Darkside Sun (21 page)

I pictured twelve-year-old Evangeline in her coffin, with the bullet hole in her forehead. The Machine had killed her. Some part of me must already have figured it out, because the knowledge didn’t shred me. She’d been killed because of me, because the time we spent together had no doubt brought her to the wraiths’ attention. Maybe my energy had built up in her like it did in the walls of the rooms where I spent the most time.

My instincts told me the Machine wasn’t supposed to be about violence, about guns. Had they lost their way because of this Misgiver person? I still didn’t know how or where to begin, or what it was inside me Izan alluded to, but I had to at least try to do something before more people died.

Like Ava and Evangeline, who both died because of me.

Echoes of the grief I carried were suddenly wrapped in guilt. Who else would I lose before it all ended? Dad? Sophia? Asher? I halted the morbid direction my thoughts wanted to take. I had to figure this out. Dad had saved my life once and had altered his dramatically to make sure I had an amazing childhood. Single fatherhood couldn’t have been easy, and he never complained once, even though I was sure there were times he was probably as lost and afraid as I was now. It was time for me to step up and return the favor. If only I had some courage in my pocket, I’d be all set.

The Misgiver could be anyone, Izan had said. Remy, the Colonel, Kat. Even Sophia. As I stared at myself in the mirror, most of my safe places disappeared, not that I had many before. The only one I was sure of was Asher, because of the glimpse into his memories I’d had.

I had to forget about failing and go forward as if nothing was wrong. Unlike Asher, I’d always sucked at acting. If I failed this time, though, the consequences would be far worse than getting an F in drama class.

Chapter 23

Another week rolled by, and another. Every morning, Kat tried her best to kill me. Mostly, I let her, only using my new skills to minimize the damage. If she figured out just how proficient I’d become and she was the traitor, it could throw a wrench into my silent watching of her and everyone else.

The Colonel continued his little meet and greets with Kat, all serious, slipping me covert glances. In jeans and a button-down, he appeared younger, more harmless, but still king of the hill. Was he trying to convince me he wasn’t a threat? I shook that off, since nobody knew what Izan had told me about the traitor. Did they? Paranoia at work. It had been festering in me since the Aztec boy had appeared in the mirror. That old adage,
when you’re holding a hammer everything looks like a nail
, finally made sense to me.

Maybe the Colonel had her putting the kibosh on my training, only that didn’t make much sense if he determined my rank anyway. He could stick me in the dregs of soldier-dom and nobody would have a say in it. Still, he gave me a case of the heebs every time he came into the training room.

Taka hadn’t returned, and thank hell for that. Then again, he could have been standing right next to me one layer into the Shift every time I walked down the hallway, and I wouldn’t have known.

I felt like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, only it was dark and one of said chairs had razorblades for rockers. Needless to say, I kept my little tail on the down low so it wouldn’t get lopped off.

Every evening either Remy or Sophia would spar with me—after we’d all donned gloves, of course. I didn’t hold as much back from them as I did with Kat. The sentiment Izan had warned me about was no doubt getting in the way, but I couldn’t help it. They were the two closest things I had to friends. They also began shooting funny glances at me, but they didn’t ask where I’d picked up my new tricks. They knew bloody well it wasn’t from Kat.

Marcus and the Aussie, whose name I learned was Sampson, picked up a new routine, coming to lift weights near the end of my session with Kat. I kept catching them watching me, their gazes darting somewhere else when I looked their way. After weeks, I’d learned exactly nothing except that the longer I spent in the midst of all of them, the more paranoid I became. And the more tired. Paranoia will kill the sleep cycle every time.

The Colonel had to pass judgment on me soon. I’d overheard him grilling Asher the day before about why my eyes hadn’t changed yet and was something wrong. It was wrong, all right. Really damn wrong. Only I wasn’t the problem for once. I’d have to impress the Colonel when the time came and not before.

Friday had rolled around again. Kat stood across the mat from me as always, wearing lower-heeled black boots under her fatigues. Her amused facade had begun to crack in the last few days as my confidence grew. Something new shone her eyes today. A new hardness, cold and malicious, empty of all but determination that she would kill me if she had a chance. Maybe she really was the Misgiver, and she was on to me.

“I’ve just been playing with you up until now, bitch,” she said with enough venom to drop an elephant. “Time to play for real. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Her shiny white-blonde ponytail hung down her back like a pale whip.

I bent my knees to mirror the stance I’d seen in my mind a hundred times now, arms up, bent at the elbows to protect myself. “Bring it on, honey.” I smiled at her. It wasn’t a nice smile. Foot or fist, I wondered as she tensed. I let my thoughts clear, readying me for instinct to rise as Izan taught me. My mind stilled into a beautiful silence, calm and peaceful. She must have seen something in my eyes, because hers widened a little.

When she stepped forward, I knew. I’d studied every detail of her movements over the last month and had learned her tells. She planted her foot and threw her fist at my throat. I seemed to have all the time in the world to grab her wrist, pull down, and ram my other hand against the backside of her elbow. A little roar helped me along.

Kat screamed as she tumbled forward, having no choice but to go down to the mat unless she wanted me to break her arm. She screamed obscenities at me.

The door opened. The Colonel, Marcus, Taka, Remy, and Asher all marched in, stopping just off the edge of the mat. They were all frowning. She picked herself up off the floor, her stride less graceful as she hobbled toward them.

Asher marched over to me. He wore black fatigues and a black tank. And dammit, he looked divine, delicious, and I wanted to spread my fingers across his skin, wrap him around me, and sleep. I hated him more for that.

“Today is to be your judgment,” he said. “Prepare yourself.”

“What?” I asked. “Today? But my eyes haven’t even changed.” Had they?

“You will show me what you’ve learned from Kat, and the Colonel will determine what you are to become, eyes or no eyes.” Asher crouched on the mat just as Kat had done for weeks. His body hummed with tension, gaze sweeping over me, fearful, disgusted. Was it so terrible to think of being near me? Screw him. It was now or never.

“I told you, she hasn’t taught me shit.”

He scoffed. “Don’t put your failure and ignorance on her.”

“You were supposed to be my protector, my sensei, but no, you shuffled me off to that evil hag, so screw you and the bitch you rode in on.” Rage filled me, such rage I didn’t know what to do with it. It wasn’t mine, and I wondered for a moment if it was Asher’s, but the flavor of this one wasn’t as aged as that. It was Izan’s, letting me know he’d arrived, was listening, and had had enough.

I waited for the young Aztec to hit pause on the world again and show me some kick-ass moves I could use to impress the Colonel, but he didn’t. I had time to survey the group of sentinels staring at me like an insect under glass, all but Remy, who just looked sad.

Wrong, wrong, and more wrong. The Machine was supposed to be a family, closer than blood could bring a group of people. Had the Misgiver made them all paranoid strangers? Torn them apart, made them afraid of natural instincts and desires, basic needs? Taken the color and personality out of their lives, right down to the color of the paint on the walls and the clothes they wore?

I still didn’t know how to fix it, but I wanted to get my hands under the hood and start tweaking like I had with that old Camaro engine so long ago. I liked puzzles as much as I liked old books. If I could just sort out all of the pieces of this one, I could put the Machine back together the way Izan intended.

As Asher tensed to come at me, I considered how I could make the best impression. He was as strong as a gorilla, graceful and fast as hell when he’d fought Marcus, so I couldn’t best him in a fair fight. So I’d fight dirty, and I thought I knew how. I just needed Izan to unlock the Shift around the training room for me.

Izan, a little help?
I thought at him, uncertain if he could hear me.

Asher came at me like a rocket. I let my breath slide out and called the Shift without a specific destination in mind, letting it suck me in just enough so Asher passed through me, by me, and stumbled.

Straightening, he turned and stared at me with horror. “How?” he asked.

I smiled wider. “I might consider teaching you if you weren’t such a douche.”

He rushed me again. I slid sideways in the Shift, turning, taking his leg out from under him as I reappeared. When he stumbled, I slammed my palm between his shoulder blades and rode him down to the mat. “You think Kat taught me that, asshole? I’m smarter than you think I am, and I’m never going to let you make me feel small and helpless ever again.”

While he lay there, stunned, I wrenched his arm up and pressed my knee into his back. Struggling against my hold, he cried out as I put more pressure against his shoulder joint.

Leaning down to his ear, I pressed my lips close enough he’d have been able to feel my breath on it. “I trusted what you said in the chamber, that you were weren’t going to hurt me, but you lied,
sensei
.” I said the last in a mocking tone. “Our founder stepped in when you abandoned me, and he’s furious with you.”

Asher had gone terribly still beneath me, his breath rasping against the mat. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’m not telling you jack. We could have been the power to change the world, you and I, but you’ve decided your pride and anger are more important than the world we’re bound to protect.” I released him and came back to my feet, staring at the sentinels who now appeared suitably impressed and had traded expressions. Remy beamed at me. The rest gaped.

“You think it is me who came here to be judged today?” I asked the group. “Because I’d say you’re dead wrong about that. You don’t get to decide what I’ll become, Colonel, only I can do that. Maybe you should be more concerned with what you’ve become.”

Tingling began in my chest, growing stronger until something swept through me like a summer wind. The storm Marcus had sensed in me stirred, bloomed, and roared out from my soul, but I held it inside with a tremendous effort. What a rush, beginning as pleasure and walking on the verge of pain.

Not yet. Not yet.

My evolution had begun, apparently. Would I stop aging as of right this second? That thought didn’t scare me as much as it used to. To climb the seemingly impossible mountain before me, I might need eternity.

The great heartbeat pounded against my skin. Nobody else seemed to notice. I was the heartbeat, no, we were the heartbeat, Izan and me. Only Asher was missing from the ultimate dream team.

Throat tight, I strode toward the Colonel without looking back at Asher. The sentinels parted before me, tensed to act. Both the Colonel and Taka had guns drawn. I stopped beside Kat, who took a step back, palming a blade from her boot.

“It’s really too bad you waste so much energy on being a bully,” I said. “If you’d put all of that anger toward the wraiths instead of me, and everyone else around here followed your lead, we wouldn’t have a bunch of dead things crawling into our world.”

I hot-footed it to the door and went out.

Sophia stood in the middle of the hall, her mouth open in a little O. I smiled at her, which must have appeared creepy since she took a step back. “It’s all right now, Sophia.”
I think.

“Are you a … what are you?” She raised her hand, sweeping it through the air.

I thought about it, and, whaddaya know, I still had no idea. I felt strangely calm, filling out my skin better when I’d always been too small. “I don’t think it’s time for me to know yet.” Why wasn’t I giggling or screaming, that I seemed to have swallowed a hurricane that surged and swelled in me? Or that I’d just told off a bunch of people who were bigger and badder than I was?

The answer came inside my head.
Because you’re finally beginning to see in yourself what I have always known was there.

What do you see?
I asked.

The pure heart and determination of a warrior, the soul of a lover, and a foundation made of unquestionable loyalty. You are the one who will never be corrupted by the power you wield.

Clearly I needed glasses or something, because I had no idea where he found all of that in me. Maybe I just wasn’t looking hard enough or in the right places. He described what I’d always strived to be but never thought I was. Could I live up to that? I had no idea, but I wanted to try.

Chapter 24

I stood before the bathroom mirror, lost in a boatload of mental cobwebs, images, and sounds of the last twenty minutes. The honey-brown of my eyes remained, but they would leave me soon. What color would take their place? Would I recognize myself when new eyes stared back at me?

God, why was I even thinking about that, anyway, with so much turd about to splat into the fan? My priorities had suffered a continental shift. If only my courage would keep up.

Had I really just smashed Asher’s face in? I must have unless I’d been knocked stupid and I was dreaming. Good gravy, he must have been pissed. As my shock waned, a grin emerged over that one.

Sweat had dampened my hair and tank top. I peeled it from my body, in desperate need of a shower. The yoga pants, shoes, and socks came off next.

A gasp sounded behind me, and I whipped my head around. Asher stood in the doorway like a well-pressed dream. Perfect, except for the blood spilling from his nose and the corner of his lip. My doing. A little shot of glee mixed with a twinge of regret.

I should have been mortified to be standing there in nothing but my black sports bra and cotton boy shorts, but the shock in his features stole all of my attention. His gaze roved over my skin. Most of my bruises had faded enough that my skin appeared mostly yellow with only a few deep purple bruises from Kat’s most recent hits.

“You really didn’t know. You really thought she was teaching me to defend myself and I just sucked ass at it, is that what you’re telling me?” I nodded, seething and trying to keep the profanity unsaid. “Well, that’s just great. Stellar job with the training, sensei.”

“Christ, I …” Roaring, he whirled and tossed his fist into the concrete block wall. “That lying bitch!”

I didn’t argue with that one. “Ignorance isn’t an excuse. And you kidnapped me, convinced the sentinels to vote me in like I was some sort of miracle waiting to be shaped into being, and then you just cast me aside like garbage. Why? Was this just a big joke on me? Did you really tell Kat I wasn’t worth your time? And why would you choose her to train me when you knew how much she despised me? Do you really hate me that much?”

He growled low in his throat. “This isn’t a joke, and I don’t …”

I waited for him to finish, not surprised when he didn’t. “Whatever. In the end, you got what you wanted, anyway, so I’m not sure why you’re all ruffled. You wanted to beat the softness out of me, well, you got your wish. Check out these hard abs.” I smacked myself on the belly. “Look in my eyes, do you see any softness left there? Because there’s none, at least not for you. I needed you, dammit, and you just left me.” Oh, hell, why did I have to go and say that?

Rubbing his now-bleeding knuckles, he swept his gaze over me again, accepting my invitation to check out my new and improved physique, apparently. He had a good ol’ look that stretched into squirm-inducing yikes territory. The heat of his anger turned darker. He licked his lips, took a step closer, his fist so tight his fingers had ghosted.

After all of the times I’d imagined having someone look at me like that, like I was a melty ice cream cone that he had an itch to lick, finally seeing the real deal should have been monumental, but nothing but a hot stab of anger shot through me.

“You have no right to look at me that way. After what we shared in the chamber, I thought … but you ran like a total Nancy. The way you held me that night … was it really just a show you put on to get me on the altar?” I waved him off. “Never mind, I don’t care. Get lost, I need a shower.” How dare he eye me like that?

His lips parted, but he didn’t get a word out before I turned on my heel and went into the shower, stripping off my bra when I made it to the end farthest from him and the darkest portion of the room. I turned on the shower, well aware he was still out there.

Kicking off the boy shorts, I pressed my hands into the wall and let the water pour over my head, down my aching body. I wasn’t Kat, would never be her, and I didn’t want to be. No, hell no.

Never before had I been so aware of my body, of the power it could have over a guy. One leer at me, and I knew he regretted throwing me away. Well, didn’t that just suck ass. He wasn’t just a jerk on the surface; he had a gooey, lecherous center, too.

If he wanted me, respected me, I wanted it to be because I’d done something worthwhile, not because of the way I rocked a bod. But right now I hated him, and I wanted him to get a good look at what he would never have, shocking the prude in me.

After washing and rinsing my hair, I turned off the water and walked back to him, but he turned away. A fluffy white towel hung from his finger. I took it and dried myself off before wrapping it around my flashy bits.

“Why look away? Why not enjoy the fruits of your labor?” I made it sound mocking, razor-edged, hoping it would cut his ears as he listened. “I don’t believe for a second you turned away to be a gentleman. You don’t have a kind bone in your body, even if you can act the part once in a while.”

“I’m sorry.”

If there were crickets around, I’d have heard them chirping after that bombshell. Of all the things I’d considered he might say when we finally came to blows, that didn’t come within a universe of the list. “Sorry for what? Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

“I looked, but I didn’t see. I heard you, but didn’t listen. I stayed away because …” He let out a muted cry and shook his head free of whatever he was about to say. “You’re right. I thought it would be better for you to be trained by a woman, so you’d be less tempted to grope her the way you did me.” His lips quirked before flattening again. “I trusted her. And I’ve failed you. There is no excuse.”

Color me stunned. “If you’d asked me five minutes ago, I’d have said the word ‘sorry’ wasn’t in your vocabulary.”

He smiled then, and it was wistful. It turned him beautiful faster than a full moon transformed the pitch of night. “Don’t get used to hearing it, Plaid. Once is probably all you’re going to get.”

“Now that, I believe.” A few tons of tension leaked out of the room, and once again my hands itched to go walkabout all over him.
Huh?
One smile did not erase all of his bad behavior.

With no idea how to find the Misgiver, I decided it was time to get my mother’s books. Maybe something in them would point me in the right direction. “After I get dressed, you need to get something for me, and then you’re going to teach me how to hunt wraiths.” I needed to see the sentinels in action so I could rule out the non-guilty.

His harsh expression reappeared. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to. Besting me once in a fight where I assumed you would cower does not make you anything more than lucky. It certainly doesn’t give you the right to boss me around.” So much for his five minutes of acting like a human being.

Could I trust him to get my stuff? Strangely, I did. Hell, one sorry from the guy and my anger folded like an old card table, even with his grouch once again flipped on. Not that I had a choice but to trust him. He was the only one I’d ruled out as the Misgiver, and one of the few who knew the name of my hometown.

“Have you used the Shift to fight before?” I asked, brow jacked up in challenge.

He came forward, stopping so close all I could see were his eyes. “Did the founder somehow teach you that?”

I might have issued the retort burning on my tongue if I wasn’t afraid I’d close that last bit of distance and … what? Kiss him? How stupid was that? Sweet mother Mary, I was losing my ever-loving mind. The twitching in my nethers could just forget it. So not happening.

Maybe a little psychology 101? “There’s something I need to do, something so important it scares the bajeepers out of me. I really wish I could trust you enough to tell you what it is, but I can’t. And how sad is that considering you’re supposed to be my guide through all of this. So the bottom line is that if you’re not going to help me, then get the bloody hell out of my way and send me someone who can.” I shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “I’m sure Marcus would be glad to step up.”

He recoiled as if I’d kicked him in the croquet set. His lips pressed together, and something surged in those glacial eyes. Fury, hatred, possession, I had no idea what, but it was big and bad and coming to get me with sharp teeth.
Oh, hell.
I backed up. He followed. My back had a meet and greet with the wall, and I yelped.

“You will stay away from Marcus. Are we quite clear?” he asked, or maybe growled, the effect was the same. “Have you been seeing him behind my back?” When I couldn’t find any air to answer with, he said, “Speak!”

“No, all right? Jeez, you
are
crabby.” I swallowed, both hot and cold in his shadow, in different places in my body. I flattened my hands against the wall so I wouldn’t reach for him. Just because I still wanted to touch him didn’t mean he needed to know it.

Digging hands into his pockets, expelling a sigh with the pressure of a fire extinguisher, he said, “Tell me what you need.” He resumed his top-to-bottom inspection of my towel-wrapped form. Asher had told me to be careful about revealing my weaknesses to him. Did he know he’d just tossed one out there for me? Fork him a little Marcus threat, and suddenly his switch has flipped from hell-no to use-me-I’m-yours. Sweet deal.

I considered my words carefully before answering, digging up another trick out of the psych handbook. “Do you still believe in the Machine? Do you care enough about it to go outside your known and do whatever it takes to make it work like it should? Because if you do, and you’ll pull your head out long enough to trust me, we can still fix the Machine and make our world safe for everyone.”

Only his eyes relayed that I’d hit my mark. Pain. Pain and what might have been hope radiated from him. I hated using his own ghosts against him, but I needed to know how real he was.

“If I didn’t still believe, I’d have eaten my gun by now.” Shame colored his cheeks as he angled his body away from me. My stomach jerked at the thought of him hurt. He was aching plenty already, but dead couldn’t be fixed. I wanted to fix him, grouch and all.

I did reach for him, then, but he jerked back. Frowning, I paused, deciding to take a leap of faith. “Then you need to take me to get my mother’s books.”

“What?” His body seized as if someone had Tasered his ass. “You know where they are?” The force of his voice pushed me back against the counter. Apparently he hadn’t been listening in on my conversation with Dad.

“Did you know they were important?” I told him Dad’s story about when I’d found the books in the garage, had crawled out to them as if they’d been calling me. When he did nothing but blink at me, I said, “Well, say something.”

“I thought he destroyed them. If I’d thought he’d just taken them away, I’d have gone looking for them.”

“Did you know they belonged to my mother? Was she part of the Machine?” I didn’t know what I wanted him to say. Yes? No? What would have made me feel worse? No freakin’ idea.

He roughed his non-wounded hand over his shadow beard. “I didn’t know whose they were until I saw her standing over your bed that night, the one you saw in your memories during the ceremony. She tried to convince him to get rid of the books then, but she didn’t succeed until she returned years later.”

I couldn’t breathe for a moment. “So she was really in my room. That memory was real.” A nice hot rush of anger came up to chase away the burn at the back of my eyes. “She was right in my room and never bothered to introduce herself. What was she sorry for? That she hadn’t aborted me? That is what she said, right? That she was sorry?”

“I think she knew what you’d become.”

Which was what? “So she was part of the Machine,” I whispered, not sure what I thought about it. “Then where is she now? Is she still alive?”

“Glenna was never part of the Machine that I know of, but she didn’t age past her early twenties as if she was. I think she was sensitive to the rifts, but I couldn’t find her no matter how hard I tried. I got the feeling the Shift didn’t want me to find her, so I let it go.”

“Maybe she was part of the original Machine and escaped the massacre?” Maybe she had abandoned us for a reason? A knot untied in me, but I didn’t know how to let go of a lifetime of anger. I didn’t know for sure her taking off had anything to do with the Machine, so I set it aside for the moment.

Asher moved forward again, aggressive, determined. “Where are the books, Addison?”

My real name. Bad to worse. “So you agree that the books are important
?” I’m only in a towel. He could rip it off in a flash, and the counter top is right there … stop it!

“You wouldn’t be so drawn to them if they weren’t. I’d always planned to take everything from your library the moment I realized I was supposed to recruit you. Now, where?” His voice had gone whispers-in-the-dark again, but instead of scaring me this time, it only made my thighs tingle harder than they already were.

“I—I’m going with you.” And now I was stuttering. Fantastic.

When all he did was lock me in his stare that melted my bones, I said, “Stop eyeballing me and say something.”

He cleared his throat and shook his head. “You can’t leave here until you can prove you can defend yourself against all forms of attack, wield a blade, and shoot a gun. We might have the skills to pull out a wraith and live forever if left alone, but we still bleed and die like everyone else if we’re injured in the vital parts.” That would explain why we were called the Mortal Machine, not the Immortal Machine.

Was he staring at my mouth again? Nah. Probably wondering how his fist would look there. “And you need to learn how to suppress your energy. I could feel it across the training room the instant it came online right after you pinned me, and now I can hardly breathe around it. If I can feel it, so will the wraiths, and since they were drawn to you while it still lay dormant in your soul, you’ll be a beacon to them now.”

And so would the Misgiver have felt it. So much for trying to keep a lid on it when Izan had warned me to. Would he or she perceive me as some kind of threat to their plans? “I don’t need a gun. If you need to kill someone, then you’ve done the extraction wrong.”