Ablaze (Indestructible Trilogy Book 2) (14 page)

The others.
I was an idiot. I never should have come. I let my guilt over leaving Cas cloud my judgement, and my error might cost us the war.

The fiend breathes slowly. It hasn’t noticed me yet. I have only one chance to strike it, but I can’t seem to move. Sweat covers my body. I have to win this.
Have to get out.

I call the fire. Leap forward. But the fire doesn’t come, and the fiend’s heavy body smacks into me like a falling boulder, sending me flying. Air rushes past, and I hit the wall with a crash that shakes the whole room. My ears ring, and I can’t get breath into my lungs. Pain blossoms from my chest. Cracked ribs.

Thud.
The fiend stamps down, shaking the walls, and I slide to the ground, gasping in pain.

I inch sideways, along the wall, fast as I can. Each step sends shooting pain through my ribs, and my legs are wobbly. I curse the darkness. I curse Jared. Anything to distract from the pain, and, worse, the panic clawing at me. The claustrophobic sensation of being trapped in darkness.

Something leathery scrapes my legs. The fiend’s wing. It’s close. I’ve not moved far enough away. Pushing aside the pain, I force my legs into motion.

A fist comes out of the darkness and knocks the breath from my lungs. I slam into the wall again, feeling the bones shake in my body.

I’m reminded of a battle with two fiends in an abandoned house. But this time, Cas won’t come in to save me. Not with that gate between me and escape.

I can’t breathe.

I thought you said you weren’t going to give up. That you’d fight back. Whatever the case.

But I never planned for this. Never planned to be in a sick game, pitted against a monster for sport at the whims of a madman.

Smack.
Blood fills my mouth as it hits my nose, breaking it. I strike back, feebly, but miss. Growing weaker. A red haze covers my vision. The claws swipe again, catching my face and my left arm.

Fire. FIRE!

Why can’t I do it?

What did he do to me?

Or is it me? Am I losing my powers?

The cold from the wall soaks into my skin. I barely feel the next punch. My legs give out, and a ringing sounds in my ears. Hazy images play before my eyes. Cas, as a child, chained in a cage with a monster and made to fight to the death.

I can’t feel anything but my own pain. It’s all I am.

I scream. A hoarse, ragged scream, like I’m being torn apart inside, to match the outside. I wish I could fade away to darkness, away from the pain. But I can’t. I’m still here, and every second stretches into agony.

Then the fist connects with my skull. I hear something vital crack, and finally, blessed numbness takes me away.

***

Not for long enough. Bright lights collide with my face, and I whimper, trying to raise my arm to shield myself. But I can’t move.

It feels like there’s a clawed beast inside me, shredding me from the inside out, but I know it’s by body trying to repair itself, pulling itself back past the point of death. I’m broken, but mending, and the mending hurts more than the breaking. Nothing outside exists. Only the pain. Pain and bright lights.

Time drifts by in waves. Every breath comes a little easier, every movement is less painful. Why is life so addictive, every breath like a drug, when the flipside is pain beyond pain? I wish I could have one without the other. But the same breath that hurt so much now is like blissful oblivion.

I’m lying on a soft bed. The lights above my head are garishly bright after the darkness.

No one’s holding me. I’m alone.

Sometime later, I manage to sit up. It’s true. I’m back in my bedroom. Did Jared get me out of the room? It couldn’t have been anyone else, unless Cas—but Jared would have punished him for interfering if he’d dared. I didn’t detect any pain from him, but then, I was too wrapped up in my own.

I shudder, wrapping my arms around myself. It’s only then that I notice the clean clothes lying out on the bed. The ones I’m wearing are half-shredded, soaked in blood. My blood.

Was that the plan? To see how far he could push me? So what was the deal with shutting off the lights? Maybe to intimidate me, make me lose confidence in my own power.

I have to find Cas.

It’s not the first time I’ve nearly died at the hands of the fiends. But the helplessness of being shut in the dark clings to me like slime.

How did Cas grow up like that without going mad?

I sure as hell don’t feel Transcendent now.

***

It’s about an hour before Jared shows up. He smiles at me, as though this is a friendly social call. Not a sadist visiting his victim.

“Glad to see you’re recovering, Leah.”

It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to throw myself at him and gouge his eyes out. I settle for looking down at myself, like I’m also surprised to see I’m in one piece. Again.

“You’re an admirable fighter, as always, and you’ve given the other Transcendents something wonderful to aspire to.”

If they could even see me in the dark.

“Of course, it’s a pity about the power cut, but it worked out conveniently for all of us. Time is of the essence, after all.”

Liar!

“You almost beat Cas’s lifetime record, Leah. Your regenerative powers are astonishing.”

He pulls a chart from inside his coat with his one working hand. “Bone regrowth. Time taken: an hour. Remarkable. Beyond even the artificial Pyros. Beyond even Cas. You’re unique, Leah.” He puts the papers away. “I’ve yet to see conclusive results with the other Transcendents, but I’m hopeful. Very hopeful. Thank you.”

Go burn in hell.

I don’t say anything aloud. I can’t even look at the man who chillingly let me be beaten to death.

“I won’t trouble you any further, Leah. I’ll let you get some rest.”

And he leaves. Just like that.

I wait, listening to his footsteps outside, clacking on the stone floor. Heading back to torment someone else.

I wait ten minutes, until I’m absolutely certain he’s gone, before I scream. I throw myself forward and pummel the wall, hard, so hard my fist leaves a deep dent in it. I barely draw breath, my scream turning into something wild, animal, inhuman. I hit the wall again, even though the damage shows, he’s sure to notice, and yet I don’t care.

I give myself over to rage and fury.

A guard peers through the door, snapping me back to reality. Hell. Will he—it, whatever—tell Jared? I’m not sure the guards can even speak. Or the Transcendents, actually. Like Jared’s stolen their voices away. Maybe it’s the blood-manipulation, maybe it’s the drugs. Does he still think he has
my
life in his hands? I suppose he does, considering what he just did.

And that was my punishment. I’m pretty sure of it.

But it’s far from over. He’s still running tests on the other Transcendents. It’s part of a long process.

One that can only end in our deaths.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The next morning, I’m still intact, and I’m not set for punishment today. Jared gives me free rein, with the understanding that I don’t stray more than two corridors past the training hall. I guess he doesn’t want me wandering too far off again.

I wonder how he even knew where I was last time. Though it was Cas who brought me back.

Speak of the devil…

He’s
here.
In the training hall. Throwing knives at a target, not looking at me. Not that I’m about to let that put me off. Ignoring all the other Pyros training in pairs throughout the hall, I march over to him and say, without preamble, “We need to talk.”

“Not now,” he says, out of the corner of his mouth. “Did I not tell you to wait?”

A sour taste fills my mouth. “How long? Until he has me beaten again?”

The words are too quiet for anyone else to hear. But Cas’s spine stiffens. He turns his back on the dummies, and strides from the hall. I have to hurry to keep up. He doesn’t slow until we’re two corridors away, with blank stretches of wall either side.

“I thought he threatened you. I didn’t think…” He shakes his head, his face a mirror of my own anger and pain. It doesn’t look right on him.

“Oh, he did more than threaten me.” The anger returns, blazing hot, and Cas is right in the firing line. “I couldn’t use my powers. Didn’t have to do with what he had you inject me with, did it?”

His brow furrows in confusion. “I didn’t. That was your own blood I put in the formula. I didn’t know what else to do. It was that or use mine, and I didn’t want to give him any more leverage.” He moves his hand slightly, and I glimpse the new mark on his wrist.

Why else did my powers stop working? “I was trapped,” I say. “With one of the fiends.”

I have to lean on the wall to steady myself. The thick, urgent panic claws at my throat again. No, maybe he didn’t control me. It was my own fear that broke my powers. Fear of dying without saving the others. Fear of what my blood created. The Transcendents.

Cas’s expression shifts from confusion to shock. He shakes his head. “He didn’t—”

“Yeah, he did. I think he was measuring me up against the other Transcendents. Or the other way around. But he got a kick out of watching me suffer. Not that I’m surprised.”

Cas’s eyes go wide. “Other Transcendents? What?”

He doesn’t know. Of course not. Jared only showed me, because he wanted to prove a point. Or because he wanted to shock Cas later. I’ve no idea how his mind works.

“Yeah, other Transcendents. Twelve of them.”

Cas’s gaze darts about, refusing to look me in the eyes. “He didn’t.”

My throat’s dry. “Don’t worry, he used my blood, not yours.” The words are drenched in bitterness.

“I don’t—you think I feel guilty about
that?
Leah, he tortured you.”

A lump rises in my throat as he speaks my name, and I feel like I’m about to unravel, like the healing my body’s undergone might come undone.

I meet his eyes. “I know what he did to me. But he also used my blood to make himself twelve slaves. He’s torturing them right now, doing the same thing he did to me yesterday. The same he did to you.”

His eyes blaze. “So he did decide it was worth the risk.” His breath catches on the last word. “That means one thing: he thinks we’ll make an attack. Soon. He wouldn’t risk using your blood to make an army unless he was certain we’d be marching against an invasion anyway.”

“How soon?” My heart sinks. I never thought I’d ever be ready, but how could I ever lead an army like this? Unless he doesn’t expect me to. Unless…

“No idea. I can’t imagine he’d see an advantage in keeping quiet, considering we’re supposed to lead the army. That is, unless he sees us as expendable now.”

Is Cas reading my thoughts? With those other Transcendents, I technically
am
expendable. All he needs is my blood. Or theirs. Does it have the same effect? Can he keep multiplying his army forever?
What have I done?
I brought my cursed blood right here, and let Jared use it for himself.

I shake my head. “No…”

“Well, what, then? Running away didn’t work out for you, did it?” Cas presses a hand to his forehead, like it hurts him. The mark stands out, red as blood. “That was downright
stupid
of you. I can’t always be around to watch your back.”

“I never asked you to!” I say, bristling. “In case you’ve forgotten, I came to save your damn neck from Jared. I didn’t need anyone to protect me then, and I don’t now.”

“Yeah, that worked out great,” he shoots back. We’re back to trading insults. But part of me knows he’s right. I messed this up. Massively. “Lucky we
are
preparing for the invasion, and that you’re so valuable to him. You don’t even want to know what he did to one of the other Pyros who attacked him.”

I swallow. “Someone really did that?” And am I valuable to him now I’m just one of thirteen?

“He’s a psychopath. Of course someone would object. Pity it didn’t work.” He moves his hand down, gripping the tattooed palm.

“Why didn’t he mark me like that?” I ask, calming. I don’t want to fight. Not now.

“No clue. After I brought you back from the caves, he told me to hook you up to the IV, said he wanted to keep a special eye on you. But he never touched you. Granted, he was bleeding all over the place at the time, but still.”

“He’s done the same thing to the others,” I say. “It’s like mind control.” I shiver at the memory, and knowing what he’s doing to them now. Just because they’re under his control doesn’t mean they don’t feel pain.

“Blood control,” he says. “Impulse control, and total domination. The guards are under it, too. They can’t even speak without his permission.”

“So this is how he’s running his army.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how those twelve fit into it. I wonder if he’s training them as assassins. What did they look like?”