Night Resurrected (50 page)

its power . . . how my grandfather

obtained it . . . everything.”

His lips shifted into a humorless

smile. “And then what?”

“I’ll make sure you’re released.

When I surrender myself to the

Strangers.”

His ice-blue eyes widened. “You’re

going to go to them?”

“Yes. And you’re going to take me.

You’re a bounty hunter, right? You track

down bounties, right? I’m pretty sure I’m

the biggest damn bounty you’ve ever had

the fortune of getting.”

“You do know what they’ll do when

they have you?” he said. Some of the

chill eased from his eyes and he looked

at her searchingly.

“I have my ideas. None of them are

pretty.” She swallowed and tried to

force the thoughts away. “They want the

crystal, and I know where it is. They

won’t actually kill me until they find out

what they want to know . . . and I’m

hoping by then I’ll either have escaped

or I’ll be dead . . . my own way.

Painlessly.” Remy forced her lips into a

shaky smile.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said. He

shook his head, still looking at her.

“You’re a hell of a woman, Remy. It’s

too damn bad I don’t do relationships.”

His smile went a little crooked. “But

you’d sure as hell be the one if I did.”

“How kind of you to let me down

easy, Ian.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way

—time’s running out. The Mother

crystal. Tell me everything.”

“I will tell you what I know . . . but

understand there’s no way of verifying it

all. The Mother crystal and what

happened with Remington Truth has

been the stuff of whispers and hearsay

for fifty years. I don’t think anyone

knows for certain what happened except

your grandfather, Preston, and Fielding

. . . and they’re all dead now, aren’t

they?”

“Okay, fine—I got the caveats. Tell

me what you’ve heard.”

“The Mother crystal. A piece of the

ultimate

power

source

for

the

Atlanteans, and the source of the

immortality that lives in the Strangers’

crystals. It was a gift from the Atlanteans

to the Cult of Atlantis—you know what

that is?” When she nodded, he continued,

“They gave it to the leaders of the Cult

of Atlantis to enable them to cause the

Change—and in gratitude for doing so.

All the Atlantean crystals—at least the

life-giving ones—are connected. So

when one comes in proximity with

another, depending how strong its power

is, they can communicate or transfer

energy between them. That’s how they

caused the Change. They chose places

throughout the world to align powerful

crystals along natural energy centers,

deep in the earth or the ocean. The way I

understand it, when the Cult of Atlantis

used the Mother crystal’s power—in

conjunction with some other energy

generated beneath the sea by the

Atlanteans—all of those areas sort of

erupted or exploded in a catastrophic

manner.”

“Causing earthquakes, tsunamis, and

the entire earth to shift on its axes?”

Remy had heard enough from Lou and

Theo Waxnicki about their theories—

which were surprisingly corroborated

by Ian’s information. They’d been

correct.

“Yes. It was like a domino effect that

affected weather and climate as well as

civilization.”

“And you’ve allied yourself with

these people,” Remy said, her voice

unsteady. “My God. No wonder you’re

. . . the way you are.”

His face went rigid. “You have no

idea, darling.”

She drew in a deep breath and

continued. “Something happened a few

weeks ago to make my crystal—the

Mother crystal—start to burn.”

“It

must

have

been

activated

somehow, by some other powerful

energy stone. Until then it was dormant

and that was why they’ve been looking

for it for fifty years. Once it came back

to life, or whatever you want to call it, it

reignited its energy and burned. And it

can be tracked and located.”

“Why do the Strangers want it?”

Remy knew what Lacey had told her and

what Ana had surmised . . . but she

wanted to know if Ian had the same

understanding.

“It’s powerful. And it’s dangerous to

them at the same time,” Ian said. “You

never want your enemy to control

something that can destroy you.” His

eyes glittered with loathing. “That’s why

I need to have it, Remy. Let me have it,

come away with me, and I promise

you’ll never be in danger again.”

“You want it so you can destroy the

Strangers?”

He bared his teeth. “Oh no . . . it’s

not that simple. I want it so they know I

have it. I want it because
they
want it. I

want it for revenge.”

“Lacey died when she came in

contact with it.”

“So that part
is
true,” he said to

himself. “Which means they have to have

a mortal . . .” His dark smile became

harsher. “Perfect.”

“But Marley . . . she didn’t die. At

least not yet. Her crystal is still blue, but

it’s cracked. And it doesn’t glow.

Lacey’s turned solid gray and she died

within minutes.”

His

eyes

narrowed.

“That’s

interesting. Could be proximity. Could

be the type of crystal—Lacey’s is

obviously newer, since Marley has had

hers for fifty years and Lacey only a year

or two. Might just take longer for some

. . .”

“But if the crystal is so dangerous,

why do they want to have it? Why do the

Strangers want it if it will kill them?”

“Because if someone else has it, they

can annihilate all of them at once—you

said it yourself. All they have to do is

smash

it,

and
boom
! The energy

evaporates from their crystals and

they’re all dead. Surely you know your

history, Remy. The United States had a

nuclear bomb and so the—who was it?

—the Soviet . . . Union? . . . had to have

one too. It was a stalemate.”

She was shaking her head. “But if the

crystal will kill them, how will they do

anything with it? I mean if they obtained

it, whoever got near it would die.”

“That,” he said, his eyes turning cold,

“is what they have the zombies for.

Their orange eyes? They’re from

minuscule crystals—grit from the same

node the Mother came from. The

zombies are immune to the Mother

crystal—they’re

actually

probably

attached to it. Somehow. Unlike the

Strangers who wear the blue crystals.”

“Orange and blue, fire and water,”

Remy

murmured.

“Opposites.

Destructive opposites. Makes sense.”

“Right. That’s how the zombies found

you once the crystal started burning.

They were coming a lot faster and

crazier in the last few weeks, weren’t

they? So they’d use the zombies to

protect and guard the Mother crystal

once they get it. That was how I found

you this last time. I followed the

zombies.” There was no remorse in his

eyes.

Remy nodded. It was as she’d

suspected. “But again, how would they

get it if they can’t go near it? The

zombies are stone dumb. They’d need

. . . Oh.” She looked at Ian, who had the

balls to meet her gaze steadily. “Bounty

hunters. Mortal bounty hunters.”

“And there you have it,” he replied.

Chapter 23

S
triding along the hall toward the main

area of New York–New York, Wyatt

looked neither right nor left.

“Yo, Wyatt.”

Curling his fingers into a tight fist, he

stopped at the sound of Simon’s voice,

but didn’t turn. He didn’t want to talk to

anyone right now.

He needed to be alone . . . or with

someone who wasn’t Simon.

“What’s up?” he said, making little

effort to hide his reluctance as Simon

approached.

“You okay?” his friend asked—

which was clearly not what he’d meant

to say.

“What’s up?” he repeated.

Simon got the message and moved

on. “After you left . . . Remy asked me to

take her to see Ian Marck. I thought you

should know . . . she’s leaving with

him.”

Wyatt felt his face drain of color.

“What?”

“She wanted to speak to him alone,

but unbeknownst to them I . . . uh . . .

stuck around. I heard the entire

conversation—”

“What do you mean, she’s ‘leaving

with him’?”

“The gist of the conversation is she

offered to be his bounty. He’s taking her

to the Strangers to collect. I heard

enough to know that she was going to

make another excuse and come back to

get him in an hour and they were going to

leave. It took me a while to find you . . .

Where were you?”

Wyatt squeezed his eyes closed and

tried desperately to make sense of

everything. He actually felt light-headed.

“I was down in the damned computer

lab.” Then he looked at Simon. “What

do you mean, ‘another excuse’?”

They were already striding along,

Wyatt following Simon’s lead to where,

he presumed, Remy currently was.

“That so-called fire in the kitchen? I

think it was a setup. To give her the

chance to talk to Ian.”

Without you knowing.

Simon didn’t even have to say it.

Wyatt stopped. “To hell with it. If

she wants to sneak away with Marck,

who am I to stop her? God knows I’ve

tried—to hell with it all. Let her fucking

go.”

He spun away, blinded by anger, and

left Simon standing there watching. The

pub was close by and Wyatt headed

directly there, right into the bar he and

his friends had gone into their very first

night in Envy . . . just about a year ago.

It was fitting. This would be his last

night in Envy.

He decided then and there he was

going to go back to Glenway with David

and Cat. There was no reason to stick

around here, especially once Remington

Truth

surrendered

herself

to

the

Strangers.

He could be with his family—what

was left of it. The family the Strangers

had nearly destroyed.

Wyatt growled out an order for a

whiskey, vaguely noticing that he wasn’t

alone in seeking solace with drink.

There were enough people in the pub he

assumed were planning to drink their

way into oblivion before the attack came

. . . or maybe they’d been told there

wouldn’t be an attack any longer

because Remington Truth had appeared

and were celebrating.

When the glass was set in front of

him, he stared down into the liquid gold.

The smell rose to his nostrils, and he

lifted the glass, tossing the entire shot

down in one gulp. Fury, irrational and

hot, blazed through him, coloring his

vision.

He hadn’t been able to do it.

When it came down to it, he hadn’t

been able to do it. At the last minute he

brought the sledgehammer down on the

table, purposely missing the crystal. Left

a big fucking dent in the metal surface

and the crystal untouched.

Then he’d picked up the damned

stone and whipped it across the room. It

slammed into the drywall like a bullet,

embedded itself like a crystal in the

flesh of a Stranger. He stared at it for a

long moment, looking at its feeble

orange glow, tempted . . . tempted once

more to smash it and annihilate the

people who’d taken it upon themselves

to be God . . . to destroy and rebuild the

earth. To decide who lived and died. To

sell out immortality.

His vision swam and he’d dashed at

his eyes with trembling fingers.