The Havoc Chronicles (Book II): Unbound (24 page)

“You need to go,” she said. “Prom is practically a rite of passage.”

I tried to argue, but she and Rhys teamed up on me until I finally consented. I really did want to go, just not like this. Not with Eric’s words echoing in my head, his accusations vivid in my memory.

But that evening when I saw myself in the mirror after everything was done, I understood why Mom was so insistent. It was the first time in my life that everything had come together at once – hair, makeup, nails, and clothes. For the first time in my life I actually
felt
beautiful. I was no longer awkward preteen Madison, nor was I Berserker Madison who spent her evenings training to kill monsters. It was like living in some alternate reality where for one evening I was a model or – I was embarrassed even to think it – a princess. I even had a matching purse to go with the dress. It wasn’t very big so I had to make some strategic choices about what to bring. In the end I opted for a small container of lip gloss, my EpiPen, and the varé. After what had happened with Eric, I wasn’t going to go anywhere unarmed again. 

When Rhys showed up wearing an expensively cut black tux, the expression on his face was difficult to decipher. He said nothing and just stared at me, looking slightly confused.

I shifted uncomfortably and smoothed the front of my dress. “Do I look ok?” I asked, suddenly feeling insecure.

My question startled Rhys out of his thoughts. He gave me a smile that made all my time spent in preparation worth it. “You are dazzling,” he said. “Easily the most beautiful woman I have seen in well over a hundred years.”

That would do.

***

Rhys had agreed to keep our Prom night simple. No renting out an entire restaurant or going anywhere on a chartered jet – just a quiet dinner and then straight to Prom.

Instead of the usual Range Rover, Rhys had come in a two-seater BMW convertible he had bought for the occasion. Not exactly in the spirit of our agreement, but not technically against it either, as Rhys pointed out, since I had only told him not to rent a limo and never mentioned anything about purchasing a new car. 

He drove us down to Portland for dinner in a restaurant on top of one of the tallest buildings in the city. The food was amazing and the view of the sunset was spectacular. We talked and laughed. Gradually my reluctance faded in the face of such a wonderful evening.

About halfway through dinner, Rhys’ cell phone vibrated. He checked the number and sighed.

“It’s Aata,” he said. “He knows what tonight is and wouldn’t call me unless it was really important. Do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” I said.

He walked out of the main dining area so he wouldn’t disturb the other guests. When he returned five minutes later, his face was grim.

“What happened?”

Rhys sat back down and scooted his chair in. “They found a temperature spike out at the coast. They’re going to check it out.”

“Do we need to go?” I asked.

“No. It’s probably nothing. And if it isn’t, they can take care of it themselves.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. This is your special night and I don’t want anything to ruin it. Besides, it’s probably nothing.”

I heard the words he said, but the expression on his face told a very different story.

***

After dinner, we drove to the hotel where Prom was being held. Amy had been on the committee and was in charge of decorations. Like everything she did, she went as over the top as possible. To enter into the dance, we had to walk through a tunnel of lights. The main ballroom had been covered from floor to ceiling in lights, to look like stars and the moon. Dozens of round tables with lacy white table cloths outlined the dance floor. From the main chandelier, hundreds of strands of lights streamed out across the ceiling.

Before I could finish taking everything in, Amy spotted us and ran over squealing with delight.

“You’re here! I’m so glad you made it!” She stopped and held me at arm’s-length, looking me up and down. “Curse you and your regal good looks! You’re every bit as beautiful as I was afraid you’d be. Now I must destroy you.” She pulled me in and gave me a tight embrace.

“Speaking of beautiful,” I said. “The decorations look almost as good as you.”

Amy gave me a shy smile, and then burst out laughing. “Yeah, they turned out all right, didn’t they?” Before we could talk more, one of the other girls on the decorating committee pulled her away to deal with some emergency. 

The dance floor was packed with kids swaying – with varying degrees of success – to the music. I had never been a great dancer, but I wasn’t bad. Add in my Berserker-enhanced coordination and balance, and I was actually pretty good now. I didn’t know very many moves, but once I’d seen a move done by someone else, I could easily replicate it.

We had only been dancing for a few minutes when Selma Torres came up to me, dragging Mason Cross behind her. She was wearing a lilac dress with spaghetti straps and a ruffled skirt.

“Madison!” she yelled with far too much enthusiasm. If her excessive exuberance hadn’t given her away, I would have been able to tell by the smell that she had been drinking. She let go of Mason’s hand and gave me a big hug. “You look so beautiful!”

“Thanks!” I said. “I love your dress.”

“Thanks! You’re so sweet. We really should hang together more next year,” she said. She hadn’t let go of the hug and was now practically hanging on me.

“Okay,” I said, trying to extract myself from this awkward embrace. “That sounds like a great idea.” I wondered if she would remember this conversation in the morning.

For the next hour, I was assailed by wave after wave of girls telling me how beautiful I looked. It was really strange. Some of them were drunk like Selma and expressed their profound regret that we hadn’t spent more time together. But others were just acquaintances who – under some mysterious Prom-night spell – wanted to compliment me.

Amy came by and danced with us for a bit, but it was extremely awkward. Josh tagged along obediently, but stayed off to the side and wouldn’t meet my eyes. Fortunately, Amy was in a social mood and didn’t stay in any one place for very long.

A couple of times I caught sight of Ginger Johnson’s red hair, but the dance floor was so packed that I never got a good look at her. We hadn’t really spoken since the day she’d told me she would keep my secret. We certainly weren’t friends, but surprisingly she had kept her word, and as an added bonus she hadn’t made my life miserable for the rest of the year.

One of the benefits of being a Berserker was that I could dance for hours without a break. As the night went on, other people started getting sweaty and rumpled, but Rhys and I were as dry as we had been when we started dancing.

But it was getting hot.

My head started pounding, and I felt a little nauseated. Something I had eaten at dinner must not have agreed with me.

“Let’s sit down,” I told Rhys. “I think I need a bit of a break.”

We walked back to the table where we had left our things. My nausea grew, and just a few steps from the chair, I felt shooting pains go through my head. My knees buckled. Fortunately, Rhys caught me before I completely embarrassed myself by collapsing on the floor.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, helping me to a chair.

By this time my head was pounding with a killer headache. It felt like someone was inside my skull banging around with a sledge hammer.

“Head hurts,” was all I managed to get out before I was assaulted by a flood of images.

-
  
Tattooed warriors making grotesque faces.

-
  
A small boy wearing only a pair of dirty shorts.

-
  
A sandy beach under a clear blue sky.

-
  
Snow covered mountains.

-
  
A tiny German village.

-
  
Playing in a soccer match.

-
  
Begging for food on the street.

The pain in my head exploded, my skull feeling as if it had shattered. Heat and nausea rolled over me in thick waves, blocking out everything else as I tried not to throw up. Not here. Not tonight.

A violent vibration shook the room. Screams erupted all around me. I looked up to see people running in all directions, scrambling for the exits.

“Earthquake!” Someone yelled, followed by dozens of less-coherent screams.

Another vibration hit, knocking over the DJ’s speakers, toppling tables, and sending streamers collapsing to the floor.

And then through the distraction of my headache, the nausea, and the pounding walls, I felt a darkness I had only experienced a handful of times before.

A Havoc was near.

I looked up to see Rhys already on his feet, his varé in hand, but not yet unrolled.

By now only a few people were left in the room, which was good because at that moment, the south wall exploded inward, sending brick, wood, and plaster everywhere.

A new wave of nausea and heat flooded over me, and this time I was unable to resist vomiting my dinner all over the floor.

When I looked up, the entire wall was gone. In its place stood Osadyn, surrounded by several dozen Bringers. The Bringers streamed into the room, flowing around Osadyn like a nasty grey tidal wave of slime.

We ‘zerked and pulled out our varés. I flicked mine open and felt the familiar extension of my arm.

My ‘zerking didn’t usually have the same component of rage that the other Berserkers felt, but this time anger flooded through me. Osadyn had attacked my Prom and put my friends in danger.

I rushed to the oncoming Bringers and hacked through two of them with my first slash. I tried a backhand cut at a third, but my dress tangled up my feet, and I had to change direction at the last second or trip.

Ultimately life is about choices, and in that moment I had to choose between my beautiful, perfect dress and staying alive. Which wasn’t much of a choice at all, but it did make me sick to think about what I
had
to do.

The varé sliced through the material easily and in the space of a few heartbeats my dress was significantly shorter. Unfortunately, that was enough of a distraction to allow a Bringer to wrap its arms around me and unhinge its jaws.

I struggled to get free, but two more Bringers joined the first, and my arms were pinned to my side with no leverage to break out.

Desperate, I flung myself forwards, pitching to the ground. The impact dislodged one of the Bringers, giving me enough space to fling my arms apart and escape.

I jumped to my feet, and in three strokes I had cut the Bringers into quickly dissolving piles of goo. There was no time to celebrate or even make witty remarks, so I turned my attention to the next wave of Bringers pouring through the ravaged wall.

I fought my way over to Rhys’ side. We had trained for just such an occasion, and by now each of us knew instinctively what the other was going to do.

Together we swung our varés, killing the Bringers in an elegant – if extremely gruesome – dance. There was a rhythm to it that we both felt, and together we literally cut our way across the dance floor toward Osadyn.

As we approached the Havoc, I felt the temperature around me spiking and my nausea increasing. Dancing may not have taxed our stamina, but between the heat of Osadyn and the exertion of killing all those Bringers, I could feel sweat pouring off of me now.

Osadyn reared on two legs, wildly flailing its front feet. Its long neck whipped around frantically and then stiffened, pointing directly at us.

Immediately I felt a sense of calm and peace surrounding me. Why was I fighting? Everything was going to be all right. It would be much easier to simply sit down and rest.

I rejected this thought as soon as it came. Everything was not going to be all right. We needed to stop Osadyn and do it
now
. 

To my left I saw Rhys slow to a stop, the glow of his ‘zerk starting to flicker. What was going on?