Silenced (12 page)

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Authors: Natasha Larry

BOOK: Silenced
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At least she’s alive, which means we’ll be able to continue our mission, then maybe I can kill her. Slowly.

Shaking myself out of a stupor, I notice that I’m alone. A fact that shouldn’t surprise me because I saw Juliet and Kiwi leave.

I need rest.

I trudge to the door and lean against it for a while. Then, when I work up the energy, I leave the main grounds and head back for the house.

Hours later, I catch a second wind and can’t sleep. I almost go find Tripp for more monster dro, but that would disrupt whatever mental gear I’ve shifted to.

I seem to have reached some level of not giving a crap that feels important. It feels like survival, a concept that is becoming less and less likely by the minute.

So, I don’t get high and trip balls. Instead, I go down to the basement of the Fox house and hit the gym.

When most dudes get locked up, they come out more ripped than a mofo. My prison was a little different. I feel weak as hell. And I know I have to get my strength back.

My mind shelves all of the crap: the fact that I got Sadie’s arm hacked off, and the general fucked-up-edness that is my life. I shelve it at the back of my head.

Focusing on the burn in my muscles as I do bicep curls helps. Sweat drips down my face, stings my eyes. My pulse gallops. I set the weights down on either side of the bench. Then I lift up and settle face down onto the floor.

I start my first set of push-ups. After the first thirty, I go on autopilot. I have no idea what number I’m on when I feel the urge. I really need to kill someone.

Not only do I need it, I want it. Another thing I want is to feel some level of guilt about that. I suck in a loud breath and lower myself down to the mat, then turn my head.

I listen to my heart sputter, let my eyes slide shut. Rolling over, I prepare for a few sets of crunches when a rush of movement passes through my vision. Hands behind my head, I turn left, toward the movement.

I freeze, blinking up at an unfamiliar female. She waggles her fingers at me. I raise an eyebrow.

“Pike Richards?” she asks.

I push myself up straight and nod. “Who are you?” I ask as I stand up and head to the weight bench. Grabbing the towel, I wipe sweat from my face as I turn back to her.

“My name is Valene. Your roommates said you’d be down here.” Her summery, hazel eyes take me in. “Juliet sent me.”

Draping the towel over my shoulder, I lift my gaze to the ceiling. I wonder if Juliet sensed my mood through our new bond, or if she just has good timing.

“What’s your last name?” I ask, sweeping my gaze back down to her face. Don’t want to make the same mistake twice.

Confusion flickers across her face. She plants her hand on her hip and purses her lips.

“Does it matter?”

I chuckle. “Are you being intentionally glib?”

She shrugs. I bend over to pick up a water bottle and take a swig as I lift back up. Her silence is a cue for me to explain myself.

“If you’re here for the reason I think you are, then yes.” I fold my arms.

She nods, bouncing her wavy, dull red hair over her shoulders. “Spencer.”

“How old are you?”

She huffs, then taps her foot. “What is this, a job interview?”

We stare at each other. She’s the first to break rank with a smile. Her cheeks redden, which is nice. Makes me hungry for strawberries.

But Valene will do.

“Okay, that was intentionally glib.” She rakes a hand back through her hair. “Twenty four. You?”

“Twenty-two.” I offer my hand to her. When she reaches to shake it, I lick my bottom lip. She’s warm. And soft.

And probably not just on her palms.

“Nice to meet you, Valene Spencer.”

She bites down on her thin, lower lip. “You always this polite?”

Holding onto her hand a little longer than I need to, I smile, then slowly release her.

“Why are you here, Valene Spencer?”

She laughs. “Because I’ve been a bad girl.” She turns around and sticks out her ass. “And we both know what they do to bad girls at Compound Six now that you’re back in business.”

My eyes widen. Was not expecting that response. When she turns back to face me, she laughs louder.

“You should lighten up, Pike.”

She’s about to die, and she’s telling me to lighten up.

Interesting.

All I can manage to do is stare at her. She rolls her eyes and sits on the nearby weight bench. Crossing her legs, she sighs.

“Fine, you want an actual answer?”

I nod.

“I’m a bit of a trouble maker. Stealing food. Conning people out of extra shower time. And my latest offense, talking to one of your people.”

“My people?”

She nods, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, yeah.” She holds up her hands in the air, an admission of guilt. “Was shooting the shit with this earth Spirit. Nadine. She’s pretty cool.”

I inch toward her. “Oh, my. You have been a bad girl.”

Leaning back, she grins. “You gonna teach me a lesson?”

I smile. “I am in the lesson-teaching business.” I furrow my brows, having fun with this flirtation. “Let’s see, I can have you write,
Do not to talk to the things the gods made,
on the black board one hundred times.”

Her lips press together, a thoughtful expression settling on her face. “That’s a good start. But, seeing as how it’s my last lesson, maybe you could make it a little more fun.”

Laugher booms out of me. I shake my head. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She straightens the pants of her coveralls. “Good.”

We stare at each other for a few charged moments, enjoying the anticipation, then I clear my throat.

“In all seriousness, aren’t you scared?”

Her head tilts to the side. “Of?”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Oh.” Her bright eyes narrow. “Of you? Of dying?’ She snorts.

Again, not the reaction I was expecting. I reach out to wrap my power around her because I’m curious. And that’s all I feel when I taste her, my own curiosity.

Well, goddamn.

That’s rare.

“No, I’m not afraid.” Her expression almost crumples. “I’m more excited than anything. Never met a siren before.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “Just never ran into one?”

I sigh, then stare at her. Realization brightens her eyes.

“Oh! Why aren’t I afraid?” She frowns. “This conversation is getting depressing. And counterproductive.”

With a smile, I sit down next to her. Leaning over, I brush her hair away from her ear. “If you humor me, I promise to make it up to you.”

Her body trembles. I scan my gaze down the length of her leg to the toes that are curling on the mat.

After a few moments, she huffs. “Okay, only… If I give you one, you give me one?”

I lick my lips. “Bet.”

With a small smile, she tucks her hair behind her ears.

“I’m not afraid of dying, because there’s nothing left to be afraid of.” Her head turns, and she stares straight ahead. “Before this, my life was good. And after... I watched the love of my life turn into this… creature that ate her own frickin’…” She shudders, shaking the bench with emotion. With a sniffle, she pinches her eyelids down with her fingers.

We sit there for however long. I clear my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say.

She turns to me, waving me off. “No, I’ve accepted it.”

Something about the expression makes me curious again. I reach out to taste her. And again, nothing but my own shit bounces back at me.

“Anyway, my turn.”

Straightening up, I nod. “What do you wanna know?”

She purses her lips and studies me for a while. Finally, she claps, then nods her head. “Got it. Is it because you feel guilty?”

I shake my head. “No idea what you’re talkin’ bout.”

“Well, a siren started all of this.” She stares at me with a meaning it takes me awhile to comprehend.

“You’re talking about ole’ Harley, the suicide siren.” I shake my head at memories of her.

“Are you going after this cure because you feel the need to right things, or what?”

With a shrug I say, “I honestly never thought about it that way.” I turn my head and gaze at her. “So no, it’s not guilt.”

“Did you know her?”

I wag my finger at her. “That’s two.”

With a scoff she says, “Serious?”

“’Fraid so.”

She pouts, which makes me smile. Girl is a weird mix of adorable and kick-you-in-the dick independent.

“Can I have just one more? Not about Harley.”

I stare at her for several seconds, pretending to think. “Make it good.”

Her face breaks into a wide grin. “Why does it kill you? Hearing the siren song?”

I hesitate, mouth falling open. No one’s ever asked me that before. Slapping one hand against the inside palm of the other, I shrug.

“It’s not hearing it that kills you,” I say. “Technically, it’s not hearing it.”

She squints at me. Her mouth starts to form and O. I reach out to press my finger to her lips.

“I’m sick of talking,” I say huskily.

Her eyes glaze over, then her breath shallows. “You… started it.”

Ignoring this, I lean in closer to her. So close our noses almost touch. “Think of something you want, right now.”

Her quivering mouth parts. “Other than the obvious?”

“Yeah, something you miss. From before.”

She bites down on her lip again. Her gaze lifts to the ceiling. The flesh around her eyes wrinkles. Then, slowly, a grin spreads across her face.

“Got it?” I ask.

She nods.

“Alright, baby girl. Picture it. Close your eyes and see yourself with it.”

Another nod. Her eyelids flutter shut. After a few minutes, I push my power out of my body, let it touch her. Bumping into something hard, I can tell she has a strong mental picture in her head.

I take a deep breath. “You ready for this shit?”

With her eyes still closed, she jerks her head up and down. I inch a little closer, then I whistle.

Valene’s body goes limp. Her breath comes out in puffs. Leaning over, I brush my lips against her hair as I slide it back. Then, I caress her lobe with my mouth.

As I back away slightly, I say, “Open them.”

Her thin eyelashes flutter as her eyes open. For a moment, she has no reaction, then she gasps and leaps to her feet.

“Holy fuck!”

I laugh and stand next to her. As soon as she looks up at the sky, elation hits me. Yeah, I don’t usually use words like elation, but this feeling deserves a big ass word. This is definitely some elation type shit.

Her face flushes, jaw drooping toward the floor. Her eyes dart toward me, then back up again. Her head shakes slowly from side to side. Warmth rises from my gut. I raise my head and stare up with her.

A deep blue sky sprawls over our heads. Streaks of white trail through, and on the horizon, a bright, pulsing sun casts shadows on the grass under our feet.

This is what she misses from before. Being under a real sky.

“How are you doing this?” she asks.

Tearing my eyes away from the view, I look down. She’s standing right in front of me, wearing an expression that reminds me of a young boy that’s just discovered masturbation.

“Technically, you’re doing this.”

She looks up again. “I don’t understand.”

Twisting my shoulders inward, I lean closer to her. “I’m using you. Your wants created this illusion.”

Birds chirp off in the distance, and she laughs.

“Illusion.” She shakes her head. “It seems so real. It even…feels real, and warm.”

“Yeah,” I say, staring at her.

Her lips curl into a grin. “Wow, you’re frickin’ amazing.”

Her compliment lands in my gut like hot coal. I rub the side of my nose.

“No, I’m not,” I mutter. The scenery around us flickers, replacing endless sky with the gym for half a second.

“What did you say?”

Shaking my head, I square my shoulders and smile. “Nothing.”

She turns all the way toward me and rests a hand against my chest. “So, what else can you do?”

Her fingers slide down until both her hands clamp around my waist.

“Pike,” she breathes, tightening her grip. “Does your singing always make women horny as hell?” Standing on her tiptoes, she presses her lips against the fold of my neck, then trails them across my skin to nibble my earlobe.

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