Phoenix (18 page)

NATALIE

“IT ARRIVED
a few minutes ago,” I whisper. “I don’t think we’ve been spotted yet.”

Down below, in the center of the compound, there are two Lupines writhing on the ground.

“Garrick and Sasha?” Ash whispers to me.

I nod. “They collapsed about a minute ago. I don’t know why.”

“That’s when we turned on the sonic shield,” Ash replies. “It seems to affect canines.”

“How do we get out of here?” Elijah asks. I notice his nose looks slightly swollen.
He must’ve been injured while fighting the jackals.

I point toward Crimson Mountain, which is a few hundred feet away, to our left. At
the base of the mountain is the boarded-up railway tunnel I noticed earlier, when
we entered the compound.

“I think the Sentry used the tunnel to transport supplies into the camp,” I say. “It
should lead to a depot.”

“Let’s go before they realize Garrick and Sasha are in trouble,” Ash says.

He takes his duffel bag from me, while I carry mine. He refuses to meet my eye as
he rises to his feet. We sneak back inside the administration building. I reach out
my hand toward Ash, but he ignores it. I lower it. Is he mad at me for some reason?
He can’t be upset that I rejected his advances earlier, surely. Ash isn’t like that.
I get a terrible sinking feeling. Did he overhear my conversation with Elijah? But
even if he had, that wouldn’t explain why he’d be angry at me. Unless . . .
unless he’s not mad at all.
Maybe he’s repulsed by me? I never considered that as a possibility; I thought he’d
be devastated by the news, not sickened by it. Humiliation burns at my cheeks.

Ash edges the front door open and peers outside, just as a searchlight comes on from
the Destroyer Ship. He swiftly shuts the door. The blue light shines through the dusty
windows, filling the corridors with its eerie glow. We crouch down as the light scans
the building once, twice, before moving on.

“Now,” Ash says, opening the door.

We run outside and hurry for cover between the barracks. They don’t offer much protection;
if the searchlight turns on this area, we’ll be spotted immediately. Ash takes the
lead as we dart from building to building. The light sweeps toward us, and we slam
our backs against the wall. I shut my eyes, whispering a prayer. It passes by, just
missing us. Adrenaline courses through my veins, making my pulse race. Ash takes my
hand, sensing my panic, and immediately my heartbeat slows. His touch means more to
me than he realizes. Perhaps he simply didn’t notice my outstretched hand earlier,
and that’s why he didn’t take it?

We run to the tunnel, hand in hand, Elijah following. The searchlight fixes on something
in the center of the compound: it’s found Garrick and Sasha. We have a few minutes
at most before a Transporter comes down for them and the area is crawling with Sentry
guards. I don’t understand why they didn’t bring the guards down with them in the
first place, though. It doesn’t make much sense, but I’m not going to complain about
a bit of good fortune.

We reach the tunnel, and Ash and Elijah start pulling at the wooden boards nailed
in front of the entrance. Above us, a hatch opens in the Destroyer Ship and something
metallic streaks across the night sky. A Transporter.

I help Ash and Elijah with the boards, yanking at them with all my might, ignoring
the splinters digging into my hands.

Dust stirs in the air as the Transporter lands nearby.

“Hurry!” Elijah says, pulling at the wood.

He tears off another plank, creating a hole just big enough for us to squeeze through.
Ash and I toss our bags through the gap, and then the three of us clamber through
the hole, dropping to the other side just as bright lights flood the camp. We don’t
hang around to find out if we’ve been spotted. We sprint into the depths of the pitch-black
tunnel. I’ve never known darkness like it—I’m totally blind. My feet keep getting
caught in the wooden ties of the railway track, making me stumble more than once.
I run my hand along the stone wall until my fingers find a cold, hard metal railing
about four feet from the ground, and I cling to it, trying to rein in my terror.

There’s a loud grumble, and at first I’m worried we’re having a cave-in. Then Elijah
gives a small laugh.

“Was that your stomach, Darkling?” he whispers in the dark.

“I haven’t eaten in days,” Ash replies through gritted fangs. He leans against the
wall for a moment, letting out a low groan as his stomach rumbles again. Yet again,
I wish I could do something to help.

“Are you all right?” I ask him.

“I’ll be fine.” He staggers onward into the blackness.

Somewhere deep in the passageway, I hear the chatter of bats and just pray they’re
not infected with the Wrath as well. I can’t deal with flesh-eating bats and man-eating
dogs all in one night. My eyes start to adjust to the dark, not so much that I can
see things clearly, but enough to differentiate between the shades of black: lighter
black is air; darker black is the curved tunnel walls. Even so, I keep my hand firmly
grasped around the cool railing as I follow Ash.

I’m starting to get the vibe that he doesn’t know I’m ill. It’s just the way he’s
acting around me—he seems concerned, but only the normal amount you’d expect given
our predicament, not “my fiancée is going to die of a horrific virus” kind of worried.
I don’t think he overheard my conversation with Elijah earlier. If he had, I’m certain
he would’ve mentioned it by now.

In one way it’s a relief—I can spare us both the heartache for a while longer, until
I find the strength to tell him. But eventually, I will have to break the news to
him, and that’s not a conversation I want to have. I know that as soon as the words
fall out of my lips, it’ll mean the end of our relationship. I’ll
have
to leave him, not just for his own safety, but because it’ll be the kindest thing
to do. I can’t let him watch me rot and die the way his mother did. My heart cramps
at the thought of losing him, and Ash sucks in a breath, feeling my pain. That’s the
only problem with being Blood Mates; every time my heart bleeds, he feels it too.
He looks over his shoulder again at me, his eyes glimmering with concern.

We walk through the dark tunnel for hours, until I think I’ll go mad if we don’t get
out of here soon. Thankfully, I don’t think we’re being followed. I’m sure we would’ve
heard them by now.

“What do you think the others are doing right now?” Elijah asks.

Ash stops and rummages around his bag, pulling something out. “I forgot I had this,
sorry,” he says. There’s a flick of a switch and immediately the portable digital
screen’s bright light fills the tunnel. The sudden change in light hurts my eyes,
but it’s a relief to be able to see again. We listen to the latest news reports, while
Ash uses the digital screen like a flashlight.

For over an hour we hear story after story about members of Humans for Unity being
rounded up and executed. The Sentry’s hit rebel factions in Fire Rapids, Red Winter,
Lithium, the list goes on. I quickly do the sums. That’s over two hundred people,
dead. The numbers are really shocking when you consider Purian Rose only declared
war on us a few days ago. If things continue on at this rate, the rebellion won’t
last long. I glance at Ash. His face is illuminated by the bluish glow of the digital
screen. His mouth is set in a grim line. He’s obviously thinking the same thing as
me: we have to find the Ora, and fast.

“Can we take a break?” Elijah says. “My feet are killing me.”

I don’t want to stay in the tunnel forever, but I’m sweating from exhaustion, and
I know Ash can’t carry on much longer, given the way he’s clutching his stomach. We
find a recess in the tunnel wall and sit down, using our coats as pillows. Ash puts
the digital screen on the ground between us so we can share the light.

“I’m going to use the little girls’ room,” I say, hurrying down the tunnel until I
find another recess in the wall. It’s much darker down here without the light of the
digital screen, and I try to be quick, spooked out by the idea of rats, cockroaches
and heaven knows what else scurrying about in the gloom.

When I’m done, I rush back toward Ash and Elijah, tripping on a railway strut in my
haste. I crash to the ground, cutting my hand and arm on a broken wooden tie. Wincing,
I sit up and check my wound. A large splinter is sticking out of my arm. I bite my
lip as I pull out the splinter of wood. Blood oozes out of the wound, and I gingerly
get to my feet, keeping my arm elevated.

“Ash? Elijah?” I call out, unable to see them. “I’ve hurt myself. I—”

There’s a terrifying growl, which echoes down the tunnel, chilling me down to my marrow.
Something lunges toward me in the dark, hitting me with such force that all the wind
is knocked out of my lungs. I can’t even scream as the creature yanks my head to one
side, exposing my throat. All I think is
Wrath Hound.
But then I notice the cotton of a shirt, the scent of bonfires and musk, the warmth
of Ash’s breath spilling over my skin. My heart clenches with fear, for me, for him.

“Don’t!” I scream as his fangs prick my skin.

Suddenly his weight lifts off me. There’s a loud crunch of bones hitting stone as
Elijah flings Ash against the tunnel wall. Blood pumps out of the wound in my arm.
Ash snarls and pounces at me again, but Elijah swiftly hooks an arm around Ash’s throat,
holding him back. Ash’s boots kick at the dirt as he struggles against Elijah, but
the Bastet is too strong. Eventually, Ash’s thrashing slows down, until finally he
stops, subdued, his bloodlust gone. Even so, Elijah doesn’t let go.

I check my neck, relieved to find Ash didn’t puncture my skin.

“Are you okay?” Elijah asks me.

“Yes,” I say, although the crack in my voice gives me away.
Ash attacked me.
How can I possibly be okay? I know Darklings drink human blood, but it’s the first
time he’s ever tried to feed on me like I was prey.

“He’s hungry, and the smell of your blood made him crazy,” Elijah says quietly as
I edge toward him. “He didn’t know what he was doing. You might want to bandage that
arm, though.”

I go back to our recess and find Ash’s black headscarf in his bag. I rip a length
of material from the headscarf and wrap it around my arm in an attempt to bandage
it. It’s not perfect, but it stems the flow of blood and seems to calm Ash down a
little. I sit on the pile of coats, still shaken.

“I’m sorry,” Ash manages to say.

“I know. It’s okay,” I reply, and then look at Elijah. “We need to get him some food.
I heard some bats earlier. Maybe we can catch one of those . . . ?”

Elijah shakes his head. “Even if we could catch one, it wouldn’t be enough to feed
him.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I wipe them away, hating the fact that I can’t help the boy
I love. The Wrath isn’t just killing me; it’s killing him. Without saying another
word, Elijah bites his wrist, causing blood to spill out of the puncture wounds, and
holds his bleeding arm up to Ash.

“I’d rather die,” Ash spits out.

“You will die if you don’t eat,” Elijah replies.

“Won’t your blood kill him?” I say.

“No. Only Bastet venom is toxic to Darklings. Our blood can sustain them,” he says.

I turn to Ash, keeping my voice soft, pleading. “Please drink, Ash. For me?”

Ash briefly shuts his eyes and then reluctantly takes Elijah’s arm. He places his
lips over the puncture wounds and begins to feed, tentatively at first, then with
more fervor. A groan forms in his throat, and he draws Elijah’s arm closer, drinking
greedily. Elijah sways slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. Blood spills over Ash’s
lips, dripping onto the earth. He twists his fingers through Elijah’s hair and yanks
his head to one side, sinking his fangs into Elijah’s neck. A sigh escapes Elijah’s
lips as the Haze floods his bloodstream. He droops against Ash, his breathing labored.

“That’s enough,” I say after a minute, when I know Elijah can’t take any more.

“No,” Ash snarls, his lips berry red. “More.”

“Let him go,” I say firmly.

He releases Elijah, who falls back against the wall, drugged and drained. Ash’s thirst
is still evident, his eyes wild and predatory. Just like the eyes of the Wrath that
murdered my father. He sees the fear on my face, and it’s like a switch is flicked
off inside him, the animal tamed. Ash wipes his mouth and somehow manages to get to
his feet. He mutters something about needing to go to the restroom and heads farther
up the tunnel, although I know he’s just trying to get away from me.

When Ash is gone, I tend to Elijah, checking his pulse. It’s slow but steady.

“Are you all right?” I ask him, ripping another strip off the black headscarf and
wrapping it around his bloodied arm.

“Everything’s sparkling,” he says dreamily.

“That’s the Haze. It makes you feel funny,” I reply. That’s an understatement. I remember
the time Ash accidentally gave me a hit of Haze—the euphoria and visions were intense.
I’m actually a bit jealous of Elijah right now. I could do with a little happiness,
even if it is chemically induced. The pain of my sister’s death and the grief over
my own illness aches through me, weighing me down.