The Violet Awakening (The Elementum Trinity Book 2) (17 page)

I followed the patchy trail of blood back down to the tenth floor, ignoring the choking rasps that initially rang from William’s office. I didn’t know if they’d ceased because I had gotten out of ear-shot, or if they’d ceased because the body they were coming from had finally given up. Whatever the reason, the silence had lifted the smallest bit of weight from the sinking emptiness inside of me.

‘You did the right thing,’
Al’s voice resonated weakly in my mind.

‘I’
ll still be responsible for his death,’
I thought, face emotionless as I closed in on the apartment across from mine. A slightly comforting warmth spread over me at hearing Al’s voice again. If felt like a lifetime since I’d last heard him inside my head.

‘At some point, we will all be responsible for someone’s death. Many don’t realize it, or they ignore it, or deny it. The acknowledgement of your actions will make you stronger, and you will need that strength for what is to come.’

‘What is to come?’
I thought, but I was met by foggy, mossy eyes as I rounded the door before Al could answer.

Lakin gazed at me for a long moment, looking me over, searching for an answer to his unasked question. Nadia’s blood was beginning to dry on his hands and arms, cracking in red-brown paths that led to nowhere.

“You didn’t do it,” he finally whispered, raising a blood-stained hand to my cheek before embracing me in a relieved hug.

“Would you think less of me if I had?” I asked, replaying William’s words in my head.

“No,” he said, furrowing his brows as he pushed back to look at my face, “but you would have thought less of yourself.”

Lakin’s words of insight took me a bit by surprise. I suddenly felt very guilty for having thought there wasn’t anything special about him. He had asked me to stop harming William, not because he cared for the monster’s life, and not because it would skew his feelings for me, but because he didn’t want me to blame myself. The guilt would have inevitably grown so dense—and maybe it still would—that I wouldn’t have been able to stand it. Lakin didn’t want me to put myself through that. Leaning my forehead against his, a warm tear ran down my cheek as I remembered how much I loved him even before we had bonded; before we knew that we were stuck with each other, whether we wanted it or not. And I was so thankful tha
t we did want it. I was so thankful that he wanted me.

I didn’t know how they had managed to wake Al up, but he was leaning weakly against the wall, holding a hushed conversation with Lily as they consistently glanced in Joseph’s direction. Lakin had laid Nadia’s body on the table where we’d found Al, and her brother hovered over her, staring down at her still face.

Joseph had already lost one of his fathers, and he had left the other one behind. Now, he’d lost the sister he would never get to meet, which could only weigh on the hollowness we all felt. A weight so crushing, it held down the emotion one might expect to see from a person in that particular situation. His face was as stiff and rigid as the day he had walked away from his home.

“We have to go,” Lily spoke rapidly. I only caught the tail end of the white light emanating from her eyes. “The guards will be returning, soon.”

Jason, Mattie, and Patrick, who had been sitting awkwardly on the sofa, rose to their feet, prepared to hide us from view as we made our way back to the van.

“What about her?” Jason asked softly, nodding toward Nadia.

“We’re taking her with us,” Joseph said sternly, lifting the body into his arms, Nadia’s head dangling limply over his shoulder.

Lily nodded comfortingly, and we slowly started our trek upward. I didn’t want to think that
it would be the last time I’d see The Facility. Not because I hoped I would return, but because every time I had thought that in the past, I had been regretfully and horribly mistaken. I gave up on hoping everything would go smoothly. In fact, after losing one of our own, I began to expect nothing more than a perilous end.

Lily and I helped support Al, making the stairs seem incredibly similar to Mount Everest.
My knees buckled for a moment under the weight, but Lakin was quick to grab my arm. I smiled at him, hoping he wouldn’t noticed the tears that were building as we passed the third floor. Nobody looked in William’s office, but from the corner of my eye I could see the old man’s body still tied up in the chair, head hanging down over his chest.

Lakin squeezed his hand around mine, and pulled. I hadn’t even realized that I’d come to a full stop, staring at the wall ahead as Lily and Al waited by my side. William had told me I was starting a war. As I gazed at the faces around me, I hoped that he was referring to a metaphorical war inside myself. The thought of subjecting those
I loved to more pain twisted my insides until it was almost unbearable.

As we reached the darkness of the top floor, a sliver of light beaming in from the door overhead, we paired up with Jason, Mattie, and Patrick for our trip to the van. Joseph didn’t even seem to notice Mattie’s hand on his shoulder as he carried his sister’s body. He followed us, staring blankly ahead, jaw twitching as the feelings tried to force their way out.

“Aren’t we going to give Abigail the keys?” Al asked, after we’d parked the van at the old woman’s house and began our
hike back to the Eden.

Lily stopped in her tracks, closing her eyes tightly before responding. “She’s gone.”

Al opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something, but he held his silence as Lily continued to lead us along our path. She must have been much closer to Abigail than I’d realized.

The pond to our left had begun to thaw, tiny pools of water gleaming along the surface in the dwindling sunlight. We remained sheltered from view, but the forest appeared to be clear of guards. I already knew Eric had run off to tell them of what happened inside The Facility. With their leader being dead, I wondered who they would turn to. Maybe they would forfeit their fight against us.

The walk along the dark tunnel seemed longer than ever before. Each stride toward the light of the Eden was one step closer to my brother’s searing pain. I couldn’t protect him from the hurt he was about to feel—no one could. And, sure enough, as we emerged from our stone surroundings, Bryant waited on the steps of Lily’s house, head in his hands, as Lyla rested her head on his shoulder. I didn’t need to have Al’s gift to know what he was thinking, hoping. Every soul in the Eden knew that we had lost someone. And the only thought running through
Bryant’s mind was:
‘Not Nadia.’

Bodies were cluttered al
ong the path between the houses; talking, crying, mourning the loss of someone they didn’t even know. All of our kind walked toward us, blocking out the view of my brother as we made our way to meet them. Joseph protectively hugged Nadia’s body against his own, as the hands of weeping strangers reached for her.

“It’s okay,” Lily whispered in Joseph’s ear.

One-by-one, our kind rested their hands on Nadia’s body. As each person stepped away, a fading white print was left in that place their hand had been.

“What—” I began quietly.

“They’re paying their respects,” Al said, still propping himself up on my side. “We’ve never lost an Elementum from a human body. They’re dealing with it in the only way they know how.”

Though I didn’t understand the ritual,
only a fool would have been incapable of admiring the peculiar beauty. It was so moving that it cracked Joseph’s hard exterior just enough to let a few tears leak through. By the time Lyla and Bryant had made their way through the crowd, Nadia’s entire body was glowing a dim white. The light reflected in my brother’s eyes, intertwining with his sorrow.

Bodies circled around, until only my generation was left in the middle. They gave us enough space that we didn’t feel crowded, but it didn’t even come close to being alone, which we all wished we could have been at that time.

Joseph gently lowered Nadia’s body to the ground, and we watched with pain stabbing at the hollowness inside, as Bryant collapsed over her. He brushed a strand of hair from her face as he whispered words that were only meant for her to hear. Joseph clung to Lyla, sobbing, breaking down in a way that I could have never imagined from him. Lakin and I stood with hands clasped tightly, as if letting go of each other would have meant letting go of life.

Bryant finally looked up at us, eyes red and puffy. No words came from his mouth, but he was asking, begging, not to be alone. We all lowered ourselves around him, embracing him, crying with him, wishing we could take the pain away.

When it felt like our tears had run out, all eyes fell on Nadia. The glowing handprints had faded, but the distortion of the sunset through our melting sky illuminated her in a way that made her seem like she was not of the Earth. A warmth in my hand inspired me to place a palm on her arm. The others followed, and within moments, she was glowing again, brighter than ever, as if the light of life itself were emanating from within her.

An orb of pure white
slowly rose from her lips, and I recognized it immediately. I had seen many of the orbs flicker and fade in Lily’s memory of our kind’s massacre. The orb rose high above us, then, without warning, shattered outward into a thousand tiny pieces, glimmering and falling all around the mystified faces that watched it.

When I finally lowered my eyes back to the ground, Nadia’s body was gone, replaced by a diminishing cloud of glowing ash.

We all sat on the cool floor of Al’s house, huddled around Bryant in a comforting circle. Sarah sat awkwardly on the sofa, staring at us with tears in her eyes as she fidgeted with her fingernails. She was not one of us; she couldn’t feel the consuming, crushing void of Nadia’s death. But she had lost her entire family. Perhaps she didn’t feel exactly what we were feeling, but she understood. I waved her over, and welcomed her into our circle, where she placed a hand on Bryant’s back and her head on my shoulder.

There were no words, which seemed to be a trend when any of us experienced loss, and especially when all of us experienced the same loss. Nearly everyone in the Eden mourned, in their own way. They’d all felt it in the very moment Nadia was taken from us. It had been so long since an Elementum passed. They were all reminded of a time when our kind populated, and cared for, the earth; a time before The Destructive Ones. They were all reminded of the day we had lost so many. But there were no words. And none were needed.

“What will this mean for our generation cycle?” Cora whispered in the kitchen.

“Hush, Cora. Now is not the time,” Lily said, eyeing our group to see if anyone had noticed.

“We rely
on our cycle for survival.” Cora ignored Lily’s words, voice rising with panic.

“Seriously, shut up,” Gabe whispered.

I could feel my fingertips getting hot as my blood boiled. Fury crept through my veins like molten rock, stabbing and scorching as it traveled.

“This could be the end of us!” she continued, nearly shouting.

“How dare you?” I said, eyes burning with tears as I looked up from the faces of my generation. “You are feeling the same thing that is inside every single body in the Eden, right now. You feel this loss. You feel this grief. How dare you be so insensitive?”

Cora stared at me, bewildered by my outburst. Finally, as my words sunk in, her eyes went glossy with rage.

“Do you not understand the severity of the situation? I’m sorry you lost your friend, but this could mean the end of our entire existence!”

“That is enough,
Corina
,” Lily said in her disturbingly-calm, motherly tone.

Waves of heat emanated from my palms, charring the floor beneath me.

“Since when do the Oracles play favorites,
Lilith
?” Cora said, words oozing with malice. “You are so taken with these outsiders that you’ll ignore the words of your own generation?”

“They’
re not outsiders. They’re our own kind, and they deserve the same care and protection as anyone else in the Eden.” Gabe bounded to our defense, Reagan nodding in agreement behind him.

“And these are not the words of our generation. These are your words. And I am ordering you to silence them,” Lily said, eyes nearly glowing as her voice boomed.

Cora’s mouth fell agape. She huffed something that looked like it was meant to be a laugh, before turning to make her way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Al asked protectively, grabbing her by the arm.

“You’re no better than she is,” she said, nodding toward Lily. “You’ve devoted your life to finding this generation, and you’ve nearly lost it on more than one account. You would put Angie before your own blood. And for what?”

“Cora, Angie’s generation will—” Al began.

“Will what?
Save us all
?” Cora mocked. “Based on what, exactly? The words of a crazy old man? A couple of rocks? None of us have ever made a difference. We will never be able to change the people who infect this planet. But it doesn’t matter, now. We won’t even be around to try.”

Nixon, who had been silently standing by the entire time, followed Cora through the door.

“Nixon,” Reagan called out, “you can’t honestly agree with her.”

Nixon stopped in his tracks, giving his sister a regretful look. “I don’t know. But I’m not leaving her. I’m sure you understand…”

Reagan was stunned into silence, gazing after her brother with hurt betrayal as he closed the door behind himself.

Cora’s shouts rang throughout the Eden. Her voice wa
sn’t entirely audible from inside the house, but bits and pieces of her speech permeated the walls. ‘Leaving,’ and ‘Welcome to join,’ stuck out the most.

“Angie,” Lakin warned, nodding at my hands.

The floor all around me had blackened, and the heat continued to swell from my palms. I took a shaky, panicky breath as my stone burned against my chest. I couldn’t stop. I closed my eyes as tightly as possible, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze, unsure if it would have the same explosive effect now that I was an Oracle.

‘Angie,’
Al’s voice whispered in my mind.
‘You can control this. You are strong. You are so strong.’

I sighed as a hot tear ran down my cheek. I willed the fire into the void of sorrow, and bravely opened my eyes at the touch of a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey,” Bryant said with a teary smile, staring directly into my eyes. “You got this?”

I nodded and sniffled, smiling back at my brother as the heat dissolved fro
m my palms and chest. My brother, who would never feel the bond that was known by the rest of his kind. My brother, who lost far more than the rest of us. My brother, who was soothing his panicking sister because she couldn’t control her anger.

Uncertain of what was fueling my actions, I reached down for the purple crystal and removed it from my neck. Bryant would never have his own stone, and there I was with two when I only needed one. If he could never have his own, at least he could have our mother’s. He shook his head slightly in protest, but eventually bowed after I had glared at him long enough.

Al nodded a brief smile at me before I curled up into a more horizontal position, head resting on Lakin’s lap as my brother observed his new accessory. Lyla and Joseph held each other, while Sarah’s hand remained firmly on Bryant’s shoulder. Silent tears continued to warm my cheeks as I touched the resonating warmth of the floor I had charred.

“I’m sorry about your floor,” I whispered, unsure if Lily could even hear me through the sleep that thickened my voice.

“It’s okay, Angie. Floors are insignificant in the grand scheme of things,” Lily called from the kitchen, the tea kettle clinking against the stove.

“Nothing is insignificant,” I mumbled. The thought came from somewhere I didn’t recognize within my mind
—somewhere new.

I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to see the Room without Nadia. I had already done so once before, and the thought of returning to that place, knowing I would never see her again, sent an ache into my heart. Would her seat still be there? Or would the Room sense that she had been taken from us, and remove the yellow chair to spare us the pain? I wasn’t ready to find out.

Through one final attempt to take in the faces around me before I faded off into sleep, I forced my eyelids open. Through the tear-blurred vision, my gaze vaguely focused on something I had forgotten about.

“Lily?” I mumbled, barely mustering up the energy to move my lips.

“Yes?”

“Where did that trashcan come from?”

“It was a gift. From an old friend.”