “No. They’re right. We can’t keep doing this. You need to go.” She grabbed his arm. “If you stay here, we are going to do it again. And again. You know that. We’ve already proven it too many times. I am too weak. And you…” Her voice caught, and she moved her hand to cup his jaw. “You love me too much. You need to go.”
Aiden’s hands went around her neck. “You need me.”
Skye closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, a resolve Aiden hadn’t seen in ages was shimmering in the green. “No. I need you to go. I can do this for a few days. I swear I can. A few days. I’ll be fine. I can make it that long. And it can only help.”
Aiden stared at his wife, his jaw flexing repeatedly as his head and heart warred.
Finally, he tore his gaze from her, and looked at Triaten. “Is it too late to get the chopper back?”
{ Chapter 7 }
She hit her from behind.
Charlotte was sitting on the couch, silently watching the evening fire, contemplating the mess she had in the bed upstairs. It had been two days since Triaten and Aiden had left.
Skye had been okay for most of day one. Quiet. Didn’t want to talk. She withdrew to the loft several times to sleep. It was after supper when the shaking started. Skye’s hands suddenly went from calm, to shaking so violently she couldn’t hold the mug of tea in her fingers.
Charlotte could see the embarrassment in Skye’s face, and let her excuse herself to the loft without argument. In the middle of the night, terrorized screams burst through the cabin twice. And when Charlotte checked on her, she found Skye curled into a tight ball, shivering, fighting whatever demons she was wrestling with. Both times, Skye insisted Charlotte leave her alone.
Early the next day, Charlotte nailed the window in the bathroom shut. Aiden had warned her about Skye sneaking out through there, and Charlotte didn’t particularly want to have to track Skye in the bitter cold. She would, if need be, but it would be a bitch to have to carry her back to the cabin.
Skye made it down from the loft once that day, but only for ten minutes when she disappeared into the bathroom. Charlotte heard the shower running, so kept a wary eye on the land outside the back window, just in case. But the water soon turned off, and Skye came out, heading straight back to the loft. She didn’t look wet. Just sweaty.
Charlotte couldn’t get her to eat. And Skye was becoming increasingly belligerent. On the first day, Skye would just say, “Leave me alone.”
The second day, Charlotte was greeted with the swearing. It started out with, “Leave me the fuck alone.”
But then the anger had grown, and was increasingly aimed at Charlotte. The swearing progressed to, “Who the fuck do you fucking think you fucking are? This fucked-up shit-hole you’re keeping me the fuck in. Fuck you, you fucking bitch.”
Charlotte had never heard so many f-bombs stuffed into tiny sentences, and had no idea Skye possessed the ridiculous ability to do it. It would have been comical, had Charlotte not seen how much pain Skye was in.
At that point, Charlotte stopped going up into the loft, and hadn’t bothered to offer Skye supper, knowing what the response would be.
It had been three hours since she last checked on her, and Skye was sleeping. Thrashing in the bed, but sleeping.
So Charlotte was not on guard when it happened.
The thick chunk of metal—iron—smashed into Charlotte’s head from behind, sending her flailing off the couch. She landed in front of the fireplace, face down.
When Charlotte got her bearings enough to turn her head upward, Skye was standing over her, iron frying pan in hand.
Tears were streaming down Skye’s face. “Just let me knock you out. Please.”
Charlotte put up a hand to stop her. “Skye, stop.”
“Charlotte, please, just let me knock you out. It’ll be so much easier.”
Without waiting for a reply, Skye swung.
~~~
Consciousness hit Charlotte, but she froze her body, froze her eyes closed. She wasn’t sure what she was going to find when she opened them,
and she didn’t want to get hit with a frying pan again. She had to get her mind working and ready, first.
She laid there, taking in all the senses she could without opening her eyes. How long had she been out? Hours? A day? She had no idea. But her dry mouth told her it had been longer than just a few minutes.
Charlotte couldn’t hear anything—wait—the fire was still crackling. That was what she smelled. Nothing other than that. She was laying on her side on something soft. The bed? The couch? She moved a pinkie. Leather. That meant the couch.
Cracking one eye open, she looked out the sliver, assessing everything in range. No movement, no Skye as far as she could see. Cautiously, she opened both eyes. No one. She slowly turned her head up to the ceiling of logs. The light told her it was daytime.
Mind straight, and no frying pan ominously above her head, Charlotte sat up, and almost fell back over from the dizziness that slammed her. Her hand went to her head, holding herself upright against the spinning. And then she noticed why she was so light-headed. Up and down her arm were slashes, and a lot of blood pooling and drying.
“Hell, Skye,” she muttered to herself.
She looked around the common area and back past the dining table into the kitchen. The bathroom door was open. No Skye—so either outside or in the loft.
Charlotte wasted no time in what she did next. She slid along the couch, and picked up her phone from the side table. She noted the date when she turned it on—she’d only been out for the night.
She dialed as quickly as possible. Ringing, and then an answer.
“Helen, it’s Charlotte. I need your help.”
~~~
Molten lava bubbled at Triaten’s black boots. And as hard as Aiden pulled on his wrist, he couldn’t get Triaten to move. Triaten still stretched out in the opposite direction, still reached for a warrior that was being consumed from the feet up by fiery lava.
“We can’t do anything for them—we need to go now.” Aiden yelled over the sounds of the helicopter’s blades, the firestorm destroying the valley, and the exploding earth that still shot rock and ash into the sky.
Black ash blanketed them, and the chopper was already several feet off the ground behind Aiden. The flat rock where it had landed was now awash in the glowing lava—black chunks of earth swallowed by the scorching bubbles, which still tore down the mountain at terrifying speed.
Flux Flame (A Flame Moon Novel Page 6
