"How would they have known where she was going? It's not like there were tickets they could track. She used the conduit airplane."
"What if they were already listening?" Kira whispered.
"What?" Luke asked. Kira met his eyes, ignoring the quick glance he made between her body and Tristan's.
"What if they were already listening to the conduits? Spying on Sonnyville? The airport is just outside the wall, they could have been watching it." Kira rubbed her temples. A thought was tugging at her, irking her. Something didn’t add up.
"But why?" Luke asked.
And suddenly it hit Kira, ramming into her like a truck.
"Of course," she said, squinting and rubbing at her temples, "Why didn’t I see it before?"
"What?" Luke and Pavia asked in unison. They didn’t see it yet.
"Sonnyville. That's the plan. That's always been the plan." Kira stood and started pacing. "Aldrich, he's going to attack Sonnyville. He knows I won’t be able to hideout while all of those people are being attacked. He knows I'll go, knows I'll want to fight him—"
"But you can't, Kira," Luke said, standing too.
"But I have to," Kira said. A choice. It was always about making a choice.
"There are too many conduits—"
"I know." Luke was right. There were too many conduits. Too many sweetly scented veins to drag her down, to entice her, to push her over the edge. If she went there, used her powers there, she would fall. No questions. That was an absolute. And even more absolute? Conduits would die. "But I can't let him win." A choice.
"Hold up," Pavia interjected, "you're saying Aldrich is going to attack Sonnyville? It's suicide."
"He doesn't care anymore," Kira said, "all he cares about is finishing what he started back in England. Turning me. Ending the conduits. God, why didn’t I see it before?"
Why didn't she see it when her mother was attacked, Kira thought, why didn’t she realize Sonnyville was always the end goal—always the battleground?
"I need to call Alessandro. Maybe he can confirm it." Pavia stood, retreating to the kitchen.
"I need to call the Council. I have to warn them." Luke followed, turning left for the stairs rather than right.
Kira fell back onto the couch, chiding herself. Idiot. It was so obvious. He knew what he had been doing all along. Attacking her mother. Attacking her home. Practically begging her to choose vengeance, to meet him for a final fight. He was never trying to kill her, just to goad her, because he did know. Ever since he had escaped, Aldrich had known that he had been right all along—that she would fall and she would bring the rest of the conduits down with her.
Unless a choice was really all it took. Keep her Punisher powers to kill him, or let them go for the chance at something more.
"Kira?"
She blinked, turning slightly to look at Tristan. What a different a couple of days could make. His soft chocolate eyes did nothing to lessen her anxiety, but his presence did. The familiarity helped set her mind at ease.
"Yeah, Tristan?"
He stood up, walking over to sit on the edge of the couch, his leg a somehow distant one-inch from hers.
"I know I am not the man you remember, but I would still like to help. I can see that you are uneasy, that something more than what's been spoken is troubling you."
"Am I that obvious?" She laughed under her breath.
He shrugged, unsure of how to respond.
Kira took his hand in her lap, holding it between both of hers. "You know what's funny? I mean, not really funny, but strange. You used to be my person, the one who could help me escape when the conduit life seemed overwhelming or my future seemed hopeless. Somehow, you'd distract me enough to make it disappear for a while, to make me feel like a normal teenage girl."
"Maybe I still can," he said, bringing his other hands over hers, so four sets of fingers interlaced.
How? Kira wanted to ask. The old Tristan would talk of their lives together. The places they would travel, the things they would see, the memories they would create. He always avoided serious things, like getting married, since he wasn't legally a person, or having children, since it wasn't possible. But somehow, he managed to talk of the future without making her think of those things. He would make it seem glamorous and hopeful, instead of the truth—that she was completely doomed.
"I'll start by telling you that no matter what happens, you still saved me. I have a feeling that you've saved me once before, during a time I don't remember, but even in the few days that I do, I feel as though I need to thank you."
"No, you don—"
"I do," he interrupted, "you brought me back to life. Literally. You gave me a second chance to be a good person, to get it right. But also in another way. You brought me home, and even though it feels like my parents and brother were alive only a week ago, being here has helped me accept that they are gone."
Gone. They are gone. Why was that concept so difficult to comprehend? To believe?
"Do you miss them?" She asked. This was a new Tristan, one who honored his past rather than keeping it from her. In a way, Kira felt like she was getting to know him for the first time, or at least getting to know a side of himself that he had always kept hidden from everyone, even her.
"Yes and no," he said, leaning back in his seat, eyes glazing over, "My mother. I miss her the most. The truly unconditional love she honored me with, it was a rare thing. My father and I, my brother and I—we never really understood each other. I miss them, of course, but not the way you miss a true friend, how losing them feels like losing a part of yourself. I miss them because they were familiar, they were my blood, and there's always something to be said about that. But they were never part of my soul."
"But your mother was?"
"She was everything to me," he said softly, paused, "and yet, I feel as though another piece of me is missing too, something I don't know how to identify." He looked up at her, through the dark black lashes framing his eyes, and the slightly shaggy hair that fell down over his forehead. Kira's heart sped.
He was begging her—begging her to tell him what the missing part was. But she couldn't it, because Kira didn’t know. She didn’t know if part of him was dying from missing her, or if part of him was still lost somewhere in the memory of being a vampire. Either way, it would soon be gone, spirited away by Pavia's powers, and he would feel whole again. At least she hoped he would.
"Can I ask you something, Tristan?"
He nodded.
"If you could choose between vengeance and love, what would you pick?"
"Love," he answered quickly.
"Even if it was to avenge your mother? Even then?"
He laughed. "Especially then."
"How are you so sure?"
"All my mother ever wanted was for me to marry, to find a wife, to love. To throw that away would be to disgrace her memory, not to honor it. But perhaps this is a question I should be asking you?" He raised his eyebrows, trying to peer through her, right into the thoughts she was trying to shield. "I didn’t quite follow the three of you before, but this man Aldrich, what did he do to you?"
"He killed my mother…" Kira sighed. He killed you, she continued in her thoughts. He took away Tristan's soul. He was the catalyst that broke them apart. He was the joker, dancing the dream of her mother around, dangling it like a noose made specially for her. He was the dark hole wedged inside of her heart.
"What do you think she would want for you?" Tristan asked.
Kira thought back to the few memories she had from Pavia. The warm home, the warm thoughts, the big dreams. She knew what her mother would want—love will prevail. Kira had known what her parents had been fighting for all along—the chance to be happy, the hope that love might just win out in the end.
But another memory pulled at her. Aldrich. Back in England, he had interrupted her in the garden. A dreamer, that's what he called Tristan. But not her. He had named her a realist, someone who worked in facts and not wishes, wh
o lived in the real world instead of the happy fantasy.
Kira didn’t know what she was.
There were facts: Aldrich was a bad man, he was attacking Sonnyville, he had to be stopped, Kira could kill him, could choose her Punisher side, but in doing so would lose Luke forever.
Then there were dreams: Tristan finding peace with himself, Kira feeling free of the weight of the world resting on her shoulders, saving vampires who want to be saved, falling in love, knowing the sun would stay with her forever, knowing the killing would finally stop.
A choice.
"Kira."
She looked up toward the staircase where Luke was standing, his eyes glued to Tristan's hands in her lap. His lids closed slowly, painfully, and then he was looking at her, silently pushing any jealousy to the back of his mind.
"I spoke with your grandfather," he said, voice strained. Kira slipped her fingers from Tristan's. He slowly followed suit, hesitating before cutting contact completely.
"What'd he say?"
Luke walked down the stairs before collapsing into his empty chair. "It's not looking great in Sonnyville. The Punishers are still petitioning to have you killed—they think our running away just proved that they had been right. He said they've been noticing an increased vampire presence and turned the UV wall around the town up to a stronger setting. And, feelings about you within the town are mixed and it's hard to tell which side has more support. Basically, gloom and doom as per usual."
"I'm starting to get tired of that," Kira joked.
"Me too."
Kira clicked her tongue, thinking. "Did you tell him about the attack? About our suspicions?"
Luke nodded. She paused, taking a deep breath.
"Did you tell him about me?"
Luke met her eyes, the fire-flaked emerald green pierced through her, and shook his head.
"Are they prepared to fight?"
"As prepared as can be, but he seemed doubtful. If there are as many vampires as we're afraid of, I don't see how the Protectors can fight without any help. The presence of the Punishers will ease the pressure a little, but having me there to strategize and having Pavia's vampires could mean the difference between victory and defeat."
Kira knew where this was going. Me. He had said me—not us. She stood up, pointing at him forcefully and shaking her head. "No way. You are not leaving me behind."
Luke wrinkled his nose, and stood to challenge her. "Kira, you can't come. You need to stay away from all of the conduits until we figure out how to stop whatever's happening to you."
"I won't."
"You have to."
"Luke, come on. After all of this? You just want to cut me out? I don't care if you lock me in a closet when the battle starts, but I have to be there. I have to help."
"Kira, it's too dangerous. And not just for you, for everyone."
"I'll just steal your car and drive there. You can't keep me out of this."
"God," he said, and ran a hand through his thick blond hair, sighing, "can't you just listen to me this time?"
"No," Kira said quickly.
"How will you even get inside? Half of Sonnyville wants you dead."
Half? Kira gulped. Her list of allies seemed to be getting shorter on an hourly basis.
"We'll think of something. Zip me inside of your suitcase or something, I don't care. I just need to see my grandfather, to help him plan out the fight. I promise, I'll stay inside, I won't let anyone—not even Aldrich—know I'm there." Crossed-toes still counted right? Kira thought, wedging her second-toe over the big one inside of her sock. No way would she let someone else fight her fight.
Luke raised his eyebrows. "You'll willingly keep away from the action?"
Kira nodded earnestly. Luke snorted.
"Please, I've known you too long to believe that one. At least try to be inventive."
Pavia strode in, making no attempt to be quite as she said goodbye and hung up the phone. Saved by the vampire, Kira thought.
"Alessandro just confirmed it. He joined some of Aldrich's cronies and they had very loose lips, good for us. They're amassing outside of Sonnyville, just waiting for the go ahead." Just waiting for me to arrive, Kira thought.
"Did he learn anything else?" Luke questioned. He flicked his eyes to Kira one more time, letting her know he hadn't forgotten anything.
Pavia shook her head.
"Any word from the other vampires? How fast can you all get there?" Kira asked.
"As soon as you need us, but no sooner. We won't be able to hang around outside of Sonnyville unnoticed. Once we get there, we need to get right to the fighting."
"Sounds good to me," Kira replied. She wanted to end this, once and for all. "Your vamps attack from the outside, Luke and I rally the conduits on the inside and Aldrich is toast."
"I have an idea," Luke said quietly, almost as if he wasn't quite sure he wanted to share it. Kira waited. He tensed and then sat up. "There's another way in, a secret way under the wall."
"Really?" Kira jerked in surprise. Why hadn't he told her?
"It was a backup, in case vampires ever surrounded Sonnyville. A way to get people out if we needed to. But it can also get people in, people like vampires. But only the Council knows where it is."
"My grandfather will show us, he—"
"Don't," Pavia said quietly, "don't show us, just in case something happens or someone follows us. We'll fight from the outside, like Kira said."
"You're sure?" Luke asked. "Being inside might provide more protection."
"Or a Punisher might kill us when we're not looking," she replied. Kira sank back in her seat, unable to deny it. If the conduits wanted to kill Kira, nearly one of their own, there was almost no way they would agree to peacefully fight alongside vampires.
All of them stopped talking, choosing to think for a minute instead. Blood rushed in Kira's veins, warming her body, exciting it. The fight was finally here, and this time, Aldrich would not escape. One way or another, he would pay.
"So saying I agree to let you come—"
Kira rolled her eyes and interjected, "meaning you've realized there's no way to stop me."
"Meaning I'm a kind hearted soul who knows how much this means to you—"
"Who's also afraid of me," Kira supplied. Luke smirked.
"Who's also deathly afraid of pissing you off—how do we get you inside without Aldrich knowing? We need to hold the fight off for as long as possible."
"We can't drive," Kira said.
"Flights will automatically be suspicious," Pavia said.
"And parachuting is totally out of the question…" Luke deadpanned and looked at her, forcing his wavering lips together. "You might have had something with the luggage."
"For real?" Kira asked, concerned with how serious his voice sounded. He nodded earnestly. Kira couldn’t detect a joke…but he had to be kidding, right?
"Not the whole time," Luke sat forward, leaning on his forearms as his features became more animated, "we take the private plane, and when we land, you'll squeeze into a suitcase—don’t look at me like that, we can line it with memory foam or something—and then none of the conduits will know you're there. The vampires will only hear my name, hear about me landing, and I can say you stayed with your family, that you're waiting it out in Charleston. I'll go right to your grandfather's house, and we'll open the suitcase there."
"Aldrich won't buy it," Kira said.
"Maybe not forever, but we don’t need long. We only need enough time to organize the conduits and give Pavia the final word to attack."
"It might work," Pavia said, shrugging and throwing a wide, teasing grin in Kira's direction.
A suitcase. Really. Kira breathed deeply. It was for a greater cause, the good of her people…but a suitcase, really?
"Fine," Kira said through gritted teeth, "but you're bringing Tristan with you, Luke." She looked at Pavia quickly, then to Tristan who sat up upon hearing his name. Kira had one more thing to do before the fight.
>
She had to give Tristan his life back. To restore his soul by removing any and all memories of his life as a vampire.
To finally say goodbye.
Chapter Thirteen
She was going to kill Luke… kill him. I bought the thickest memory foam, he said. You'll be fine, he said. It'll only be fifteen minutes, he said.
Kira was going to kill him.
Her entire body ached and she had definitely been in this stupid, dark, suitcase sweating in her own hot breath for at least half an hour.
Ouch.
Another bump. How ridiculously ill-paved were the roads in Sonnyville? Kira questioned, wishing she could rub her sore back. When he had zipped her up, Kira had sworn that Luke was silently laughing at her with his eyes. But then he had lifted the suitcase to its rollers, so her bottom was wedged painfully in the narrow space taking on her full weight, and Kira knew—this was his grand revenge for never letting him win.
We'll see who's laughing when I finally get out of here, Kira thought, wincing as the car bounced over another pothole.
With no other distraction, she tried to focus on the plan. Pavia had regrouped all of the vampires aside from Alessandro, who was still acting as the inside mole, and they were making their way to the outskirts of Sonnyville—far enough away to avoid Aldrich's detection, but close enough to be there within minutes. And since vamps could usually run even faster than a car, Kira guessed they would be there in an hour or two. Hopefully that would be fast enough.
Luke and Tristan were sitting comfortably inside of the car, hopefully talking loudly about how they had left Kira behind with her mother, how they had foiled Aldrich's plot—just in case there were vampires listening as well as watching. Tristan was pretending to remember everything and Kira had given him a few key pointers to mention—her falling, the fight in England, how his human body had adjusted to his vampire memories…basically anything that might throw Aldrich off.
And, well, Kira was obviously stuck in the trunk, disguised as a very heavy suitcase filled with books Luke had gathered on conduit lore.
Would Aldrich buy it? Hopefully for the few hours she needed to convince the Protector Council that in order to win this fight, they needed to listen to her.
Scorch (Midnight Fire Series) Page 14
