Tainted Energy (The Energy Series Book 1) (24 page)

Lena

W
hy did steps in scary castles last
about a mile? Not that I've been in many scary castles, but I've sat through
plenty of movies.

I tried
to swing around to get a look at Zander, but his limp body, arched where
Casimir held his shirt, just bounced and flopped. When I twisted too far the
Warden gave a jerk, making my teeth rattle.

Four
flights later, he kicked a solid wooden door open, flinging us in with no
effort. The Warden straightened his muslin, button-down shirt, tucking the ends
into his pants. He smiled while smoothing back his dull brown hair. "My
apologies for not offering a small repast, but I had not expected company so
soon."

I wanted
to claw out his colorless eyes, beat on him until he cried like a baby. But I
could only picture it because my frozen toes and no sleep weren't gonna let me
do anything. "You won't win."

I wanted
it to sound threatening.

He
laughed.

My ego
stung as much as my feet.

He shut
the door, a click of the key in the lock following. I crawled over to test it,
in case I heard wrong. The thing didn't budge. A look through the antiquated
keyhole showed him humming as he sauntered down the stairs. I slumped to the
floor and took in the room.

From
what I could see in the dim light, a large bed occupied most of the back wall.
Well, it was a mattress on a sleigh frame with strands of decaying straw poking
through threadbare cloth. Calling it a bed might be pushing it. The walls and
floor were wet stone with puddles in all the edges and corners. The combination
of wetness and straw gave the room a musty smell that turned the acid in my
stomach. A small window, the sole access to the outside, sat on the far wall,
its size like one of those windows in submarines. Portholes, I think they were
called.

I drug
my body to Zander's. My toes stung with every move, so numb I'd probably have
to cut them off if I ever made it out of here. Once I crawled to his side, I
rolled him onto his back and put my head to his heart. A faint thumping met my
ear.

"Zander,"
I said, shaking him. "Wake up. You need to get up." I had no idea if
that'd bring his energy back. Probably not.

Silence
validated my thought.

His
shallow breathing kept me from going crazy. He lived. That was all that
mattered at the moment. I pressed my body close to utilize his heat and tangled
my feet in his pant legs. We lay like that for a while, my toes feeling like
they might break off, and Zander, unconscious and pale.

Christ,
wake the hell up.

I
covered my ears to block out the sounds of water dripping on the floor in soft
plinks. Just when I wanted to start screaming, that bright blue light zipped
through the window. The effect was strong, but my body was so damn busted, I
thankfully didn't get all crazy in love with it again.

"Zander?"
I leaned in closer. "Wake up. Open your eyes."

Hot
tears flowed down my cheeks, freezing as soon as they hit my jawline. They went
ignored as I kept pleading, cheering on every movement he made. When he moaned,
I cried, inching closer to his body.

He wrapped
his arms around me.

I sunk
my face in the crook of his neck.

He
patted my shoulders, his strength at about a two.

I kept
my face smashed against his neck.

When his
hold reached a seven, stingy strands of heat coursed through every part of my
body except my blue feet.

"Lena."
He croaked like a frog.

"I'm
here." I snuggled closer to his warmth, allowing the pull his presence
always had to wash over me.

"Where,"
his hold slackened as he tried to get up, "where are we?"

I helped
him sit. He steadied himself and scooted over to lean against the foot of the
bed, eyes hitting every visible corner of the room. "This isn't good."

Give
the man a cigar!

Hysteria
bubbled in my throat making my laugh sound more like an angry hyena. He held
out a hand, and without hesitation, I burrowed into his side, folding myself as
close and as small as I could next to him. "What're we gonna do?"

"Give
me a minute, okay? I'll figure something out."

I stayed
in his arms, allowing the hysteria to overwhelm and dissolve. My breathing
returned to normal. The color of my toes didn't. Desperate, I tucked my feet
under his legs, animal instinct taking over. Heat first, think later.

He
jumped. "Your feet!"

Still
unsteady, he bent to cradle what were now popsicles. Trembling hands rubbed
them until they stung. Blood started to circulate and a hint of color washed
over the tops. After sliding both of my feet in one of his own thick socks, he
sat on them. He then curled his bare foot underneath his opposite leg and
pulled me close to his side, grunting from the effort.

Pain
shot through my throbbing toes as they steadily became warmer–thanks to the guy
who made sure I landed here in the first place. That'd be discussed later;
bigger things needed to be fixed now.

Squeezing
my upper arms, I glanced around to the other side of the bed, making out a
mound in the dark corner. Words left my mouth right before my feet slid from under
Zander's butt. "What the–"

Relief and
hate didn't usually hang out together. New feelings for a new place, I guess.

At least
the lump wasn't my mother.

I
struggled to my feet and hobbled to the corner. He looked so weak and frail. Not
anything like the drunk I'd grown up with. His usual yellow-tinged skin was now
white, but he didn't seem to be suffering much. At least he had his shoes.

"I
thought you were dead." My voice shook. Disappointment didn't even cover
it.

"What's
goin' on, girl? Where we at?"

I
calculated the time he'd been here. Six days. Not long enough. "He should've
killed you."

His
death was the one positive to come out of this whole mess. I didn't even get
that.

The
coward.

My
father.

I yanked
off his shoes and socks while he kicked at my hands. Six days being here
weakened his body, giving me a slight advantage, even with the lack of sleep
and freezing feet. The new rush of adrenaline didn't hurt either. Somewhere in
the back of my mind, Zander's plea to stop registered. His pull didn't come
anywhere near as potent as the hatred for the sniveling piece of shit in front
of me.

"What're
you doing? I'm gonna freeze." Dad's whine boiled my temper.

The
bruise he created still marked my cheek, and my body wasn't as strong as it
could have been, thanks to him. I stopped grappling with his feet and smacked
his face, finding strength in his pitiful crying. I smacked him again, loving
the power–and somewhere deep inside, hating myself for loving it. After the
fourth slap, his lip bled.

By the
time I raised my hand for the fifth, Zander caught my arm. "Stop, Lena."
His soft voice screamed loud in my ears.

My
vision cleared enough to see what I'd done. My father, curled even tighter,
crying as he held his bleeding face.

I backed
up, still holding his shoes and socks in one hand, until I reached the opposite
wall. Sitting to pull the socks on, I threw Zander back his, and shoved my
father's old canvas shoes on my stinging feet. Rage pumped blood faster through
my veins. It killed me to admit that for all these years, I let that whining
blob huddled in the corner terrorize us.

Not
anymore.

As I
tied his cheap sneakers, Zander lowered beside me. "He makes things a
little more complicated."

I
finished, not bothering to look up. Even the strong dose of Zander heroin didn't
crumble my new resolve. "No, he doesn't." I stood. "He stays."

"He'll
die here."

"Good."
I limped to the window, ignoring the wails coming from the corner. "Oh,
what? It's okay for the son of a bitch to scare me, make me weak? You're all
right with that, but me leaving him here is a no-no? Kiss my ass."

"Don't
sink to his level…or mine. I know sorry won't make up for it, but it's all I
got right now." Zander put his hands on my shoulders.

I
stiffened, shrugging them off. Sorry didn't even scrape the surface. "He
stays."

"Please
don't leave me here, peanut."

I pushed
Zander on the way to the corner. I didn't move when Dad's lanky arms wrapped
around my legs. He whined, said he loved me. When he stayed at my feet, I
kicked him, right in the stomach. "Don't ever say those words to me again."

Zander
was right behind me. "Please, Lena."

Another
shove and I backed away from them both. "He's your problem. Don't expect
any help." I pushed both hands through my spiky hair and faced my dad. "And
if you do make it back, you're on your own. Me and Mom are done with you."

He
nodded, tucking his bare feet under him.

I
glanced back at Zander. "Happy? Christ, maybe if I beat the shit out of
first-graders you'd have tried to keep the demons away, huh?" I snorted,
looking out the window before meeting his gaze head-on. "You two deserve
each other."

"You're
better than me. You always were." His voice shook, right along with his
lip.

Oh, man,
I really didn't want to feel the pity creeping in. "Whatever. Right now
all I care about is getting outta here."

I waited
for an answer for all of five seconds before I cleared my head, calmed my
breathing, and started thinking. I checked the door hinges, trying to push the
rusted metal stays out of their homes. When that failed, I went back to the
window, figuring the odds of making it to the bottom alive. Knowing a hundred-foot
drop would kill us, I scrapped that idea for good.

The
entire hour I spent trying to find an out, Zander spent it sitting on the bed
watching me.

"The
least you could do is act like you're trying."

He
swallowed, anxiety written all over his face, but when he said, "I have a
plan," the elation flowing through my body pushed out any concern. Hope
was an even more powerful drug than Zander heroin.

I sat
beside him and grabbed his wrist, squeezing until he winced. "Tell me."

His face
paled, and he swallowed.

"Your
energy. Right, yeah, good. They took Tarek to, shit, wherever they take your
bad guys. Find him first, make sure he's okay and get to Wilma. You think you
can lead her to him?"

He
nodded, his eyes pleading. "I can try." He hesitated. "I'll do
anything. I meant that. I'm not a monster, Lena."

My heart
sank. "Prove it."

Zander
trailed a finger down my cheek before I could find the desire to pull away. "I
do love you. From the first time I saw you."

I closed
my eyes, fighting the old emotions, wanting to believe him–having a hard time
doing it. "How long can you leave your body?"

He took
the hint, removing his finger from my face. "A few hours. I can try a
couple times, but the longer I'm away, the weaker my body gets."

Well,
his weakening body was something I was more than willing to sacrifice. "Yeah,
okay… do what you can."

Hmm.
Nope, I wasn't really the better person.
But I was completely okay with that.

He lay
flat on the smelly, wet straw-filled bed. "When I go, my energy is going
to affect you. You need to keep your eyes closed, that'll make it easier."

I sat on
the edge of the bed. "I'll be fine."

"Seriously,
Lena. I can't have you jumping out the window to follow me."

"I
won't go out the window. God, give me a little credit."

He
laughed a little. "I'm pretty irresistible."

There
was my Zander. The one I'd miss for the rest of my life after I got over hating
the real Zander. Hopefully, said life would last longer than the next few
hours.