Wings

“You promised me, Ash!” I yell. “You promised I’d be the one who gets to do it.”

“You’re not a killer, Natalie,” Ash says.

“I shot that scientist woman in the Tenth,” I say, kicking his shins.

“That was self-defense; this is murder,” Ash grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding me.

“He deserves it,” I yell, tears streaming down my cheeks. “You weren’t there; you didn’t see what they did to her.”

I picture a red room and Polly’s frozen body curled up in a ball on the metal floor.

They cut her up.

I remember the bruises on her thighs.

He deserves this.

I can still see her empty gray eyes gazing up at me. Eyes the same color as his.

He’s her father, a softer voice whispers in my head.

He tortured her! He forced Mother to choose between us!

And Polly forgave her for doing that, the voice replies. She didn’t hold a grudge. That wasn’t her way.

I release the knife and it clatters to the ground. I stop struggling, and Ash lets me go.

Rose quirks an eyebrow at me.

“This isn’t what my sister would have wanted,” I say. “Unlike you, she had a good heart. She believed in forgiveness. So that’s how I’m going to honor her memory.” I hold Purian Rose’s gaze for a long moment and try to see the boy he once was. Things would have turned out so differently if he’d been more like his daughter. “I forgive you, Edmund.”

His mouth twitches slightly.

There’s a knock at the door, and one of the guards enters.

“It’s time,” he says.

I look at my watch. It’s nearly noon. I take one last look at the man on the bed. He glowers at me, then turns his gaze toward the blank wall. His hand grips the circle pendant around his neck.

Without another word, I take Ash’s hand and we leave the room. Day, Beetle and the others are waiting for us in the lobby. Everyone is somber as we walk outside and join the chanting spectators in the plaza. The air is electric as we take our place beside the stage. Ash’s fingers tighten around mine. I glance up at him. His sparkling black eyes are focused on the cross in front of us, his lips a pale line. I know he’s thinking about his own crucifixion a few months ago. His gaze shifts toward me and I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

The crowd suddenly erupts into boos and jeers, and I peer over my shoulder. Purian Rose is being brought to the stage by a group of guards, his hands bound in front of him, his chin defiantly lifted. He catches my eye as he’s led up platform steps. There’s no remorse in them. Only fear. He turns to face the cross.

• • •

Purian Rose died at exactly 12:08. The execution was swift, his death mercifully quick. It’s over. I turn away from the cross as his burnt body is removed, and look up at Ash. His expression is blank, unreadable.

“What do we do now?” I say.

Ash gazes down at me. “We go home to Black City.”

36.

NATALIE

A FEW HOURS LATER we’re on a luxury Miniport back to Black City, along with my parents, Dr. Craven, Day, Beetle, Evangeline and Elijah. Roach, Sigur, Lucinda and Yolanda stayed in Centrum to deal with any coalition business during our absence. Evangeline’s head is on Elijah’s lap. She’s been silently crying the whole way here, mourning the loss of her heartbeat and Blood Mate for a second time in her life, but even so, she’s holding up better than I thought she would. I suspect Elijah’s had something to do with that. They’ve been getting close these past two weeks. It’s not a combination I would have put together, but looking at them now, I realize it’s a good fit. Elijah smiles softly down at her as he strokes her black hair.

Our plan is to set up the new regional office in Black City where the Sentry headquarters used to be. A crew of builders has already been sent ahead of us to start renovations. My parents will stay for a few weeks to oversee the project, then return to Centrum while the rest of us stay here. Once we’re settled, we’ll send for Day’s family—Michael, Sumrina and MJ—who are in the Northern Territories, and bring them back to Black City. It’ll be hard to see my parents go, but I know they’re needed in Centrum, and I don’t want to live there. This is where I want to build my life with Ash. I take his hand and smile at him. He rubs his fingertip over my blue diamond engagement ring.

The Miniport swoops over the remains of Black City, following the path of the Boundary Wall, which slices through the city like a concrete spine. We’re flying so low, I can make out the tattered posters on the wall—they’re all pictures of Phoenix, the boy who rose from the ashes.

All around us the Cinderstone buildings glow like embers in the fire. The giant digital screens that once adorned the rooftops now lie broken on the cobbled streets, which are coated in a thick layer of ash. Black smoke spirals into the gray sky. I glance at Day and Beetle, who are sitting opposite me. They’re grinning, and I know how they feel.

We’re finally home.

The pilot lands the aircraft on Bleak Street, outside the former Sentry headquarters, where I used to live with my mother. It’s an elegant, white marble building—at least, it was. Part of the west wing has started to collapse and is being held up with scaffolding, but the builders assured us it’s safe to live in. We all go inside. Everything looks familiar and yet different. I think it’s because there aren’t any guards marching about, or any Sentry ministers scurrying to meetings with my mother. The place was always heaving with activity. Or maybe it’s because Polly and Martha aren’t here, and without them, it doesn’t feel the same.

“I’ll quickly check the rooms,” Father says, heading down the corridor.

“I’m going to the laboratory,” Dr. Craven says, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. The laboratory is his pride and joy, and the place he probably thinks of as home more than any actual house. It’s the first time I’ve seen him happy since his son tried to kill him.

The rest of us go to the dining room—a warm, red room with a massive oak table, a huge fireplace and stuffed animal heads adorning the wall.

“Who wants some supper?” Mother says.

My eyebrows shoot up. That’s the first time she’s ever offered to make dinner.

“I happen to be a very accomplished cook,” Mother says, clearly offended.

She sweeps into the kitchen and we all take our seats at the table. Father joins us when Mother returns a short while later with some sad-looking sandwiches, a few apples, and glasses of Synth-O-Blood for Ash and Evangeline.

“The rooms are all clear. I found a sleeping bag, but the squatter’s gone. We should probably get the alarms up and running as soon as possible, though, just to be safe,” Father says, sitting down and warily eyeing Mom’s dinner. “This looks wonderful, dear.”

I cough, trying to disguise my laugh. Father shoots me a warning look, which only makes me laugh harder. We heartily tuck into our meal, the conversation flowing. Dr. Craven pops in briefly to get a bite to eat before hurrying back down to the laboratory. During dinner, Ash takes my hand under the table, giving it a squeeze, as Father regales us with funny stories about his childhood. It’s so strange and wonderful being here. I look at all the smiling faces around me: Sentry, Workboot, Darkling, Bastet. A few weeks ago we were enemies, and now we’re having dinner together. I never thought this would be possible in my lifetime. I wish Polly were still alive to see this. Grief spills through me. I scrape back my chair.

“You okay?” Ash asks.

I nod, kissing his cheek. “I just need to use the bathroom.”

I head upstairs. The sound of everyone’s laughter fades away the higher up I go, muffled by the soundproofing between the floors. It’s completely silent in the penthouse. Eerily so, in fact. I wrap my arms around myself, holding back a shiver as I stroll down the hallway. I walk past my mother’s office, then by Sebastian’s bedroom—he used to live with us, since he was my bodyguard. I reach the white door leading into Polly’s room and turn the handle.

I’m disappointed to see that her room has been completely emptied. No furniture, no paintings, no rugs. Every last memory of my sister has been wiped from this place. All that remains are the dimples in the carpet where the furniture once stood. I recall seeing Sebastian and Garrick loading a bunch of antiques onto the train that Ash, Elijah and I escaped on during the evacuation of Black City, and realize that’s what he was taking. I didn’t recognize the furniture at the time, but I was running for my life.

I pad toward my bedroom, although I don’t know what I expect to find. The door creaks as I open it. Surprisingly, my bedroom is the same as it always was, apart from the cracked plaster on the walls—the only sign of damage from the explosions that ripped through the city.

All my white furniture is still in place, the gilt-framed mirror still hangs above the dresser, and my cat-scratched rug is still on the plush carpet, hiding a bloodstain where Evangeline killed my kitten, Truffles, several months ago. Why did he leave my belongings and take everyone else’s? Maybe he didn’t want my things. I frown, a little offended. My stuff isn’t that bad. I run my fingers over the soft sheets that cover my double bed. A floorboard creaks behind me.

I turn, expecting to see Ash. He probably sensed I was feeling blue earlier and came to comfort me. “Hey, I was just taking a look around—”

My words get trapped in my throat.

Standing in the doorway is Sebastian.

I’m too shocked to scream. His condition has deteriorated since I last saw him. His skin is sallow and slick with sweat, his lips are pale, and his eyes are bright silver. He’s holding a sword in his shaking hand.

“I wondered if you’d come back,” he says.

“What are you doing here?” I say, my eyes fixed on the weapon.

“I came to die, of course. This is my home,” he says. “By the way, the next time your father searches a property, he should really check the roof as well. He’s losing his touch.”

So that’s how my dad missed him. Sebastian must have seen us arrive and snuck up onto the roof, knowing my father would search the rooms. He moves closer and panic bubbles up inside me. I try to think of ways to get out of here since he’s blocking the doorway. My best chance of escape is via the balcony.

“You’re ill, Sebastian. You need help,” I say, taking a step back.

“I’m beyond help,” he replies, edging closer.

“Your father’s downstairs,” I say, trying to keep him distracted. “He can fix you.”

“No one can fix me!”

I take another step back, and my legs hit the bed. I’m trapped.

“Ash!” I yell.

“He can’t hear you,” Sebastian replies in a singsong voice. “No one can.”

“I can take care of you,” I babble. “You don’t have to go through this alone—”

“Don’t act like you care!” he yells, thrusting the sword at me.

I flinch and fall back against the bed, landing heavily on the mattress. Sebastian’s on top of me before I can blink, the blade pressed against my throat. He stinks of body odor, decay and Shine. Memories of the last time we were together on this bed flash through my mind. He tried to rape me then, and I won’t let it happen this time. I bring my knee up, catching him in the groin. He gasps, rolling off me, and I scramble toward the door.

I’ve barely reached the corridor before he catches up with me and grabs me around the waist. I cry out as he slams me facedown into the floor. The weight of his body crushes me, pinning me to the ground. It’s impossible to move. Terror rushes through my veins.

“Ash, help me!” I scream.

“He’s not coming,” Sebastian taunts. “He can’t hear you.”

Tears stream down my cheeks, knowing he’s telling the truth.

Sebastian presses the tip of the sword between my shoulder blades.

“No! Oh God, please don’t do this,” I beg. “Please let me go, please, please, please.”

“You sound just like Polly,” he whispers into my ear. “Right before I killed her.”

No! “ASH! HEL—”

He plunges the blade into my back.

37.

ASH

I DROP MY GLASS of Synth-O-Blood as a sharp pain rips through my chest, like a knife piercing my heart. The blood splashes over the oak dinner table. Everyone stops talking, startled.

“Mate, you okay?” Beetle says.

I shake my head, gasping for breath. My heart is stuttering erratically.

Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom.

Only one thing could be causing this. Natalie. I groan, pushing back my chair, and stumble out of the dining room in search of her. Beetle and Day catch up with me halfway up the stairs.

“What’s up?” Beetle says.

“My chest hurts,” I grunt.

Day’s eyes widen with alarm, understanding.

I groan and clutch my chest as another sharp pain slices through my heart.

“Natalie!” I cry out.

Ba-boom . . . ba-boom . . .

We reach the top of the stairs. The scent of blood hits me first. Hot, fresh, tangy. The blood stretches across the floor, a crimson streak, reaching out to touch my boots. I try to rein back my panic. We follow the trail around the corner and that’s when I see her, facedown on the floor, her blond curls spilling around her shoulders. Sebastian Eden is straddling her back, his hands clasped around the hilt of a sword. The blade is buried deep between her shoulders.

“No . . .” I exhale. “No . . . no . . . no . . .” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">