by Jessica Roe
Zay and Gable glanced at each other, at a loss. “You okay?”
“I feel fine,” she replied. Better than fine. The air really had done her wonders.
“So do I. Hue?”
“I'm great.”
“It's just the Outcasts,” Gable said as realization dawned. “Zawavia is affecting them. Terelle said this would happen.”
“It's not too bad,” Ward tried to assure them from where he was sat on a fallen log. Even as he spoke, thin, grassy vines shot up out of the ground and wrapped themselves around his legs, like they were desperate to get close to him. But when he closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath, they shrank back down. He was good at controlling himself. “The dizziness and head pounding has passed. I just feel unstable, like there's a boatload of adrenaline rushing through my veins. It feels like a serious caffeine high, only turned up a hundred notches.”
“Terelle said you might be stronger,” Gable reminded him. “but your powers will be unstable.”
Zay nodded. “I know it must be hard, but it's important you try your best to keep your powers under control. You especially, Ward. Cadby, Queenie and Nicky's powers are mostly mental, but your earth powers could do some serious damage if left unchecked. I'm talking earthquakes just for starters.”
“I know. I'll try.”
“I don't think I'm so bad now either,” the scientist spoke up. She'd pulled her face away from her knees though she still had them tucked tightly to her chest.
“I didn't know she was an Outcast,” Hue whispered to Gable.
“Psychic,” she told him. “Specifically a seer. But I guess it's supposed to be a secret or somethin'. Don't tell your bosses.”
“My lips are sealed. I won't tell a soul.” She knew he was speaking the truth. If they made it through this mission in one piece, the seven of them would be bonded for life. They would always protect one another, no matter what.
“I'm okay too,” Cadby called. “I'm pretty sure I can keep control so long as I concentrate.”
“What about you, Nicky?”
Nicky didn't answer Zay's question; he didn't even seem to hear it. He was kneeling on the mossy ground, hunched over with his head gripped in his hands as he mumbled something low and incomprehensible. His black hair was sticking out at all angles from where he'd pulled at it in distress. Out of all of the Outcasts, he seemed to be having the worst time of it.
“Nicky,” Gable breathed, running to him and dropping to her knees. She yanked both of their packs off and peeled his hands from his face, holding them tightly in hers.
“There's too many.” He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head. She wasn't sure if he even realized she was there. “There's too many.”
“Too many what, Nicky?” she asked gently, rubbing her thumbs over his wrists. He was trembling.
She'd tried not to care for him, tried really, really hard. Not only because caring about people led to loss and pain and emptiness, and not only because she didn't have time to care for anyone when all she wanted to do was bring Sacha home. But because after everything she'd done for Pablo, after all of the choices she'd made, she didn't feel like she deserved to have people to care about. And then Nicky had barged back into her life like a raging bull, shattering her carefully built walls to pieces and she just couldn't help it. She couldn't help but care, and seeing him in so much pain and distress made her dark heart ache.
He glanced up at her with red rimmed, haunted eyes. “Too many shadows. Too many lost souls. All the people Pablo had murdered. . . There's so many of them. They were tortured, Gable. Tortured and tested and locked away until they wished for death just so they could finally be free. But they're not. They're lost and they just want to go home. They're all trying to get to me at once and I just can't. . . I just can't. . .” He closed his eyes again and shook his head, over and over and over again until Gable had to press her forehead against his to stop him.
She slid her fingers up his strong forearms and over his muscular shoulders until she was cupping his cheeks in her hands. “Just try to concentrate on me, okay? Look at my face and concentrate on me. Drown them out until you can clear your head.”
Nodding, he opened his eyes. They were unfocused, but the longer he gazed at her, the stiller he became, until his trembles had all but vanished.
“He needs to help them,” Cadby told her as he sat down next to them. He placed a sympathetic hand on Nicky's shoulder. “Back home he's gotten good at switching if off when he needs to, but with Zawavia increasing our powers, he's too overwhelmed. Helping them find the light is the only way he'll get any peace and the only way he'll be able to continue with the mission.”
“Drugs'll help,” Nicky muttered. Gable wasn't sure whether or not he was kidding.
Cadby glanced up at Zay, who was watching on with concern. “We'll need to make camp here. If there's as many lost souls as I sense there is his energy will be almost depleted after he's helped them all. He won't be able to do anything other than sleep for the rest of the night.”
Zay nodded. “This seems like a good a spot as any. We've walked far enough away from the beach for tonight.”
With Cadby's guidance, Nicky was able to focus enough to begin helping the lost souls into his light. It was a long, arduous task, and he grew paler with every passing minute. While they worked, the rest of the group set up the small tents and built a fire. Gable sat by Nicky's side the entire time, clinging tightly to his spare hand. She wished there was more she could do to help him, but he said having her there, anchoring him, was enough.
He was going through so much, she knew, and she couldn't even begin to imagine it. He'd told her once that he automatically knew how the shadows had died as soon as he saw them. To have to experience that on an island where so many had lost their lives in such awful ways. . . She didn't know how he could deal with it. He was way, way braver than she'd ever given him credit for.
Finally, with an exhausted sigh of relief, Nicky deflated. “They're gone.”
She smiled at him. “Hey, did you know your eyes go gray when you're in your shadow guide view thing?”
“Really?”
“Yuh huh.”
“I didn't know that,” he replied sleepily.
“They're brown again now.”
He scooted down to lay on the leafy ground. “Good.”
“Okay, big guy.” Gable chuckled as she tried to pull him back up. “You need to eat before you sleep. Can't restore your energy on an empty stomach.”
“Too tired,” he grumbled. He allowed her to sit him up, but only so he could drop his head onto her lap.
She grinned down at him affectionately. Ward tossed her a bag of dried fruit and she fed them to him one at a time. Nicky wrapped an arm around her waist and smiled sleepily up at her.
Uh oh. She'd be in trouble tomorrow.
But she let it go. For one night she would just be happy that he was okay and that they were all miraculously alive. Just for one night.
When Nicky had eaten and downed an entire bottle of water, Zay hoisted him up under his arms and all but dragged him into one of the tents to put him to bed, laughing the whole time at the dopey, half asleep expression on his face.
It was reassuring that they could still laugh. It felt good.
Chapter 15
Gable
Gable watched the fire as it crackled and popped, calming her in a way that didn't make all that much sense. She thought it probably had something to do with it being a small reminder of home. Across the flickering flames, she spotted the scientist sat up against the fallen log Ward had abandoned. Her shoulders were hunched and her knees still pulled against her chest. She looked about thirty seconds away from tears, though she was clearly doing her best to hide it.
Sighing, Gable closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. She didn't do well with tears. Crying people made her all kinds of awkward. All that feeling and emotion and snot.
But as the only other female, and apparently
the only person paying any attention, Gable felt obligated to go over there. Having a whimpering girl on the mission would be a serious downer.
Praying to God the girl didn't want to share her damn life story, Gable reluctantly heaved herself up and made her way around the fire to sit next to her.
“So. . .” Where the hell was she supposed to start? Aside from Terelle, Gable wasn't a girl's girl. Not even close. Not since she'd been that sixteen year old cheerleader who'd had her own pack following her every move like she was a high school goddess. Now that she was older and very, very different, Gable's opinions of women were. . . Well, they were stupid annoying. They had way too many issues and they whined about everything. Everything!
She cleared her throat and said finally, “What's up with you?” And then, realizing that had probably sounded harsh, she tried out a smile to make it look like she truly did care, though to her it felt more like a grimace.
“Nothing. I'm fine.”
Gable huffed. If she was going to pretend like she gave a crap then the chick needed to start talking. “Look, we could go a couple rounds, me asking you what the deal is and you telling me nothing again and again until you finally just give in and tell me already, or you could just make it easy on both of us and talk.”
The scientist fidgeted with her fingers. “I'm afraid,” she admitted.
Glancing over at her trembling lip and scared brown eyes, Gable felt the strings of her heart tug just a little. Damn her. This girl, even younger than Gable, was the kind that even the coldest heart could feel for, and she knew that by the end of this trip she was probably going to end up caring about her too. Just a little. Maybe. Perhaps.
She reached out hesitantly to pat the girl's knee, then pulled quickly away. “Hey, what's your name again?”
“Felicity,” she replied with a sniff. “But most people call me Queenie.”
“Prom Queen?”
“Yeah. How'd you guess?”
“It's hardly rocket science. It's a dumb nickname, by the way.” And yet somehow she knew she'd end up using it. “What lame ass was stupid enough to come up with. . . Oh, wait. The blonde bitch, right?”
Queenie's eyes widened comically. “Her name is Walker!”
“Yeah, but. . .she's blonde and she's a bitch.”
A snorty giggle burst out of Queenie, and then she slapped her hand over her mouth like she couldn't believe her own betrayal.
Gable grinned. “Yeah, you think I'm funny.”
“But she's my best friend,” Queenie mumbled from behind her fingers.
“Ah, but you're not denying it.”
Queenie smiled naughtily. “Well, she is blonde.” Seconds later her eyes were downcast again, as if she'd suddenly remembered where they were and all the reasons she had to be fearful.
Gable nudged her with her knee. “Did anyone tell you that you look kind of bad ass in your uniform?”
She stretched out her legs and glanced down at her tight black outfit and boots. “I feel naked without my skirts and dresses. I mean, this is how you normally dress, right? How do you do it?”
“Form fitting clothes are easier to fight in,” Gable explained easily. “And I always need to be ready to fight, even now I'm not working for Pablo. Especially now.”
“That makes sense. Do I really look bad ass?”
“Totally. Like a li'l ninja.” She shifted into a more comfortable position, feeling less awkward than she had just minutes before. “It's okay to be afraid, you know? Sensible even. Fear keeps you sharp.” Averting her eyes, because this emotional stuff was hard enough at it was, she continued. “But I'll look out for you on this mission, I promise. I got your back, and nothing will happen to you as long as I can help it.” Instead of her earlier emptier words, this time Gable wasn't just saying it because she felt she had to. She truly meant it; she'd take care of the girl as much as she could.
Man, she was going soft.
Queenie smiled, losing her stiff posture. “Thank you. That actually makes me feel safer, which is never something I thought I'd feel around you.” Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd said. “No offense.”
Rolling her eyes, Gable said, “None taken.”
She caught Queenie smiling at her and she couldn't help return the gesture.
They sat quietly for a while, the only sounds coming from the crackle of the flames and the soft chatter of the men on the other side of the fire and the occasional snore from Nicky.
“Can I ask you something?” Queenie spoke up after a while.
“I guess.”
“Do you think you'd still be here if your friend wasn't? Sacha, I mean.”
Gable raised her brow as she contemplated; it wasn't something she'd spared any time to think about before. “No,” she replied honestly. “I wouldn't. Because if Sacha wasn't here then he'd be home with me where he belongs, and I'd have never been involved in any of this in the first place. Not Pablo, not the Guardians, not any of it. We'd still be sharing a tiny apartment, working two jobs each just to pay the rent and we'd be happy.” She sighed wistfully. “We'd be happy because we were together.”
“What if he'd been taken but he'd been killed here like those other Outcasts Nicky helped earlier? God, sorry, that sounded so awful. Sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me.”
Gable's stomach clenched horribly at the thought of Sacha being gone. She'd known for sure he was alive not a couple of weeks before, had been told by an actual reaper, but anything could have happened since then. She was sure that she'd feel it in her heart if Sacha died, but. . .but sometimes she doubted herself. She doubted her heart.
Leaning back, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the log. “Then yes, I'd still be here. I was a part of bringing in some of the Outcasts even if I didn't realize what it was for at the time. Now that I know, I'd give my life to bring them home.”
“It's not your fault. You shouldn't keep blaming yourself.”
Gable shrugged but ignored the sentiment; she would feel the weight of blame on her shoulders for the rest of her life.
“Can I ask you something else?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” she replied dryly.
“Whatever.” Queenie already seemed way to comfortable in Gable's presence; perhaps being nice had been a mistake. She much preferred when people were afraid of her. “Are we friends now?”
“That's your question?” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes again.
“Yuh huh.”
“It's kind of needy.”
“Maybe I'm a needy person. Answer the question. We totally had a moment.”
“Well haven't you grown a pair.” She chewed on her lip and then huffed. “I guess.”
Queenie grinned triumphantly. “Ha! You like me, I knew it. I guess I'm just impossible not to love.” She held out her hand to shake. “I'd hug you, but I don't think you'd be into it.”
Despite herself, Gable felt a smile pull at her lips as she reached out to shake.
The second their skin touched, something sparked within them and suddenly images were whizzing through Gable's head so fast they were nothing but blurs. She felt dizzy even though she was sitting, and at the back of her mind, she thought she heard Queenie make a sound of distress but she couldn't be quite sure.
Distantly, she felt Queenie squeeze her hand impossibly tight and then the images slowed, the pictures cleared into moments, small moments from Gable's past. Moments of her, moments of Sacha, moments of them together. And not only was she seeing them, she was re-feeling everything she'd felt, like she was living them all over again.
She watched again the first time they'd met. Her terror of being stalked, attacking him, falling to the ground. His stubbornness, his charm, his dimple. The way he'd held her in his arms that night as the rain had fallen around them.
The first full moon she'd seen him change into a werewolf and the fear in his eyes the next morning when he'd thought she was going to leave him. The way he'd trembled as she'd pulle
d him close and promised to take care of him.
Endless nights sleeping on the streets, curled around each other for warmth. Other nights when it had been so cold and they'd been so desperate that they'd broken into empty houses, borrowing them while their owners were on vacation. Then there were the best nights, the ones where the Outcasts would let Sacha back into Yarmac & Bogely's, or when they'd managed to pull enough food together for the kids that their friend, Keston, would let them sleep by her fire.
Their first apartment, their first real home. How excited they'd been each time they'd scrimped and saved up enough money to buy another piece of second hand furniture. Spooning each other in bed at night and pretending that they couldn't feel their hearts racing, that they weren't affected by the others touch.
Laughter. Tears. Joy. Longing. Belonging.
And finally, the last time they'd seen one another. Their kiss, the way Sacha had gripped her like he was memorizing every inch of her. Him leaving.
Him never coming back.
Gable yanked her hand away from Queenie's with a gasp, bending over between her knees and heaving deep breaths as the emotions rushed through her, filling her until she was sure she was going to overflow with something. She hooked her arms behind her neck as she tried to keep calm, desperate not to show how upset she really was, though she could feel her eyes burning with tears as her heart broke all over again.
She was overcome with all the emotions she always worked so damn hard to hide. All her feelings for Sacha that she usually buried deep within her, only to be taken out and torn to shreds late at night when she was all alone and there was no one around to watch her break. Her sorrow at his long absence, the emptiness inside her heart from missing him so much, guilt, anger, self hatred, and feelings for him that ran much, much deeper than she'd ever dared to explore.
A quiet sob broke free but she immediately stifled it.
Queenie's hands flew to her mouth. “I'm so sorry!” she cried. “I'm sorry! I really am. It's the island, it's making my powers all funky. I would never invade someone's privacy like that, I swear. I don't even. . . I've never had a vision from touch before, and I've never been able to share them, not even with Cadby.”
