Embers & Ice (Rouge) (12 page)

“You
are brave, Hunter.”

She
blinked in surprised. “Well… I’m not the only one who has suffered here.
Everyone has experienced pain.”

“Our
pain has passed. Yours is still raw.”

“I
just can’t move on yet. I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye, and now I’m
locked up here playing cat and mouse. I still haven’t forgiven Joshua either.”

“These
things take time,” she said, as if it were the simplest answer.

The
words toppled out again before she could stop them. “Fearne, what were you
doing with that scientist last night?”

For
a moment, she sat there thinking, the smallest frown knitting her brow. “I’m… I
don’t remember. What was I doing?”

“You
don’t remember anything?”

“No,”
she replied. It didn’t look like she was lying. “Was it something bad?”

Of
course, they erased her memory
. Hunter leaned forward and
wrapped a wispy lock of hair behind Fearne’s ears, trying not to wince at the
bald patches.

“Never
mind,” Hunter smiled. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“You’re
welcome,” she said and threw herself against Hunter, wrapping her stick-thin
arms around her neck. “I’m very glad you’re alright. You were so good to my
Will in the Orb.”

Hunter’s
heart almost broke again. She waited until Fearne had waved goodbye – not
without a light peck on her cheek – to let the tears fall again. Only this
time, they were tears of joy. The first real tears of joy she’d had in what
felt like centuries.

TWENTY-TWO

Somewhere,
between her first few days of imprisonment and this new side to inhumanity she
discovered in the Orb, Hunter felt a darkness swirl within her. It was black
and cold like Dr. Wolfe’s soul and it leeched through her, like tar smothering
the cracks on a road. The fire cowered from the blackness, because it had never
felt anything so dark. Except once: That night in the warehouse, when revenge
crept up on her and the fire had brought out an evil side she’d never seen
before. It was not quite as silently deadly, but it was just as bad and just as
powerful.

The
fire didn’t know this darkness. It was grief and terror and hurt and fury all
at once, and it was spreading in her soul. The only thing that stopped the fire
the first time was love. But her love had vanished when she truly accepted
Eli’s death, and there was certainly no love in her life now.  

That
was why Hunter didn’t seem to care about the black spirit that quietly freed
itself inside her. Even if she had love in her life, could she see it then? Or
was there a greater love to overpower it? Was the ultimate battle with her
inner self still to come?

Voices
interrupted Hunter as she pounded her frustrations into her punching bag that
evening. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Marcus and Mosi stroll into
the room. For the first time ever, Hunter noticed there were no guards, and the
two boys were using that opportunity to talk a little louder than normal.

“I
don’t mean Jamison,” Marcus hissed and sat down on the bench. It was always
Marcus bench pressing, Hunter noted. Mosi never seemed to do anything. “You
know that, right? It’s Steel we should be worried about.”

“We
should be worried about even discussing this,” Mosi replied. He shot Hunter a
glance. “People could be listening.”

Marcus
frowned, and only then did he seem to notice her. After a moment he leaned back
on the bench and gripped the bar. “Spot me.”

Hunter
pretended to reposition the bag and tried to ignore them, but Mosi had other
ideas.

“Your
boxing wasn’t up to scratch in the Orb,” he addressed her quietly.

Hunter
turned. “If you were in my position, you would know that wasn’t the case.”

“Yes,”
he said. “But fortunately, if I was in your position, Will would be dead.”

A
lump rose in Hunter’s throat at the truth in his words. Though Mosi’s eyes were
soft and burdened, his body was strong and large. He could crush her with one
clench of a fist, and she didn’t doubt that he’d do it to survive.

“So
are you gonna correct me on my technique again?” she asked. “Am I not standing
right?”

Mosi
inclined his head. “If you turn a little and bend your knees, you’ll have a
stronger impact.”

Hunter
snorted and turned back to the bag. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Did
you punch Jamison when he attacked you in the bathroom?” he asked, hovering his
palms under the bar as Marcus lifted.

Zac,
you blubbering twat.
Hunter sighed and decided if this was question
time, she might as well sit down. She started stretching her legs out on the
mat beside them.

“It’s
a little harder fighting a grown man with an extreme hard-on than a sack
hanging from the ceiling.”

Marcus
started to chuckle and nearly lost his concentration.

“I
can only imagine,” said Mosi.

“I
have a question for you guys, if that’s alright.”

Marcus
dropped the bar and exchanged looks with Mosi. “Shoot.”

Hunter
met his raven-black eyes. “Why are you always in here with each other? Mosi
doesn’t even need to work out.”

Marcus’s
eyes narrowed. “It’s because I’m Jet’s brother, isn’t it?”

“Not…
necessarily,” she lied.

“I’m
nothing like him,” Marcus said, as if that were the only explanation needed.

“And
I do not need to lift weights,” said Mosi simply.

Hunter
suddenly found herself laughing. Even as Mosi stared at her in surprise, Marcus
started chuckling too. It felt good to laugh.

Hunter
sighed and fell back on the mat. “I need to lift,” she said to herself. “My
stamina isn’t exactly up to scratch.”

“You
fight well though, Hunter,” Mosi said in his deep voice. “You might not be as
strong as you once were, but you are smart and you are passionate. That makes a
good fighter.”

“Please,”
Marcus scoffed.

“You
are a Techno,” Mosi snapped at him. “What do you know about fighting?”

“I’m
a
gamer
, what
don’t
I know about fighting?” Marcus looked Hunter
up and down, his eyes glinting like coals. “And anyway, I could beat her in a
fight with my eyes closed.”

Hunter’s
eyebrows shot up.
Don’t do it,
warned a voice in her mind, but it was
just too tempting.

“You’re
on,” she said.

Mosi
and Marcus looked at her with frowns.

“What?”
asked Marcus.

Hunter
backed up a few steps until she was standing on the larger yoga mat. There were
still no Men in White around, making her challenge even more alluring. She
raised her fists in the basic boxing position, her smile widening.

“Come
on, Spazzy McGee. Get your ass up and fight like a real boy.”

Marcus
breathed a laugh and wiped a hand over his mouth. “You’re serious?”

“Better
put your fist where your mouth is,” she replied. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

Mosi
chuckled beneath his breath and crossed his arms over his large chest. Marcus
leapt to his feet and appraised Hunter. Then he stepped onto the mat.

“You’re
on, Hot Cakes.”

After
shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet and grinning like the Joker,
Marcus made the first move and the fight began.

Hunter
didn’t realize until she and Marcus were dodging hits and kicks and rolling
across the floor how much she actually missed her training sessions with
Joshua. As surprising as it was, the man could really dance the deadly art and
he taught her a lot about reading the opponents moves and hitting pressure
points. Though Marcus’s hits were strong and would surely bruise her fragile
bones by morning, his gaming skills didn’t pull through in a real fight. His
reflexes were slow when it came to knowing his own body, and his flexibility
was poor.

After
ducking under a right hook, Hunter kicked his knee in and caught him around the
neck, dragging him down to the floor and pinning one arm under his body. The
other one swung heavily up to sock her in the face but she flipped onto his
chest and forced the arm under her knee, pressing it down.

Marcus
kicked furiously. “Fine! You win!”

Hunter
knew she couldn’t hold him for long and so she rolled off him, breathing hard.
Mosi was grinning and clapped his hands together.

“Well
done,” he beamed. “I wonder if you noticed we have company.”

They
spun to face the door, but it was only two small children of no more than five
or six hiding behind the door frame, peering in. Hunter relaxed.

Mosi
motioned for the children to enter and their faces transformed into wide eyes
and grins. They hurried to the edge of the mat and sat down with eager gazes
pinned on Hunter. She felt insecure and uncomfortable at teaching children how
to fight, but perhaps it was a good thing. And the look in Mosi’s eyes told her
she might be right.

“Go
again,” he nodded.

Hunter
glanced at Marcus. “Well?”

With
his hands clasped around his knees, Marcus made a face that said this was the
last place on Earth he wanted to be, but behind that she could see his thoughts
ticking. He really wanted to learn, he just didn’t want to be humiliated.

“Think
of it as practice rather than a lesson,” she said. “After all, I’m no martial
arts master.”

“Someone
taught you though,” Mosi noted. “And he taught you well.”

Hunter
raised an eyebrow at him. “What makes you so sure?”

“I…
know more than you think.”

“You
fight her then,” Marcus muttered.

“Chicken!”
exclaimed Sammy, a little boy with silver blond hair and one glazed blue eye
that happened during an operation downstairs. He and Hunter had become good
friends in the past few weeks. Sammy could glow brighter than sunlight when he
didn’t have a power restraint on. “You’re just a big fat chicken, Marcus.”

“Who
asked you, Sparkles?”

The
young boy glared and the girl next to him hid a giggle behind her hand.

“Alright,
enough,” said Hunter. “I think we’d better quit it before the guards come. I
don’t know why they’re not even here anyway.”

“There’s
some kind of shortage today,” Marcus said. “None of the guards are upstairs in
the cellblock either, just the common room and the breakfast hall.”

“Why?”
asked Hunter. She remembered her earlier conversation with Will.
He must
know that, or he wouldn’t have wanted to meet me tonight. But how?

None
of them had an answer.
Perhaps it’s something to do with why Dr. Wolfe was
so cheerful this morning,
Hunter thought. Then she realized that whatever
the reason, she didn’t want to know. If Dr. Wolfe was planning something,
nothing in the world could be more terrifying.

TWENTY-THREE

Like
most of the Institution that evening, Hunter found the lower floor with the
boy’s bathroom empty of all Men in White. She crept cautiously, expecting to be
tasered in the back as she went through the common room to the bathrooms on the
other side. She pushed open the iron door and peered in. No one was there.

This
room smelt far worse than the girls’. Hunter slapped her sleeve over her mouth
and grimaced. The faint sound of dripping taps echoed in her ears. The silence
was eerie, and memories of the scene upstairs stirred inside her. She went to
turn around and go back when someone cleared their throat and Hunter opened her
mouth to scream.

A
hand slapped over it and she whirled, expecting to find herself caught in
Jamison’s slimy embrace again. But there was Will, all tall, broad and
anguished. She was so relieved that she felt the urge to hug him, to have him
wrap his arms around her protectively. The instinct brought upon her a wave of
uncertainty and she pushed him away quickly.

He
stared at her with seriousness. “Sorry I scared you.”

 “Where
did you come from?” She glanced at the door and frowned. “I was standing right
at the door.”

Will
nodded his head behind him, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. “Secret
passage.”

For
the first time, Hunter saw an inconspicuous slit in the tiling. “How the hell
did you find that?”

“I’ve
been here a very long time. I know everything there is to know about this
place. You’d be surprised at some of the things the guards neglect.”

Hunter
gazed up at Will, at the way flashes of silver light blinked in the deep brown
of his eyes half hidden by the dull locks of hair that hung over his forehead.
His thin lips were parted slightly, his arm still extended towards her as if he
longed for her touch. Though alarms should have been blaring behind her eyes,
Hunter felt no fear in following him. In fact, it would be safer wherever she
was going if Will was leading her away.

“So,”
he whispered and pushed the wall inward. It made a soft grounding sound like
stone on concrete. “Can we talk down here?”

Hunter
stared at it apprehensively, then nodded. “Okay.”

“This
way to the dungeons,” he smiled suggestively. It was small and crooked, but a
smile no less. Hunter had never seen Will with anything more than torment on
his face, and for a moment she was transfixed and didn’t move. Then it
disappeared and turned into a frown and he was cautiously reaching out to her.
“I’m kidding, it’s not… I didn’t mean-”

“It’s
okay,” she said and pulled herself together. The voice of the fire in her mind
was shaking its head. Figuratively.

“I’ve
been down here a hundred times. You shouldn’t worry.”

Hunter
went behind him into a tiny tunnel. He stopped once she was inside the dank
space and eased the wall back into place. It was suddenly pitch black.

Hunter
groped around for him, her heart beating erratically, and found his arm. She
gripped it tight, marveling at his tense muscles instead of feeling fear.

“Don’t
worry, I know these hallways like the back of my hand,” he said. His voice
spoke close to her, and its deep tone was soothing. She longed to light a fire
to guide them.

Will
gripped her hand as they walked. It had been a long time since Hunter had held
a strangers hand that way. It was not the most outlandish thing that had
happened to her in the past few weeks, but it was definitely odd. She felt
comforted, despite her circumstances. It was unclear to her where she stood
with Will, whether they were ‘friends’ like she was with the others, or whether
there was something else, a bridge between friends and more. As she moved
slowly deeper into the darkness with Will guiding her, she tried to concentrate
on his hand in hers rather than the guilt that was still settling in her
stomach.

Will
slowed, halted and patted his foot around. Moments later he dipped down and
grabbed Hunter’s other hand.

“Stairs,”
he said.

It
was so dark that Hunter couldn’t even see Will’s outline before her. They took
it slow, and Hunter gripped Will so tightly she could sense his smile, especially
in his tone as he encouraged her further. Since her sight wasn’t active, her
other senses were on hyper-drive. She could smell wet wood, dust and metal. She
heard every creak of the wooden stairs beneath them, every drip of a distant
pipe, every breath that blew out of their mouths. Will’s hands in hers were
cool and soft and strong, as you would expect of immortal skin.

“Where
are you taking me?” she asked to fill the silence.

“I’m
not exactly sure what it’s called,” he replied and for the first time she
became aware of a very faint British accent. It was only obvious now in the
silence. “But from what I’ve explored, these tunnels were once a part of the
institution. Down further is a separate level. It’s deserted and some of the
walls have crumbled, but there are cells. Old cells.” Will stopped immediately
and felt in front of him. His hands came to a blockage and he bent down,
gripping a door handle and pushing it inwards.

More
darkness awaited them, but Will walked confidently forward. She could tell this
space was much bigger than the tiny hallway and staircase they’d come through.
The reverberations of their voices echoed. She imagined a corridor as he’d
described, with cells like theirs stories above, only decayed and in shades of
gray, green and black. An old prison. Ruins.

Will
moved left very suddenly and opened another door. There was less space there,
and he was soon placing her before what felt like a bed. Will pried her hand
away and closed the door. She tried to find him again, waving around.

“Will!”
she hissed. “What are you-”

“Just
a minute.” He was ruffling in something and then a match was lit.

His
face glowed in the fire light that set the room around them in a golden
luminosity. Hunter could have sung with relief to have light – or even better,
fire.

They
were in what appeared to be someone’s old quarters. A bed with a spring
mattress was set up against the right wall. Will stood on the other side of the
bed, a chest of drawers behind him. He was lighting a row of candles melted
down in mountains of dripping wax. Soon the room was glowing and the presence
of even a little warmth was enough to relax her. The smell of age still
thickened the air, and the candlelight cast shadows as they moved on the walls.
A small wooden cross hung at the head of the bed that made Hunter feel as
though she were in a scene from
The Exorcist
.

Hunter
walked around the bed and joined Will by the drawers. She followed the line of
candles with her eyes, waving her fingers through the flames and waiting for
the burn. Thankfully, the bracelet seemed to only stop the fire from coming
out. Her skin was still immune. The warmth was heavenly after having such a
quick reunion with her powers yesterday in the Orb.

“Is
that strange?” he asked. His face glowed with an oddly beautiful presence in
the light of the candles. “Never being able to feel a burn?”

Hunter
shook her head. “I don’t know any different. In class, I used to be able to
hold my finger through the Bunsen burners and all the guys thought it was the
coolest party trick ever.” She chuckled to herself and then saw the look of
confusion in Will’s eyes. She realized he would have no idea what she was
talking about. Clearing her throat, she pried a clump of wax away from the
cupboard so she could keep the tiny flame close to her.

“I
can’t believe you come here by yourself.” Hunter sat on the creaky mattress,
ignoring the ugly stains, her back to the wall that was cold against her. Part
of the bed was wet from a leak in the roof and layered with dust.

Will
sat himself at the other end, leaning against the iron bars with one leg folded
under him. He gave her a tired look. “It’s the only place that I can hide from
everyone. No one else knows about it… well, except Fearne. But she knows
everything.”

Hunter
snorted, looking around. “We must be pretty far down.”

“Not
that far,” he said. “Sometimes I hear distant voices from the end of this
corridor. There’s another passage that leads to the labs upstairs, and I think
there’s something else down below.”

“What?
Below this?” She pointed at the bed.

“I
hear scientists going by the locked door at the end of this corridor. I’m
guessing they’ve kept part of this old institution running for secret
experiments and stuff.”

Hunter
sat forward eagerly. Wax began to dribble down her fingers, but of course, she
couldn’t feel it. “Can you get down there to see?”

Will
sniffed a laugh. The amused glimmer in his eyes caused Hunter’s heart to
flutter. “Why the hell would I want to do that? Do you know how much trouble
I’d be in if I was caught snooping around down there?”

Hunter
shivered inside. “I can imagine,” she muttered. Her thoughts were racing. There
were so many secrets in this place that Hunter would bet her right arm Dr.
Wolfe was hiding something, and it had to be down there. But what was she
willing to risk to find out?

“You’ve
known Dr. Wolfe a while, right?”

“Almost
all my life,” he said. “Charming fellow, isn’t he?”

“Very
pleasant,” she replied, equally sarcastic. “Do you ever think he has another
agenda besides torturing us for his pleasure?”

“Oh,
all the time.” Will drew his other leg up and matched Hunter’s cross-legged
stance, leaning closer to her. She stared into his eyes, almost black in the
shadow of the candlelight behind him, shadows defining the shape of his square
jaw and length of his eyelashes. “He built this place from scratch, but he’s
never really
with
us unless it’s something important.”

“I’ve
noticed that. He stopped seeing me for my checkups almost two weeks after I got
here.”

Will
nodded.

“I
wonder what he does every other time.” Hunter had the urge to tell Will about
Fearne’s escapades, figuring he already knew since he was so close to her.
“Fearne works with him sometimes, she knows what he’s up to right?”

Will’s
face instantly hardened and his hands clenched tightly together. “Fearne is an
innocent girl. Dr. Wolfe is cruel to her.”

“He’s
cruel to everyone.”

“She
has a special place in his heart, because her mind is so complicated. They
haven’t figured out how to stop her powers completely yet, and she’s been here
for six years.”

“What
is he using her for then?”

Will’s
brow creased. “Using her? What makes you say that?”

Hunter
sighed. Will was like a protective big brother to Fearne. If he ever knew what
Dr. Wolfe had her do to those scientists, he’d get himself into a hell of a lot
of trouble. So she brushed it off.

“Never
mind. What’s it like to be immortal?”

He
readjusted his legs and grimaced.

“I
hate it. I always have. From the moment I knew I could heal myself, my life
turned to shit. I was four when I was cast out of my family.”

“What
happened?”

“Uh…”
Will began to shut himself off from her, and Hunter wanted so badly to know
what made him so heroic and fragile that she leaned over on the bed and put a
hand gently on his knee.

“Hey.
Whatever hell you’ve been through… I was just around the corner.”

Glued
to her gaze, Will’s troubled frown deepened to the point where he blinked
rapidly and let out a long sigh. “You’d be a lot more messed up if you went
through what I went through.”

“And
we’d be a lot closer if I knew what it was you went through.”

“Fine.”
He took another deep breath. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Hunter
let a wry smile form on her lips. “Try me.”

He
looked deep into her eyes, drawing her attention with a tug as strong as the
tide. “I was born in Northern London. My parents were wealthy and high up in
society. My father was a power hungry man. When I was a boy, he would
constantly grain it into me that I needed to grow up fast to get ahead in life.
That I should do whatever it takes to be successful and rich. Money is a
privilege, he said. You have to work for it. I hardly saw either of them and
was taken care of by the housekeeper, Hannah. When I was a boy, I was… in an
accident.”

Just
the way he said it made Hunter sure he was lying. She peered at him closer and
couldn’t stop the words that fell out of her mouth.

“Your
father beat you, didn’t he?”

Will’s
lips were pursed in a tight line and every muscle around his neck tensed. He
didn’t say a word.

“That’s
how you got that scar, isn’t it? You-”

“
Stop
.”
He spat the word out and instantly, she was silent. Will threw his legs off the
bed and walked to the corner of the room with his back to her. The air was
tensely thick.

“I’m
sorry,” she muttered. “I just… I wanted to know more about your past.”