Light of the Moon (14 page)

My eyes opened to this: Fear was a weakness I couldn’t afford to have. Only, the one thing that could destroy me was the one secret I kept locked away; no one but Marcus knew my desire to find my sisters. No one but him would ever know that tiny bit of fear I could never block.

But the rules have changed
, I thought.
Now I have to tell one more.

Now I am one person weaker.

I hated that I had to, but knew I didn’t have a choice. If I gave Calum pieces of the truth, he would be more open to trusting me, giving me what I wanted. Marcus had told me that; not enough truth to make him my equal, just enough to keep him quiet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Calum. He was everything I despised: Emotional, innocent, even
pretty
. His eyes were too blue, filled with too much light and dark, and his hair was too messy. His shoulders were wide, tight and compact with sinewy muscle, but they fell forward in ugly misery. Still, I could see his veins bump and ripple across his arms when he moved, when he was angry. Even now, his angled jaw was tight with tension, and I knew somewhere deep inside he was strong.

I saw his smile once, that first day we locked eyes, when he was with his friend Tyler, but never since. It had been kind and easy, his full lips tilted up at the edges. When Calum had smiled it reached to his eyes, lighting up his whole face as though he were completely happy. As though his eyes had captured a supernova exploding in a sparkling sky. Even now the thought of it made me want to smile, made me uncomfortable; that easy smile reminded me too much of my father’s.

I wanted to be happy again, like I had been before.

My teeth gritted against memories. I despised Calum with every single thread of hatred I had in my heart because of that smile.

But what if Marcus is wrong, and Calum is really as clueless as he seems?
I thought,
Blasphemy! But what if the Order is wrong?

A moment so quick it was gone before it set in completely:
What if I’m wrong?

I had always been the eldest, forced to play with the children and learn as they did. But I was never really an equal to them. Never. Their weaknesses did give me practice though, and I relished in the fact that I never lost a game. The Warrior song reminded me of that, and of my place in life.

I was a Warrior, forever and always. In that, I could find happiness.

A hard heart beat under my thick skin. My
leviti
was tattooed on my finger, the Warrior’s sign of power. It seemed to beat and burn on my finger, and I knew I truly did believe in the Order. After everything I’d been through I was almost ashamed I had questioned it.

No,
I thought, rubbing my
leviti
. It didn’t matter if Calum was clueless or as lost as he claimed to be. He was still what the Order had warned: Dangerous and deadly.

I felt a familiar blanket of cold drape over me, as comforting as the song.

Nothing but truth.

I thought,
I will live and die by the Code.

I pledge my allegiance to the Order, the one and only truth.

I vow my life to thee, over sky above and ground below.

To kill, to die, or to bleed, my eyes only see one Order.

Soldier by soldier, side by side,

Never shall I break these words, or Death will reap the victor.

United we fight, against all opposed.

This is the truth, as is our Code.

As a Warrior for the Order, I knew there were no rules higher than that of our Code. As I looked again at Calum, bloody and damaged and weak, I knew he was no different than the Warrior kids I once dominated.

As long as he didn’t smile, I would be fine.

Fearlessness, again, would be my greatest strength.

The Order was right, as always. It had to be. I couldn’t believe otherwise.

Instead, I thought of my mission, and dug deep into the power and control I took from it. I knew this: Being fearless gave you power, gave you control, and nothing was more valuable to a Warrior than that.

Nothing.

Then a memory, falling over me, shattering me: My father’s smile as he kissed me goodnight. The way he pushed my hair behind my ears, his hands so warm and rough.

Another: I stood with a boy, Adam. His hands against my sides. I smiled as he did. His hands were warm against my skin, so warm I could feel nothing else, until his lips met mine and that was all I knew instead.

Then, there were smiles. Always smiles.

Now, I felt those smiles in my throat, burning and choking me until, like before, I felt nothing else.

I could see Adam’s eyes in my mind, so much like Calum’s yet so different, whenever I let darkness fall across my own.

It was nothing new; I thought of old memories daily. Those old smiles stuck in my heart, hurting, and like always, I pushed them deeper until they were nothing.

My throat burned.

My heart was on fire.

Nothing is more important.

They are gone.

Gone.

Nothing.

I opened my mouth to start my story, but words failed me. I had never been good with words, which was probably why I was so good with my hands.

With killing.

I blinked and felt the only words I knew how to speak without fail; the Warrior song repeated in my mind and, as I pulled the stolen Jeep to the side of the deserted highway, those grave words of comfort gave me strength.

The rain beat down hard as we slowed to a stop. I took solace in the fact that there wasn’t a single car for miles, though probably only because the storm was getting too strong. Or because the entire state was dead or gone or possessed by the Orieno.

I turned to look at Calum again and felt the sudden urge to punch him hard in the face so his nose broke in pieces. Around him I felt too much of who I used to be. He reminded me of a part of my past I couldn’t forget. A part I
needed
to forget.

These thoughts had haunted me since the first day I saw him: He made me feel like the girl I tried to forget, not the Warrior I was.

I ground my teeth together and thought of Marcus’ words:
Tell him what you must to get him to the compound, nothing more and nothing less.

Calum’s voice was filled with need, with an angry desire for answers. “Kate? Tell me the truth. Tell me what’s going on. You owe me that much.”

I recognized his need, that unshakable desire, but he was wrong.

I owed him nothing.

I felt a laugh, sick with bubbles, slide up my throat and out to this: “Truth.”

There was so much about the truth that I wanted to change. At night, when I was alone, sometimes the heavy truths of my world hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe for hours.       

More secrets I kept.

I took a deep breath. I needed to feel Calum out, to see what truth he was after so I could hide the rest. I wondered, maybe, if I wouldn’t have to tell him much after all. “What do you want to know first?”

His chest rose and fell. I felt time crawl by in what seemed like hours, days even, while his eyes closed and opened and closed. It was an eternal moment wrapped in something smaller; a moment before a truth.

Calum’s eyes opened in a blur of brooding blue. His lips parted as his shoulders lifted and he turned to look out the window. In the glass, or maybe just because of the rain, I saw the wetness of his eyes. His voice was deep and quiet when he said, “Tell me your story.”

I felt my heart explode. “What?”

I remembered.

Adam.

Together we were under the apple tree in my backyard, our legs entangled, the wind whistling softly around us. His touches seemed to linger forever on my skin.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you today,” Adam said as he bit into a deep red apple. The juice stuck to his lips, and I couldn’t help but bring a hand up to touch my own.

I felt as red as the apple in his hand.

I whispered, “Me too.”

“Let’s hide here forever.”

My entire heart screamed: “I will if you will.”

He smiled and laced his fingers in mine.

“You know,” he breathed, “yesterday was my birthday.”

“Tell me about it. How old are you now?”

He grinned. “Mom says I’m thirteen going on thirty.”

I laughed. It felt good to laugh with Adam.

“I only just turned twelve last month.”

“Twelve is my favorite number.” He turned his face to me, still smiling. “You know what I wished for when I blew out my candles?”

I held my breath. “What?”

I felt his thumb rub against my palm. “You.”

My heart was beating too fast, but not fast enough.

I felt like running and crying and laughing all at once, but I could only smile.

“Me?” I asked.

We were all breaths and whispers, nothing more.

He nodded. “But now it’s your turn. I want to know all about the girl I met today, the girl in the pretty red dress who couldn’t stop twirling in the park as the world passed her by. You looked like you were about to fly away. I want to know about that girl. Tell me your story.”

Calum turned his head toward me, but all I could see was my lost boy:
Adam, Adam, Adam
. All I could see was his wild brown hair and pale blue eyes. All I saw was him.

I whispered, “What?” and the forgotten softness of my voice made me think of times gone by.

I am not that girl anymore
, my mind screamed
. She is dead
.

“Tell me your story.” Calum’s voice was louder, and with the loss of those sweet whispers the image of Adam was gone. “Tell me why you took me, why you’d rather let me die than let me go. Why
me
? Why you?”

The thought invaded my mind in an instant, and then was gone:
Because you remind me of someone I used to know.

And then, shocked:
You remind me of me

“Tell me your story,” he said again, quieter than before.

“Okay,” I said. I reminded myself that I could kill Calum with just two fingers. Three, if I wanted to make the pain last.

Still, I’d lived nearly five years in the Order without questions, so this sudden avalanche of them was choking. It felt like I couldn’t breathe correctly. I didn’t know why, maybe because he reminded me of so much, but I had the urge to trust Calum.

I couldn’t.

I didn’t know where to begin. I didn’t
want
to begin. Somehow, that moment felt like the beginning would end everything. Could I trust myself to begin?

I had to.

“It starts with my family.” I forced my voice to relax, made myself calm, but it didn’t help; I could feel myself growing weak and pathetic as I remembered what once was. What would never be again. “My family is the reason I’m part of this war, and you’re the reason there is one. Our stories kind of intertwine.”

His face was tilted to the side. Softly, as if it were a reflex, he pulled his right hand up to his hair and brushed it behind his ear. I could hear him breathing and I tried to mimic mine to match his.

In and out and in.

I’d forgotten what it was like to breathe in time with someone else, almost as if we were one.

“Why are you smiling?” Calum asked.

I turned away. “I’m not!”

“Okay,” he agreed, eyebrow raised, and I found myself wishing he would have argued instead.

He was
so
human. Had so many emotions dance across his face. So not me. Yet he wasn’t human at all. How he didn’t realize it was beyond me. Even a fool could see if they looked in his eyes; it was like he could see your soul and nothing was safe. No secrets could hide. Surely, the Order was right. Calum Wade was a descedant of the Devil.

What was I getting myself into?

I looked straight ahead, eyeing the empty road. In my mind I pictured myself twisting a rope three times around Calum’s neck, then hanging him from a tree so his feet wiggled below. I wasn’t sure which part of the image I liked better; the part that he was powerless-

“Kate,” he urged.

or that he was close to death.

“Five years ago I thought family was forever,” I began, and walked into an old dream I could never make true. I choked against it. I felt the girl in the pretty red dress hug me, sad. “I remember Christmas as though it were yesterday: The feelings, the food, the warmth. I remember laughing all the time and playing with my sisters. Being free. Now everything is different; I know those feelings only exist when you’re alone. True freedom exists when you have no one but yourself.”

Calum’s lips puckered, and his eyes went still.

I didn’t care that he didn’t agree now.

He would, and that was enough.

“Five years ago, when I was twelve, we were having dinner together like always. Mom and Dad always made us eat together.” I shook my head. “I think I hated it sometimes. I know I did that night because I wanted to meet someone after.”

Calum breathed, “Who?”

“No one,” I said, but I remembered a photograph I kept secret under my pillow: Adam with ice cream dripping down his nose, a silly grin on his face. He had one of me, too. I laughed so hard that day I cried. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Two days later, that photograph had burned to ash with the rest of my memories. With my life.

“I used to think my parents were perfect. Mom and Dad both had matching tattoos on their right hands, just big enough to fit under a dime,” I continued. “I always thought it was so romantic that they had matching ones, but now I know the truth.”

“Truth?” Calum asked. He looked nervous, as though my words were knives held against his flesh, puckering the skin but not drawing blood.

It was a nice thought.

“The tattoo, a circle with interconnecting lines like a net, is the symbol of the Order. My parents were members of the same group I’m in, the one that protects the world from all evil. Only, they betrayed us. They didn’t deserve...”