Intermix Nation (38 page)

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Authors: M.P. Attardo

Tags: #romance, #young adult, #dystopia, #future, #rebellion, #future adventure, #new adult, #insurgent, #dystopia fiction

BOOK: Intermix Nation
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“So you’re telling me to just float where
the waves take me?” she asks. “That my life will never be my
own?”

“I’m telling you,” the monkey whispers, “to
become the moon.”

“What?”

“Decide how the tide pulls,” he says.
“Choose your own fate. Do not let me, or anyone else, dictate your
path. Forge it yourself.”

Nazirah nods, contemplating his words. “Thank
you,” she says quietly.

“I have a small request before you leave,”
the monkey says.

“Anything.”

“The road of your life has been rough,
filled with grit and despair. And I do not see the course
smoothing. I wish to give you a protection mark, offering you
courage and strength in your most desperate hours.”

Nazirah is stunned. “I would be honored,”
she says. The monkey delves into his robes. He retrieves a small
bottle of ink and a thin needle, which Nazirah recognizes from
Adamek’s memory. Grasping Nazirah’s left arm, he glances curiously
at her fake crescent moon. Nazirah laughs bitterly. “It’s part of
my disguise, along with the blonde hair and everything.”

The monkey winks. “What blonde hair?”

Confused, Nazirah fingers her locks. She
pulls a tendril forward and finds it has returned to its normal
copper color. Nazirah looks at her hands, freshly tan. “Did you do
this?” she asks, amazed.

The monkey rubs Nazirah’s arm with his
sleeve, gently erasing the black paint, the final remnants of Zima
on her skin. “It does not suit you, Nazirah, to hide who you are.
You are rare, even though you constantly resist that which makes
you so special. Embrace it.”

The monkey closes his eyes and starts
humming, blindly tattooing her left wrist. His movements are
flawless and smooth. Nazirah watches him ink four numbers, followed
by a strange symbol. Just like Adamek’s tattoo, she realizes. The
monkey bows his head, returning the items to his pocket. Nazirah
reads the numbers aloud.

“Zero-five-one-four.”

May 14
th
, her mother’s
birthday. Nazirah understands now why the numbers on Adamek’s own
wrist are so important to him.

“A protection mark,” the monkey says,
“Courage and strength given by your kin. The best kind of
protection there is.”

“But how did you know the date?”

“You knew the date,” he answers. “That is
what matters.”

“Yesterday,” Nazirah says, “you saw that his
Medi tattoo had changed. You said it suited him.” The monkey nods.
“Why did it change?”

“Nazirah Nation,” the monkey replies,
handing Nazirah her coat, “do not ask a question if you already
know the answer.”

“He doesn’t consider himself Medi anymore,”
she says immediately, realizing she has known it all along.

“The mind rejects and the body responds,”
the monkey confirms, reaching into his robes again, pulling out a
small dagger. The monkey throws it high into the air and catches
it, lightning fast. He presents it to her. “A gift.”

“It’s incredible,” Nazirah breathes, tracing
the intricate carvings. She unsheathes the dagger and stares at the
gleaming metal before carefully pocketing it.

“Something to remember us by,” he says,
“Though I hope you never have a need to use it.”

Nazirah gives the monkey a short, awkward
bow. He chuckles, embracing her.

“Will I ever see you again?” she asks
him.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On the way the tide goes.”

Nazirah bites her lip. “Would you ever
consider training me?”

“It would be both the greatest honor and
shame of my life to teach someone so pure the ways of the
brotherhood,” the monkey answers sorrowfully. “I am afraid I have
no answer for you.” Nazirah nods. “But I will give you this final
token of advice, my daughter. The first, most important, rule is to
always know your enemy.”

Nazirah smiles because Adamek has already
taught her that lesson. “I think I’ve got that one figured
out.”

“Just remember,” the monkey says, waving
goodbye. “In life, our only enemies are ourselves.”

#

When Nazirah exits the monastery, the sun is
already setting. Darkness stains the sky, spilt ink soaking paper.
Nazirah throws her hood up, crosses the bridge. Safely on the other
side, she sprints back to the manor. She sneaks through the
servants’ entrance, quickly retreating to her room. Nazirah shuts
the door and leans against it, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. It
has barely escaped her lips when she peers into the darkness,
immediately freezing. “Morgen,” she greets, trying to sound casual
as she pulls off her coat.

“Nation.”

Adamek lies on Nazirah’s bed, not looking
her way. He tosses a smooth black stone into the air, catching it
with one hand. Nazirah glances nervously at the open mason jar
beside him, at the pictures spread out. He’s clearly been here for
a while.

Nazirah clears her throat. “How was the
meeting?”

“Good,” he says. “We finished early.”

“Great.”

“I told Slome I would check on you, but you
weren’t here.” Adamek looks at her then, expression unreadable. He
rises from the bed, standing before Nazirah in two short paces.

“I went for a walk.”

“Where?”

“Just out,” she says. “I couldn’t stay
trapped in here anymore. No one saw me.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

“And how do you explain looking like
yourself again?”

Nazirah touches her face, having forgotten.
“It wore off, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I guess!”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“You should leave.”

Adamek ignores Nazirah, grabbing her wrist.
There’s an unstable, manic look in his eye. Nazirah doesn’t even
try to pull away. She knows exactly what he’s looking for. Adamek
stares at the protection mark for only a second. Then he meets her
waiting gaze. His voice is so devastatingly calm that Nazirah
almost wishes he would yell instead.

“Why?”

She struggles to break free of his grip.
“Why what?”

“Why did you go see him?”

“I was curious,” she says, wincing.

Adamek spins Nazirah so her back is flush
against his chest. His free hand snakes around her waist, holding
her firmly. “Curious?”

“You’re hurting me!”

Adamek releases her entirely, playing with
her hair. Running his hand up her neck, Adamek cups Nazirah’s
throat, compressing her airway just a little. “Do you trust me,
Nation?” he whispers in her ear.

“Yes.”

Nazirah is surprised by how quickly she
answers. But she doesn’t doubt herself, not for a moment. Adamek
lets go of her windpipe. He hisses, “Then you are an idiot,
Nazirah.”

Her name on his lips is glorious sacrilege,
a godsend.

“I’m not,” she says.

“What am I?”

“I don’t –”

“What am I?” he repeats, more harshly this
time.

“A man?”

Adamek laughs into her ear, grazing his
fingers down her spine. “True,” he says. “But try again.”

“Medi?” she gets out. She knows that’s not
right … not anymore.

“Nope.”

Nazirah racks her brain. She remembers the
first day she saw Adamek at headquarters, in Nikolaus’s office.
Nazirah called him a slew of foul names then. One in particular had
stuck.

And don’t you forget it.

Nazirah hasn’t.

“Murderer.”

She whispers it like a confession. Adamek
spins her around, looking her dead in the eye. “And that’s all I’ll
ever be,” he says coldly. “Remember that.” He turns away from her,
walking towards the door.

“Adamek!” she cries. He stops. Nazirah
doesn’t know where the courage comes from, but something has
changed. Her armor has cracked. “There can be a better way to
live,” she says, voice clear as a bell. “We can be better.”

Adamek pivots slowly. Disbelief shrouds his
face, quickly replaced by shock, then fury. Whatever he was
expecting, it was not that. He balls his fists, taking a menacing
step forward. “What did you say?” His voice is hoarse and riddled
with pain. He steps again, closing the gap between them. He shoves
Nazirah hard, forcing her backwards.

“You heard me!”

Adamek pushes Nazirah again, slamming her
against the wall. He pounds his fists beside her head. Nazirah
flinches, but refuses to back down. “How?” he hisses.

“The Iluxor,” she says evenly. “Before
campaign.”

He clenches his jaw, neck veins throbbing,
hands splayed against stone. “And did Nazirah Nation satisfy her
undying curiosity?” he snarls. “Is that what you were hoping to
find, some insight into my fucked up, abusive life?” He grabs her
chin roughly, dragging her up the wall. She kicks her legs
uselessly, running on air. “Did you enjoy watching the only good
thing in my worthless existence die, at the hand of my own father?
Did it get you off, knowing my retribution had finally come?”

“I just wanted to know!”

Their faces are even. Adamek holds a hand
close to her scalp, yanking hard. Nazirah whimpers in pain. “I want
to kill you right now,” he whispers, eyes smoldering. “Just pull a
bit harder, break your neck … make all my problems go away with a
snap. It would be so easy for me.”

“You’re all talk.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growls.

“Do it then!” she yells, grabbing his shirt
and wrenching him closer. “Do it!” Adamek looks so angry, so
incredibly deranged. For a moment, Nazirah thinks he just
might.

He kisses her instead.

Nazirah screams into his mouth, struggling
to push him away. He untangles his hand from her hair, wrapping it
firmly around her waist. Nazirah grabs his shoulders, pounds his
chest, but he doesn’t stop. He presses his body into hers, trapping
her against the wall. The logical part of her brain shouts to keep
resisting, kick him, something. She doesn’t move. Nazirah lets him
kiss her, desperate and hungry and wounded. She lets him kiss her
like she is his oxygen, like he needs it. Adamek breaks contact,
looking into her eyes.

And Nazirah thinks she just might need it
too.

When Adamek bends his head a second time,
Nazirah meets him halfway. She kisses him back. She feels the
surprised intake of his breath, the electric tingle and crackle and
pop. He props her up higher. She wraps her legs around him, trying
to get as close as possible.

Their kisses are sloppy, frantic, and
delirious. Months of pent-up emotion, finally come to fruition.
Both know this deluded fantasy cannot last. It’s a minute to
midnight and reality is knocking. Nazirah slides her fingers past
his shoulders, trails them along his jaw, tugging his hair. Adamek
moans into the back of her throat. He leaves her lips, kissing a
wet trail down her neck and chest. Nazirah arches into him. It
feels so right, but –

The clock strikes.

“Get off.”

Nazirah shoves his shoulders hard with
renewed vigor. She untangles her legs, body tense. Nazirah puts her
hands over her face, sucking her bee-stung, shamed lips. Adamek
steps away, putting her down. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

Nazirah is suddenly insanely angry. “What’s
wrong?” she yells. “This is what’s wrong! We’re wrong!”

“Nation.…”

Adamek reaches for her hand, but she slaps
his away. “Don’t touch me!” she screams, mind racing. “This was
your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Her eyes are dark and wild, lips
bruised and spitting inaccuracies.

“My plan?” he asks coldly. “And what plan is
that?”

“The same one since I met you!” she shouts,
feeling reckless, malicious. “Sacrifice a scratch on your hand for
a notch on your bedpost? What was it you said again in Rafu? ‘Knock
me down from my self-constructed pedestal?’ Tell everyone you
conquered the frigid prude Nazirah Nation, scared little virgin who
gave up everything to Adamek Morgen because she couldn’t control
herself? That’s it … the power you wanted from the start!”

“Is that what you really believe?”

“I don’t know what to believe!” she cries.
“You save my life one day, threaten to kill me the next! It’s
exhausting being around you! Just be honest with me for once!”

“Be honest?” he asks. “How about be honest
with yourself?”

“What do you –”

“Tell me, Irri,” Adamek mocks, “tell me the
real reason you were roaming around my thoughts to begin with. Why
you asked Solomon about me. Why you went back to the
monastery.”

“I told you already,” she snaps; “I was
curious! I needed to know I could trust you!”

“Liar! You’ve been searching high and low
for something – anything! – to latch onto! Something to redeem me,
make me less of a monster in your eyes. Something to make this
pesky attraction you have for me acceptable. But you can’t find it,
Nation.” He leans into her, whispers, “Because I am a monster.”

“You’re wrong!”

“Am I?” he asks. “Face it. You want it just
as much as I do, but you’re scared. You want to be with the man you
wish I were. And you’re afraid to be with the man I actually
am.”

“Get out.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, throwing his arms
up. He backs away from her, at the door now. “I’ll leave you,
princess. Just answer me one final question.” Nazirah crosses her
arms protectively. “Why wouldn’t you let me kill Ramses?”

She stiffens. “Like I said, there was
already too much violence.”

“That’s what you said. But what’s the
truth?”

“You want the truth?” she spits, crossing
the room and standing before him.

“I want you to tell me what I already
know!”

“Fine!” she says. “I couldn’t stand the
thought of you killing anyone else!”

“Thank you,” he says, unreadable.

“Anytime,” she responds. “Now get the fuck
out.”

Chapter
Twenty-Six

They leave for Valestream at dawn, with
Nazirah running on fumes. The abrupt return of her natural
appearance goes unquestioned. Aldrik, abnormally chipper, assumes
the MEDIcine has worn off. Luka shoots several suspicious looks
Nazirah’s way but doesn’t say anything. Adamek doesn’t even
acknowledge her.

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