Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy

by DelSheree Gladden

  “What’s to stop the Guardians from coming after us while we wait?”

  “Nothing, really,” I admit, “but I showed them today what I’m really capable of. It isn’t something they’re going to forget. They may be murderous animals, but they’re smart. They’re going to take a step back and try to figure out how to beat me.”

  “Why give them the chance?” Milo demands.

  “Because we need the time, and I think it’s worth the risk. Besides, sinking people into floors isn’t all I can do. They won’t be able to plan for everything.”

  That brings a slight smile to Milo’s lips. He’s one of the few people who have seen me work at my top level, but not even he has seen everything. And if I can just survive until my eighteenth birthday, when my already potent talents will be fully unlocked, nobody will be able to stop me. I turn seventeen in a few weeks. I still need to make it to eighteen. One more year. I don’t know how I’m ever going to make it that long.

  The thumping bass of Lance’s ringtone breaks the silence that has fallen. He snaps it up to his ear without bothering to see who’s calling. I don’t know who he thought it would be since all of the people still speaking to him—minus his little brother who is at school—are all in this room. Regardless, he answers it with his usual, “This is Lance. What do you got for me?”

  No one can hear the other end of the call. Lance’s face drains of color, catching all of our attention. “What? Seriously?” Lances stutters. His jaw drops. “No, she’s with me. Just a second, sir.”

  Sir? Lance doesn’t call anyone but his dad sir. I throw him a questioning look, and he answers by handing me the phone with the speaker covered. “It’s the president,” he hisses.

  “The president of what?”

  “Of the world.”

  Everybody’s mouths pop open at that. A slimy, creeping sensation crawls over my body. The President of the world is the head Guardian, the absolute authority in every aspect of pretty much everything. History books say that people like Presidents and Prime Ministers used to be elected officials. That died away with the rise of the Guardian’s power. President Howe is the darkest, evilest, most ruthless man in the world. He never would have become president if he wasn’t. He’s also the one who ordered the Guardians to leave me alone after my Inquest. At first, I thought it was because he wanted me to suffer the public humiliation of having everyone in my life turn on me. Mr. Walters and Braden both suggested it was to make his victory over me as dramatic and fulfilling as possible. I have a feeling there’s a lot more to it than that, but I never expected him to call me. Keeping a steady hand as I take the phone from Lance isn’t possible without a massive dose of Naturalism.

  “Hello?”

  “Libitina Sparks?” he asks. His slithering voice pierces me and makes me shiver.

  “Yes.”

  “This is President Howe. It has been a while since we last spoke.”

  “Why are you calling me?” I ask.

  Silence. He waits until I start to repeat my question then interrupts me. “I want to offer you a truce.”

  “I thought we already had one of those.”

  “Letting you go back to school and remain free?” he laughs. “No, that wasn’t a truce, not at all.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “That was … curiosity”

  “What? You’re not curious anymore?” I ask, not buying his reasons at all.

  He chuckles in a way that makes my stomach turn. “I’m more curios than ever, Miss Sparks, but that is beside the point. It will have to wait. What I want to discuss now is a truce between you and my men.”

  “What?” I demand. “Why?”

  “I, of course, already know of your escapade this morning and the loss of one of my men,” he says calmly. “I also know about your stunt with the Ciphers, and a few other memorable moments. You’ve given me plenty of reasons to end your life, but the Cipher families attacking me at every turn have done wonders to keep me from action. I was willing to let the Cipher families have their way for personal reasons.”

  “You mean you did it to try and look all sweet and nice so the public will stop hating you?”

  “And it worked beautifully. Public opinion of me has never been higher.”

  “Too bad it didn’t work on your brothers,” I say. “How many uprisings have you had to put down in the last year? I know Pierro and Valdez weren’t as successful as they’d hoped.” I relish the garbled grunt of surprise when I mentioned the names I got from the Seeker in Canada. “And what really happened to Lazaro after he sent his men to kill me?”

  Howe doesn’t answer. I can hear the creaking of his phone as his hand crushes it. I hope I never have to look at Howe’s sickening face again, but it would be nice to see him squirm right now.

  “It would seem I’m not the only one who’s curious,” Howe says.

  “You’ve heard about curiosity and cats, right?” It’s probably not the best idea to be a smart mouth to the guy who wants to kill me, but I just can’t stand him.

  “That applies to you too, Libby.”

  “Maybe. I seem to be outside of those kinds of rules.”

  “Perhaps,” he says with irritation lacing each syllable. “Either way, I have decided that my curiosity about what you can do is no longer worth the price. I’d rather not lose any more of my forces before I can kill you legally.”

  “The legality of my death isn’t stopping you. You’ve already sent Sihirs after me. You could send whoever you wanted to come and kill me at any second. Why would I trust you to stay away from me now?”

  “The Sihir was not my doing.”

  “How loose is your hold on your men?” I demand.

  I can hear his fist slam down on something. The sound makes me jump, but what’s even worse is that after he calms down he starts drumming his fingers in frustration. The noise plays chopsticks on my already frayed nerves. President or not, I’m about to hang up on him.

  “I’m no fool, Miss Sparks. I refuse to release information to the public about anything you’ve done over the last year because the public response is too unpredictable, but I know that may not last very long. If word gets out about what you’ve done, not everyone will call for your death. Eighty-seven Ciphers are dead after being abducted by Guardians. Compare that to one of my men dead. I know where the public’s sympathies will lie.

  “It was just you and an inconsequential gathering of teenagers before, but that’s changed. You’ve gain sympathizers, and if I come after you they will raise hell for me. Civil war will erupt within the Guardians, and you and I both know that the devastation will spill out to the public. Then I’ll have civilians attacking Guardians in retribution. You may think I’m a monster, but I’d rather avoid the death tolls an uprising of that magnitude will bring. It’s one more year. Don’t come near one of my people again, and I’ll do the same.”

  “I don’t believe you would do that. You want me to put my guard down so you can kill me in secret.”

  He laughs. His condescending chuckle infuriates me. “Miss Sparks, when I kill you, I have no intention of doing it secretly.”

  I want to reach through the phone and strangle him, but there’s an honest conviction in his voice. He wants my death to be a spectacular crowning achievement for his legacy of brutality, just like Mr. Walters said he would. Nothing else will keep him from being drug out of his office and obliterated by his brothers. He’ll wait. My stomach roils as the words form in my mouth. Actually speaking them nearly makes me vomit. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  “You stay away from me. I’ll stay away from you,” he says, “until the day you turn eighteen. One year and two weeks. That’s really not so long to wait, now, is it?”

  “Depends on how you look at it,” I say through my teeth.

  “Well, I always have been a bit of an optimist,” Howe says. “I know I’m a little early, Miss Sparks, but happy birthday. Only one more to go.”

  The line disconnects and I fling the
phone back at Lance. He catches it effortlessly, more attention focused on me than his grab. “What was all that about?”

  It takes me a moment to calm my desire to break people in half and spin the conversation with Howe in the most positive light I can. You would think my impending death would make that hard, but that’s old news to me. Howe’s offer showed more than how arrogant he is. “The Guardians are more scared and fragmented than I thought. President Howe just offered me a truce and I took it. We leave him and his lackeys alone until I turn eighteen, and he’ll do his best to keep his competitors from killing me.”

  Not that there’s any chance this truce will last that long, but it does give me the break I need. I let everyone in the room take a deep breath and consider the idea of not being hunted for a few seconds. The emotional temperature of the room cools as they think. All except for the little bundle of simmering rage in the corner. Hope. She doesn’t seem thrilled with the deal at all. She looks even more revved up than before. I get the distinct impression she isn’t thinking about taking a break. She wants to keep planning.

  “What did my grandpa tell you?” Hope asks, her harsh voice slicing through the momentary silence. The instant of relief dissipates immediately.

  I look over at her slowly. She’s so angry. She has every right to be, but I seriously hope she calms down soon. I get myself into enough trouble without having a loose cannon strapped to my leg. The truce with Howe can only last so long with the plans I have for kidnapping a Seeker, but I need at least a little time to breathe and think. She’s not going to let up, though, so I answer her question.

  “Your grandpa told me that the prophecy the regular Guardians have about me isn’t complete. We need to find a Seeker so I can get the rest of the prophecy. He also said the Guardians can turn Ciphers into something worse than Sihirs, which we also need a Seeker to find out more about.” As an afterthought, and really just to myself, I add, “And he also said this wasn’t the first time I’ve been betrayed. He told me to remember the last stanza.”

  Lance is the only one close enough to hear me. His questioning look makes me shrug. I don’t know why I even mentioned it. The last stanza of the prophecy talked about someone trying to take everything from me and failing, and that I would learn the secret of their betrayal. It also said I would learn the value of destruction and turn it against the Guardians. I definitely plan on destroying them, but I have no idea what the rest of it means. Yes, I’ve been betrayed several times, Mr. Walters the most recent. But what have I learned from any of those experiences that will help me? I don’t know.

  The conversation in the room has moved on without me, I realize, turned toward how and when to try capturing a Seeker so I can poke around in his head. They’re discussing whether we should try to catch one here or go to a compound somewhere else like I did in Canada. Milo and Hammond think we should do it here, since not only are there plenty to choose from, but with the chaos I left at the compound they may be distracted enough to slip up and make it easier on us. Lance wants to travel somewhere else because he thinks it will be safer. Plus, he really likes taking the jet. He doesn’t say that, but I know it’s true. I let them argue for a few more minutes while I try to decide what my own opinion on the matter is.

  A sudden banging on the door silences everything. My eyes dart from Lance to the door and back. Please, not yet.

  “Libby,” Braden calls through the door, making my heart lurch. “Libby, please don’t open the door. Please don’t. Get out of there, now. Run. Please.”

  I start to move, but Lance grabs my arm. His fingers dig into my skin, but I can barely feel it. Milo jumps up from his chair with murder in his eyes. Lance doesn’t fail me. He abandons holding me back and practically tackles Milo. They struggle as I walk toward the door. I can feel Braden’s life force pulsing so close. It feels like ages since I’ve felt it this strongly. The familiar thrumming threatens to break me.

  “Braden, are you alright?” I ask.

  I can hear him growl at me in frustration. “I’m fine, but you’re not. Get out of there! You know why I’m here, Libby. Leave!”

  Milo almost breaks free of Lance, but Dean has joined in the effort to keep him restrained.

  “You’ll just come after me again,” I say to Braden.

  “Go where I can’t find you,” he begs. “Make it hard for me. Don’t just sit in there and wait. Please, Libby, go before I hurt you.”

  My heart breaks. He’s pleading, begging me to run from him. All I want is to see him again, make sure he’s okay.

  “We can get her into the garage and make a run for it,” Milo growls at Lance.

  “No,” I snap. “I’m not leaving.”

  Milo uses a burst of Strength to get far enough out of his captors grip to grab my arm. He scowls at me and yanks me toward him. “The hell you’re not. Lance, let go of me! Help me get her to the car!”

  Milo always forgets how strong I am. I pull my arm from his grip with little effort. “I’m not leaving, Milo.”

  “He’s going to kill you!” Milo says through his teeth.

  “He’s going to try, but he’s not going to do it,” I correct. Milo stares at me. My hands start shaking at my sides. I won’t run. “Milo, I if run now, he’ll just follow me, and like Mr. Walters’ wife, one day he’ll catch up to me when no one else is around. Maybe I can hold him off on my own, or maybe I can’t. If I face him right now, at least I’m not alone. At least I can try to stop him knowing you’re here to back me up if it doesn’t work.”

  None of those reasons are what really matter to me, but Milo doesn’t look like he’s going to give me a chance. I turn to Lance for help. He grimaces, but holds Milo in check.

  My real reason for staying, I love Braden and I can’t run away from him. I have to believe I can stop him from killing me. I’m the most powerful person in the world. My gaze slides from Milo back to Lance. Our eyes lock, and a silent agreement passes between us. I may be the most powerful person in the world, but I can’t do everything. One thing I know I can’t do is kill Braden. If I can’t stop him, Lance will do it for me. My lower lip starts to tremble as I turn to face the door.

  Daniel stands to open the door, but I won’t let him. I cross the floor and grip the door knob in my hand without turning. I can feel him. I can feel his heartbeat, his love, his pain, his desire to rip me apart. If I turn the doorknob, the moment will shatter, maybe forever. Most likely forever. I just want to stand here and feel him. He can feel me, too. He’s touching the door, frozen between wanting to kiss me and kill me.

  It’s time to find out which it will be.

  I pull the door open and stare into his bloodshot eyes. For a moment, all I see is love.

  It passes.

  His knife flicks out of his sheath and comes straight at my jugular. I sweep it away and grab for his wrist. I’m faster, but he is much for refined than I am. His hand twists out of my reach and dives back in. I barely block him in time with my forearm. The blade will slash in again—I have no delusions about that—so I spin away from him and lunge forward.

  As I move, I catch sight of the whole room exploding into motion. My eyes catch them all as I scream, “Don’t touch him!”

  The newest ones, Hope and Hammond pause because they have no idea what’s going on. Daniel and Dean are staring at their friend as they help Lance restrain Milo, unbelieving of what they’re seeing. Lance is straining against Milo, but I can see it in his eyes that he’s barely keeping himself from jumping in. He won’t let me die. I feel a split second of gratitude for him before Braden is on top of me again.

  His attack misses when I drop unexpectedly, but he still manages to grab me with his other hand. My hands slam into his chest to keep him back. Terror fills his eyes as he raises he knife again. His arms are longer than mine. I can’t hold him far enough away to keep his knife from landing. I know I need to move—I can get away with another twist—but I wait, holding him in my gaze, searching for the part of him that doesn’t want t
o do this. It’s there, right on the surface, but it’s bound by his Oath.

  Braden’s knife slashes down at my neck. I shove against him hard and roll to the side. The knife sinks into the carpet where my head used to be. Somehow, he rebounds faster than I can and yanks me back toward him. His pulling me leaves my hands free. I use his momentum to fling my hands around to his. My fingers clamp down on his wrist and wrench them down onto the coffee table. The leg breaks under the blow and the knife falls from his limp fingers.

  One finger dangles oddly, catching me with a moment of guilt. He doesn’t need his hand to take me down. His leg sweeps across mine, and I land on the floor with a crack. He’s on me in a flash. One of my arms is pinned under my body and the other is being pushed against my own neck, choking me. I can’t get any leverage to throw him off of me. I can see Lance and Milo running toward me, but it seems as if they’re moving in slow motion. Braden and I are moving at our own, even slower speed.

  “Libby, please. Kill me,” Braden begs, “before I kill you.”

  My vision is starting to fade, but I shake my head.

  “Kill me!” he screams.

  I can feel the tears rolling down my cheeks—which I’m sure are beginning to turn beet red. Braden chokes back a sob, but his own tears start falling. “Please kill me, Libby. I know you can. Please, just kill me.”

  Oddly, I’m not afraid of dying. I’m more worried about the fact that Milo and Lance are about to reach us, and when they do, they’ll kill Braden before I can stop them. Braden begs me again to kill him, but I can’t. He thinks he’s betraying me, but I feel like I would be betraying him.

  Betrayal.

  That strikes a strange thought in me, suddenly. It’s the oddest time to be thinking about it, but Mr. Walters’ words latch onto me. Lance and Milo are barely two steps away from grabbing Braden. All I can think about is his message. Remember the last stanza. Time freezes for me. I feel like I have an eternity, even though the man I love is about to be killed. I can stop it, if I can just figure it out. Betrayal. Mr. Walters wasn’t the first, my dad was. He was the first, and the most devastating. Learn from it. Use it. What does that mean? How do I use it?