Revelation (27 page)

"No," she says.

"I can
do
this, Mara. I
have
to."

"Pack your things. Carter is bringing the car around. We'll take you somewhere safe." She eyes Seth cautiously, as if to gauge his reaction. "And then, if you're still adamant about becoming one of us, I'll change you, I promise."

Change me.

"Does he know? Did you tell him?" I don't wait for a response. I turn to Seth, anxious to reveal everything, to fit that final piece in the mystery his life has become. "The Council was using you. That's why you couldn't remember anything before me—why you couldn't stay away from me. You were
never
supposed to be a Guardian. You were . . . like me."

Seth fingers the wisps of hair at my ears, runs his thumb across my lips, says nothing.

"Let me make this
right
," I beg him.

"You can't," he says. "There's something else. Something about Viola. She never had any intention of letting me go. She knew me, somehow, before. Before you, I mean. This whole thing was just a ploy to keep us separated."

The words rip through my body like knives, shredding the inside. "
What
?"

"We were friends—I don't know. But she knew me before you. We were connected, somehow. She was never after you. She wanted
me
."

"
What?
How do you . . ."

"We have to hurry, Genesis," Mara interrupts. "
Please
. If this is true, Seth is in as much danger as you."

His eyes burn into mine, flecked with fear, the entire world collapsing around us. Of course he's in danger. He's
here
. If Viola finds him. . . . If the Council. . . . I can't lose him again. "Okay. We'll go."

I shut off the water, the fan, the lights, slip out of my dress and into jeans and switch out holsters, exchanging thigh for hip. I grab a sweater from my suitcase, a sweater long enough to conceal the handgun. It's fully loaded, fresh magazine bulging in my back pocket, silencer nestled beside it.

"We can't get out," I remind them. "They're right outside."

"I'll create a diversion," Mara whispers. "When this door opens, run. Head straight for the parking lot. Carter will be waiting out front."

Seth and I exchange anxious glances, passing messages through our eyes, our thoughts.

Be careful.

Get ready.

I'll see you on the other side.

He nods. Mara retracts the deadbolt, unlocks the door.

I
suck
in a breath, door swinging wide. Mara exits, turns right, racing down the hall, away from the elevator. The men charge after her.

"Go!" Seth orders, forcing me into the hallway. Our feet pound carpet. I hear them—the men—calling for me as we reach the elevator. I press the down arrow, willing the machine to hurry. I press it again. And again and again and again.

"Come on," I beg, heart pounding in my ears.

Footsteps draw closer.

"Shit!"

I run to the end of the hall, crashing into the stairwell door, Seth on my heels. We skip down steps, one by one. One flight lower and the door opens above.

They're going to catch us.

I
suck
in a breath, jump the next six steps, crouching on the landing. My lungs burn, flaming. I jump the next two sets, skip down a third, pull on the door, and enter a hall.

An older couple waits by the elevator. I stop, out of breath, sweat beading along my hairline, still manage a polite smile.

I check over my shoulder.

Seth is gone.

Shit!

The elevator dings. Opens. The man, eyeing me cautiously, tips his head, offering to let me on first.

"I'll, um, just take the next one," I say, body shaking, aching with dread.

It takes forever for the doors to close, forever before I can sprint back to the stairwell.

"Seth?" I scan stairs above and below.

Nothing. No one. I've lost him.

"Seth?" I plead.

"Elevator," an angry voice commands. "
Now
."

T
HIRTY-TWO

The point of a knife digs at my back, piercing skin, pain shooting through every nerve. My body tenses.

Viola.

I swallow hard, head toward the elevator, push the button that will take us to ground level. My stomach drops as we descend.  

Please stop. Please let someone else get on. Please, someone, help me!

But there is no stopping her.

"It's over," she mutters with an icy vehemence.

I struggle to even my erratic heartbeat, thoughts lagging, trying to make sense of this night, this summer, this
lifetime
of setbacks. "You were trying to keep me and Seth apart," I say. "Why?"

"That's none of your concern."

But it is. Seth
is
my concern. Seth is my
only
concern.

"Where is he?"

"Lucien's men. And
you're
going to get him back."

We step into the lobby. Viola removes a key from her pocket, a key that accesses the penthouse elevator.
My
key. The door whooshes open.

Luke glances up, surprised, just returned from dinner.

"Christ," he hisses, fighting to keep his voice low.  "I asked them to keep you in your room!"

I step inside, turning to find Viola gone. Vanished.

I swallow hard, eyes closing as we rise.
This is it. I have no choice
.

"You can't be here, Genesis.  You've no idea the danger you're in."

"I do."

"No. There are things you don't know about me," he insists.

"There are things you don't know about
me
," I counter, voice barely a whisper.

"I know your intentions, if that's what you mean."

The blood in my veins runs cold, heart tumbling, crashing against ribs, ready to pound its way out of my body. "What?"

The
Stop
button lights against his finger and the elevator lurches, halting between floors. "I know why you came. Why you've been spending time with me." He lifts the edge of my sweater, pulls the gun from its holster, hands it to me.

"How long?" 

"The news came to me before you even checked into this hotel. I sought you out."

"Why didn't you
say
something?" I ask him, eyes narrowing.

"Did you really think you're the first to try this? There was no reason for me to fear you. Once I got to know you I . . . I hoped to change your mind. I can see now that I've failed."

My head goes light, spinning, swirling.

He knew. The
whole
time he knew.
The dinners. The dancing. The almost kisses.

He
let me
play him.

"What does the mark mean?" I ask.

His jaw tightens.

"The mark," I repeat. "It's the fine print, right? You never know what you've lost until it's gone?" I can almost feel the spirit sinking, life draining from his eyes. It's all there. Every hopeful defeat, every regret, an entire universe of disappointment. "It's the Council, isn't it?"

"What do you know of the Council?" he asks.

"Enough."

He clears his throat. "Then you know who I am."

Silence answers for me. "This changes things, doesn't it." It's not a question.

His eyes refuse to drift from mine, shadows of dread darkening his features. And it's like he's staring past surface, directly within. As if he can read the words written across my soul, see the part of me I never believed existed. The part of me worth saving.

"No," he finally says. "It doesn't. It doesn't change anything." He reaches for the release and we're climbing again, rising to the penthouse. "Please. Let me handle this."

Just as we begin to slow the world goes weightless, blackness crowding my vision. I see stars.

This can't happen. Not now.

I exhale an angry breath, trying to focus, to push the vision away.

I have to be able to see.

The elevator bell dings and Luke steps into the massive room. "Have they sent word?" he asks Charles. But, before Charles can even answer, something else snatches his attention. "What's this?"

Seth.

The two men who accompanied me to the room—Seth stands between them, caught. Thick hands grip his arms, lock him in place.

"Who are you?" Luke asks.

Seth's lips remain pressed in a firm line, defiant.

"We found him with the girl," one says.

Luke turns to me. "Do you know him?"

I watch Seth, paralyzed, unable to reply.

"Someone answer me!"

"I'm her Guardian," Seth finally says.

"Her Guardian," Luke whispers. Then, to me: "You're not guarded."

I swallow hard, hold his eyes, try to explain. "I know. Seth
was
my Guardian. I had visions. After the accident. I could see things that were going to happen, so the Council asked for my help. Things got . . . complicated with one of the
Diabols
, so they trained me to fight them. Seth fell trying to protect me."

"The Council," he mutters, rubbing his thumb beneath his chin, considering. "I should've known Silas was involved. Is he the one who sent you?"

My head shakes, refusing to answer or denying—I'm not quite sure—but he sees something—something carved into my expression. Months of training. Sleepless nights. Unadulterated Fear.

"They sent you," he confirms. "What were you promised if you were to succeed?"

I stand still, stone-lipped, afraid to speak the name out loud, afraid if I do, I've already lost him.

"Genesis,
please
," he begs. "We ask for nothing without offering
something
in return. What were you offered?"

A tiny voice sings his name between my ears.

"I can't help you if you won't tell me!"

My eyes squeeze shut, willing time to stop, to go back—before summer, before the accident—back to a time when Seth was safe. Not fallen. Not a Guardian. Human. Protected. Even if it meant never knowing him. . . . Because now I feel . . . The End. It's closing in on us, suffocating. When I open them Luke is watching Seth carefully, studying him, that dull ache permeating his beautiful features.