Fractured Truth (20 page)

I went inside my room and closed the door. I didn’t immediately turn on the lights when darkness enveloped me. I stayed in the cold, black cocoon, breathing deeply, until I felt it shouldn’t be entertained any further. Just enough for added strength.

Mentally turning on the lights, I headed straight for bed, kicking my shoes off in passing. The mattress groaned when I collapsed into it. I reached under my pillow to tuck it up under me, but I felt something that shouldn’t be there. I pulled it out and stared.

A slip of paper folded in half. Just like the daily notes Christian used to leave me. Before.

I opened it hesitantly. Four words in what I hoped was red
paint, although my heightened sense of smell told me it wasn’t, stared back at me.

You Are My Forever

Christian’s handwriting. I crumpled it up and tossed it across the room. How did it get here? I stood up and inspected the room. The window was locked. Someone had brought it in here. Probably the same person who had let Jackson out of his cell. I pulled my fist back and was about to smash it into the wall but stopped. The Vyken’s dark poison was humming just beneath my skin. I breathed deeply, in and out, trying hard to get it under control.

A knock at the door made me jump. “Who is it?”

“Can we talk?” Liam’s voice.

“It’s not a good time.”

“Why?”

Because I’m trying to prepare to kill someone I love.
I opened the door. “What’s up?”

He looked past me into the room. “You okay?”

“Daisies and bunnies.”

“You want to get some ice cream downstairs?”

“What are we, twelve?”

He stared at me for a moment, then lowered his gaze to my neck, to where Christian’s necklace used to be. “I know what you’re doing,” he said.

“Then let me do it.”
And go away
, I wanted to add. Just having him near me made the world not seem so dark. But it was, and I had to hang onto this so I could kill Christian.

Liam reached up as if to touch me but stopped. “You know where to find me,” he said and walked away.

I wanted to call after him, to rid myself of the pain, but it was mine to bear. I closed the door.

For the next three days, Rose stayed in her room to prepare for the swap. I didn’t know what exactly that entailed, but she
said that she was going to need a lot of saved-up mental strength to pull off our plan.

I left her alone so I could spend every possible second training Auras. Even though we’d found a way to keep them out of the upcoming confrontation, I knew it was just a matter of time before they were all going to have to fight for their lives. Sunrise to sunset, I taught them everything I knew. Afterward I would run for hours in the forest to keep Light from making me soft, but then dawn would come, and I’d have to train hard using Light to keep the darkness at bay. It was a delicate balance.

“You’ve got to slow down,” Tessa said whenever she saw me. Somehow she sensed my inner struggle. Because of this I avoided her just like I did Liam.

It was Rose I went to those nights. She didn’t judge, didn’t give advice, just shared her life story, and that is exactly what I needed: to hear about someone else’s life and not think about mine.

Rose was born just before the first Crusades in 1092. She was raised by her mother in a small village while her father, a soldier for France, was away fighting in one of many wars.

Rose was the only child until she turned twelve, and her mom gave birth to conjoined twin girls. The difficult labor resulted in her mother’s death only hours after giving birth. A year later their father returned and, seeing their deformity, sought to take their lives, but Rose took them and ran away deep into the forest.

Her mother had taught her well, including teaching her witchcraft. Through many personal trials and sacrifices, she raised the twins in an abandoned shack in the mountains, eventually turning it into a comfortable home. The tragedy of her mother’s death and her father’s betrayal made her into a powerful witch. She shared her knowledge with her sisters.

They lived alone for a couple of decades, only occasionally visited by those from the village who knew of their abilities. They were those who also had supernatural gifts and were
drawn to the witches’ power. It wasn’t long after when regular humans began to appear at their door, wanting them to cast specific spells, such as making a person richer or to curse an enemy. Rose and her sisters didn’t mind at first; they loved the extra money, but with the fame came negative attention as well.

This is the part of the story Rose didn’t like to talk about. From what I could gather, Rose and her sisters were eventually taken to Paris and almost killed for being witches, but they fought back. Many lives were lost by their hands.

I could tell Rose felt guilt for this period during her life. This is when the Shadow was created, “to seek revenge on all those who had hurt us.” But the Shadow had been made in haste, and not even the witches fully understood its power until it was too late.

I was lying in bed, having left Rose’s room no more than an hour ago, when Rose’s story found its way into my dreams. It had been days since I slept well, and the images battering my mind were not pleasant. There were people all around me, all dead and bloodied. I stood in the center of them, my crimson-stained hands spraying Light into their already lifeless bodies.
It’s self-defense
, I reasoned. They deserved it.

I sat up, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. My red curtains billowed as a cool breeze blew through my open window. I squinted my eyes, trying to recall when I had opened it. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, but when I moved to stand up, a folded paper fell from my bed.

“Not again,” I whispered.

I’d received several letters from him, sometimes three or four at a time, all written in blood. They came at random times, so I had no hope of catching who was delivering them, short of sitting in front of my room all day, which I simply didn’t have time for. For the most part I’d managed to ignore the letters, but this time was different. My bedroom window was open. Could he have gotten in here? Or was it Cyrus’s mole playing games with me? Whatever it was, it had to stop.

I picked up the note and opened it:

You’re even more beautiful when you’re asleep.

No more. I stuffed the note into my back pocket, then walked to my small black garbage can. The only items in it were Christian’s crumpled up notes. I picked up the whole canister and carried it downstairs, straight to Dr. Han’s office. The door was open. I went inside but stopped when I saw that he was talking to Liam.

Liam stood up. “What’s wrong?”

I looked down at the garbage bin in my hand, almost changing my mind. But then I remembered the open window.

“This is wrong,” I said and shook the notes onto the desk.

“What is this?” Dr. Han asked.

“Just read them.”

One by one, they smoothed out the papers and read over them.

“They’re written in blood,” Liam whispered.

Dr. Han looked up at me. “I assume these are from Christian?”

“Of course they’re from him. Every day several of these annoying letters show up. This whole time I thought it was our pesky traitor, whom you still haven’t identified”—I stared hard at Dr. Han—“but this morning, after waking up from much needed sleep, I found my window wide open and this note.” I removed the letter and dropped it onto the desk.

Liam read it first. He stood up abruptly and left the room.

“Liam!” Dr. Han called. When Liam didn’t return, Dr. Han turned to me. “We’ll discuss this later. Go after him.”

I did as he asked, berating myself for exposing the letters the way that I did. I should’ve done it with Dr. Han in private and not in front of Liam. The halls were empty, but the remnants of a strong breeze stirred dust across the marbled floor. Now I was worried. He never used his abilities unless he was
angry or absolutely had to. I sprinted down the hall and pressed open the door. Liam, his jacket pulled over his head on account of the morning sun, was just getting into his car.

“Liam!”

He slammed the door instead of answering me. I reached the passenger door just as he was pulling away. He pressed on the brakes when I jumped inside.

“Get out,” he said.

“Where are you going?” I admit I was a little freaked out seeing him this angry. Every part of him was tense; even the steering wheel was flexing beneath his tight grip.

He worked his jaw, clenching and unclenching it a few times, then said, “I’m done, Llona.”

“With what?”

He turned to me, his eyes no longer a vibrant green but more the color of a raging sea. “Christian. I’m going to kill him.”

I didn’t say anything. I should’ve realized those letters would upset him, but I would never have guessed this much. “We’ll get him when the time is right,” I said, my voice hard.

“I hate procrastinating. This has gone on too long, and I can’t stand to see what he’s doing to you.”

“But I’m okay. I promise.”

“No, you’re not. You’re deliberately embracing your Vyken half because you don’t think you’re strong enough to fight the man you love.”

“Loved,” I was quick to say.

Liam let go of the steering wheel. “No, love. If you didn’t still love him, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to feel emotionless.”

I looked straight ahead, swallowing hard. “That’s not it at all.”

“If you say so, but know that I’m here for you. Always will be. Let me help you.”

“No one can help me.” This much I knew because in the end it would be me alone facing Death, him being the type of creature unaffected by another’s strength.

Liam shook his head in frustration. “That’s not true. We work well together, remember? Why are you pushing me away?”

It was my turn for silence. I felt his eyes on me.

“Llona?”

I didn’t look at him when I finally spoke. “You make me weak, all soft and mushy inside. I can’t have that right now.”

When he didn’t say anything, I glanced over at him. He was grinning. “I make you mushy inside?”

“Look, whatever is between us, I can’t think about it right now. I have to stay focused on ending this with Cyrus. I want May back, and Sophie and the others. And I can’t think about how it used to be between Christian and me. The only way I’m going to be able to do all that is if I stay emotionless.”

“And I get that. More than you know, but we’re better and stronger together.”

I looked into his eyes, back and forth into each eternal green pool.

“Say we’ll do it together,” Liam said, “or I’m leaving right now to kill Christian and anyone who gets in my way.”

My pulse raced, but I took a deep breath to steady the beat. I couldn’t think about the depth of his feelings toward me, not right now. “It would be suicide,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice even.

“But if it would give you some peace, I’d do it.”

“That’s stupid.”

“I never claimed to be smart.”

“But you are honest.” I leaned against his shoulder, and he put his arm around me. “Together then.”

We stayed in the car a little while longer before returning to Dr. Han’s office. Once again Liam had grounded me, and I felt better, stronger somehow.

Dr. Han was in the middle of speaking with Mrs. Crawford and Abigail when we walked in. He stopped when he saw us. “Close the door behind you,” he said to Liam. “And thanks for coming back and not doing something foolish.”

I sat down next to Abigail on a leather love seat. She patted my knee and whispered, “How are you doing?”

“Good. You?”

She looked around the room nervously. “Times are scary right now.”

“Llona,” Dr. Han said, “I told these two about the letters.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Crawford said, “but I want you to know that I’ve been trying to figure out who let Jackson out and now who put these letters in your room. I’ve interviewed all the teachers about where they were during the Council’s meeting, but no one knows anything. Everyone’s whereabouts are accounted for.”

“Could someone be getting in here without us knowing?” Liam asked. “Is there a chance Christian was in her room?”

I shivered at the thought.

“Unlikely,” Dr. Han said. “I spoke to the Lycans, and they didn’t see or hear anything.”

Liam tensed. “They could’ve easily missed it.”

“I don’t think so. As you know, they can sense movement a mile away.”

“Maybe they deliberately let someone pass.”

“What about Ms. Hady?” I asked, interrupting their conversation. “Where was she?”

Mrs. Crawford answered, “She was in the meeting with everyone else.”

“Did you see her?”

She furrowed her brow as if trying to remember. “I saw her at the beginning, and she hugged me at the end.”

“But could she have snuck out?” Liam asked.

Abigail leaned forward and scooted to the edge of her seat. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, but when I
embarrassingly
stormed from the meeting, I saw her. She was getting into the elevator.”

“You should’ve said something sooner,” Dr. Han said. He turned to Mrs. Crawford. “I want you to talk to her.”

“But this is Susan we’re talking about,” she said. “This school and the girls are her life.”

“I know, but she was in my office earlier this week and was really upset. I’ve never seen that side of her before. Just talk to her. See what she has to say about that day, but don’t tell her what Abigail said. If she seems at all suspicious, tell her to come see me. Say whatever you need to get her here.”

Mrs. Crawford lowered her head. “I’ll do it, but I want you to know that it wasn’t her.” She left the room.

Abigail tilted her head toward me and in a low voice said, “Personally I’ve never liked Susan. The school is better off without her draconian rules.” She patted me on the knee, then stood up to follow Mrs. Crawford out.

Was Abigail right about Ms. Hady? Of all the teachers, she was the most upset by the recent changes, but enough to work with Cyrus?

“Tonight’s the night,” Dr. Han said, swiveling his chair away from his desk as if he were about to stand.