Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Adrian
“What you’re planning is suicide. We have the numbers, but they have the Guardians. I didn’t agree to this, Dominic.”
— As Spoken by Logan Harris to Dominic Hill at a Meeting of the Resistance
The Dark answered a call I hadn't known I'd made, rising to the surface of my skin, puffing out from my palms and writhing around my wrists.
It leaked from me, riding a wave of fury as it crept closer to my wide-eyed former partner.
It caressed my hips, my ribs, my arms as it spread throughout the tent, blocking out the light from beyond and shuttering the glowing flame of Prima's candle.
It felt like him against my skin. Phantom touches, memories of the last time he'd held me in his arms, the last night I'd shared his bed, played over my skin. And the Darkness pulsed.
“Adrian,” Zya hissed from somewhere so very far away.
I cocked my head to the side, expecting him to cower, but Dante of House Viper never cowered. Not when he had an audience, at least.
A snarl ripped free from my throat and then I was lunging for him. I was going to kill him, I decided. I was going to end him here the way he thought he'd ended me in that pit.
No one stopped me.
I howled in fury and the Darkness exploded from me, colliding into Dante’s chest and sending him flying through the shredded canvas behind him.
I didn’t waste a second on marveling at the destructive power I’d unleashed.
Instead, I stepped straight out of Prima’s tent through the hole I’d made in it, following my prey into the sand.
Dante was on his knees now, breathing raggedly as he raised his gaze to mine.
Our eyes locked. Sharp, vibrant green I’d once seen in my dreams. I stormed toward him and the corruption followed, trailing eagerly at my heels, racing through the sand ahead.
He looked away from me to watch it, shuffling away, trying and failing to get to his feet.
I glared at him as it snaked up his calves, over his thighs and above his torso.
His composure finally cracked when it slid into his nostrils and down his throat.
He sputtered a cough a moment later, eyes meeting mine, frantic.
He squirmed in the sand, hands swiping side to side as though he could swat it away, could fight it.
Then his lips were open and I could see the darkness swirling inside, choking him.
He gagged, falling forward on his arms, heaving.
I watched but did nothing. He’d abandoned me to the dark. Now, it would consume him.
But then I saw the chains. I stared down at them where they clanked against his wrists as his hands clawed at his own throat. The Dark crept between the links, slipped under the metal where it rested against his flesh.
My eyes slid back to his and I saw the fear there. Dante had always been a good actor but I recognized him for what he was now. No more than a scared little boy playing with deities he didn't understand, with lives he couldn't comprehend. Pathetic.
I let the corruption withdraw. I pulled it back toward me until it vanished once more, dissipating beneath my flesh.
Dante gasped, wheezing as he fought to regain the air he’d lost. I stepped back and crossed my arms. Then I turned to Prima who still sat behind her desk, watching with interest through the hole in her tent as if this was mere entertainment for her.
“What’s he doing here?” I spat. “How is he here?”
"Come back inside, Adrian," she said, her voice strong, stable, but I could see the fear in her eyes as well. She feared me. The leader of the Fallen, the ancient legendary hero of Sanctuary, the girl I'd grown up idolizing feared me.
I glanced down at my hands. The Darkness was no longer there, sliding between my fingers, rolling over my wrists, but I could feel it all the same, writhing just beneath the surface waiting to be let out again.
I'd wanted to unleash it, I realized. I'd wanted to allow it to devour Dante, to hurt him as he'd hurt me.
It had felt so good watching him, the chosen boy of the First Ring, suffer for once.
And it hadn't felt good only for the vengeance, either.
It had felt good to use that power. It was ecstasy, falling into a part of me I'd never known before, wielding a magic that was wholly and utterly mine.
It wasn't an abomination given by the gods and dubbed a Blessing.
It wasn't a political game or strategic fight.
It was me. It was a part of me and, now that I knew it, I couldn't bear the thought of never using it again.
But then I saw Dante's chains and Prima's face and remembered that dreamland I'd fallen into before.
This was a power one could lose themself in.
This was a power meant to be feared, to be restrained, used only when necessary.
This wasn't something to play with. It had ended worlds, sent men with the power of gods fleeing to another.
They called it Darkness, Corruption. They built cities of light and magic to keep it away.
They'd murdered and captured thousands to save themselves from the force of it and, in their hypocrisy, had become the feared. I wouldn't do the same.
I lowered my hands to my sides and looked up through a curtain of light brown hair that shone in the desert sun.
"Tell me why he's here," I spoke with a much softer voice, making it clear this was a request. I wasn't a threat, not to her, anyway. And not now.
I took a few steps toward the tent, leaving Dante in the dust behind me, and everyone inside visibly relaxed.
“A gift,” she replied with a shrug.
“From who?” I asked carefully, my mind already racing. Was this a message from the Geist? A warning? Or an offering?
“The humans,” Prima said. “They sent their spy in to capture him. For you.”
Her tone darkened, her meaning clear. I was back inside the tent now. Even though there was a giant hole in the side, our conversation could be afforded a bit more privacy now that we weren't shouting across the desert to one another.
“For me,” I repeated, slowly.
“It’s an offer,” Prima explained. “They want to work with us against the Geist. Now that you’re here, they seem to think it’s time.”
“It is.”
Everyone turned to me at that. I could hear Dante rising from the sand and shuffling toward us again.
I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. I was too afraid that if I did, I might try to kill him again.
And I knew now no one would stop me. If I lost control, there would be nothing stopping me from strangling him with my magic or my own bare hands, whatever came first. And I wasn't sure I could be that person.
Not to him. Even though I couldn't think of anyone who deserved it more.
“Excuse me?” Prima was asking, brow raised and waiting.
“We should attack the Geist,” I told her, getting on with what I'd originally come to this tent to discuss. “I'd hoped we could have struck first but they managed that with their attack during the festival.”
Prima was already shaking her head.
“Pavos is too well defended,” she said. “You aren’t ready for—”
“Not Pavos,” I interrupted. “Sanctuary.”
Prima’s lips parted in the first real show of surprise I’d ever seen from the immortal leader of the Fallen.
“Sanctuary…” she repeated slowly, eyes flicking up to Gryfon behind me, but her loyal warrior remained silent.
“Are you out of your mind?” another voice questioned. Just the sound of it made my fists clench at my sides. He'd reached the tent again.
“I assure you,” I spoke slowly as I turned my gaze to meet Dante’s, hoping he saw the danger in my expression for what it was, “I'm saner than I've ever been.”
He just watched me, that impenetrable frown on his lips, hiding behind that mask of cold, cruel indifference I'd managed to crack back in Sanctuary. I hated it. I hated him.
“Can she do it?” Prima asked, ignoring us as her focus remained on her general.
“I don’t know,” Gryfon answered honestly.
I rolled my eyes at his lack of support. I never should have expected more, I supposed.
“But it’s worth a shot,” he continued, surprising me. “Adrian’s right. It’s time we struck back. The people of Sanctuary have been imprisoned long enough.”
“Sanctuary isn’t a prison,” Dante argued even as Prima nodded thoughtfully in response.
“Not for its wardens,” Gryfon countered, casting a glare toward Dante that had my former partner actually backing up a step.
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my lips at that.
“Our families are there,” Zya spoke, her voice soft and pleading, far more gentle than I'd ever heard it before. “My parents, my sister. Adrian’s mom and her brothers. Darius’ parents and his sister.
They don’t know, Prima. They don’t know about any of this.
They don’t know the truth. That their whole world is an elaborate cage meant to keep them locked out of reality.
We can't let them keep living like that. We can’t. ”
Her tone was so full of pleading, her words so moving, I saw Prima’s jaw clench and knew the decision was made before she spoke.
“We need a plan,” she barked, eyes snapping to Gryfon. “A good one. Security around Sanctuary is all but nonexistent these days but we'll lose if they bring even a few Geist to the battle. Even a handful of Victors would be devastating to our cause. There aren't enough of us.”
“They’ve sent a couple of squadrons since Adrian escaped,” Gryfon informed her as she rose from her seat.
“How many? Any Geist among them?”
"No Geist. Three, as far as I could tell, but I saw the same one more than once. Their best."