Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy (38 page)

I
release him and he regards me curiously.

“Promise
me, now,” I hiss.

If
there is one person on this planet who has learned to trust me unconditionally,
it’s Lance. His fingers press against his emblem and he hurriedly repeats the
words. I nod and move on to Hope. For her, it’s just a hug. I know she’ll
follow whatever Lance does. Celia comes next. She’s sobbing again as I wrap my
arms around her slight frame. I don’t say anything to her. I can’t. There isn’t
anything I can think of to say that will make watching her brother murder
someone okay. For a few seconds, we simply share each other’s grief. I start to
pull back, but she holds me just a moment longer, whispering, “I was wrong about
the spirit world.”

Then
she pushes me away and turns so she can’t see Milo anymore. I don’t know what
her comment means, but I file it away for later. Only Braden is left. He grabs
me before I can even turn around. “Don’t do this,” he begs me.

“I
have to. I can’t let them kill all these people.” I’m crying as I say it,
though. His own tears mingle with mine as he pulls me against his body. “Help
Lance. Get everyone ready. This isn’t over yet.”

Braden
presses his forehead against mine and quietly asks, “What do you mean?”

“I’ll
see you again. On my birthday. Make sure everyone is ready by then, okay?”

The
anguish in his heart seems to lessen some and I pray he believes that I know
what I’m talking about. It’s my best guess that President Howe is going to hold
me until my birthday when he can kill me publicly and come off the glorious
conqueror rather than the spineless coward he would be for killing me now. Braden
lays his hand against my cheek and kisses me softly.

“I
love you, Libby.”

“I
love you, too.”

Anything
else I wanted to say gets cut off by Milo yanking me out of Braden’s arms. He
starts dragging me up the stairs, my blood-drenched shoes leaving a trail of
scarlet in their wake. I scramble to get my feet back under me. I don’t get the
chance until Braden speaks, stopping Milo cold.

“This
isn’t over, Milo. I don’t care how many talents you have, or how many I don’t,
but I promise you one thing. My blade is going to be the one that ends your
life.”

The
fear that sweeps through Milo is surprising. His response isn’t. “I look
forward to seeing you try.”

Chapter
29

Time Flies

My cell door clangs shut
behind Milo. Lifting my head is beyond me. Whatever drugs they’re giving me are
vicious. The most I can do is force my eyes open. His image wavers in front of
me, too blurry to pick out any details. Not that I really want to see him,
anyway. I try to shy away from him when he moves toward me. All I manage is to
twitch helplessly. The drugs make me nauseous enough, but Milo sliding his
hands tenderly under my head as if he were helping me rather than holding me
captive doubles my urge to vomit. A glass of water being pressed up against my
lips clears away that desire immediately. I drink thirstily and wait for the
haze to disappear.

Like
every other time Milo has come to see me, the water is laced with something to
counter the drugs I was already on. Coherent thoughts return to me. Strength
seeps back into my body. I still feel weak as I push myself up to a sitting
position, but it feels good to be able to move again. I can’t remember how many
times we’ve been through this same routine. Has it been weeks or months?

“Here’s
your dinner,” Milo says, holding a plate out to me.

I
tried refusing at first, but all that got me was painful hunger cramps and more
abuse. Not from Milo. Physically, Milo can hit me all he wants, but he’ll feel
the pain of his actions doubled back on him. A few times, he’s been so angry I
thought he might risk it. Logic, or maybe pride, won out. He’s yet to
physically assault me, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t felt pain since my
capture. Each time I didn’t eat he called in some Neanderthal named Thomas and
let him kick me around until he got tired. I’m sure that hurt Milo plenty,
though not as much as beating me himself would, but he suffered through it like
a trooper.

Then
they would both leave after drugging me again. I got tired of that real quick.
I still held out for a week before finally taking a bite of food just so Milo
wouldn’t think I was that easy to break, and also so I could see him jerk in
pain every time Thomas hit me, too. I could have held on for longer, but Milo’s
pain reminded me that he wasn’t the only one feeling my injuries. Lance was
taking every beating along with me, likely being tortured by his promise not to
come rescue me. I quit resisting after that.

I’m
sure some POWs get to the point where they’d rather die than have to endure
captivity another minute. I have too many reasons not to die to let myself go
that direction. I promised Braden I would see him again. Milo still believes I
broke my promise to him about destroying the Guardians. That’s fine. He can
think whatever he wants. I refuse to make myself into a liar when it comes to
my promise to Braden. I take the plate of food from Milo and pick up a piece of
the chicken with my fingers. He doesn’t trust me enough to let me use a fork.

Like
I need a fork to kill him.

What
I really need is to figure out how to counteract the drugs on my own. I studied
healing with Milo’s dad quite a bit. I was getting pretty good at healing minor
injuries, but we hadn’t quite made it to the reversing the effects of toxins
and poisons lessons before Milo flipped on me. I’ve been trying to isolate it
every time Milo drugs me, but the stuff works so freaking fast that I never
have enough time to get it right. I have to find a way to fix that.

“How’s
your dinner?” Milo asks.

I
lick the grease off my fingers and don’t answer.

“Not
in a talkative mood? Fine.” Milo reaches for a second glass of water, the one
that will knock me out as soon as it hits my stomach. A little flutter of panic
hits me. I’m not ready to sink back into my dreamless hell. I can’t let him see
that, though.

I
lick one more finger, and say, “Can’t I at least finish eating before you start
badgering me?”

Gesturing
as if he has all the time in the world, Milo leans back against the cell wall.
He lets me eat without saying another word. His blasé attitude about this whole
experience irks me more than anything else. I want to slap the calm expression
off his face. Instead, I force myself to mirror his unconcern as I pop green
peas into my mouth and crunch my way through a thick slice of garlic toast.
Whoever does the cooking around here is quite talented. Way better than
anything I can come up with. The food has been the only perk of being locked
up.

The
plate goes back to Milo when I’ve gotten every little scrap possible. He smirks
at my thoroughness, knowing I do it purely to stretch out the talk-free time.
The Kevlar shackle around my wrist is chained to the wall. It’s too strong to
break through, but it is long enough to let me walk around a little. Standing
up shows weakness. It would be better if I could bear staying curled up on my
bed like a plastic Barbie, not bothered by cramped muscles. That’s a little too
much to ask of me, though. I stand up and pace back and forth well out of reach
of Milo.

Milo
usually starts off our conversations with questions about what I may not have
told him about my plan for the Guardians. I guess I can’t blame him for thinking
I was hiding things from him, but really, my plans for taking out the Guardians
were pretty slim. I still hadn’t figured out what to do about the Cipher
Zombies or how to give Braden back his talents. Without those two puzzles being
completed, it was hard to plan anything concrete. Tired of repeating myself on
that front, I figure I might as well take the lead this time.

“I
was wrong,” I say, “about what the prophecy meant.”

Startled,
Milo watches me warily for a moment before biting. “What part?”

“The
part that said one of my own would be my downfall.” I turn and face him. “I
thought Idris meant the Cipher Zombies the Guardians are making, but I was
wrong. Idris was talking about you, Milo.”

His
face screws up angrily. “That’s not true. I did everything I could to help you,
Libby. You’re the one who ruined your chances of wiping out the Guardians.”

“Go
ahead and keep telling yourself that,” I say. “The prophecy never mentions me
doing anything to jeopardize my chances, just one of my own. You’d think that
since the prophecy came from a Seeker, someone who wanted me to fail more than
anything, wouldn’t he slip it in if I was going to blow my own destiny before I
even tried to start a war?”

Milo
clenches his fist together, but doesn’t respond to my taunting.

“Think
about it, Milo. Everything you say I did to mess things up also had some pretty
big benefits, too. Braden was the only reason we got the Ciphers out in the
first place. They’d still be locked in the spirit world without him. Not just
because of him giving us the schematics for the compounds, but because his
power was the only thing that made it possible for me to perform an Inquest on
so many people at once. You think trusting Mr. Walters was a mistake, too, but
he told me I needed more of the prophecy and warned us about the Cipher
zombies. Do I need to go on? The only decisions I’ve made that have turned out
badly have been the ones I listened to you on.”

“Name
one,” he says, his anger punching through his shield and filling the little room.

“Only
one? I can do better than that. I’ll double it, though I’m sure I can come up
with even more if I really try,” I say. Leaning against the wall, I stare down
at him. “It was your opinion that Braden shouldn’t go with us on the raid to
grab Drake. If I had listened to you, I would be dead right now, because Braden
was the only one who wasn’t affected by the talent interference. He saved all
of our lives. Not to mention you making Celia stay behind. Did you know she
repaired a broken bone and a nicked femoral artery when one of the Ciphers
broke their leg before you took me? She saved him from bleeding out in a matter
of seconds. She could have saved Hammond. And last, but certainly not least,
you kept me from going after Braden when he was taken by the Guardians. If you
hadn’t stopped me, I could have gotten him back before Drake ever twisted
Braden’s Oath. Braden never would have tried to kill me, and he’d still have
his talents and be ready to help me take these monsters down.”

In
all reality, Lance was just as big of a factor in keeping me from going after
Braden, but as worked up as Milo is right now, he doesn’t bother to think that
hard about it. “That’s a bunch of crap, Libby, but even if it wasn’t, you’re
still in the same position. You can’t win this fight.”

“You
don’t know that.”

He
throws his hands up at me. “You just admitted that you couldn’t even get all
the Ciphers out of the spirit world without Braden! How are you going to defeat
a whole army of Guardians without him? You can’t have it both ways, Libby.
Either you need Braden to win or you don’t.”

“Fine,”
I snap, “I need him.”

“Then
you’re going to lose.”

I
walk back to my bed and sit down. For several long minutes, I don’t say
anything. When I do speak, I don’t bother looking up at him. “You realize
you’re the only one who believes that, right? The Guardians wouldn’t be going
to all this trouble to hold me if they weren’t convinced I could beat them.”

“You
have no idea what the Guardians think,” Milo says darkly.

I
look up, facing his blazing anger and ask, “Do you?”

“I’ve
had enough for today,” he says. He stands up and picks the drugged water off
the tray.

“How
long have I been here?” I ask as he approaches me.

“Six
weeks.”

His
answer stuns me. “I didn’t realize it had been so long.”

“Time
flies when you sleep twenty-three hours a day,” Milo grumbles.

“I
was right, then, wasn’t I? President Howe is holding me until my birthday. He’s
planning some big spectacular execution for me as soon as my talents are unlocked,
right?”

For
the first time in as many of these chats as I can actually recall, regret lines
Milo’s features. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Libby. Give up. Convince Howe
you aren’t a threat and he’ll let you live.”

“Why
would he do that?” I ask.

“Because
he knows the people are turning on him. Granting you mercy would placate them
and keep him in power a little longer. At least until I can take it from him. I
can change things. Just promise Howe you won’t stand in his way and he’ll let
you live,” Milo says.

“If
you believe that, you really are delusional. Nothing I could ever say or do
will keep Howe from killing me.”

Milo
shakes his head, maybe because he thinks I’m foolish for not believing him,
maybe because he knows how wrong he is. Either way, he settles the glass
against my lips and tips it up. I let just a few drops slip into my mouth
before pulling back. Milo looks surprised and hesitates for a second. All I
need is a few more. I tap the smallest amount of Naturalism I can that will
still do the job I need it to do, working furiously as I try to distract Milo.