Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (34 page)

“Don’t do me any favors.”

“Don’t you at least want to hear the terms?”

This should be good. “Knock yourself out.”

“Stay in Haverleau and I’ll limit my focus to the Lyondale area. Where you are.” He turned. “If you don’t stay, I will continue my attacks on the other communities. Just as I did with Merbais and Fontesceau.”

I thought of Aubrey and Chloe. Of the countless others the
sondaleur
would have to face each time he attacked.

“Why Haverleau?”

“Because the circle remains incomplete. The end cannot begin until the first is complete. We should end this where it began.” He gestured at our surroundings. “Have you forgotten what all of this is about?”

The truth.

“What do you expect me to find?”

“The end to our story, of course.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Why would you not?”

“Killing everyone I know might have something to do with it.”

“It’s not what I’ve taken from you.” He frowned slightly. “It’s what I’ve given you. You have everything you need to find your answers, Kendra.”

His arrogance was astounding. “And when I find out the truth…what then?”

“Then you’ll invite me into Haverleau. When light is at its strongest, you shall decide the final sequence of events.”

If it weren’t for how seriously he said it, I would’ve laughed out loud.

“I’m bringing you into Haverleau,” I repeated. “Right.”

“What do you say, Kendra? Do you accept the terms of our little ceasefire?”

“Do I have a choice in the matter?”

He slid his arm around my waist, raised the other and locked a hand around my wrists. Every inch of his fake body intimately pressed against mine. He lowered his face until his mouth was inches away.

I struggled but his steely grip locked me in place.
 

The most disturbing thing of all was the lack of breath.

In the final movements before her chest stilled forever, Rhian’s inhales and exhales were proof of her connection to her body, the world.
 

The Shadow may have more power than anything on this planet.
 

But he was nothing more than a carcass, an empty sack of flesh and bones. Nothing connected him to this world. To life.

“Choice is an illusion,
sondaleur
, the greatest illusion mortals have ever constructed.”

I kept my gaze level. “Let me go.”

“Will you return to Haverleau?”

“Yes. Now release me.”

He shook his head and stepped back. “Unfortunately, that is not how the game is played. I cannot do all the work for you,
sondaleur
. But you are a survivor. I’m sure you’ll find your way out.”
 

I lunged, the chains rattling above me.
 

He chuckled. “When you escape from GrandView, as I have no doubt you will, you’ll believe it’s because of you. That you protected your friends by taking charge of your own freedom.”
 

He took another step back. “But I want you to remember me then, Kendra. You are leaving because I allowed you to. Remember what you learned within these walls and realize what you’ve known all along.”

“That you’re a sick asshole?”

He smiled. “That you and I are two sides of the same coin. Black and white, light and dark. The truth you seek is in who you are.”

Bastien melted into the darkness and silence crept in.

“You don’t know me,” I whispered.

But as the dark deepened, three words emerged, sinuously winding up my spine, coiling and twisting in my mind.
 

They echoed in the empty spaces, gaining power with each reverberation until I could no longer tell the difference between the encroaching darkness and the question I had no answer to.

Who are you?
 

TWENTY-ONE

Three cycles.

No visits. No nix blood.

No Ian.

Hunger and thirst had burned through my body leaving behind a fog as if I hadn’t slept in weeks.

The face of survival shifted again and it now became about conserving what energy I had left.
 

Time slowed.

Stillness conquers all.

Without nix blood, my magic slowly returned, a faint energy flickering in my core.

But its power was dimmed and my body was too wasted to use it.

Darkness wavered, thinned.

It was fading. Wasn’t it?

Yes. Light was coming.

A small patch of white feathered the dark, diluting the deep cold until it faded beneath its warmth.

Slowly, it widened until its edges touched the water pooled on the ground.

Drip.

Listen, Kendra.

It skittered across the surface, catching on dips and curves.

Finally, the water stilled. The surface smoothed to glass, waiting to accept the next drop from above.

I saw my hands reflected in the quiet surface. Dirty fingers gripped a chain slung across an enormous hook.

Something was different.
 

A detail.

My mind struggled to see through the haze.

The clasp was open.

It was usually locked tight, sealing the chain in the hook.

I remembered Bastien leaning in, his hand reaching above me, arm aligned with mine.

He’d unlocked it.

Something small and hard sparked in my chest, a match flaring to life.

I gathered up the last shreds of energy, the slim reserve honed from years of conditioning.

Her voice echoed again.

Move.

Everything hurt so much.

Survive, Kendra.

The hook was deep. I grasped the chain and swayed back and forth, balancing on the tips of my toes. With each swing, I edged the chain forward.

I tracked my progress in the water.
 

I needed enough momentum to lift the chain two inches so I could get it over the hook.

Those two inches grew larger, wider, until it became the farthest distance I’d ever encountered in my life.

I watched my reflection and increased momentum, body focusing on the moment of release.

Garreth and Ewan’s voices joined hers, the knowledge I’d acquired in training blending with everything she’d taught me over the years.

Balance in release, balance in landing.

Listen.

The water on the pipe beaded, ready to drop.

I kicked and pushed up. The chain hit the tip of the clasp, but didn’t have enough height to get over.

The chain rattled and sank back on to the hook.

Drip
.

A new ripple distorted the reflection.

I waited until the water settled again, frustration mounting with each second.
 

I tried again. And again.

Each time the chain sank bank into the curve. I wasn’t getting high enough.

The ground blurred, exhaustion pulling my mind farther away.

The sun continued its journey. Light passed through the water and my reflection submerged into darkness.

I had to wait for another cycle.
 

My body continued to weaken.

I visualized the kick that would finally set me free. It kept me here, grounding my mind so it didn’t drift away in the fog.

Finally, the light returned.

It inched its way across the dark, opening, expanding, until it stretched across the water.
 

Drip
.

A faint ripple shimmered across the surface.

Exhaustion flowed through my body. Everything wanted to shut down.
 

The ripples quieted.
 

Stillness brought reflection.

I had to get home.

To Haverleau.

To Tristan.

I kicked with every ounce of strength I had left.
 

The chain fell loose.

Unprepared, I tumbled forward. My knee slammed hard against the ground, aggravating an old injury. Pain ricocheted through me.

I lay there, my face pressed against cool concrete, and breathed.
 

Tristan’s voice floated around me.
 

I wanted to get to him. I needed to get to him.
 

But my body no longer listened.

So much pain.

Another drop fell.

It was right there. But I was too exhausted to reach for it.

So, so tired.

Water stilled and this time, it holds her.

Severe expression, sharp eyes, and a mouth tight with disapproval reflected back at me.

Get up, Kendra.

Get up. Move.

The voice of my childhood wavered in the air like a mirage, both real and not.

I can’t.

Did I say those words aloud?

She spoke again. Stronger, more demanding.

Move, Kendra!

My leg twitched.

I pulled myself forward an inch at a time. Legs and back did most the work, while arms hung uselessly by my side.
 

Slowly, I reached the shallow pool.

Someone filthy and starved looked back at me.
 

Bastien had made sure there were no external wounds.
 

But what was in my eyes was something I no longer recognized.

I couldn’t move my arms so I bent my head and lapped the water like an animal.

The water drenched dry, cracked lips. It swirled in my mouth, gritty and metallic.

My cells soaked it in, my body greedily drawing in an elemental’s most necessary sustenance.

Pain seared up my arms as feeling returned. I didn’t care.

More
.

I cupped my hands and took in as much as I could. With each sip, energy flowed back into my veins and the haze dissipated.

When my swollen stomach could take in no more, I stood and stumbled toward the stairs on shaky legs. Hands blindly reached into the darkness and found the railing.

Up two flights.
 

Bastien had left the door unlocked.

Metal clanked when I opened it. A flashlight hung off a leather strap looped around the outer handle.

The large yellow beam sliced a path forward as I weaved down the corridor. Shadows loomed along the walls, light and dark pouncing after each other.

Ahead, familiar swinging doors came into view. A steady, rhythmic patter strummed just beyond it.
 

I entered the lobby. Milky light and the sharp tang of rain washed over me.
 

Water sluiced across the large glass windows and dripped down the eaves and awning of the hotel’s front entrance.

The rain’s crispness helped clear my mind.

Where would he take Julian and Cam?

This way, Kendra.

Her voice whispered, reverberating through the empty lobby, blending with the rhythm of the rain.

This way.

It bounced around the hotel, a living, breathing memory embedded within peeling wallpapers, rotting floors, and dusty furniture.

A voice I could never completely forget.

Following its echoes, I crossed the lobby to a back entrance leading out to the pool deck.
 

Moss and weeds had overtaken the empty kidney-shaped swimming pool.

The employee staff room, once a pool house, sat along the east corner of the deck. Memory stirred, faintly recalling the uniformed girls and boys who once hung around it in a cloud of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume.

Kendra.

For a moment, I thought I saw her again, standing beside the house, a tendril of curly hair escaping her tight braid.
 

I blinked.

She was gone.

Like every entrance and exit in this hotel, the pool house door easily opened.

“Julian.” I rushed over. “Cam.”

They were handcuffed to a radiator along the east wall, their wrists bloodied.

“‘Bout time.” Cam said, his voice reedy.

Julian twisted his mouth up in acknowledgment, his lips cracked, face drawn.

“Hang on.”

I dug through the kitchen and discovered everything in the cabinet beneath the sink.

A case of bottled water. My dagger and three
kouperets
, as well as our backpacks and belongings, were neatly lined beside handcuff keys.

Another gift from Bastien.

I removed their cuffs and handed over water.
 

“Drink.”

Julian’s fingers trembled around the bottle. Water trickled out of his mouth, his throat working as he took in large gulps.
 

Cam had already finished up one bottle and was making his way through a second.

Relief surged as energy and awareness brightened their eyes. They were okay.

I pulled open the dusty curtains and the smell of mildew drifted through the air.

Rivulets streaked across the film of dust on the windows. The rain was beginning to ease and a hint of azure sky peeked out from behind gray storm clouds.
 

We needed to go home. But we couldn’t. Not yet.

I turned. “The mission isn’t done.”

Cam took a long swig of water and wiped his mouth. “Oliver.”

“Ian,” Julian added grimly.

I nodded.
 

We came for a reason. We couldn’t leave until we’d completed it.

Once they got their bearings, we headed back into the hotel lobby.
 

“Together?” Julian murmured.

I nodded. “Every room.”

We started on the first floor, settling into our own tempo.

As expected, Bastien had left all the doors unlocked.

The only reason you leave is because I allowed you to.

I opened the door and took the lead, Cam and Julian covering our sides and back.

We swept room, closet, and bathroom, then moved on to the next.

But the rooms held none of the answers we sought.

Only the faint scent of damp rot and the occasional sign someone had once passed through. A crumpled snack bag in the trash. A grey towel still on the bathroom floor.

No one else haunted the halls of this hotel. Oliver wasn’t here.

We arrived on the third floor.