“Never stop moving. And whatever you do, do not fall asleep.”
There he is again. Hard feelings punch my gut and I brace against them. Rhyen has been a thorn in my side since . . .
My chest heaves hypothetically.
Since I put him there.
Such is how my descent began, but this will not be the end. It takes all my mental capacity to rediscover the feeling in the legs of my soul. I rise in the darkness, placing one foot in front of the other like a toddler learning to walk. Keeping my gaze focused on my prize, my life, I commence to move forward.
Leaving my thorn behind.
ELEVEN
Ebony
How much longer?” Khloe tugs my jacket sleeve, bounces on what I’m convinced are spring-filled toes.
“Not much.” It’s the same thing I’ve been saying for the past hour. Doesn’t she know I want to get there as badly as she does? Pressure builds to the point I want to scream. But I can’t be frustrated with Khloe, can I? I’m just projecting my own anxiety onto her. Desire and dread clash, warring for my undivided attention. Dread for obvious reasons, and if you can’t figure them out, well, not my problem.
Then there’s the growing desire—scratch that . . . need.
I need this.
Sure, I made a valid argument for why a third group was necessary. But my motivations are of a selfish nature. I won’t even try to deny it. I can’t not find out who I truly am, where I actually come from. Am I Called or some sort of Halfling? Is that even a thing? Oh crowe, it is, isn’t it? I’m a mixed breed. A mutt. A castoff.
I’m precisely who my mother has always said I am.
“Really, Ebony, what is the matter with you? You are sixteen, yet you behave like an infant.”
And . . .
“Is that what you’re planning to wear, dear? Honestly, I will never understand why you continue to pretend to be someone you are not.”
And . . .
“I’ve had quite enough, Ebony. You may have fooled yourself into believing it is me you are angry with, but the truth is you simply loathe yourself.”
Though I didn’t know she was immortal then, I see it in retrospect. In Isabeau’s dismissive hand wave. In the way she owned whatever space she filled. My mother was—is—untouchable. Year after year came jab after pointed jab. But what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right? I won’t wallow in self-pity. Not my style. I can rock the X-Men thing. Watched the movie with El once. Totally worth it, B-T-dubs. Those mutants can kick some serious butt.
I slow my pace and Khloe shadows me. What if I don’t take the others? What if I simply get “lost,” then venture out on my own? Would anyone notice? Besides Khloe, I mean. If I can get her distracted, it could be quite easy to disappear. My biggest issue is Ky’s group checks. He keeps glancing back from his position at the front, lips moving in silence. Oh yeah. And don’t forget Preacher. Mr. I’ll-Circle-Everyone-Like-a-Hawk-’Cuz-I’ve-Got-Nothing-Better-to-Do.
Drat you, Rhyen. I don’t need to be counted or babysat. You get the whole loner thing better than anyone. We both served Jasyn. Both know what it’s like to go rogue.
Tide squeezes between Khloe and me. His arm brushes mine, and I curse my decision to wear long sleeves despite the chill.
My sister makes a face at him, then moves to my left side. When she sticks out her tongue, he does the same back to her.
Verity, help us. This is who I’m expected to take with me? If El were here, she’d at least balance this insanity. Maybe alone is my best option. These two may be immature, but they’re the closest thing I have to family. Am I so selfish I would risk hurting them?
“Not so fast.” Tide takes my hand, forcing me to keep pace with Khloe and him.
I draw up my eyebrows and jerk my hand away. “What?” Why are my words and actions forever the opposite of how I think and feel? Can I get a do-over, please?
He shoves both hands into his shorts pockets.
Now look what you’ve gone and done, Ebony. You’re never getting that hand back now.
“I know that look,” he muses. “You’re thinking of running.”
Eye roll. “Whatever. You don’t know me.” Except the more time I spend with him, I see he so does. Why must I go on the defense? Every. Single. Time?
“Don’t do it.” It’s Khloe’s shot to share her eleven years’ worth of wisdom. “You need us.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to say in fact, no, I don’t need anybody. But I bite my words so hard they bleed into the back of my throat.
“The kid’s right.” Now it’s Stormy who chimes in. “Kuna would agree if he were here.”
The Magnet and I are practically strangers, but can I just say her pixie-cut hair is on point? And the color. Neon suits her well. I think it was purple the last time I saw her. Now it’s pink, and is that glitter?
Khloe links her arm through Stormy’s. If Tide or I had called her “kid,” she would’ve gotten all bent out of shape. But for some reason that is totally beyond me, she takes Stormy’s comment as a compliment.
Fickle, fickle.
Tide elbows me, his grief only perceptible in the slight sadness rimming the corners of his almond eyes. Those beautiful, captivating, almond eyes.
Back up. You can fall in love later. If you’re still alive then.
“Listen.” He takes my hand once more, this time with more caution. And this time I don’t pull away. “We’re here for you. We’re in this and we aren’t going anywhere. If you want to bolt now, I’m with you. But can I give my honest opinion?”
Of course you can. Anything to watch those gorgeous lips move.
Oh, gross. No sir. I will not be that girl.
“Fine.” Silence. That’s all I have. Dead silence. I can do this on my own, no problem.
But should I?
“I spent a lot of years pretending I didn’t need anyone.” Tide’s hand squeezes mine. His dark skin contrasts against my alabaster tone. Perfection. “But it takes a real man to recognize vulnerability is a strength, not a weakness. And the same goes for you. Let the act go, lower the wall, and let people in.”
Khloe links her arm with mine now but says nothing. From the corner of my eye, I catch her ear-to-ear grin. Okay, we get it, you little ham. You agree with Tide and your new girl bestie. Tide is wise and all-knowing. Stormy is cool and styling. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
But then we walk faster to catch up with the group. And I know thinking is long gone.
TWELVE
Pretending
I am aware of your presence. Concealing your whereabouts is futile.” Young Jasyn exhales, closes the door, and flips the lock in that ever-meticulous way of his. “Come now, child. Divulge your secret.”
My heart pounds wildly, a staccato note ready to burst from my throat. One day away from my family feels like an eternity as I stand helpless before a ghost from my past. I palm my chest, hoping the added pressure will force the beats to slow. “What secret?” I rasp into the darkness. Does he know who I am? Can he sense I contain the Verity the same as Aidan? He can’t. No way.