Lost Energy (22 page)

SAVIOR

F
ear cured most things. Hunger,
thirst…hope. It filled me up until it ate my insides, burrowing deep into my
psyche to remind me I was a piece of shit.

A failure.

I left them there, killed a mother
and her child because I wasn't strong enough.

My eyelids, heavy and thick,
refused to lift, forcing me to see their faces–Cara and her precious baby girl
screaming for us, needing us.
And we just left them
. My mind replayed the
same image of those lights swallowing them up, disintegrating them to ash.

Wake up!

My eyes shot open and pain lanced
my brain. The static was gone, but the memories of it a dull, throbbing
reminder. I tried to breathe, but panic forming in my throat made it difficult to
do properly. Hyperventilating created clouds of dizziness. I tried to get up,
but slammed back onto a floating surface as soft as velvet. When my movement
made the swaying worse, I rolled to the edge of a bed and released all the
dried apricots and fish from my stomach.

A bucket scooted under the vomit stream,
the heaves so violent I almost fell to the floor. Warm hands held me up and pulled
back my hair as I emptied the last of my stomach's contents, leaving a hole so
big I wanted to disappear in it, escape everything.

Sobs filled the room, distant at
first, but then blaring right inside my head, almost as loud as the Guides'
attack. Moisture coated my face, coming from my eyes, my nose…my mouth. I
couldn't do it anymore.

I couldn't.

"Shhh…I'm here, you're safe."

Familiar safety of soft arms held
tighter, the smell of vanilla pushing past the pain.

Wilma.

I clung to her, not opening my eyes
again, not wanting to face reality. Ever. She didn't force me and held on until
the very last sob escaped. Until nothing was left.

I wanted to go home, forget
everything.

I killed them.

My head stayed nestled in the crook
of her arm. She rocked me, stroked my hair. Said words I didn't bother to try
to comprehend. I cleaved to her voice. Too much. All of it had become too much.
I couldn't deal anymore.

Take me home!

Oblivion rescued me again. This
time, blackness gave me peace.

∞
∞ ∞

The next time my eyes opened, I managed
to hold onto my stomach, though nothing lingered there, anyway. Memories
created raw pain, but thankfully, emptiness helped to combat the tears. Wilma
still held me, gliding a finger up and down my arm, keeping me close.

I never wanted to leave her or this
spot again.

"I killed them, Wilma."
Tears I thought long gone flooded my eyes, and I pursed my lips to keep the
sobs inside.

"No, you didn't. Don't ever
think that." Her hand shook a little as she caressed my cheek, holding me
closer. "There wasn't anything you could've done."

My fingers pressed into her forearm,
and I curled closer to her. "The lights…they were so strong." The
tears let go again and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. "Why
couldn't I see them?
Why didn't I see?
"

She didn't answer, her chest
hiccupping as her arms tightened around me.

"I couldn't move…I couldn't
save Cara because…I…"

"Shh… Please, don't. They've
killed so many, and not a single life they've taken has been your fault."

"But–"

"No, damn it, stop. I mean it.
You have to stay strong, Lena. Stay strong."

I moved in closer, wishing I could
crawl inside her and hide from everything. "I don't know how anymore."

Her voice trembled, something I had
never heard. "Yes, you do. Remember, you're the strongest person I know."

I cried harder. "Tarek…he hates
me. I-I can't live without..."

"That boy could never hate
you! Trust me. He's in so much pain, I do believe he thinks the world is ending–and
his dimension probably isn't too pleasant to be in, what with him moping like a
teenager." She pulled away and made me look her in the eyes. "And you
could most definitely live without him even
if
that were the case. You
are not who you are because of him. You are who you are because in here,"
she pressed against my heart, "is fire and passion and courage. No one can
take that away, understand?"

I scooted closer, now almost on her
lap, and looked up. "Love you..."

She smiled, though I swear her eyes
filled up, making the blue bright like the sea. "Right back at you, honey.
Oh, which reminds me. You really think I'd waste centuries hanging out with an
asshole?"

Heat crawling from my neck to my
cheeks made me sweat. "He told you, huh?"

"More like yelled it inside my
head for an hour. The big bastard gave me one hell of a headache."

"He defended her, even after I
told him what she did."

She shrugged. "Well, of course
he did! He loved her."

Damn, that hurt. I lowered my head,
too empty to muster up any anger. "Yeah, well, he can have her."

"He does have her!
You
are her. Granted, she did let Exemplar defeat her in some ways, but she still
had compassion. She wanted change, and just because she wasn't perfect–"

"She used blackmail. Against
innocent people. That list..."

"Innocent? Honey, not a damn
person on that list is innocent of everything. Neither was she. Neither am I.
Hell, neither are you."

"But Winston said… He said…"

She shook her head and rolled off
the huge bed, which was beautiful with bright green silk sheets in an elegant
room with sandstone walls. "Winston cares about Winston. He also believes
in every man for himself, or woman, if you prefer. You…the old you…never put
herself first, not even for Tarek, whom she
did
love, mind you! Shitty
thing to say to that boy, young lady."

The more she talked, the stronger I
felt. Wilma's in-your-face reality checks always erased self-pity. "Yeah,
well…well…crap. You have any idea what it's like being jealous of yourself?"

"Nope, and you shouldn't be
either. Tarek loves
you
. He's in that damn hole for
you
. Old you
had nothing to do with that, seeing as how she isn't…damn. This gets too
complicated! Get over it."

I crawled off the bed, strength
seeping in to remind me of who I am, not who I was. "Okay, okay, you win.
I'll grovel, if he'll let me."

"
Let you?
I've been
telling him to stay out of your damn head since you came here. Told him to let
you cool off. He's going goddamn crazy."

"Well, can you tell him to
talk to me now, please? I need to hear him."

She put her hands on her hips. "Maybe,
if you act right. And why the hell didn't you wait until I said it was safe to
come?"

I fidgeted with a blanket, feeling
like an ass. "I-I was mad."

She slapped her forehead and
stomped to the window. "Mad?
Mad?
Well, you being mad got Farren
shot, missy."

Terror. News that created
nightmares.
No. Not Farren.
"Why didn't you tell me? Where is he? I
need to see him… please, God, don't let him be–"

"He's fine. Flesh wound to the
leg. But that damn scratch will make him less effective in the fight."

Relief turned my knees to water. I
held onto a nearby reading chair to keep from falling to the ground. "Why
didn't you say that in the first place?"

"Say what?" Her innocent
look didn't fool me one bit.

"Whatever, point taken. I'll
listen from now on. Still want to see Ginger, though." I looked around the
room, a fire lighting the area, giving the expensive gold and green furniture a
soft glow. Night poured in, the breeze stinking of smoke and fire. "Where
are we?"

"Not obvious?"

Teenesee's. "How did we…?"
I rubbed my jaw, still sore. The memory of Farren's fist slamming into my face
climbed to the surface. "That sonofabitch hit me."

"Good thing, too. I found him
outside the gate, screaming his fool head off, ten Protectors hot on his ass.
Brave kid. Dumb, but brave."

"He's not dumb."

She snorted and went to a dresser
in the far left corner of the room and ripped some clothes from the drawers. A
pair of pants, matching short-sleeved shirt, and tan sandals flew my way. I
caught the pants. The rest landed in a clothes puddle at my feet.

"Get cleaned up." She
pointed to a door, which I assumed was a bathroom. "All you're gonna do
for a couple days is rest, and then Teenesee wants to see you. Zander, too."

The mention of Zander reminded me
of something. "Wilma? The Guides…I couldn't see them. I can see Zander
when he's…you know, but them? They were invisible."

She pushed the curls off her
forehead and shrugged. "They're more advanced than Zander, like me and
Winston, you understand?"

"Yeah, sure." More
advanced assholes to wreak havoc on innocent people.

People like Cara and her baby.

I hesitated on my way to the
bathroom. The hole in my heart ached, even though Wilma made it smaller. "Wilma?"

She sighed. "What?"

"Do you think they're dead?"

The irritated scowl left her face,
replaced with compassion. I didn't have to tell her whom I meant. "I don't
know. Farren said–it's killing him, too, Lena."

"The baby…I held her." I
looked at my hands, the memory of her soft skin bringing back a fresh wave of
tears.

Once again, I was in Wilma's arms.
No smartass comments left her mouth. I felt love–and not the tough kind. "Listen,
whatever happens, I promise to find out one way or the other."

"Yeah?" I rubbed my eyes
on her red shirt, already stained with a night's worth of tears.

"Yeah."

"Wilma?"

"Yes?"

"Please have Tarek come to
me."

She touched my cheek with a sad
smile. "Soon."

BROTHER

T
he view from my window gave a clear
picture of the devastation. Smoke plumes trapped burnt-out villages, claiming
victory. The verdant fields I fell in love with the first time Tarek brought me
here were now muddy and void of foliage, barren of glowing rocks.

All those bodies, strewn on the
ground like trash…

They littered the field beyond the
drawbridge. Protectors' bodies, useless without their energy–energy Wilma said had
been collected by the Guides whose nest had yet to be found.

That was where I came into Winston's
plan. Avery and Zander, too. We'd find the nest and burn it. Kill them so our
side could collect the Protector energy from the bastards we planned on
slaughtering. At first, I had reservations. After the other night, revenge
replaced them. They'd die, and I was fine with that.

By the second morning, my body felt
strong enough to leave the room. My mind wasn't quite there, but hey, some
things weren't fixable with a few hours of sleep and dehydrated food washed
down with stale water.

No visits from Tarek didn't help my
head any, either. Wilma just kept saying, "Soon."

Our first stop was Farren's room. I
insisted. Every other problem and person could wait until I saw for myself that
he was okay.

We walked down the hall in silence,
Wilma abnormally quiet until she stopped at a door about five away from mine. "He's
in there." She studied her feet for a second before bringing her eyes to
mine. "They killed Teenesee's daughters. She refuses to speak with anyone.
We're hoping she'll talk to you."

Shock ripped through me, freezing
my hand on the knob. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did." She moved
to the side, folding her hands in front of her.

"You–"

"Hurry up, Lena. This isn't
the time." Her blue eyes shot daggers, but the sadness creeping in them silenced
my retort.

I nodded instead and pushed open Farren's
door. "Five minutes."

When the door shut, I adjusted to
the dim light. A thick blanket covered the window. It may have blocked out the
sight of destruction, but cries and shots, along with acrid smoke and rot, demanded
entry. Forgetting wasn't possible, but I could ignore it for a few minutes,
especially when I spotted Farren on the big floating bed, still asleep.

I ran to him, snuggling up to his
side. As usual, his eyes popped open and he darted up, wincing when he put
pressure on his leg. He turned to me and relief replaced the pain filling his
eyes. He then fell onto the mattress and gathered me up in his arms, saying
nothing. His chest moved erratically, breathing heavy, then not breathing for a
few seconds before returning in a rush.

I cried with him.

Long after five minutes passed, and
surprisingly no interruption from Wilma, Farren's breathing returned to normal,
as did mine.

I cleared my throat a few times. "You
hit me."

He laughed, pulling me closer, his
voice shaky. "You're welcome."

"Leave it to you to get
yourself shot." I pressed my fingers into his chest, making sure he was
there next to me.

"Yeah, well, you're not
exactly light. Slowed me down."

"Something you should never
say to any girl."

He stroked a finger up and down my
arm. "You're not
any
girl, kid."

My brother. Always. Forever. "Thank
you."

"Just the truth."

I sat up, needing to see his face. "When
Wilma told me you got shot…I almost died, right there."

He smiled, his eyes a little
swollen, and brushed hair from my eyes. "Can't get rid of me that easy,
remember? Besides, I don't think it's possible for you to live without me. Who'd
teach you how to give a proper right hook?"

No, I couldn't live without him and
not because of his skills in the ring. So many more reasons why bounced in my
head, threatening tears. I swiped at my eyes and pasted on a smile. "I
would
have a tough time, what with Belva kicking my ass for not protecting you."

The mention of my friend caused his
face to redden, his smile shining bright. "She's something, right? A
goddamned Arcus ancient. Whatever the hell that means for the future."

I hopped off the bed after giving
him a hug. "It doesn't matter because you'll be by her side."

He nodded, adjusting his bandaged
leg. "You got that right. We'll all live happily ever after in Arcus,
raising squid and swimming with elephants. One big fucked-up family."

I tried not to let Tarek into my
mind, but not thinking about him was like asking my heart to stop beating.
Neither possible.

"Guess we'll see."

∞
∞ ∞

The last thing I wanted to do was
leave Farren. I left anyway, promising to stop by as soon as I could. Wilma
still waited. Miraculously, no irritation marred her round face. "Ready?"

I swept a hand down the hall. "Lead
the way."

The walk took longer this time,
going past room after room. Silence taking over the huge manse bothered me, so
different from the pleasant chatter bouncing off the walls the last two times I'd
been here. Like the house mourned Teenesee's daughters, too.

By the time we stopped at a set of
large marble doors, I wanted to scream to create noise. Before Wilma opened
them, she grabbed my shoulders. "I need you to prepare yourself.
Teenesee…she's not the same."

"I'll be gentle."

Worry stained Wilma's cheeks. "That's
not all. All the killing has weakened her, especially since the bastards are
taking Empyrean energy too. She's using what she has left to protect this house."

Fear sizzled through my body,
making my fingertips numb. "What're we gonna do? What if–"

She shook her head, palming my
mouth and refusing to open the door. "See, that's not how I want you to
react. Be strong, confident. Make her feel like we have a fighting chance, get
her to see past her grief."

I swallowed, taking her hand from
my mouth but keeping hold of it, needing to steal her strength. "Do we
have a chance? Be honest. Can we win?"

She raised her chin. "Of
course, we can. Those fuckers are idiots." She shrugged. "Idiots with
large numbers and a lot of guns, but still idiots. And not one of them is
stronger than me or Winston."

Man, I hated being a pessimist. "Yeah,
but their numbers…"

"…mean shit. The plan is
solid." She cracked open the door. "Now, go sell that to her. Make
her believe her children didn't die for nothing."

I hesitated. "I'm not selling
her snake oil, am I?"

"I wouldn't agree to any
dumbass ideas."

"But–"

"Enough." She pulled the
door wide and thrust me in, closing it behind her.

"Lena!"

I turned to find Zander rushing
forward. I met him halfway, that familiar static filling my head. This fuzz was
welcomed, unlike the potent, hypnotizing effect the authority Guides had. The
dull buzz brought back memories–and not all bad. It reminded me of how I used
to be a kid with the one goal of getting into college. Funny, how the new goal
was trying to stay alive. When his arms wrapped around me, the desire to
reverse time before all this and be with him in high school overwhelmed me. The
feeling lasted seconds, but the impact, the urge, gave a residual ache.

I kept my face next to his neck,
his familiar scent comforting. "Are you okay? I mean, you're not like
screwed up or anything, right? No brain loss…except for the usual lack of
cells?"

He laughed and pulled away to point
to the bandage on his head. "Just a scratch, darlin'. Thanks for the
concern."

That southern accent, the fake one
he used when he tried to help kill me, made me smile now. His presence in my
life then might have been an illusion, but it was a good illusion, and I missed
it.

I smoothed a hand over his
patched-up forehead. "I'm glad you're not dead."

"Likewise." His voice
lost its accent as he guided me to the far corner of a room bigger than my
entire apartment. He acknowledged Wilma, who followed us, and spoke in my ear. "She
hasn't left that chair in days…since her daughters…"

I pulled on his hand, stopping. "You
two stay here. Let me talk to her alone."

"You sure?" Wilma stepped
up, her voice a raspy whisper. "You don't have to do it alone."

"Of course." I let go of
Zander. "Has she eaten?"

"No, she–"

"I am in mourning, not deaf."
Teenesee's honeyed voice, defeated and fragile, had all of us looking at our
feet. Even Wilma.

Treating her like an invalid was
stupid, despite her tattered heart. She still exuded power, even in her grief.
Something I shouldn't have forgotten.

"Um…sorry." I cleared my
throat and stood taller. "Truly, I am so, so sorry."

She sat in a high-backed chair,
staring out the window, not barricaded like Farren's or bolted like the windows
we passed to get to her room. The cries, shots, smells…everything deplorable,
sinful, carried into the room with a breeze thick with the tinge of blood and
death. She made sure her seat was as close as it could be without falling out
the window. Her torture. Self-induced punishment.

Without looking behind her,
Teenesee held out her hand. "Come, Lena."

I stumbled in the rush to her side,
kneeling at her feet while taking her hands in mine. I wanted to reassure her,
tell her we'd beat these bastards back to hell, and steal their energy. Restore
her beautiful dimension.

None of that left my lips.

I held her cold hands and said
nothing. Her ashen face stayed focused on the mayhem outside her window. She
winced every time a scream–a final death scream–floated inside the room. When
she winced, I squeezed her hand tighter, as if the pressure had the power to
take away the grief.

She finally spoke, the pain in her
voice reaching my soul. "They slaughtered them like lambs. Took them away
from me as though they were trash for disposal."

I remained silent, squeezing her
hands so hard my knuckles turned white.

"My beautiful daughters, so
brave, now ash. Their souls taken."

The lump lodged in my throat made
it difficult to breathe, but I couldn't do nothing, say nothing. My grief…specks
of dust compared to hers, and it was about goddamn time I remembered that. Her
daughters, Cara and her child, they needed to be avenged. Others hiding, hoping
not to be next, needed saved. My people were the solution. If the Protectors
Winston found hated me, so the fuck what? They'd get over it and help us fight.
Exemplar's time running the universe was over.

I pulled a chair beside her and sat
resting elbows on knees. "Look at me, Teenesee."

She refused, acting as though I
hadn't spoken.

"Please."

Her topaz eyes closed as she bowed
her head. "I have failed my people."

I leaned closer, squeezing her
hands again. "No, you haven't. Those bastards ambushed you. They ambushed
all of us.
Please, look at me
." When she finally leveled her gaze
with mine, I shook my head. "I won't let them win.
We
won't let
them win. Tarek's going to open the lines, suck those bastards right in to play
with the squid. And…and we have an ancient. Have you heard?"

A flicker, the slightest hint of faith
lightened her eyes. "I have not."

I smiled, trying to transmit my
confidence to her. "Well, we do. She controls the animals in Arcus with
more precision than Tarek. We also have Winston Candell. You know him, right?"
At her nod, I continued, "And I've spoken to Earth's Warden. He's in too. We'll
find that goddamned nest and burn it to the ground. No more energy will leave
here."

"How… How have you managed all
this in such a short time?" Familiar strength seeped into her face,
causing it to shine with that deadly beauty not many could fight against.