Beyond Ecstasy (Beyond #8) (35 page)

The third cairn was for Noelle's father.

Hawk glanced across the fire at her. She still hadn't left the protective circle of Jas's arms, but some of the bleak uncertainty had faded from her eyes. Every last one of Hawk's brothers and sisters knew the miserable confusion of grieving a father who had caused you so much pain.

They'd help her find solace, and peace. They would understand if she cried and also if she didn't. Sometimes that was all it took, breaking free of everyone else's expectations.

“I'm so glad you decided to do this tonight.”

Hawk turned to Alya, who had come up to lean against Big John's car beside him. “Are you sure?”

“Hell, yes.” She slung an arm across his shoulders and pulled him into a half hug. Though her eyes were still rimmed with red, they were clear tonight. Alya was in leader mode, strong and resolute in the face of her people's grief and uncertainty. But there was joy there too—sincere pleasure—and Hawk had to wonder how much his solitary, determined existence had worried her over the years.

Probably more than he wanted to know.

“She's a good girl,” Alya said softly, watching as Jeni and Trix hugged Bethany, all three of them blinking back tears through their laughter over some story Bethany was telling. “She'll take care of you. That's all I ever wanted.”

“We'll take care of each other,” he countered.

She smiled. “Even better.”

“All right,” John said as he stepped into the middle of their loosely gathered circle. “Let's do this before I get so liquored up I can't see straight.” He peered down at the slim, leather-bound book in his hand, rubbed his eyes, then tossed the book over his shoulder. “Fuck it, I don't need it. Not for this.”

Alya nudged Hawk with her elbow. “Go get your girl.”

Hawk kissed his mother's cheek before pushing away from the car. Bethany nudged Jeni toward him, and for a second he felt as stunned as the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. The bright headlights lit her up from behind, just like the lights on the stage, but she wasn't dressed in her costumes and masks. She wasn't hiding.

She walked toward him, her simple sundress swaying in the night breeze. The necklace he'd given her circled her throat, the medallion resting over her clothes. Over her heart. His own heart pounded as hard as it had before his first race.

He caught her hand in his and turned to face John. “I've had about all I can stand of not being hers.”

“I hear that.” He straightened his shoulders. “Most things in this world don't last. They're made and eventually fall apart. Plants grow and wither. People are born, and then we—” His gravelly voice hitched. “Well, we die. It's just how things work. There's no start without a finish. No beginning without an end.”

Jeni squeezed Hawk's hand.

“The only exception, the one thing that never has to die, is love. It's what keeps us together when times are tough, what helps our people remember us when we're gone.” He glanced at Alya, so quickly Hawk could have blinked and missed it. “Love can last forever.”

Alya lifted her bottle in silent tribute. Around the circle, people echoed the gesture, raising flasks and tin cups and sometimes just their joined hands. Hawk's eyes burned as he clung to Jeni's hand…

And let go of the rest of his fear.

If he died next week, he'd want Jeni to go on. To hold him in her heart, to remember him with love, but to
keep living
. To do it for his sake, until eventually she wanted to live for herself again. Just like Shipp would be looking down from wherever he was, whispering to Alya to love him hard enough to love herself someday.

And if Alya had gone down fighting, she'd have wanted the same for Shipp. Just like Jeni would have wanted for Hawk.

That was all she'd meant that day in the workshop, the day he'd shut her down over and over again with his promises of the future. Not for him to say he'd had enough of her, but to promise she could be enough. That he'd love her every day like it was the only day that mattered, because they were fighting to fix a broken world. Putting his life on her shoulders, making his survival conditional to hers…

It was selfish. And they would both break under the strain of it.

He rubbed his thumb over hers and met her gaze. “I promise to love you. Wherever we go, whatever happens. In this life and anything that comes after it.”

Jeni touched the pendant around her neck. “Me too.”

John broke out in a huge grin. “Right on. Now go forth and multiply, or some shit.”

The crowd around them broke into laughter. Hawk did too, even as he hauled Jeni to him. She was smiling when he kissed her, her lips tilted up, and he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life kissing her while she was smiling.

“Congratulations,” she murmured against his mouth.

He pulled her closer. “That's right. Everyone should be congratulating me. I just married the best woman in the whole damn world.”

“I know better than to argue with that.”

Hawk kissed her again.

Alya's voice rose above the hoots of the crowd. “Enough, enough. You're scandalizing the babies.”

“The babies went to bed hours ago,” someone else shouted. “The rest of us are enjoying the show.”

Hawk broke away from Jeni with a fake scowl. “Who said that?”

Half a dozen people called out different names, and Alya smiled as she walked toward Hawk. Then she slipped her hand out of her pocket and held it out, and Hawk's heart kicked in his chest.

He recognized the keys. A simple set, with a tiny metal flag hanging from the ring. Just three bars of color—green, white, and orange. It'd been banged up over the years, the colors fading, scratches and dings marring the surface, but Hawk had seen those keys in Shipp's fist a thousand times.

“Alya, I can't—”

“Hush.” She jerked her head toward the far side of the circle. “Big John got her all cleaned up for you. Shipp would want it this way. I have too much damn work to do to go driving. She deserves to be with someone who'll love her like he did.”

He saw the pain under her joy. Maybe someday, when the loss didn't cut so deep, Alya would want that car back. Maybe she'd want the memories of all the times they'd disappeared for an evening drive. All the times they'd vanished for even longer.

Until she was ready, Hawk could take care of this part of Shipp's legacy. Lord knew his mother would have her hands full with the rest. “I'll take care of her.”

“I know you will.” She dumped the keys in his hand and dragged Jeni into a rough hug. “And you keep taking care of him.”

Jeni smiled, but she didn't reply until she was back at Hawk's side, her arm around his waist. “It's what I live for.”

After years of bitching and moaning, Dallas had finally developed an appreciation for technology.

The entire back wall of the meeting room had been converted into a constantly updating display of the battle lines they'd drawn around Sector Six. Without leaving the Broken Circle, he could watch the notations on the map shift when Cruz or Bren came up with fresh recon.

Eden was pulling back. Not into the city, but deeper into Sector Six. They'd established a buffer zone between Five and Six and were moving out now, no doubt trying to salvage anything left from the fires they'd finally gotten under control. From there, they'd go out and start picking off the communes.

They'd taken out the bridges on the west side of the reservoir, meaning Dallas and Ryder would have to get an army across a river to attack from the other side. If they tried, Eden could open the dam and dump the entire fucking reservoir on top of them.

Their stalemate had broken, but it could reform awful fast. No doubt Eden wanted it that way. Every day they spent digging into Sector Six would make it harder for Dallas to dig them the fuck back out. They'd be able to resupply the city, and the war of attrition could go on for months. Hell,
years
.

All of the rebellion's advantages would vanish if they let Eden get comfortable.

They couldn't let Eden get comfortable.

“Dallas? You wanted me?”

Dallas didn't turn away from the wall as Noah slipped into the conference room. The display updated again, revealing another piece of Eden's fortifications. “They're settling in for a nice long war over in Six.”

Noah came to stand next to him. “That wouldn't be good for us.”

“No, it wouldn't.” He glanced at the younger man and weighed what he was about to do. Noah had fallen into his lap so many months ago, a perfect weapon he'd had to hold patiently in reserve. With the hacker's access to Eden's network, Dallas could bring the city to its knees.

But he could only do it once. Thank fucking
God
he'd saved it for this. “We can't let them get comfortable.”

Excitement lit Noah's eyes. He flexed his fingers. “Are you saying…?”

“You're off the leash, Noah.” Dallas waved his hand over the tablet on the table. Five vanished, replaced with a rendering of the city. Tens of thousands of people lived crowded within those walls. Some of them were innocent. Some were pure, undiluted evil.

Dallas didn't have the luxury of keeping them all cozy anymore. “Shut them down. Start with the power grid. Let's see how those fancy motherfuckers like the dark.”

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Kit Rocha is the pseudonym for co-writing team Donna Herren and Bree Bridges. After penning dozens of paranormal novels, novellas and stories as
Moira Rogers
, they branched out into gritty, sexy dystopian romance. The
Beyond
series has appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, and was honored with a 2013 RT Reviewer's Choice award. Get updates about their new books by
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kitrocha.com

As always, our thanks have to start with the people who turn our manuscripts into books and keep us going: our editor, Sasha Knight; our proofreader, Sharon Muha; Lillie Applegarth, queen of timelines and bibles; our assistant, Angie Ramey; Jay and Tracy, the tireless mods who reign over the chaos at the Broken Circle; and our friends and family and raptors, all the people who hug us, poke us, kick us, pick us back up, and love us. Thank you all so much.

A special shout-out to the girls in the
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O’Kane for life.

Beyond Ecstasy

Copyright © 2016 by Kit Rocha

This novella is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.