by S. J. West
Langdon nodded. “Yes, very much.”
“What do you think her reaction would be if she knew what you’re doing?”
“She probably wouldn’t approve,” Langdon replied, not showing an ounce of shame at my attempt to shame him. “But you’re not her,” he reminded me, “just a cheap replacement for a time.”
“Well, we don’t want to disturb your enjoyment of the party,” Ian said hastily. “Good luck in the tournament tomorrow, Langdon.”
Ian hustled me off in the opposite direction.
Once we were out of Langdon’s hearing range, Ian turned on me.
“What the hell were you thinking?” The anger in his voice briefly startled me before bringing my own anger to the surface.
“I don’t see any reason to make nice with these people,” I shot back. “They’re paying to take away my virginity—one of the few things I thought I would be able to share with someone I loved one day. Why should I be nice to them?”
“Because one of them might actually win,” Ian replied. “Of the people competing, Langdon is one of the nicer ones. You don’t want to know what some of the others might do to you in a month’s time.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, apprehension creeping along my spine with ice cold fingers.
“Not all of the Harvesters here got their moral compass back because of the virus. Most of them are as cold-hearted as the day they were converted. Think of the worst things that can happen to you without actually killing you. That’s what some of them might do. Don’t make the ones like Langdon decide to back out of the tournament. He’s a hell of a lot better than some of your other alternatives.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “Why do you care who I end up with?”
Ian stared at me for a long moment as though he were trying to answer that same question for himself. Finally he admitted, “I don’t know.”
“Did you mean what you said to Jace this afternoon?”
“What did I say?”
“That you would fight to have me if it comes down to the two of you?”
“Yeah, I meant it.”
“Why? What exactly do you plan to do with me if you win?”
A roguish grin illuminated Ian’s face. “I’m not really sure. What if I tried to woo you into my bed?”
I almost laughed. “Woo me? I’m surprised ‘woo’ is even in your vocabulary.”
“Don’t discount me so quickly. I can be pretty charming when I want to be. I’ve never had a problem with the ladies.”
“I’m sure you haven’t,” I admitted.
There was no denying Ian was handsome and maybe in another life I would have found his proposal of wooing me exciting. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, and Ian was certainly not my Prince Charming.
“So, how is everything going?”
Ian and I both turned toward Freddy as he came to stand next to us.
“Just fine,” Ian said, a strained grin on his face.
“Good, good,” Freddy nodded, rubbing his hands together like a miser anticipating his next windfall of money at any moment. “Just make sure she meets the people I told you about.”
“I am,” Ian replied, annoyed at the unnecessary reminder.
“Freddy!”
The angry shout of Freddy’s name came out of nowhere. All heads turned to the second floor balcony at the back of Freddy’s home. There, stood the man I had first seen fighting Freddy right outside of Meg’s house when I first arrived in Alliance, Gabe. He stood there holding a pistol aimed straight at Freddy. Before I knew what was happening, Freddy grabbed me by the shoulders propelling me in front of him like a shield, just as I heard the first shot ring through the air. I felt the first bullet tear straight through my shoulder and a second one pierce the center of my chest. I fell back against Freddy who was still holding me but also falling to the ground. I closed my eyes, knowing I was about to die but not caring enough to try and fight back the wash of black enveloping my world.
In a matter of seconds, I felt a pair of strong arms lift me up.
“Skye!” I heard Jace scream. “Don’t you die on me,” he ordered. “Don’t you dare die on me!”
I opened my eyes as wide as I could and saw Jace’s tear-streaked face close to mine. The look of grief and loss in his eyes told me the wounds were as bad as I thought. I could feel the beats of my heart slow as it lay in a shattered waste within my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, fully expecting my world to come to an end at any second.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I prayed I would pass out so my mind would become oblivious to the pain emanating from the wound in my chest, but unfortunately I didn’t. The world around me became a chaotic blur of motion and panicked voices my mind was having trouble filtering through. I laid my head against Jace’s shoulder, thankful to have him as my constant in the turmoil surrounding me.
“Come on!” I heard Ian yell to Jace. “Let’s get her the hell out of here!”
With me securely cradled in his arms, Jace followed Ian inside Freddy’s house with a quick, urgent pace. Ian took us to a room on the second floor. In the back of my mind, I was worried about Gabe still being in the house, armed with the pistol, but I couldn’t find the strength to voice my concern over our safety. The pain in my chest was swiftly fading to numbness, and my hands felt like slabs of ice.
It couldn’t be a good sign.
Jace laid me down on something soft. I couldn’t keep my eyes focused long enough to see where we were exactly. Only Jace’s tear-streaked face and blood-stained shirt remained in focus.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again, feeling guilt over leaving him alone to face living in such a hell hole without at least one person on his side.
Jace angrily wiped at the tears on his face. He looked at me with fierce determination as he placed his hands on either side of my head to make sure I heard what he had to say.
“Now, you listen to me,” he said. “You’re not supposed to die yet. It’s not your time. You have too much to do.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “You know those memories I said I had of you, of us?”
I could only nod weakly.
“I finally figured out where they come from.” His eyes searched mine as though he were making sure I was listening to his every word. “They’re not memories from some imagined past like you thought, Skye. They’re moments of the future, our future.”
I shook my head from side to side slowly, totally confused by what Jace was trying to tell me. Had I lost so much blood I was starting to hallucinate? Was Jace really trying to tell me he could see into the future?
“I know it sounds crazy and impossible,” he admitted, obviously seeing the doubt on my face. “I just figured it out myself this morning when I saw you in the wedding dress. I don’t know why I have visions of your future, but I do, and I know you don’t die like this.” He took in a deep breath before saying, “You have to heal yourself.”
I shook my head from side to side, feeling sure I had misunderstood what Jace said.
“You have to heal yourself,” he said again more adamantly. “You’re a healer, Skye. If you can do it in the future, you can do it now. It took me a while to understand what I was seeing you do in my visions, but that’s the only explanation for the things I’ve seen you do. It’s just like the way Zoe was able to protect us with her shield. Maybe it has something to do with the nanites inside your bodies, I don’t know. But I do know you can heal yourself.”
“How?” I asked desperately.
Jace shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to tell you to do it. But you’ve got to figure it out.” Jace’s eyes dropped to my wounded chest before looking back up at me again. “Damn it, Skye, I’m not supposed to lose you yet. I won’t. I have no future if I don’t have you.”
I closed my eyes, unable to look at Jace’s earnest face anymore. He was making me feel even more guilt over my impending death.
What he was asking
me to do sounded crazy and impossible. How did he expect me to know how to heal myself? What exactly was I supposed to do?
A picture of Blue lying motionless on the floor of the library flashed in my mind. When I had examined him, I had been certain the Harvester broke his back. I could remember hugging Blue tightly and willing him to be whole again. Had the miracle I thought he received been me? Had I actually been the one to heal Blue of his wounds? Could it be that easy? Did I just need to will myself whole?
But death’s call was at the tips of my fingers, reaching out to envelop me in his arms. All I had to do was let go of life and drift off to whatever realm of consciousness awaits us in the afterlife. Complete peace was at my beck and call, all I had to do was let go of the pain. It would be so easy to just close my eyes and let my mind and body drift off to what might be a better place than what we humans had made the living world into.
I forced myself to open my eyes and look at Jace.
The love he held for me was so naked on his face it made my ravaged heart ache even more. The future he was so sure we would have together was written in the desperation of his eyes. How could a man who barely knew me seem to love me with every fiber of his being? It was his unquestionable love more than anything else that made me want to fight back death. Whether my future included me falling in love with Jace or not, I had no way of knowing. But I wanted a chance to figure out my own feelings for him, make my own choices, and discover what the future had in store for me, for us…
I didn’t want to die, not yet.
I closed my eyes again and concentrated my thoughts on my wounds, willing my body to find a way to heal itself, to give me a second chance at life. A warm sensation gradually crept over my body, chasing away death’s cold, tight grasp around my soul. Slowly, feeling returned to my hands and feet causing them to tingle as they were reawakened. I felt what blood I had left rush through my body like lava erupting from the inner core of a sleeping volcano. The liquid of life traveled through my veins as though it had a mind of its own. The slow beats of my heart began to gain strength until I could feel the muscle knit itself together and pound inside my chest like a hammer striking a nail. My skin started to itch where the bullets had punctured it on my chest and shoulder. My body felt like it was encased in flames. I heard myself scream and felt Jace take both of my hands into his own. His touch was so cool against my skin, I yearned to wrap my entire body around his to extinguish my pain.
Spent of energy, I lay on the bed, faintly hearing myself whimper like a child. Jace’s cool lips soothed my scalding face with light, fleeting kisses.
“You did it,” he whispered to me, profound relief and tearful emotion heavy in his voice. “I knew you could. I knew you could do it.”
Slowly, I opened my eyes and gazed at the man beside me.
He must have felt me staring at him because he stopped kissing me. His face hovered over mine with an expectant look, waiting for me to tell him what I wanted from him. I knew all I had to do was ask and Jace would try to hand me the world in the palm of his hand, never questioning why I wanted it or what I would do with it. It was the first time in my life I felt truly wanted. Not wanted as a friend, like I had always felt with Ash, but wanted as a woman.
Without thinking, I reached up and cradled my hands against Jace’s smooth shaved cheeks, bringing his head down to mine until our lips touched.
It was like the meeting of fire and ice. Jace’s lips melted against mine in a languid pool of soft flesh, gently kissing my lips as though they were as fragile as the petals of a flower, afraid he might crush them if he pressed too hard. I became lost in him, shutting the world around us out and never wanting the kiss to end. I knew this kiss would change things between us from this moment on. The thought both frightened and excited me.
The sound of a throat being cleared sliced through the moment like a knife. Jace reluctantly pulled his lips away from mine as my hands lowered back to my sides. His lips curved into a contented smile as he stared into my eyes. Hope for the future seemed to light his eyes and make me shiver with expectation. He forced his eyes to leave my face to give Ian his full attention. Until then, I had forgotten Ian was still even in the room.
“Excuse me for interrupting,” he said with a slant of sarcasm. “But what the hell just happened?” Ian came to stand closer to us, examining the places where my wounds had been and finding no visible trace of them anymore. “I mean, I heard what you said to make her heal herself, but how the hell are we going to explain this to Freddy?”
I struggled to sit up, still feeling weakened by what I had just been through. Jace helped me to an upright position, placing pillows behind my back against the headboard of the bed I found myself in.
“Maybe we can tell him the bullets didn’t do as much damage as he thought,” I said. “We can just put some bandages on the spots where I should be hurt to cover up the truth.”
“That’s not going to work,” Jace told me with a worried look on his face. “The bullet that went through your shoulder went straight through you and into Freddy’s arm.”
“Besides,” Ian said, “he saw the damage that second bullet did to your chest. Hell it hit you so hard it knocked you and Freddy to the ground.”
“Can you help us escape?” Jace asked, his voice on the verge of pleading.
“If I could help you, I’d have already helped myself a long time ago,” Ian answered, reminding us both that he was as much a prisoner in Alliance as we were.
Before we could formulate a plan, Freddy barged into the room, practically knocking the door off its hinges as it slammed against the wall.
“What the hell are you?” he asked from the doorway, staring at me with wide, half-crazed eyes, breathing heavily. He slammed the door shut behind him, rattling the windows in the room. He stood there, continuing to stare at me in disbelief.
I was speechless. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Luckily for me, Ian took the lead.
“What’s wrong, Freddy? You get your wound tended to?”
Freddy drug his eyes away from my face, forcing himself to look at Ian. He rushed to Ian’s side with a determined stride, holding his blood-splattered shirt open to the site where the wound on his shoulder should have been.
“It vanished,” Freddy told him. “It healed up like I was a Harvester again.”
Freddy looked down at me impatiently, waiting for an explanation for his miraculous recovery.
“I don’t have an answer for you,” I answered truthfully.
How had Freddy’s wound healed on its own? Didn’t I have to think about healing someone to make it happen? It didn’t appear that way in Freddy’s case.
“You were shot twice,” he said in an accusatory voice as his eyes dropped to my chest where the most severe wound should have been, “and now look at you. You have to know something! What the hell are you?”
Jace stood from the bed, placing his body like a barricade between Freddy and me.
“She doesn’t know anything,” Jace told Freddy.
Freddy looked from Jace to me, shaking his head. “You don’t understand. I don’t think it was just the wound that was healed.”
Freddy walked closer to the bed and picked up a glass vase holding a silk arrangement of red roses and white lilies from the bedside nightstand. Tossing the flowers to the floor, he slammed the vase against the corner of the nightstand, breaking it apart and picking up the largest shard from the carpeted floor. With one swipe, Freddy sliced open a gash on the palm of his free hand. Blood pooled out from the cut. Freddy dropped the glass shard and wiped away the blood from his injured palm onto one of his pant legs.
With tears of joy and a look of complete rapture, Freddy held up his hand for all of us to see.
It was healed.
Freddy began to laugh. It was about as pleasant as hearing someone drag their nails slowly across a chalkboard.
“Do you understand what this means? She can heal us Ian,” Freddy said, holding up his hand pal
m forward to Ian as proof of his words. “She can bloody damn well heal us!”
Ian looked startled, but didn’t seem to find the same joy Freddy did in the revelation.
“It doesn’t mean she cured you of the virus,” Ian replied, trying to reason with Freddy.
But Freddy wasn’t listening. “It has to be in her blood,” he said more to himself than to any of us. “The first bullet went straight through her into me. It has to be her blood.”
When Freddy looked at me, my body quaked. The greed and excitement I saw in his eyes frightened me. If he could have drained me of all my blood in that moment, I think he would have.
“Just imagine what the Queen herself would pay for someone like you. I need to speak with her immediately.”
Freddy turned to leave but was stopped cold by Ian’s next words.
“Don’t you think you should test your theory out first before you get the Queen’s hopes up? She didn’t lead a rebellion against the humans because she has a sunny disposition.”
Freddy turned to Ian.
“If you’re wrong, she will make your life a living hell, Freddy. You better make sure you’re right first.”
You could almost see the gears of Freddy’s greedy little mind turning where he stood.
Finally, he nodded his head, self-preservation kicking in.
“You’re right. I need to make sure her blood is the cure. We can take her to Julia. She should be able to run some tests and give us some proof to show to the Queen.”
“We’ll still need to go through with the tournament tomorrow,” Ian reminded him. “We don’t want everyone in town to become suspicious. You’ve hyped your little contest too much. If they figure things out, they might gang up on us and take Skye for themselves. Who knows what they’ll do to her, trying to cure themselves of the virus? And without her, you don’t have anything to bargain with.”
Freddy smiled like he was seeing Ian for the first time.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises? When did you become the voice of reason?” Freddy’s body visibly relaxed as he began to realize he needed to hide his initial excitement in order to protect my secret from the other Harvesters. “Just make sure you and lover boy over there win the tournament tomorrow, and we won’t have anything to worry about. As soon as one of you wins her, we can take her to Julia’s. Don’t let me down, Ian. You won’t like it if you do.”
