Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy (10 page)

“It
was just you and an inconsequential gathering of teenagers before, but that’s
changed. You’ve gain sympathizers, and if I come after you they will raise hell
for me. Civil war will erupt within the Guardians, and you and I both know that
the devastation will spill out to the public. Then I’ll have civilians
attacking Guardians in retribution. You may think I’m a monster, but I’d rather
avoid the death tolls an uprising of that magnitude will bring. It’s one more
year. Don’t come near one of my people again, and I’ll do the same.”

“I
don’t believe you would do that. You want me to put my guard down so you can
kill me in secret.”

He
laughs. His condescending chuckle infuriates me. “Miss Sparks, when I kill you,
I have no intention of doing it secretly.”

I
want to reach through the phone and strangle him, but there’s an honest
conviction in his voice. He wants my death to be a spectacular crowning achievement
for his legacy of brutality, just like Mr. Walters said he would. Nothing else
will keep him from being drug out of his office and obliterated by his
brothers. He’ll wait. My stomach roils as the words form in my mouth. Actually
speaking them nearly makes me vomit. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“You
stay away from me. I’ll stay away from you,” he says, “until the day you turn
eighteen. One year and two weeks. That’s really not so long to wait, now, is
it?”

“Depends
on how you look at it,” I say through my teeth.

“Well,
I always have been a bit of an optimist,” Howe says. “I know I’m a little
early, Miss Sparks, but happy birthday. Only one more to go.”

The
line disconnects and I fling the phone back at Lance. He catches it
effortlessly, more attention focused on me than his grab. “What was all that
about?”

It
takes me a moment to calm my desire to break people in half and spin the
conversation with Howe in the most positive light I can. You would think my
impending death would make that hard, but that’s old news to me. Howe’s offer
showed more than how arrogant he is. “The Guardians are more scared and
fragmented than I thought. President Howe just offered me a truce and I took
it. We leave him and his lackeys alone until I turn eighteen, and he’ll do his
best to keep his competitors from killing me.”

Not
that there’s any chance this truce will last that long, but it does give me the
break I need. I let everyone in the room take a deep breath and consider the
idea of not being hunted for a few seconds. The emotional temperature of the
room cools as they think. All except for the little bundle of simmering rage in
the corner. Hope. She doesn’t seem thrilled with the deal at all. She looks
even more revved up than before. I get the distinct impression she isn’t
thinking about taking a break. She wants to keep planning.

“What
did my grandpa tell you?” Hope asks, her harsh voice slicing through the
momentary silence. The instant of relief dissipates immediately.

I
look over at her slowly. She’s so angry. She has every right to be, but I
seriously hope she calms down soon. I get myself into enough trouble without
having a loose cannon strapped to my leg. The truce with Howe can only last so
long with the plans I have for kidnapping a Seeker, but I need at least a
little time to breathe and think. She’s not going to let up, though, so I
answer her question.

“Your
grandpa told me that the prophecy the regular Guardians have about me isn’t
complete. We need to find a Seeker so I can get the rest of the prophecy. He
also said the Guardians can turn Ciphers into something worse than Sihirs,
which we also need a Seeker to find out more about.” As an afterthought, and
really just to myself, I add, “And he also said this wasn’t the first time I’ve
been betrayed. He told me to remember the last stanza.”

Lance
is the only one close enough to hear me. His questioning look makes me shrug. I
don’t know why I even mentioned it. The last stanza of the prophecy talked
about someone trying to take everything from me and failing, and that I would
learn the secret of their betrayal. It also said I would learn the value of
destruction and turn it against the Guardians. I definitely plan on destroying
them, but I have no idea what the rest of it means. Yes, I’ve been betrayed
several times, Mr. Walters the most recent. But what have I learned from any of
those experiences that will help me? I don’t know.

The
conversation in the room has moved on without me, I realize, turned toward how
and when to try capturing a Seeker so I can poke around in his head. They’re
discussing whether we should try to catch one here or go to a compound
somewhere else like I did in Canada. Milo and Hammond think we should do it
here, since not only are there plenty to choose from, but with the chaos I left
at the compound they may be distracted enough to slip up and make it easier on
us. Lance wants to travel somewhere else because he thinks it will be safer.
Plus, he really likes taking the jet. He doesn’t say that, but I know it’s
true. I let them argue for a few more minutes while I try to decide what my own
opinion on the matter is.

A
sudden banging on the door silences everything. My eyes dart from Lance to the
door and back. Please, not yet.

“Libby,”
Braden calls through the door, making my heart lurch. “Libby, please don’t open
the door. Please don’t. Get out of there, now. Run. Please.”

I
start to move, but Lance grabs my arm. His fingers dig into my skin, but I can
barely feel it. Milo jumps up from his chair with murder in his eyes. Lance
doesn’t fail me. He abandons holding me back and practically tackles Milo. They
struggle as I walk toward the door. I can feel Braden’s life force pulsing so
close. It feels like ages since I’ve felt it this strongly. The familiar
thrumming threatens to break me.

“Braden,
are you alright?” I ask.

I
can hear him growl at me in frustration. “I’m fine, but you’re not. Get out of
there! You know why I’m here, Libby. Leave!”

Milo
almost breaks free of Lance, but Dean has joined in the effort to keep him
restrained.

“You’ll
just come after me again,” I say to Braden.

“Go
where I can’t find you,” he begs. “Make it hard for me. Don’t just sit in there
and wait. Please, Libby, go before I hurt you.”

My
heart breaks. He’s pleading, begging me to run from him. All I want is to see
him again, make sure he’s okay.

“We
can get her into the garage and make a run for it,” Milo growls at Lance.

“No,”
I snap. “I’m not leaving.”

Milo
uses a burst of Strength to get far enough out of his captors grip to grab my
arm. He scowls at me and yanks me toward him. “The hell you’re not. Lance, let
go of me! Help me get her to the car!”

Milo
always forgets how strong I am. I pull my arm from his grip with little effort.
“I’m not leaving, Milo.”

“He’s
going to kill you!” Milo says through his teeth.

“He’s
going to try, but he’s not going to do it,” I correct. Milo stares at me. My
hands start shaking at my sides. I won’t run. “Milo, I if run now, he’ll just
follow me, and like Mr. Walters’ wife, one day he’ll catch up to me when no one
else is around. Maybe I can hold him off on my own, or maybe I can’t. If I face
him right now, at least I’m not alone. At least I can try to stop him knowing
you’re here to back me up if it doesn’t work.”

None
of those reasons are what really matter to me, but Milo doesn’t look like he’s
going to give me a chance. I turn to Lance for help. He grimaces, but holds
Milo in check.

My
real reason for staying, I love Braden and I can’t run away from him. I have to
believe I can stop him from killing me. I’m the most powerful person in the
world. My gaze slides from Milo back to Lance. Our eyes lock, and a silent
agreement passes between us. I may be the most powerful person in the world,
but I can’t do everything. One thing I know I can’t do is kill Braden. If I can’t
stop him, Lance will do it for me. My lower lip starts to tremble as I turn to
face the door.

Daniel
stands to open the door, but I won’t let him. I cross the floor and grip the
door knob in my hand without turning. I can feel him. I can feel his heartbeat,
his love, his pain, his desire to rip me apart. If I turn the doorknob, the
moment will shatter, maybe forever.  Most likely forever. I just want to stand
here and feel him. He can feel me, too. He’s touching the door, frozen between
wanting to kiss me and kill me.

It’s
time to find out which it will be.

I
pull the door open and stare into his bloodshot eyes. For a moment, all I see
is love.

It
passes.

His
knife flicks out of his sheath and comes straight at my jugular. I sweep it
away and grab for his wrist. I’m faster, but he is much for refined than I am.
His hand twists out of my reach and dives back in. I barely block him in time
with my forearm. The blade will slash in again—I have no delusions about that—so
I spin away from him and lunge forward.

As
I move, I catch sight of the whole room exploding into motion. My eyes catch
them all as I scream, “Don’t touch him!”

The
newest ones, Hope and Hammond pause because they have no idea what’s going on.
Daniel and Dean are staring at their friend as they help Lance restrain Milo,
unbelieving of what they’re seeing. Lance is straining against Milo, but I can
see it in his eyes that he’s barely keeping himself from jumping in. He won’t
let me die. I feel a split second of gratitude for him before Braden is on top
of me again.

His
attack misses when I drop unexpectedly, but he still manages to grab me with
his other hand. My hands slam into his chest to keep him back. Terror fills his
eyes as he raises he knife again. His arms are longer than mine. I can’t hold
him far enough away to keep his knife from landing. I know I need to move—I can
get away with another twist—but I wait, holding him in my gaze, searching for
the part of him that doesn’t want to do this. It’s there, right on the surface,
but it’s bound by his Oath.

Braden’s
knife slashes down at my neck. I shove against him hard and roll to the side.
The knife sinks into the carpet where my head used to be. Somehow, he rebounds
faster than I can and yanks me back toward him. His pulling me leaves my hands
free. I use his momentum to fling my hands around to his. My fingers clamp down
on his wrist and wrench them down onto the coffee table. The leg breaks under
the blow and the knife falls from his limp fingers.

One
finger dangles oddly, catching me with a moment of guilt. He doesn’t need his
hand to take me down. His leg sweeps across mine, and I land on the floor with
a crack. He’s on me in a flash. One of my arms is pinned under my body and the
other is being pushed against my own neck, choking me. I can’t get any leverage
to throw him off of me. I can see Lance and Milo running toward me, but it
seems as if they’re moving in slow motion. Braden and I are moving at our own, even
slower speed.

“Libby,
please. Kill me,” Braden begs, “before I kill you.”

My
vision is starting to fade, but I shake my head.

“Kill
me!” he screams.

I
can feel the tears rolling down my cheeks—which I’m sure are beginning to turn
beet red. Braden chokes back a sob, but his own tears start falling. “Please
kill me, Libby. I know you can. Please, just kill me.”

Oddly,
I’m not afraid of dying. I’m more worried about the fact that Milo and Lance
are about to reach us, and when they do, they’ll kill Braden before I can stop
them. Braden begs me again to kill him, but I can’t. He thinks he’s betraying
me, but I feel like I would be betraying him.

Betrayal
.

That
strikes a strange thought in me, suddenly. It’s the oddest time to be thinking
about it, but Mr. Walters’ words latch onto me. Lance and Milo are barely two
steps away from grabbing Braden. All I can think about is his message.
Remember
the last stanza
. Time freezes for me. I feel like I have an eternity, even
though the man I love is about to be killed. I can stop it, if I can just
figure it out. Betrayal. Mr. Walters wasn’t the first, my dad was. He was the
first, and the most devastating. Learn from it. Use it. What does that mean?
How do I use it?

Lance
has his blade out and is about to grab Braden when everything clicks.

Desperate
strength whips my hand out from under my body and grabs Braden’s shirt, rolling
the both of us. I slam his body into the ground and straddle his chest before Lance
can get to him. My hands are pinning him down, but when I tap my Concealment
and throw it at Braden it’s as if he’s been strapped to the floor with steel
bands. There’s a look of relief in his eyes. He thinks I’m about to kill him.

I’m
not. But he’s going to wish he were already dead in a few seconds.

My
mind dives back into my memory six years, to the night my dad nearly killed me.
In a fraction of a second, I scoop up all the information I hadn’t even
realized was there. My training this last year has opened my eyes to what I
already knew. The force of my Concealment pressing against his body holds him,
but now I put it to work seeking out his talents. There are only three. I know
each of them intimately. Our connection as Spiritual Companions, teacher and
student, friends, and more, all make it so simple to find and wrap each of them
in my Concealment, a power meant to seek and bind the truth, temporarily
twisted into something much darker, something I never imagined I would ever
use.