Embrace The Night (33 page)

He looked through the space, which was wide enough for his arm and not much more. “Tatiana. Turn the crystal guard back on, or I’ll leave.”

Peering through, he saw the silver front grate and headlight of a humvee and one of the male Strangers, and then Florita. Their eyes met through the crack and he saw the delight and triumph there.

“Very well, then. I will put the protective guard back into place as soon as you come with me, Simon Japp.” She smiled, a wicked, crafty one, and the gate began to open.

“No,” he said, stepping back. “Not until the guard is back in place. You do it, or I’ll stay here and die with the rest of them.” Of course he wouldn’t allow anyone to die, but she didn’t know that. “When I see the glow of the crystals, I’ll come out.”

Florita swore in their common street language, but then, curling her full lips, she nodded. “Agreed.”

Less than five minutes later, the blue glow of the crystal guard shone pale against the dark Hell’s Wall. The rising sun made it difficult to see the light, but it was there.

And when a cheer went up from the crowd, Simon turned and found the gate open wide enough for him to walk through.

His gut tight, heart heavy, he stepped over the threshold—out of Falling Creek, and back into the life he thought he’d escaped.

“I always knew you had a soft heart,” Florita said conversationally. “The way you’d come back and stick your head in the toilet after doing certain things for Leonide.”

Simon raised his eyes and found them caught by her mocking dark ones.
Fuck you.

“Oh, you didn’t think I noticed, did you? Poor Simon. Always coming across as heartless and cold, and then there were those stray kittens. Remember them?”

He looked away. “What do you want?”

They’d driven in the humvee, leaving Falling Creek behind, and headed toward the north side of the settlement. To his surprise, they went up and around, behind Hell’s Wall, for about three miles on a rough road that rose to the backside of the cliff. At the top, he saw that Falling Creek was in the valley below.

On the backside of the cliff rose a large structure built into the wall just above the ocean. As they drew nearer, he saw water running around and through it in narrow channels, and remembered the floating house that had belonged to Preston, the Stranger who’d abducted Jade last month. His home had had a similar design, with water flowing up through the center and down.

This house was more like a gothic castle set into a waterfall, with a lusty river surging over the top of it. Water cascaded down the backside of the cliff, funneled into the center of the structure, then trickled down and around in its channels, splashing from the base to the ocean twenty feet below. Was this how they generated electricity? For Falling Creek and for Florita’s house?

Now, as they sat in an interior room of the castle, Florita smiled knowingly at Simon. “You should have just done like Al Capone and gone to confession, thrown some money in the alms box, and forgotten about it instead of burying your head in a bottle and cranking shit up your nose. It would have been a lot easier for you.”

Simon didn’t deign to reply. Instead, he looked around the room into which she’d brought him. Pale walls, tinged with blue, with a slender ditch of water running along one side. Florita had always liked feng shui…this waterfall shit was right up her alley. Too bad he didn’t find it relaxing in the last. Bright and stark, the air humid and damp, the space was comfortably furnished with cushions and pillows scattered on short, sleek furnishings. He’d taken a seat in a low armchair—the only place he could sit without her next to him. But she’d settled languidly on a chaise adjacent to his seat.

“But what I really want to know,” Florita said, settling a hand on his thigh, making his skin crawl, “is how you came to be here. Looking just the same as you did before. But…yet…different.”

“I don’t know,” he told her simply. “It just happened.”

She searched his face, and he did his best to keep the loathing he felt for her and her other crystal-wearing friends under control. It wouldn’t do any good to antagonize her at this time. Not until he figured out what he was going to do.

Florita seemed to believe him, or at least decided it wasn’t worth the energy to pursue. “Well, I’m not complaining.” She smiled, her eyes dark and lusty. “I’m very glad to have found you again, Simon.”

“Can’t say the feeling is mutual.”

Her fingers tightened on his leg. It didn’t hurt, but, damn, they were strong. “We’ll see how long it takes for you to change your mind.” She settled back in her chair, withdrawing her grip. “So you and your…wife…was it? Your
wife
. You were visiting Falling Creek, and she was asking people a lot of questions about Remington Truth.”

Simon kept his face impassive and his hands still. “I have no idea what she was doing,” he said flatly. “Didn’t really care.”

“Oh. I see.” Florita’s smile became more feline. “So she’s not one of your stray kittens?”

He looked at her, his face blank and a little bored. He shook his head, shrugging faintly as if she were hopeless, knowing that it was a fine line between protesting too much and not at all. Especially with the cunning Florita.

Dragon Boy better not have fucked this up. She’d better be far away and safe.

“You still haven’t told me what you want from me,” Simon said, partly in an effort to draw her attention from Sage, and partly to probe. The more he knew, the better plans he could devise.

“Simon, don’t be foolish. You know exactly what I want from you—what I’ve always wanted. Your loyalty, your…shall we say, way with a weapon, and of course,
you
.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Wherever shall we start?”

“You won’t get any of that from me, Florita. I’m here only because you threatened to kill an entire city on a whim, but you made a big mistake by bringing me here. I can see what will happen to your home, your castle here if you let Hell’s Wall destroy Falling Creek. It will all collapse. So, no, I don’t think you’ll follow through on that even if I leave. Which,” he added smoothly, standing, “I can do at any time.”

She looked up at him, and he saw the flash of unease quickly masked. “Don’t be an idiot. You wouldn’t risk it.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Oh? I might need to argue that, Simon, darling. Wouldn’t the safety of your wife be a good start in that direction.”

He kept himself from tensing, from showing any reaction. “I’m not stupid, Florita.”

“No, indeed,” she purred. He didn’t like the expression on her face, but he didn’t sit. “But your wife…wouldn’t you do anything to keep her safe?”

“Risk my life? You know me. I’ve never done that before—why would I do that now? You’ll have to come up with something better than that.”

“Bring her in,” Florita called.

Simon couldn’t keep himself from going rigid and cold all over.

The door opened and a Stranger came in, dragging,
dragging
Sage across the room by her bound wrists. Her long, lovely hair spilling over her face, just as it had fallen over his hands only hours ago. She was little more than a corpse-like sack of bones, head sagging and flopping with every movement. The man released her and she collapsed to the floor. Unmoving.

Simon saw blood streaking her filthy clothes and grime and dirt on her arms. He couldn’t see if her eyes were open, certainly couldn’t tell if she were breathing. But of course she wasn’t dead. Yet.

With great effort, he looked away, though every muscle in his body screamed to go to her. But he remained passive. Uninterested.

He could become invisible right now, grab Sage, and bust the hell out of here…but something held him back. He didn’t want to expose his ability to Florita unless he absolutely had to. Because once she knew about that, she’d never let him go…and she’d figure out a way to keep him.

“Is that the best you can do?” he said. Supremely bored. His fingers prickled, his vision threatened to glaze red…but he controlled it.

“You needn’t pretend with me, Simon,” said Florita. “I know you’d do anything for her.”

He merely raised a brow. “I think I’ll be leaving now,” he said. “I’ve had enough of your clumsy attempts at blackmail. It didn’t work before. What makes you think it would work now?”

Her smile growing wider and more delighted, she gestured with her long-nailed hand to a screen on the wall. Holding a remote, she turned it on and with a sharp, stark realization, Simon saw a view of the bedroom he’d shared with Sage.

Holy Mother of God…

Simon’s knees felt weak as he watched himself pretending to fuck her, yesterday afternoon when the curtains had been drawn tightly. And then, in the middle of it, when she arched up into him and set him over the edge and it was no longer a pretense.

Now, he remained rigid and unmoving, watching the play of emotions on his face, blown up on the big screen. The desperation and anguish. His need. There for all to see.

“So,” Florita’s voice winnowed through his roaring ears. “Do you still want to leave?”

Simon’s response was to move across the room to Sage. No sense in hiding it any longer, and at least he could see how badly she was hurt. Tell her she was going to be safe, that he’d get her out of here.

He crouched next to her, aware of Florita’s eyes on him, heavy and contemplative, burning with jealousy, and brushed the tangle of hair away from her face. And nearly fell back on his ass.

It wasn’t Sage.

It wasn’t Sage.

Did Florita know this? Was it another trick? Or was she mistaken?

Easy to do so—with all of the Corrigans. This was one of the younger ones, with hair almost the same color as Sage’s…but it didn’t quite have that pinkish tinge to the copper.

God. He should have noticed it right off, but he’d been too intent on showing disinterest. If he’d looked at her, really looked at her, he’d have noticed.

Regardless, she needed help, so he unbound her wrists—tearing the ropes with his bare hands—and rolling her onto her back to see if she was breathing.

Her eyes fluttered and she opened them, drawing in a ragged breath. Fear blasted through her face, but at least she was awake and aware, though her eyes were fogged with confusion and pain. “Who are
you
?” she cried breathlessly. “What do you want? Let me go!”

Pinche.
Now Florita had to know her mistake. Simon pulled to his feet, walking back across the room.

But Florita had already swept over to the terrified young woman. The girl looked up, terror and confusion in her blue eyes, as Florita, in a swirl of angry hair, looked over at Simon. Measuring.

“The wrong woman,” she said. “Then I guess you don’t mind if I do this, then.” And before he realized it, before he could stop her, she had a gleaming blade in her hand and lunged.

Simon leapt, grabbing Florita’s arm and yanking her away so violently that she flew backward, stumbling across the room. But it was too late. Blood everywhere, spattering from her knife, seeping into the pale floor, coloring that bright thick hair, the girl’s neck slit from side to side.

He turned to Florita, his gut churning, his hands raised to grab her and strangle her, but she had the knife raised like the street girl she used to be. Bold and angry, she faced him across the room.

“Touch me and I’ll slice you, but I won’t kill you,” she said. “And I’ll keep bringing those girls in here, one by one, until we find the right one. Because I’ll know when we find the right one, Simon. And then I’ll have you on your knees.”

He stepped back, getting his fury under control. Letting her think she’d won…for the time being. Fucking
coño.
He was going to tear that fucking crystal out of her skin.

She lowered the blade, her eyes dark and wicked. “And until then, you’ll have to follow my orders…or watch each of those stray kittens die.”

June 10, 2011

It’s one year later.

It’s the anniversary of the Change, and several things happened today.

For the first time, I didn’t throw up from morning sickness. I’m four months along now, so it’s about time.

Kevin and Britney announced that she is pregnant. And that Kevin would be marrying a new woman who recently arrived here in Falling Creek. Her name is Margaret.

She seems nice enough.

Despite his decision to marry again…and again…Kevin still seems to care about me. He’s deferent to me and always puts me first. Maybe he does really love me. Maybe he really is just doing this to help recreate the human race. I’d like to believe it. And I sort of do, because…

He showed me a secret today. A tunnel he and Robert made. Even Thad doesn’t know about it. It’s a hidden exit from the settlement, a way out of here besides the big gate. Deep under a pile of junk, through a Lexus. An opening in the enclosing wall, camouflaged by a pile of debris. They piled it there, garbage, but Kevin showed me how there was a tunnel hidden in it. I don’t know why they felt it was necessary…maybe because of the other thing that happened last week.

A visit from those people…those Strangers with the glowing crystals in their skin. There’s a woman, and she looks really familiar…but I don’t know why she would. They’re even creepier than they were back in Envy.

They met with Thad and Kevin and Robert, but Kev won’t tell me anything about their meeting.

All I know is I don’t trust them. And I’m glad I know how to get out of here in case something happens…like another earthquake. There’s a big huge cliff right outside the settlement, and it would destroy us if it fell.

A year after my first wedding. I could never have imagined how this would turn out.

Today was a difficult day.

—from Adventures in Juliedom, the

blog of Julie Davis Beecher Corrigan

Sage’s head hurt even before she opened her eyes, but when she finally managed to force them open, her skull really began to scream. Right in the back.

Ow.

It took her a moment to focus, and then someone moved into her view.