Chapter 14
HYPOTHESIS
Cyrus smiled and winked his way through the crowd of guests, trying not to grimace as hands passed over his chest—they treated him like he was some object. He’d have to bathe himself in his doll’s scent after this night was over to replace their searching hands and strong perfumes and colognes.
He’d left Xara and Keir on the dance floor.
The one who tasted of bitter lies hadn’t needed much to lure her into a dance.
Her Soulbond, however, had been difficult.
The muscled, yet playful man had been staring at someone in the distance most of the time they’d been at the table talking.
When Cyrus let just a hint of red slip through and sip at him, he’d tasted longing and regret.
Nothing like the fear and anxiety and lies that leaked from the girl by his side.
It wasn’t the first time Cyrus had tasted that from Vesperin’s roommate.
When he’d been forced to shut away with her in those fledgling days, when he’d been solely hers, he’d resigned himself to surviving off the scant sips from beneath the locked bedroom door and the open bedroom window.
Xara’s lies had filled his belly like gummy black licorice.
A masked server passed, balancing a tray with a singular flute of sparkling pale pink liquid. Parched, Cyrus grabbed it with a nod. It tasted of fizzy, artificial berries.
Vesperin had been gone almost their allotted thirty minutes.
Worry filled Cyrus, making his steps drag as he walked to their empty table in the Starlit corner.
He sat heavily, pressing his fingers to his temples to stave off the sudden headache.
Nausea churned in his gut, and he worked so hard to keep from throwing up all over the tablecloth that he missed the presence at his back, hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stand before he could react, dragging him into the shadows.
Rin blindly reached forward, feeling the firm warmth of the handle of Auren’s scythe. When her fingers wrapped around it, light immediately bloomed, filling the room.
A woman stood just at the precipice of the room. Her sleek red hair fell over her shoulders, and her silver gown clung to her hips, swishing as she took a step back. Something about her was familiar, and as Lucien said her name once more, she realized—
"She was the woman you were speaking with at your table," Rin accused.
"I didn’t speak to her," Lucien said, just as the woman—Jessa—interjected:
"I wanted his help."
"With what?" Rin asked.
"I’m a reporter undercover tonight. I’m working on building a story against Blackfall Industries and the Hunter’s Guild—the corruption runs deep.
" Jessa’s eyes finally landed on the papers.
"What is this place? And those blue glowing tubes?
I tried to take a photo for documentation, but my camera stopped working. "
Lucien stormed forward. "You need to leave. It is dangerous for you to be down here. Why did you follow me?"
"I saw you leave," said Jessa. "I can’t explain what came over me. I wanted to catch you and see if you thought about my proposal."
Proposal? Rin thought. She was being absurd; she shoved her silly jealousy down.
Jessa’s eyes seemed intelligent and curious as she stared at the room.
It was the type of curiosity Rin wished she could have—without all the fear.
She was still reeling from what she’d learned.
That Lucien had been the one to create this…
this device. A Nova Spire? She surreptitiously folded the paper and tucked it in the top of her dress, nestled just above her ribs.
"Did anyone see you?" Auren asked.
Jessa seemed to finally realize what she’d walked into was something far bigger than herself. Her eyes flitted from Auren’s cloak to his scythe. "You’re a Soul Searcher."
"You must leave from here. If anyone saw you come this way, we are all at risk," Auren continued. "Did anyone see you?"
"I—no, I don’t think so." The reporter’s lips parted again and again, her fingers loose around the flashlight in her hand. She slowly gathered herself. "I was right, wasn’t I? If a Soul Searcher is here—there’s something going on."
Auren studied her. "Yes, though I am unsure of your full suspicions. The Hunter’s Guild is not what they seem, nor is Blackfall Industries."
"You’re Prince Cyrus’s Soulbond," Jessa said to Rin.
Rin’s eyes immediately went to Lucien’s, not knowing what to say. He nodded, just once.
"I am," said Rin.
Jessa’s brows furrowed. "He left earlier, just after I followed Lucien. You didn’t go with him?"
"What do you mean, left?" Rin stepped forward, fear making her heart pound.
That sickening need to cough stirred inside her.
She pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle the sound—but it was so loud, regardless, echoing.
Lucien quickly reached for her, his hand against the back of her head as he pressed her face to his chest. Her coughs were stifled against him as his other hand soothed over her back.
Lucien shushed her. When the coughing fit faded, she slowly pulled away from his chest, embarrassed.
He pressed his fingertips beneath her jaw to take her pulse.
She knew it wasn’t good. His lips moved as he counted, mouth tightening as her heart rate quickened.
"We should go. We’ve stayed down here far too long.
" Lucien took her hand and started to pull her away.
She didn’t realize just how weak she felt, how clammy her skin had grown.
Jessa ignored the three of them, walking to the board as she stared at the drawings.
"What about her?" Auren asked from Rin’s side.
Lucien huffed. "We cannot leave her."
Auren dipped his chin, turning gracefully as he walked back to gather the curious reporter.
It was only a few extra seconds. Barely a few good breaths, but even more heartbeats for Rin.
That was all the time it took for everything to come crashing down.
Pounding footsteps echoed from beyond as guards rounded the corner, guns drawn and trained right on them. Simultaneously, Lucien grabbed her, all but throwing her behind him. She staggered back as she felt her chest seize.
She didn’t stop until her hips bumped into a desk, then further still, until she felt the cool steel of a door pressing against her spine. There, she stayed.
The soldiers parted—at least ten of them—revealing the sinister smile of her adoptive mother, trailed by Talor.
Sabine tsked. "I believe we have trespassers." Her eyes settled on Rin. "Apprehend them."
The guards, wearing heavy black armor and tactical gear—not the faceless masked guards above, but true, trained, deadly soldiers—surged forward.
One grabbed Lucien’s arm, where he stood between them and Rin, protecting her.
Auren was still. When she met his eyes, he made a subtle hand signal, a gesture to wait, as he slowly began to raise his scythe.
Heart in her throat, Rin nodded jerkily.
The concrete shuddered beneath Rin’s heels suddenly. The door pressing against her back vibrated. It was her only warning before it cracked, forcing her to stumble forward with a gasp, trying to get away. A hand slammed against the center of the steel door, leaving a perfect print.
The door caved in with a groan of bent steel, forced outward beneath the inhumane strength of—
"Kit," Vesperin gasped.
Kit breathed heavily, shaking dust from his hair as he stood tall. It was a mere habit. He did not grow tired.
Return to the base. Return—
He could trace the shape of the letters from memory. They never left him.
And now, they were imprinted over the vision of Vesperin. She wore a blue gown. Small things were stuck to the fabric’s ripples. It was… intriguing to him. Pretty. He wanted to ruin it. His mind had latched onto her, refusing to let her go.
He was obsessed.
Filled with the compulsive need to seek, to possess.
To crush.
Staring at her, it might be more than that. This was not the first time Kit wanted to protect—and not just hold her so tightly in his arms, she turned to dust.
She was all he saw at this moment.
Vesperin stumbled back, cherry red lips parting. "Kit." Her voice wavered. "Kit, you’re here."
"Vesperin," Kit said on a ragged exhale.
His eyes swept to the shadows, to a white-cloaked male he remembered.
The graveyard, the reality that had crashed down around him, sounding like bloody screams, suppressed shots in the head, smoke filling his lungs as his entire world ended in the Stars.
A weight crushing his body. No oxygen. Then nothingness.
Only to return to pain and fear as he had been cut up and put back together all wrong. A stitched, half-metal monster.
Everything had narrowed to revenge, but one thing pushed through it all. And that was her.
Guns clicked, raising. He seethed at the soldiers who held them up. They had formed a circle. Protecting someone? No one could run from him.
Kit’s boots shuffled over the stone as he dragged himself closer to her.
"Eight letters." He bared his teeth, sucking in air.
"Three vowels. Five consonants." Each syllable punched out of him was punctuated by the tapping of his fingers on his thigh.
"I have searched for you. I have hunted you.
You evade me. You ran from me." The monotone lilt that usually colored his tone was chased away by a sudden visceral need.
There was a pit in his Soul. He made a fist with his right hand.
The wires connected to his brain knew what he wanted the metal to do.
There was a faint whirring as he thumped over his chest. "I need you. I need you to make it stop."
He was almost begging.
Almost.
Vesperin’s eyes were darkened by something that shimmered on her lids. She blinked away tears, but not fast enough. One escaped, racing down her pale cheeks. He wanted to swallow it down. Maybe it would rid him of this emptiness.
Nothing could break through this haze. All he saw, all he wanted was—