When Silver Moons Rise (Lost Immortals Saga #2) (15 page)

But as soon as I let my guard down, I think of the way Muriel died and then it’s a little easier to hate him again. Well, maybe not completely.

Outside the abandoned theatre building, a gang of Outcast rebels shout, filling the night with hoots and hollers. The gruff sound of barking dogs sends quivers of anxiety through my chest. I’ve never left Castle Hayne before except for the time I was sent to the detention camp. But even my adventure in the Ruins was a supervised one. Adults were only a radar signal away. That period in my life seems as if it happened over a lifetime ago. In this world of death, ruin, and murder I’ve ventured into, it seems as though time stands still.

The parts of the Dim Lands the tidal waves didn’t reach are filled with people aching for some resemblance to a normal life. I’ll never be able to go home once the leaders find out I’ve been in the land of the Outcasts. And if the gangs running through the streets discover a couple of angel-bloods are in the city, they’ll rip both of us apart and bleed us dry.

Unfortunately, that tiny bit of truth binds me to Seth, even though I hate to admit it, I do need him.

I glance over to where he lays and study his features again: the long noble face (so much like Faris’s) the lean, but muscular body (again…like Faris).

You’ve got to stop this. Now! I don’t stop though.

The main difference between the two boys is their hair color and texture. Where Seth has the gray streaks framing his face and wavy brown hair, Faris has straight black hair that he usually wears in a ponytail. Now, that I know the two are brothers, the way they resemble one another so much is, well, a little bothersome to me.

“I feel you staring at me,” he says with his eyes closed.

Wait! The ghost has come alive.

Right away, he moves to a position on his side and props his head over on his hand. He gives me a mischievous, dimpled grin. “Does it turn you on when you compare me to my brother?”

Crap! Busted, Prizeon.

Damn him for being so observant.

“I wasn’t looking at you that way. Creepy noises were coming from inside that wall behind you. They woke me up. So, both you and your ego can go back to sleep.” I turn to my bag on the floor and shuffle through it. I’m not really looking for anything. I just need to distract myself until the stupid heat in my cheeks clears up.

“I sometimes watch you sleep. It’s only fair I allow you to do the same for me. Watching you is entertaining, really.”

Okay, um, maybe I’d rather deal with the ghostly version of him.

“Well, don’t get used to it,” I say and adjust my sleeping bag. I lie down, and turn my back to Seth. I can still feel his eyes studying the back of my head. Since he’s going to keep doing the creepy-guy thing, I figure I’ll hit him in the gut as best I can.

“What happened between you and Desi?”

He clears his throat and shuffles around on the floor. The hold he has over me fades as the uncomfortable mood shifts to him.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in my sex life?”

I scoff and say, “It’s nothing like that, ego freak. I’m curious about what makes you do the things that you do.”

“Hmph. Do you mean to ask why I’m not a pushover like my baby brother?” he asks.

“No, I want to know the answer to my question about Desi.”

He mumbles something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like “stubborn brat.” And then he says, “We met, screwed around, broke up, and now we hate each other. There’s not much to it. I know. You’re disappointed.”

I turn toward him, look him straight in the eyes, and say, “Does it turn you on to use girls and throw them away when you’re done?”

“I haven’t thrown you away yet, have I?” he says, smiling with his eyes.

“I’m not your girl.”

“Time can change anything,” he answers.

“Never.” I couldn’t be more serious.

“Dangerous word. Known to sometimes come back and bite its speaker in the ass.”

“Go to sleep, Seth,” I say and lie down, turning my back toward him. I can never win with this guy. He makes a light chuckle, and then I hear him shuffling around inside his bag.

“For your information, I did Desi a favor. She turned out just fine,” he says. Do I actually hear concern in that monotone, no emotion voice of his?

“How can hurting someone be a good thing?” I ask.

“It’s better than telling a person how much you care about them, and then leaving them all alone. Nothing to keep the person company but a bunch of useless words hanging in the air. Affection isn’t something to be thrown around lightly. If you use that word, then you should follow up in your actions. Otherwise, you need to avoid it like a disease. Save everybody the aggravation of heartache and pain.” He forcefully zips his sleeping bag shut. “Tell me, which one of us is worse? Me or my brother?”

I don’t know.
“Go to sleep, Seth,” I repeat and close my eyes. I exhale a shaky breath as the harsh reality of his words sink in. Once again, he has hit me where I’m hurting the most.

* * *

The next morning, I awaken to an empty room. Panicking, I listen to the banging and shouting coming from inside the theatre’s seating area for a minute before hopping to my feet. I gather my things in less than twenty seconds and rush down the stairway. Seth fights off a group of eight Outcast guys, the ones who wear the big spikes on their clothes and helmets. With the wounds on his back crippling him, he’s losing big time.

I reach for my sword, but it’s missing.
Crap!
The only other weapon left to use is Seth’s sickles. The rod with the strange mix of chains, balls, and hooks lies on the ground beside the theatre’s door. One of the six men that are fighting Seth spots me. Panic washes over me.

In that moment, I decide that it’s either going to be me standing here looking like an idiot, or me picking up the Tainted weapon I have no idea about how to use. The Outcast grins, starts banging on his chest, and then makes this guttural kind of primal yell.

“Okay, choice number two, it is,” I say and take off running toward Seth’s rod. I lift the rod up and wonder why the manic, yet excited look crosses over Seth’s face.

The last time I was near this strange weapon, Seth attempted to hook my body up with it. Surprisingly, the thick sickle and chain isn’t as heavy as I imagined it would be.

Lifting it above my head, I move closer to the group. Seth fights as well as he can given his inability to do anything Tainteds can normally do. A small part of me flicks between the obvious choices of this moment: 1) fight with him or 2) let him die. By allowing me to use his weapon, he has forced my hand in one way or the other.

I inhale deeply. A tall guy that rivals Mr. Oxendine’s seven-feet of muscular height slams his fists down on Seth’s shoulders, bringing him to his knees
. The other seven guys circle him, teasing us. I’m pretty sure they believe this game is done.

“You know, Lotus,” Seth says through gasps, “this might be a good time to make up your mind about using those.” He’s right. I don’t want to end up in another situation like the one I faced with Zeke.

I rush forward, screaming as loudly as I can. I figure if these guys think I’m crazy, then maybe that’ll distract them. But my wild-girl act isn’t what’s scaring the crap out of them. Instead, they’re frightened eyes watch the way the chains have taken on a life of their own in my hands.

The ends of the weapon fly out all around me. My heart thumps. One wrong move and a blade will take off an arm or a leg or even worse, my head! I’m surrounded by an octopus made out of chains, its eight legs reaching out to shatter my attackers.

“She’s one of the Tainted too. Let’s get out of here!” the smallest guy yells.

“I say she’s putting on a show,” the Oxendine look-alike that holds on to Seth says back.

“Think so? I dare you to walk toward her and find out,” Seth suggests. Oh boy, he’s slick. I suspect he knows what’ll happen to this guy. Can I let this go on? The time to make a decision flies by. The guy stalks toward me, his knife aimed to strike.

“Are you crazy?” I shout at my attacker.

“Little girls who know how to handle big chains are hot,” he says, grinning instead of realizing he’s probably about to die.

“Stay back!” I yell. He doesn’t listen. Instead, he charges toward me, his knife raised above his head.

I close my eyes and squeeze them shut. The daredevil doesn’t make it within ten feet of my body before I hear a blood-curdling yell. Terrified of what I’m about to see, I fight against my instinct and open my eyes wide. My attacker drops to his knees and grasps his hand covered in blood. The knife lies on the ground beside him. I gasp and try to control the sickles. The more I try to pull the chains together, the faster the ends swirl around me.

“Make it stop!” I say to Seth whose wild eyes are focused on me handling his weapon.

“Told you she was Tainted,” one of the rogues shouts and then takes off running in the opposite direction. All eight guys scatter, stealing one last glance back at the
Tainted
girl and her octopus weapon.

“I’m not Tainted, you idiots!” I yell.

“You sure about that, Lotus?” Seth says as he stands and dusts himself off. Slowly, he approaches me. I don’t know why, but I get the feeling that in his mind, I just passed some kind of weird test that only Seth can understand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who can handle my 
weapon
with such gracefulness.” He gives me a devious, dimpled grin. Pure evil. There’s no other way to describe somebody like him. The octopus slows down as though Seth has issued some kind of silent command.

“Here, take your balls and chains. They disgust me.” I hold the rod out and let the weapon fall to the ground.

“I couldn’t tell. From where I stood, you seemed to have been enjoying them very much,” Seth teases.

I roll my eyes at his innuendo, and say, “You are just as disgusting as that weapon.” I head back toward the doorway leading up to the old projection room, the spot where I dropped my backpack, and try not to think of the man who lost his fingers because of me. Mother’s sword lays at the bottom of the old stairway. It’s funny because I have no idea about how it got there.

“Only other Tainteds can use this kind of stick. The chains don’t work for just anybody. Know what that means?” He reduces the octopus back down to a stick with a chain hanging out of the end. His weapon must be the Tainted equivalent of the Caduceans’ schorls.

I shrug and start walking toward the place where we left his demon cycle out back. He grabs me by the elbow, causing me to turn around. His eyes gleam and his whole face beams more than I’ve ever seen on him.

“What?” I ask, feeling completely uncomfortable with the way he stares at me without saying a word.

“There’s darkness around you,” he whispers, “I can feel it. The rage inside you commands my weapon.”

I shake my head. “I know what you’re trying to do. Sorry, it’s not working.” But I feel there’s some truth to Seth’s words, and I lower my eyes before he starts feeding on my doubt. He is a Tainted, and I’ll do well to remember that little tidbit. He places a finger under my chin and lifts it, so I’m staring into his eyes again.

“The rage is like a tidal wave: intriguing, powerful, dangerous—a natural force that calls to your curiosity, hypnotizing you with its massive beauty. You stand there and watch the waters rise, even though you know you’ll die when it falls. Tell me, seraph. What will you do when the dark power of the tidal waves calls to you?”

“I—I’ll…” 
I have no idea.

He’s so close to me, I feel helpless the way I did when he first approached me at the library a few months ago. That day, he mentioned the word equilibrium, a way to balance both the light and the dark inside me. I don’t understand what any of this means. I wonder if I should.

“Answer. The. Question,” he urges.

“I’ll turn away from anything that’s dark,” I mutter, sounding weak.

“We’ll see.” I get the dimpled grin. And then he takes a couple of steps back, freeing me from those eyes that seem to swallow all of my willpower the longer I glance into them.

Seth moves around me, uncovers the bike, and slings his bag across his body. I almost sigh out loud when he puts on his black sunglasses.

“You coming? Or do you intend to keep standing there until the next gang comes along?” he says and revs the motorcycle until it starts.

Desperately trying to regain control of my brain, I adjust my backpack and crawl onto the seat behind him.

Chapter Eighteen

Leechy Things (Chela)

The motorcycle takes us far into enemy territory before it finally sputters out and dies. By now, word of the exiled angel-bloods, translation-Seth and me, has gotten around. Things can get tricky if we run into gangs looking for blood. We keep to the main roads during the day, and walk through the woods at night, setting up camp using portable tents he found in the last Dim City we stayed in.

Seth and I walk along the edge of a river. Our trail follows an embankment that has to be at least fifty-feet high up in the air. He has yet to fill me in on what his important trip to the prison is all about. I feel cheated and annoyed because he knows why I’m searching for Faris.

What will I do when I find him? It’s not like I can call on the Grace, my sleeping power. It didn’t work back at the train station, and I’m pretty sure I won’t have any better luck after I reach Faris. If there are armies to deal with then how will I stop them? I’m pretty sure the Grace is either damaged or gone. I’m lost in that last thought when the ground gives way under my feet. I slide down the hill, fall on my side, and roll toward the river.

“Chela! What the hell?” Seth calls out.

My body splashes into the river. The water feels different from the ocean that Faris and I swam inside. “Help!” I manage to yell out.

Ice cold liquid crashes against my skin; and something else latches on to me as my body is forced to move downstream by the rush of the water. I’m not a great swimmer. In fact, I don’t swim at all. I live in Castle Hayne. There are no pools and no need for kids to learn how to swim.