Wings (A Black City Novel) (23 page)

He rests his head on my chest, and we stay like this for the rest of the night.

ASH

I
T TAKES ME A LONG TIME
to fall asleep, despite how exhausted I am. When I do drift off, my dreams are haunted with nightmarish visions of starved bodies chained to hospital beds, their jaws clamped open. I pull back one of the blankets to reveal my dad lying on the soiled mattress. His body is gray and sunken, his bones jutting out of his ulcerated skin. He grips my arm, and flames erupt from his fingers and lick up my sleeve until I’m engulfed in fire, just like the day I became Phoenix—

I bolt up in bed. My throat is raw from screaming.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Natalie says, drawing me into her arms. I cling to her, trying to catch my breath as a wave of grief crashes over me when I remember my dad’s dead. I focus on breathing,
in out, in out, in out,
until eventually I calm down.

After a few minutes, I reluctantly pull away from Natalie and check the clock on the nightstand. It’s already eleven in the morning. We get out of bed and shower and change. I empty the contents of my duffel bag onto the bed and start putting a few things away. A folded piece of paper flutters to the floor. Natalie picks it up.

“What’s this?” she says.

“Some lab report you got from the Barren Lands about Project Chrysalis,” I say.

She unfolds the document and scans it. Her eyes widen with surprise. She twists the paper around to show me the gray butterfly emblem printed at the top of the page. “Look familiar? This is about Wings. I can’t believe we’ve had the information all this time! We should give this to Dr. Craven; it might be important.”

We head into the main compound. The Sentry stronghold is even bigger than I first realized. Subway trains filled with soldiers swoosh by us at regular intervals while other Sentry rebels march past us, talking in hushed, excited tones about the “upcoming assault.”

We pass command central—a glass-walled room filled with high-tech digital screens and a massive com-desk. Standing around the desk are Natalie’s parents, a younger man with sandy-blond hair and green eyes—his name tag reads Adam Slater—Roach, Acelot and the Lupines Garrick and Sasha. Next to them are Destiny and Sigur. I’m surprised to see them out of their hospital beds. Sigur’s slightly hunched over as he stands, but otherwise alert and focused as he studies the holo-map projected above the com-desk’s screen. It looks like they’re having an important meeting and I wasn’t invited! I angrily push open the door and Natalie follows.

“We’ll take out targets here, here and here,” General Buchanan says. “That will block off access to the city.”

“What’s going on?” I say.

They all look up.

“Good to have you back, Phoenix,” Roach says. Her blue dreadlocks have been tied back, showing off her freckled face. She looks a lot like Beetle.

I turn to Sigur. “Why wasn’t I invited to this meeting?”

“I thought you should rest, son,” he says.

“Is this the attack plan?” Natalie says, studying the map.

General Buchanan quickly runs through their plan of assault on Centrum for us. It’ll be in three phases. We’ll attack Port Cassandra first. It’s on the outskirts of the city, where the main fleet of Destroyer Ships are docked. They’ll then blast all the bridges and connecting roads, isolating the walled city from the outside world, and strike strategic targets, including the Fracture—a shard-shaped skyscraper—where Sentry headquarters are located in Centrum. Finally, the ground troops will take over the city.

“When is this taking place?” I ask.

“Tomorrow, at oh-seven-hundred hours,” General Buchanan replies.

I gaze at the attack plans. Tomorrow the war could be over. I should be delighted, but I’m not. Something doesn’t feel right. Destiny suddenly winces with pain.

“Excuse me, General. I think my sutures are coming undone,” she says.

Natalie’s dad excuses her and she leaves.

I turn my attention back to the map. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” General Buchanan says. “You and Natalie are going to stay here.”

Natalie’s mouth drops open. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m deadly serious,” he says. “There’s no reason for you to come. We have it under control. We’ll come back for you once the Commander is in power and the dust settles.”

Anger boils up in me. I shoot a look at Roach, who frowns back at me, clearly as unhappy about this as I am.

“So let me get this straight. The Sentry rebels are going to take down Purian Rose and put this Commander guy in power instead?” I say. “And where does that leave the Darklings
when the dust settles
? What plans do you have for us in your new regime?”

“They’ll be taken good care of, Ash, you have my word,” General Buchanan says.

“Will we have a voice in the new Sentry government?” I say.

Natalie’s mom, Emissary Buchanan, is the one to answer. “Sigur has been invited to join the council.”

“And what about the Bastets and Lupines?” Acelot asks.

This piques Garrick’s and Sasha’s interest. I’m sure the Lupines are keen to know where they stand in the new Sentry regime.

“We expect a place on the council,” Garrick says. “We’ve risked a lot to support you, Emissary.”

Roach snorts. “The Lupines are
collaborators.
Why should they be rewarded?”

“We don’t all blindly follow Rose,” Sasha snaps. “Many of us believe what he’s doing is wrong. We’ve put our lives on the line to help the rebellion. We deserve a voice too.”

“
Everyone
will be represented,” Emissary Buchanan interjects.

“But the Sentry will remain in charge?” I say. “You’ll still be the ones calling the shots?”

She narrows her cool blue eyes at me. “Yes.”

“This is bullshit,” I mutter, storming out of the room. Natalie chases after me.

“Ash—”

I spin around on her. “What was the fragging point of any of this? I’ve spent months campaigning against Purian Rose, fighting him, trying to unify the species, and tomorrow the Sentry rebels are just going to swoop in and . . .” I grind my fangs together.

“What? Steal your thunder?” Natalie says.

I glare at her. “No. God, you know I don’t give a crap about that. I never asked to be Phoenix; I’m not interested in being some hero.”

“I know you’re not. Sorry,” she says. “Then what’s bothering you? This is what we wanted—to bring Rose down. I’m not going to lie, it’s frustrating we’re not the ones who get to do it, but really, does it matter in the grand scheme of things?”

“Yes, it does!” I say. “I didn’t want to replace one Sentry government with another. How can we be certain things will get better after tomorrow’s attack? We don’t even know who this fragging ‘Commander’ person is. He could be worse than Purian Rose!”

Natalie’s mouth tightens slightly. “I trust my father. I
sort
of trust my mother. They won’t let things continue on as they are.”

“But will it be enough? Will it be what
we’ve
been fighting for?” I take her hand and gently rub my thumb over her palm. Her blue diamond engagement ring sparkles in the fluorescent light. “I don’t want it to be illegal for us to be together. I want to be able to marry you one day,” I say quietly. “I want our kids to be able to get into the Fast Track programs, to have jobs, to be accepted. I want them to have all the opportunities I never did. But in my heart, I don’t believe that will ever happen if the Sentry remains in control.”

“But Sigur will have a say in what happens,” Natalie replies.

“Sigur is just a token, don’t you see that?” I say, getting frustrated. “You heard your mom; the Sentry will be calling the shots. He’s been brought in as a spokesman for the Darklings, so when he tells them to support the new Sentry regime, they will. But it won’t be any different from before. How can it? Until the Sentry are gone, nothing will ever change. Your parents are bullshitting you, Natalie.”

She snatches her hand away, her cheeks flushing. “That’s not true. I think you’re letting your feelings about the Sentry color your opinion of my parents.”

“No, I think the fact that your dad worked in the Barren Lands camp and that your mom tried to frame me for Chris Thompson’s death ‘colored my opinion’ of them,” I retort. “Oh, and not to mention the fact that they tried to
split us up.
So forgive me for being the tiniest bit suspicious about their motives.”

Natalie blinks and tears darken her lashes.

I rake a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. That was out of order,” I mutter.

Natalie bites her lip, shaking her head. “No . . . no, you’re totally right.
I’m
the one who’s being blind. It’s been so wonderful having my parents back, I’ve not been pushing these questions hard enough with them, and I should have been. I’m sorry, Ash.”

I kiss her tears away and hold her against me for a long moment.

“Holidays with the in-laws are going to be interesting when we get married,” I murmur, and Natalie laughs.

We head into the hospital in search of Dr. Craven. Martha is propped up in bed. Her graying hair is loose around her bony shoulders and her wrinkled skin is ghostly white, but there’s a youthful sparkle in her lilac eyes. She gives me a gap-toothed grin. I try not to wince at the sight of her missing fangs. All domesticated Darklings have their fangs removed for safety reasons. She shakily attempts to drink a glass of Synth-O-Blood, splashing it over her nightgown. Natalie rushes over to her and perches on the edge of Martha’s bed, then holds the glass up to the woman’s withered lips.

“Thank you, dear,” Martha says.

Natalie gives her a loving smile.

“Where are Lucinda and Yolanda?” I ask, looking about the near-empty ward. I’m confused to see that Destiny isn’t here; I thought she was coming to get her stitches redone. Huh. She must have already been and gone.

“Yolanda’s with Dr. Craven, and Lucinda went to the Mess Hall with your friends, Day and Beetle, and that nice Bastet boy,” Martha says in her quivering voice, taking another sip of blood before passing it to Natalie.

Natalie places the glass down on the nightstand. “Try to get some rest. I’ll come read to you later, okay?” She kisses the Darkling woman on the cheek, and then we go in search of Dr. Craven in his laboratory at the back of the hospital.

The laboratory is a large room with white walls and furniture, and gleaming silver medical equipment. The doctor is peering through an electron microscope. He’s tall with brassy-blond hair that curls around his ears, and spectacles perched on the end of his long nose. He looks a lot like his son, Sebastian, with the same green eyes and narrow face. Sitting at the com-desk beside him is the Bastet woman Yolanda. She’s got on a white lab coat over a green jumpsuit, and her brownish-red hair is swept back into a functional bun, highlighting her beautiful face.

Dr. Craven looks up from the microscope and smiles at Natalie. “Hello, pumpkin.”

“Hey, Doc. Have you had a chance to run those tests on Wings yet?” Natalie asks.

“I have. Like you suspected, the base component of the drug is Haze and we found traces of Night Whisper.” He gives me a proud look, the kind a teacher gives his student. Once upon a time I
was
going to be his lab assistant, before I met Ash and my life changed forever. “However, we found something else mixed with it.” He punches in a command on the com-desk, and a holographic projection of a double helix immediately appears above the screen. “It’s a retrovirus, designed to alter DNA.”

Natalie shoots a worried look at me.

“Why in hell is Purian Rose trying to change his men’s DNA?” I say. “What’s he turning them into?”

Dr. Craven takes off his glasses. “From what we can tell? Lupines.”

“What?”
I splutter.

“Well, to be more accurate, hybrids,” Yolanda corrects. “Half human, half Lupine.”

“Like Theora,” Natalie whispers. “And Edmund’s grandfather.”

My stomach twists. “He’s trying to make everyone like them. One race—”

“One faith,” Natalie continues.

“One nation, under His Mighty. Fragg . . . ,” I mutter.

We’re all silent for a moment, letting this revelation sink in. This has been Purian Rose’s plan all along: to create a new world in his Blood Mate’s image, where everyone follows the same religion. This is why he’s been rounding up the Impurities and sending them to the Tenth, because only those who are “pure” in his eyes deserve to be transformed into this new race, made entirely of human-Lupine hybrids.

“Why is he only giving the drug to the Tin Men, though? You know, those guys walking around in those gray uniforms with the butterfly pins?” Natalie says. “If he truly believes in ‘one race,’ then why are they the only ones being given the retrovirus?”

Dr. Craven shrugs. “He has to start somewhere, and I suppose a small group of test subjects wouldn’t rouse too much suspicion.”

“He’s rewarding them,” I say darkly. “He thinks he’s giving them a
gift
by being the first people to be turned into his new, purer race.”

“The retrovirus doesn’t work, though,” Yolanda adds. “We’ve run numerous simulations, and the results were worrying, to say the least.” She punches another button, and the double helix disappears to be replaced with a glowing blob, which I assume is a representation of the retrovirus. “In
very
basic terms”—she looks at me, and I smile appreciatively; science was never my thing—“when working correctly, the retrovirus produces DNA from its RNA genome, using its reverse transcriptase enzy—”