Archer laughed and I looked at him.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he said. “You have this incredible power and you think it’s a curse?” He shifted forward in his seat. “You can control the elements. Do you have any idea how amazing that is? It has never happened before.”
I blinked. “What?”
Rather than answer me, he turned his attention to Ashton. “She had everything going crazy. I have never seen anything like it.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, hating how excited he was getting.
He ran a pink tongue over his lips as he cocked his head in my direction. “I’m talking about you being one of the most powerful sins I have ever met.” He looked to Ashton. “Even more than you.”
Instead of glee or satisfaction, I felt a chill course through me. “You’re crazy.”
Straight, white teeth flashed in a cutting smirk. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t change the facts.” He shot to his feet and I noticed for the first time that he was topless beneath his leather coat. I felt another shiver ripple along my skin at the knowledge that I was wearing his shirt, but he was talking and I forgot all about it. “I saw you, Princess. I watched you call on the winds. I watched you rip open the earth like a hot knife through butter. You ignited fire from nowhere…” He abruptly stopped to suck in a harsh breath. “Only the very first sins were ever able to do that. The original sins. The ones created by the tree. But it’s an ability that was lost over the eons. There are a few of us who can channel one or two elements, but what I saw … no one else can do that.”
Everyone was watching me and I wanted to scream at them to stop it. It was very hard to focus when their eyes kept prodding into me like drills, waiting for me to do something I wasn’t sure how.
“You’re wrong,” I finally forced out. “I take responsibility for the earthquake, but the others…” My voice hitched. “Don’t you think I would use these powers against Garrison if I had them?”
“How would you know?” Isaiah murmured. “It’s not like we ever tried seeing what your powers were. We always just assumed it was earthquakes.” He softened his tone. “This isn’t a bad thing, Fallon. You said yourself you wanted powers.”
He was right. I had always wanted useful powers and the idea that I was powerful enough to finally do something useful other than run was exciting. Except…
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” I replied, feeling suddenly drained.
“What to do?” Archer’s tone was dry, like he was insulted, amused and disgusted all at the same time. “You learn to hone them and use them.”
He made it sound so simple.
“How?” I snapped at him. “If no one else has these powers, who’s going to teach me?”
“I will.” Ashton moved around to stand at the foot of my bed and put a hand on Archer’s shoulder, stopping him from speaking again. “I may not possess the same number of abilities as you, but I do control one.”
He raised his hand and the lamp next to the bed hovered a foot off the nightstand. The room was filled with a metallic stench.
“You’re going to teach me telekinesis?” I asked.
He set the lamp down and chuckled. “No, I am going to teach you air.”
I looked to Archer. “You said no other sin has these abilities.”
“They don’t,” Ashton answered for him. “And I don’t. Not really. I have a small dose of what you have.”
“I saw you destroy an entire street,” I reminded him, thinking back about the destruction he’d caused in front of the café.
He grimaced ever so slightly. “Yes, but that’s not nearly as powerful as what you can do. For me, the more mortals sin, the greater my power.”
“So because you are lust, the king of sins—”
Ashton’s cheeks pinkened. “I am not the king of sin, but yes. Lust is the most dominant of the sins.”
“Right.” I bit back my twitching lips. “So because lust is the dominant sin, you are able to control air?”
“Exactly,” he said. “The greater the power flow into Luxuria, the greater the power the Sire wields.”
The drilling at my temples had increased and I was forced to grind my fingertips into my temples to smother the pain.
“Okay, so let me get this straight.” I dropped my hands into my lap. “I have control over all the elements?”
Ashton shook his head, his eyes taking on that gleam that always creeped me out just a bit. “Control over the elements is just the beginning. You are exactly what I predicted you would be—the key!”
“Please don’t call me that,” I begged.
Ashton inclined his head. “The one the prophecy speaks of, is gifted with powers over all elements. Over nature itself. But that’s not all. As you grow, so will your abilities. There will be nothing you can’t do, which is why it is so important that you stay hidden for the next week. Just until after the passing. But right now, our main focus needs to be Garrison and how to stop him.”
“Garrison!” I blurted without thinking. “It’s him!”
My outburst startled Ashton’s rant about my awesomeness. “What?”
I ignored the searing pain in my side as I pushed up higher on the pillows. “He’s building this army of … monsters, and he’s the one destroying things.”
“Fallon, slow down,” Ashton said sweeping around the bed to perch on the mattress next to me. “What are you talking about?”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly, willing myself to calm down. “Mom showed me,” I said. “In my dream. She’s in this weird limbo place where all of Garrison’s victims go after they die. There are these … creatures, there.” I wiped my sweaty palms over the sheets and meet Ashton’s gaze. “He’s done the most horrible things to them.”
I told them about the werebeasts and the automaton army. I told them about Lew and the injections. I even told them about Amalie.
I was out of breath by the time I was finished.
“He’s trying to fish me out,” I said. “I don’t think he knew I was still in B.C. I think he was hoping that if he caused enough commotion across the country, I would come out and get picked up by his Tracker.”
“Which you did when we tried to get into Alberta,” Isaiah said, shaking his head in frustration. “I should have realized it was a trap.”
“How could you have possibly known?” I said.
“How is this possible?” Ashton said at long last. His hazel eyes boring into mine, narrowed with confusion and something that scared me. “Why would Terrell’s daughter be in your dreams?”
My gaze flicked to Isaiah for just a second before I let it move back to the rest of the room.
“Because Amalie is me, or rather, I’m her,” I confessed. “Garrison used her DNA to make me after she died. At first, he was only cloning Isaiah, recreating him so he could torture and kill him again and again in some sick need for vengeance for falling in love with his daughter. Then when you gave him samples of your supernatural DNA, he saw it as an opportunity to create the ultimate weapon by using his daughter’s DNA. I look exactly like Amalie, except the hair and eyes.”
Ashton shook his head ever so slowly, like his brain wasn’t quite grasping the story I was painting. “Is that why you asked if I’ve ever seen pictures of Amalie?”
I nodded. “I thought you knew.”
“No!” he said sharply, lunging to his feet. “I had no idea.”
I sighed. “But that’s why he wants me so badly. There’s basically a clock inside me, counting down to when I will destroy the world.”
“And do you know how he will accomplish this task?” Ashton asked.
“There’s something in Isaiah’s blood that triggers the countdown,” I explained slowly.
“Can’t you, I dunno, not drink from him?” Archer suggested helpfully.
I shook my head. “Blood is how I live. If I don’t, I become that thing you saw the other day.”
“Can’t you take it from someone else? Like humans or something?”
“Human blood tastes like sour milk,” I said, remembering our escape from Garrison and how I had attacked two of his men. “I can’t keep it down. No, it has to be Isaiah.”
“What happens when you drink from him?” Ashton demanded, having gone unnaturally stiff and stone-faced.
“I don’t know. It’s been different each time.” I took in a gulp of air. I scratched my sweaty palm along the rough material of the motel comforter. “The way Garrison explained it was that we had these…” I glanced at Isaiah, hoping he remembered the correct term.
“Pheromones,” he supplied.
I nodded. “Right. Pheromones in our system that attracts the other, kind of like a drug. We become addicted to it and the more I drink from him, the more I want and the more I want…”
“What happens if you keep drinking from him?” Ashton asked.
I shrugged. “We don’t really know. Garrison said that the temptation would get stronger and stronger until the world saw The Amalie Project as it went up in smoke.”
“As the world went up in smoke?” Celia piped in, speaking for the first time.
I nodded. “I don’t know how it will happen. I don’t know if we’ll explode or what, but knowing Garrison, it will be bad.”
“I call bullshit.” Archer walked back to his chair and dropped into it. “You’re a sin, and not just any sin, you’re the daughter of the sin. Love, lust, desire, passion … they intertwine with everything humans do. Your legacy will never die. No stupid mortal can ever control you. This Garrison fellow has no idea what he’s talking about.”
“It’s true,” I interjected, annoyed that he was trying to make it sound like I was being paranoid for nothing. “I’ve drank from Isaiah twice now and each time the pull between us has gotten stronger. I can feel—”
“Because he put it in your head. The power of manipulation has been around for generations. Hitler. Manson. To name a few. Charisma is a powerful tool that humans are very good at wielding.”
“He’s not lying!” I shot back. “Have you seen what he’s done to my world? That is not a guy blowing smoke out of his ass.”
It was satisfying to see Archer snap his mouth shut. True satisfaction would have been to smack the arrogance off his face, but a verbal smack down was close enough.
Isaiah took my hand and gently squeezed, urging me to calm down. But I wasn’t done.
“And how did you not know something was up all this time?” I turned the full strength of my accusation on Ashton. “Didn’t it seem a little odd that Garrison wanted me so badly?”
Ashton’s eyes narrowed. “I knew why Garrison wanted you,” he said slowly. “Did I know he’d turned you into a ticking time bomb? No. But I knew why you were so important to him.” He leaned back into the dresser, where he folded his arms and crossed one ankle over the other. “He wanted you because of me, because of my blood that runs through your veins, because of my DNA. Do you have any idea the things he could do if he ever got his hands on it?”
“He’s already had his hands on it,” I reminded him. “He made me!”
“But I only gave him enough to create you, not a drop more. Oh, but he asked. After he learned what was in it—the possibilities—he came to me, tried to make me an offer. I turned him down. By then, Diana was pregnant. We didn’t need him any longer. But he tried. Every chance he got, he tried getting another sample. If not from me, from you. That’s when things escalated and your mother started asking questions.”
“So why did she blame Isaiah? He hadn’t done anything.”
“Because we used him as our blueprint to create you and in her mind, had it not been for his existence, we would never have needed Terrell.
“But she must have known,” I said. “She used to work for Garrison for crying out loud. How did she not know what sort of person he was?”
“Diana was a lab tech for one of Terrell’s more legal and reputable clinics. She was never granted access to the deep, underground experiments Terrell was doing, thus had very little contact with him. She never knew about Isaiah until I brought him home.”
“How did you get him from Garrison?” I wondered, although not for the first time.
Ashton sighed and pushed away from the dresser. “I think we have more important things to discuss—”
“Please,” I pressed.
He continued to look reluctant, like it was somehow an inconvenience to answer such a question. Finally, he lowered his head and shook it slowly from side to side.
“The person I had inside Terrell’s lab at the time contacted me to let me know Terrell was on his way to discarding Isaiah. That night, we broke in, took Isaiah and I brought him home. That’s all.”
I squinted at him. “You didn’t think it was a little too easy?”
Ashton sighed. “I have always known the children I took from Terrell were those he allowed me.” His gaze was somber when they burned into mine. “Terrell only tosses away those he will kill. The inconsequential ones. I can turn a blind eye, or I can do something. Now excuse me.”
I started. “Wait—”
He moved to the motel door and stepped out. The door shut with a deafening click behind him. I threw back the stiff comforter and struggled to climb out, to go after him.
“Leave him.” Celia unfolded her willowy silhouette from her seat and rose as gracefully as a swan. “This is not easy for him. Being here takes a lot out of him.”
Without another word to me, she raised her chin and followed Ashton from the room.
I looked to Archer when his chair creaked with the loss of his weight as he got to his feet. “What did I say?”
“You didn’t say anything,” he said simply. “Being topside is draining for Sires.”
“Kind of like how it felt heavy for me in Luxuria?” Isaiah asked.
Archer nodded. “We aren’t meant to be here for great lengths of time. It’s not so bad for me because I’m only an heir, but it’s excruciating for him, and he’s been here for three days.”
“But he lived here with my mother,” I pointed out.
“Only for short bursts of time,” Archer replied. “He would leave to return home, recharge and return.”
I shook my head. “That seems like a lot of work.”
“The crazy things one does in the name of love,” Archer said.
“I should see if he’s okay,” I decided.
I struggled to throw back the sheets. The movement was slow when every movement felt like getting stabbed all over again. But I gritted my teeth and managed to free myself just enough to be able to swing my legs over the mattress. I used to nightstand to take my weight as I granny-shuffled to my feet.
“Let me help you.” Isaiah took me by the wrist and shoulder and let me lean on him as I straightened.
“Okay, I think I can make it.”
“I would just let him have a minute,” Archer suggested as I hobbled to the door.
I twisted my head around, ready to ask why, when my knee bumped the chair some genius had placed next to the door. I stumbled over it, grabbing its armrests to steady myself, but the pain was astronomical.
“Fallon?” Isaiah grabbed me when I doubled over, clutching the slow burn between my ribs.
I waved him away. “I’m fine.”
“You should be in bed,” Isaiah said, his fingers tightening on my arm.
I was ready to agree with him, I even began to follow his lead towards the bed, when I felt the wet goo oozing from my body, dampening my t-shirt just above my wound.
“What…?” I drew my hand away and turned them towards the lit lamp next to the bed. The slime was green, not like snot, but jello, and it was sticky. “What is this?”
I pushed past Isaiah and shuffled into the bathroom, still demanding someone tell me what this was when I shut the door. I hiked up the shirt and twisted my body towards the mirror.
What should have been an ugly s
car with crass stitches making small X’s holding my flesh together was a thin, pink pucker about two inches long that looked weeks old. A pink flush colored the skin around it. Green goo crusted the shiny incision. It was leaking.
“God!” I grabbed a fistful of toilet paper and wet it under the faucet. I was dabbing at the slime when the door opened and Isaiah slipped inside. “What is this?” I asked him, twisting my torso so he could see. I didn’t even care I was standing there, shirt hiked up on one side, flashing him with my panties, which weren’t even flattering. But hell if that was important. I was oozing jello.
He hesitated for a full heartbeat before mumbling, “Celia’s venom?”
My eyes widened. “You’re not sure?”
“No … I mean, yes, I’m sure.” He scratched his forehead. “She had to close the cut.”
“She couldn’t use stitches? Or superglue? I’d even take duct tape over … wait.” I looked at him. “Did you say venom?”
He slipped his hands into the pocket of his cargo pants. “She’s wrath,” he reminded me. “Do you remember when Archer’s dad injected me with that venom?” At my nod, he continued. “Well, apparently for another sin, it has the power to heal.”
Okay so that was kind of cool.
“How did she do it?”
I suddenly had this image of Celia’s tail poking out from the hem of her skirt, curled like a scorpions.
His face lit up like he’d been waiting for me to ask. “It’s in their blood,” he said excitedly. “During a fight, their nails elongate and the tips are poisonous. That’s how Quain took me down.” He taped the side of his neck. “His guards snuck up behind me and pricked me before I could sense them. But the venom that comes from their nails is a deadly dose, even for a sin. Celia had to cut herself. Her blood is green!” he said, eyes wide and shining. “And she used her fingers to force the venom into the cut. It was the only way it would heal.”
Suddenly I was green. The thought of someone pushing poisonous fingers inside my body made my stomach roil.
Touching Fire (Touch Saga) Page 31
