I cannot stop to think about what I have done, what I have left behind.
To have seen death, felt death, and to have been the bearer of it, all in such a short space of time . . . I cannot . . . I simply cannot allow myself to feel anything right now.
I turn my head back and catch a glimpse of the dimming light falling over the skyscrapers that don’t hold anyone anymore. It is hard to believe that they used to be filled with people, going about their days. It is hard to believe that all of those people are dead now, that they didn’t have families that grew up and got married and had kids.
Those whole families don’t exist anymore.
The marshes out here have a heat coming off them that I don’t think is natural. I would probably guess it is not. My throat begins to grieve for water as I pull in more and more air than I need.
I turn around and am stopped by a gun in my face.
My heart is in my throat and I can feel it pulsate where it is lodged.
It is one of the black-masked fighters, one of Blake and Caden’s soldiers.
I watch their head tilt to the side and then they walk off in that direction, obviously indicating that I should follow them.
My head spins around to check and see if anyone else is watching me, waiting to attack. I see no one, so even though I know it is a mistake, I follow.
I am led to the opening of a cave. The cave starts to get smaller and smaller and then it is almost like a hallway.
We come to a door; the stranger in front of me opens it and we walk through.
I pull off my makeshift burqa and see we are in a dimly lit room that looks strangely bare. Candles rest on high staffs around the room. The walls are made of the natural stone of the mountain we must be inside.
All right, what the hell is going on?
He removes his mask, but all I see are his eyes, looking completely devoid of all emotion, of any real awareness. It is like looking into someone else’s memories, staring at someone else’s soul. He readies the gun in his hand. I hear it cock, and my heart stops.
‘Hello, Mia,’ Caden says.
There is no hint of feeling in the way he speaks my name—that stupid nickname that reminds me of when I lived with Darria and my grandparents, when I was happy.
‘I hope you don’t expect me to greet you with “Hello, Father”.’
There is now a glimmer in those eyes.
‘You escaped?’ he asks.
I never expected him to be so stupid.
‘Obviously. What gave me away? Was it the running?’
A short spasm of laughter escapes his lips and then is stifled. All in a second, Caden takes a step towards me, spinning the gun around on his index finger as though offering it to me. I stare at the gun for a moment, and then return my gaze to him.
‘I wouldn’t try to shoot me if I were you, just as a hint.’ Caden speaks louder than a whisper, his face inches from mine.
I take the gun from his hand and my heart feels heavy with the weight of holding it. My feet carry me forward a few paces and then I turn back.
‘Why?’ I ask. He knows I am not asking why I shouldn’t shoot him.
Caden looks thoughtful for a moment, and then I see he is choosing his words. I know it because I do this myself when trying to find an appropriate lie.
‘How much has Darren told you?’
Caden obviously hasn’t gotten the memo that ‘Darren’ has a new name.
I shake my head. ‘Not a lot.’
Caden looks pleased. He must think this means he can spin whatever he wants, however he wants.
‘Your uncle really is a genius. I can’t deny him that,’ he offers. I don’t move to answer. It is as though Caden must pay Darria a compliment before he explains everything that is wrong with him.
‘We had an idea—’ I can tell by those four words that there is no way this thing stopped at just an idea. ‘For the next generation, your generation.’ Caden nods towards me. I wait for him to continue.
‘It all started with Abbie and Lawrence.’ Caden begins to pace as though he is so taken by the story that he can’t stand still and tell it.
‘They tried to conceive for so long.’ Caden stops and looks at me, his words sound sarcastic, as though he is trying to portray fake sorrow. ‘So Darren came up with a plan,’ Caden is back to his chipper, happy-go-lucky manner and his pacing. ‘He could help them get pregnant through this ancient practise of in-vitro fertilisation,’ he says it as though the word is something important, it doesn’t make any sense to me. ‘The process is basically the egg is fertilised outside of the womb,’ he looks at me—‘sounds disgusting I know. But what I thought is that we could change the make-up of these children. Of our children.’
The pieces are making their way together in my head, but I try not to get ahead of myself. Maybe I‘ve misunderstood.
‘I have done so many things for you.’ The way he says it, it sounds wrong, not like when Darria said those same words. ‘But this is by far the best.’
I feel the metal of the gun in my hand, feel the race in my heart to use it. The regret of using one just hours ago, maybe having to use one again.
‘What did you do, exactly?’
An all-consuming rage overcomes me; it is all I can do to keep it from showing on my face. There is only one way to keep my rage at bay, and that is to think of Chase. To think of the way he used to look at me, the way he used to smile, the way it would consume him in joy, the way he will never smile again. Tears well in my eyes and I try to push them back but they just make my throat hurt.
Caden’s smile is so deranged it is terrifying.
‘That’s the thing, the possibilities are endless.’
Caden doesn’t change. His face never changes.
‘At the moment we have seen an increase in movement when the hearing sense is dimmed, as well as an amazing agility and aim with weapons. But there could be millions of things we are yet to discover about you all.’ I think back to Nate. That was what he did, that day with the stun guns.
‘All?’ I ask. Caden’s smile doesn’t falter still. He stops pacing and stands right in front of me.
‘Rence was the first child born, then Nate, then Abbie went back for a second round to have Chase. Even though she’d seen Nate’s mother die.’ He speaks about Chase’s mother like she is an idiot and I feel my rage biting at me again. ‘Then of course there was you.’
I have hated my mother every moment of every day since before I can remember, because of him, and now he is standing before me, having the conversation I was supposed to have with Darria, and he thinks it will make me what? Join him? This man I do not know, who has screwed up my life, and the lives of my mother, my uncle and a whole lot of other people’s families. He wants me to join him in his delusions, in his fantasy where he thinks he can run the free world with a whole bunch of freak kids with weird heightened senses and better aim. What. An. Idiot.
‘Hermia.’ Caden pulls me out of my own head and I look up to him, hating him for the fear he instilled in me my whole life, for making me the way I am. He messed me up beyond repair without even saying a word to me.
He is still speaking; I try to recall the words as my feet start to move. I am moving away from him, from everything; I recall that he spoke simply. ‘You’ve got some growing up to do.’
Epilogue
Darria
I watch the world with open eyes and a closed mind. The people around me are always filled with tension, and I can feel it constantly.
Worried, I am worried.
How could they both slip away from me so easily, how could I let this happen?
I sit in my office; the feeling of the polished wood of the walls is a comfort, reminding me of my parents’ house, the one I grew up in.
Law is by my side, where he belongs. There are more keepers around, intent on answers I will never give them. They are leaving by the day, my followers do not follow me anymore. Not now that the power I borrowed from Collins is gone.
>
‘The boy, how is he?’
Law’s eyes flicker to mine for an instant before he looks away, his face still covered in the shame of his son. ‘Stable, sir.’
I feel myself nod in agreement.
‘And the girl?’
Again Law gives a surprised glance.
‘Escaped, sir.’
Of course I know Mia has escaped—I just needed Law to say it. To acknowledge that she outsmarted him. I am just glad that she hasn’t run away with the knowledge I have always been terrified to give her. That I orchestrated the changing of her genetic make-up, making her a new and uncharted species, if you will. I have ruined her, and I can’t let her know that, not when she already hates me more than I would like. She would never forgive me if she knew.
‘What is it we are to do now?’ Law speaks slowly, cautiously. ‘Now we have lost our advantage?’
His comment almost angers me, since his sons are the cause of all this trouble.
‘Do you know why I need you, Lawrence, my second-in-command?’ Law opens his mouth to answer but my words are faster.
‘Because if a bullet is flying towards me, you can jump in front of it.’
Law is disposable, and there is another to replace him. Rence is unstable, but he is a replacement none the less. Rence can be fixed, made whole. I may not have the funding Collins was feeding me, but I can still make this serum happen, I can still reverse what I have done.
‘But you see,’ I continue. ‘If you fail to take that bullet for me, it is you who will take my place.’
I let him ponder this a moment, just to make it seem as though I see my own death as an actual possibility.
‘Quite the reward for selfish behaviour.’
Law looks at me with his blank eyes. He is far too much like a brainless child sometimes. He is older than me, which makes it worse. Law is my oldest and dearest friend; he has stuck by me even when I was responsible for his wife’s death. I really shouldn’t be so unkind to him, but I am upset.
‘There is only one thing we can do now,’ I sigh. ‘Regain our advantage.’
The realisation is yet to hit him. I consider literally hitting him to get the thought across just that little bit faster. Then I think better of it.
‘What does that mean, sir?’
I do not raise my voice, indeed I almost lower it.
‘It means you’d better goddamn find her.’
Acknowledgements
So this is where I am meant to acknowledge those who assisted in bringing Enmity to fruition?
I’m sorry but there is not enough ink, nor paper, to write down every person who has helped with this book, and so many of them are nameless. Whether it is a stranger in the street who has the same eyes as Nate, or the way a building’s architecture reminds me of the ruins that my characters call home; these are the things that make my mind wander into a distant world where everything is a shadow of this one I know so well. And although I do not know the name of the engineer who was in charge of taking that architect’s design and making it a reality, I am grateful to both, because they have made both of my worlds what they are.
So instead, I will thank the following:
Lawrence Andrews—For teaching me about guns; how to aim, how to shoot, how they work. And the way a gunshot looks through the linoleum and wood of our kitchen floor. You are more than an amazing father, you are an amazing man.
Jane Andrews—For reading to me and passing down your love of books; my imagination comes from you and I am forever grateful. I hope Enmity doesn’t disappoint, given its lack of dragons.
Susan Andrews & Phil Cooper—I am eternally in your debt. You convinced me to make the biggest change I have ever made in my life, and it was best thing I ever did. I love you both.
Sue Brockhoff—You are my saviour. I cannot thank you enough for the tough decision you had to make. This novel is so much the better for having you.
Elizabeth Cowell, Stephanie Smith and Annabel Blay—Thank you all for your amazing editing skills and your kind comments on Enmity. You took a confusing, muddled manuscript at different times and made it into a better story than I ever imagined it could be.
Lilia Kanna and the whole Harlequin team—Lilia, you are the bearer of amazing emails and the timekeeper to the author side to my life. To the Harlequin team, you are all such an amazing literary force! The work you do astounds me and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to handle Enmity. Thank you for everything.
Haylee Nash—No number of thank yous can do justice to the amount you deserve. You took such a big chance on an unqualified, unpublished, amateur author. Thank you for having such faith in me and my work.
Kylea Jones & Lydia Russell—My two best friends in the entire world. Thank you for seeing the worst parts of me and loving me regardless. I would not be the person I am without either of you.
Graeme Robert Fleming—The feelings were so easy to write because I live them every day with you. Love is just a word, but with you it is reality.
And finally, to you, my humble reader. Without whom Enmity is nothing but letters on a page. Thank you for choosing to bring those words to life.
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ISBN: 9781488720826
Title: Enmity
First Australian Publication 2011
Copyright © 2013 by E.J. Andrews
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Harlequin Mills & Boon®, Level 4, 132 Arthur St, North Sydney, NSW, Australia 2060.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its corporate affiliates and used by others under licence. Trademarks marked with an ® are registered in Australia and in other countries. Contact [email protected] for details.
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Enmity Page 24
