Wings (A Black City Novel) (12 page)

“Ace!” Elijah exclaims.

The boys rush toward each other and Acelot roughly picks Elijah up, giving him a tight squeeze, before letting go.

“It’s so good to see you, brother,” Acelot says.

“You too,” Elijah says, looking about. “Is Marcel here?”

The smile slips from Acelot’s lips.

“What is it?” Elijah says.

Acelot looks at the blood and dirt on his hands. “Sebastian stabbed him. He’s . . .” Acelot takes a deep breath, clearly trying to hold back his tears. “Marc didn’t make it.”

Elijah looks down, his jaw clenched. His lashes become slick with tears.

“Is Ash okay?” I ask, panic rising in me.

Acelot nods, ushering us inside the warehouse.

Ash is crouched on the ground, beside a mound of rocks and dirt. Like Acelot, he’s covered in dust and blood. A small makeshift cross sticks out of the rocks. I’m guessing Marcel is buried underneath them. Ash suddenly stiffens, pressing a hand to his chest. He whips around. Our eyes meet. Ash blinks once, twice, like he can’t believe it.

“Natalie . . .”

“Hey,” I say softly. “I got your message.”

He sprints over to me, crossing the gap in a few strides, and pulls me into his arms. His lips crush against mine. The kiss is deep, desperate, exquisite, sending little shivers of electricity racing through my veins and into my yearning heart. I run my hands through his rippling hair, which coils and twists around my fingers, while his hands press into my back, drawing me closer. His scent wraps around me: bonfires, musk and rain.
Home.
Ash gently breaks the kiss. His sparkling eyes search mine as his thumb caresses my cheek.

“I thought I might never see you again,” he says huskily. “Where have you been?”

“Gallium,” I say. “We’ve got so much to tell you.”

“How did you find us?” Ash asks.

I place my hand against his chest. “How do you think?”

“Hey, bro,” Beetle says behind us.

Ash looks up. A wide smile breaks out on his lips, revealing his gleaming fangs. I step aside and the boys quickly embrace. Day stands awkwardly nearby. She’s never managed to form a friendship with Ash, but they tolerate each other.

Elijah goes over to the pile of rocks while I introduce Destiny to Ash and Acelot. We join Elijah at Marcel’s grave, and Acelot performs a short but beautiful remembrance service. I glance at Ash, who gives a faint nod of his head, understanding the unspoken question in my eyes, before I slide my fingers through Elijah’s. He clings to my hand as tears slide down his cheeks. It’s the first time he’s cried since leaving Viridis, his grief finally overwhelming him. I doubt the tears are just for Marcel, but for everyone he’s lost these past few weeks. I don’t know how he’s holding it together.

At the end of the service we each place a trinket on Marcel’s grave, as is tradition in Bastet culture. We have to do with whatever’s close to hand. Ash leaves his cigarette lighter, while I pluck a dandelion head from the ground and place it carefully on top of one of the rocks. A soft breeze stirs the seeds, scattering them into the air.

The funeral over, Ash grabs his blue duffel bag, which is stained with Marcel’s blood, and we return to Destiny’s Transporter in the north end of the town. Elijah hangs toward the back of the group. Ash kisses my hand, then walks over to him.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Not really,” Elijah says. “Marc and I hated each other, but I never wanted him to die. He was my brother.”

Ash places a hand on Elijah’s shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. They walk in silence for a few paces.

“Thank you for going after Natalie when Garrick took her,” Ash says.

Elijah shrugs. “It was no big deal.”

“Yeah, actually, it was,” Ash replies. “You could’ve been killed, but you went anyway.”

Elijah gives a faint smile. “I figured I owed you after that whole double-crossing-you-and-nearly-getting-you-both-shot thing in Viridis.”

Ash chuckles lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. This makes us even. We good?” Ash holds out his hand. Elijah hesitates for a second, then takes it.

“We’re good,” Elijah says.

On our way back to the Transporter, we catch up on everything that’s been going on. Ash holds my hand the whole time, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear again if he lets it go. His jaw clenches when I tell him about the Sentry rebel base in Gallium, their planned assault on Centrum, and my parents’ involvement with my “kidnapping.”

“
They
took you away from me?” he asks quietly. “Why?”

“They were worried about my safety. This country is in chaos and they just wanted to protect me in their misguided, controlling way. I’m all they have left, Ash.” I lower my lashes. “Plus, they think you’re a dangerous influence on me.” I look up in time to catch the hurt flashing across his face. “They just don’t know you like I do.”

He smiles a little. “So they’re going to attack Centrum, huh?”

I nod. “In five days’ time. The rebel compound is really impressive, Ash—you should see all the weapons they have. Guns, grenades, missiles, a whole
fleet
of Transporters. We could never have dreamed of anything like it.”

“We were doing okay,” Beetle mutters beside me.

“I’m not trying to diminish what we’ve done,” I reply. “I’m just saying they have a lot more weapons than we do. We’re lucky to have the Sentry rebels.”

“So what’s Humans for Unity’s role in the attack?” Ash asks.

Beetle shrugs. “Like they’d tell us anything, bro. But my guess, we don’t have one.”

Ash and Beetle share a knowing look, and my cheeks warm up. Why do I suddenly feel like the girl from months ago, stuck in the middle between Humans for Unity and the Sentry?

“Sigur’s safe,” Day says, quickly changing the subject.

I briefly fill him in on the details, and the tension in Ash’s body evaporates.

“Thank God,” he murmurs.

“And Natalie’s been getting treatment for the Wrath,” Elijah adds as we approach the Transporter, parked in the abandoned lot.

Ash’s head snaps up, his black eyes sparkling with hope.

I pull out the syringe case from my jacket pocket. “I’m not cured, but Dr. Craven said my prognosis was good. I just have to take these every day.”

Ash pulls me toward him and gently cups my face, planting feather-light kisses over my cheeks, lips and eyelids, making my skin tingle wherever his lips have brushed against me. He smiles, showing a hint of fang. “I guess I owe your parents a thank-you. Never thought I’d be saying that.”

“How about you guys?” Day asks.

“We’ve worked out where Aunt Lucinda and the others have gone,” Ash says.

“Where?” Elijah says.

“Mount Alba,” Ash says. “I worked it out when I saw this tapestry at the Bastet embassy, which showed Mount Alba
before
it erupted, and guess what? It had this talon-shaped peak.”

“The Claw!” I say, catching on.

He nods. “Not only was it the right shape, but it’s next to Amber Hills—”

“Wait, isn’t that where your mother and aunt grew up?” I ask, remembering Ash telling me this a few weeks ago on the train to the Barren Lands.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I think Mount Alba’s where they’ve hidden the Ora. It all fits.”

“But Mount Alba’s in the Tenth,” Day says.

“That explains why I haven’t heard from my mom in weeks,” Elijah mutters. “They must have caught her.”

“How will we ever find them?” Day says. “The place is enormous.”

“If it’s anything like the camp at the Barren Lands, they’ll have a registration office with a list of all the prisoners,” I say. “It should tell us which barracks they’ve been sent to.”

“Whoa, you guys aren’t seriously talking about going into the
Tenth,
are you?” Destiny says.

“Yes, of course,” I say. “We have to rescue Elijah’s mother.”

“And my aunt Lucinda and Kieran,” Ash adds. “I’m not leaving them there.”

“But you don’t even know for certain they’re in the Tenth,” Destiny says.

“We’ll check the registers. If they’re not listed, then we’ll leave,” I say. “The registration offices will be near the entrance gates. We won’t even have to venture too far into the camp.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to allow this,” Destiny says.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission, Des,” I reply firmly. “We’re going in, with or without your help. If you want to leave, I understand.”

She laughs. “Yeah right, kiddo! I’m already in big trouble with your parents as it is; what do you think they’ll do to me if I go back to Gallium without you? They’d
shoot
me, that’s what.” She sighs and slides off her chunky black military watch, passing it to me. “This has a GPS tracking chip in it. I’ll be able to follow your location on the monitor in the Transporter. When you’ve got what you need, press this button.” She points to a small red button on the side of the watch. “And I’ll pick you up.”

I hug her. “Thanks, Destiny.”

She lets out a heavy sigh, muttering, “I never liked being a soldier anyway.”

“So, any suggestions how we get inside the Tenth?” Day says.

“Yeah, the same way as everyone else,” Ash says. “We take the train.”

THE TENTH

ASH

W
E WAIT UNTIL NIGHTFALL
before beginning our preparations to head to the Tenth. Beetle and Day are sitting on the Transporter’s floor, legs crossed, as they clean their guns in silence. Their movements are in sync, their expressions hard and focused—the look of a soldier about to go into battle. Day’s tied her long black hair back into a practical braid, revealing the caramel skin on her neck. There’s a thin scar on it, like a bullet’s grazed her. How close have they both come to dying these past few weeks? Beetle, sensing me looking, smirks.

“Bro, I know I’m pretty, but enough with the googly eyes, okay?”

I laugh. “Someone has a big opinion of himself.”

On the bench beside them, Elijah and Acelot talk quietly. Acelot has a reassuring hand on Elijah’s shoulder, but he’s clearly struggling to hold back his own tears. Elijah nods occasionally, his gaze focused on the gold bands around his wrists.

Acelot glances down at the wristbands. “Why are you wearing those? Dad’s gone. You’re not a slave anymore.”

Elijah shrugs. “Technically, I am. I serve the Consul. That’s you now . . .”

“You know, I always thought we had too many servants.” Acelot slides one of the bands off Elijah’s arm and slips it over his own wrist. He grins and the brothers hug. I turn away and head to the cockpit.

Natalie’s got her back to me as she peers at the monitor on the control panel. The Sentry soldier, Destiny, is in the pilot’s seat beside her.

“Is that me?” Natalie says, playing with the GPS watch on her wrist.

“It sure is, hon,” Destiny replies. “Remember, just hit the red button on the side of the watch when you want me to come and pick you up.”

I slip my arms around Natalie’s waist, and she lets out a little gasp of delight.

“Do you mind if I steal my fiancée for a minute?”

I lead Natalie into the hull of the aircraft. She leans against the metal wall and hooks her fingers through my belt loops, drawing me near. For a second I forget what I was going to say. I always feel intoxicated around her. She peers up at me. There’s still a faint tinge of yellow in the corners of her eyes—a symptom of the Wrath. I can’t believe I didn’t notice the signs when she first got ill, when it was literally staring me in the face. The thought of her having the Wrath makes the breath freeze in my lungs, my heart stand still. She may be getting treatment, but she’s still sick.

“Everything okay?” she says.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “You don’t need to come to the Tenth with me, blondie. It’s dangerous. There’s a very good chance we’ll get killed.”

Natalie half smiles, a cheeky twinkle in her eye. “Since when has that ever stopped me?”

“That’s true,” I say. “It’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

Her fingers play with my belt loop. “Yeah? What are the others?”

I hold her closer to me. “Mmm, let me see. You’re kind, and brave, and smart, and you hate being told what to do.” She blushes slightly. “But most of all, I love this teeny-tiny freckle right here,” I say, pointing to the freckle on the side of her throat.

She giggles as I dip my head and lightly kiss her neck. Her pulse flutters under my lips and my poison sacs flood with venom. She sighs as I gently nip her skin, careful not to break the surface. Day coughs dramatically behind us, and we pull apart. Natalie’s cheeks are flushed; I’m sure mine are too. I turn to look at the others. Beetle and Day are standing nearby, the small spotlights in the ceiling casting polka dots of white light on their skin. They tuck their newly cleaned guns into their hip holsters. Behind them, Elijah is tying up his bootlace, while Acelot blows his nose on his monogrammed handkerchief. Destiny is still in the cockpit, her hand on her weapon as she peers out of the windscreen for any signs of trouble.

“If any of you want to back out, now’s the time to do it,” I say.

Beetle chuckles. “Someone needs to watch your back, mate.”

“And someone has to watch
his,
” Day says. He gives her a lopsided grin.

Elijah stands up. “I’m not staying here when my mom’s in the Tenth. She needs me.”

I look at Acelot. “I always like an adventure,” he says.

“Thanks, guys.” It’s risky having all of us going, but I’m grateful for their support.

We gather our weapons and sling on our hooded jackets. Natalie slips her heart medication and black syringe case into one of her pockets. I watch her admiringly. Despite being sick, she still wants to fight. When we’re ready, Destiny opens the hatch and we step off the Transporter. The night air is cool and stars shimmer overhead. Natalie takes my hand and nervously looks up at me. I kiss her cheek.

“Let’s go,” I say.

• • •

The station is eerily silent as we creep through the terminal, which is lit only by the pale moonlight streaming through the arched windows. I lead the way as we sneak down the iron stairwell that goes to platform six.

The platform is dark, apart from a few pools of amber light cast by the oil lanterns hanging from a wire overhead. The shadows offer plenty of cover. A train is parked on the rails farther down the platform, the boxcars packed with prisoners instead of livestock. Their hands poke out of the slats in the wood as they beg for water. Toward the far end of the train, a group of Sentry guards load dozens of white bags onto one of the carriages. Printed on the bags is
GRAY WOLF LAUNDERETT
ES.
We quickly duck under the stairwell, before the guards see us.

“We need to get onto that laundry carriage,” I whisper.

“How are we going to get on there without being spotted?” Natalie replies.

It’ll be hard to sneak onto the train now without being seen, since the train is too far away from us and there are no people on the platform to blend in with.

“We’ll have to jump on when it passes by us,” I say.

Day looks worriedly at Beetle, but he just squeezes her hand.

We linger in the shadows, waiting for our moment. When the guards have loaded all the laundry bags onto the train, they trudge up the stairwell at the other end of the platform. Only the stationmaster is left behind. He blows his whistle and the train starts up. Steam billows out of the chimney spout and I expect the stationmaster to leave, but instead he takes out a packet of smokes and sparks up. The train jerks forward and the prisoners all begin to scream.

“He’s not going,” Natalie says under her breath.

I stare at the guard.
Leave!
I urge.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette, wisps of white smoke spiraling into the air. The train starts to trundle down the tracks toward us, picking up speed.

“What do we do?” Natalie says.

Just go!
I scream inside my head.

The carriages start whooshing by us, stirring my hair. The prisoners’ cries become a blur of noise as the train gets faster, faster. The laundry carriage is almost upon us.

Finally, the stationmaster heads into his office.

“Now,” I say.

I dash across the platform and leap at the moving train, grabbing hold of the wooden slats. My body slams against the side of the train, and I grunt with pain as I heave myself onto the roof of the carriage. Cold air buffets against me, but I manage to keep my balance. Natalie sprints toward the train and I lean over, grasp her hand and haul her up. She falls into my arms. The carriage rocks wildly and we slide across the roof, but I manage to seize the handle of the escape hatch before we fall over the side and get dragged under the train. I pull us upright just as Acelot and Elijah gracefully leap onto the roof. They don’t seem to have any trouble keeping their balance, but their tails must help with that, and they quickly help Day and Beetle up onto the roof.

I open up the escape hatch and we drop inside the laundry carriage, our falls broken by the soft mounds of material. Elijah’s the last into the carriage, and he shuts the hatch after him. I rummage around the laundry bags, pulling out the clothes. A lot of them are red-and-white-striped overalls, which must be for the new prisoners. I tear open another bag and let out a triumphant cry. The bag is filled with Sentry guard uniforms. I toss five uniforms at the others.

“Put these on,” I say.

The girls go to the other end of the carriage and hide behind a wall of laundry bags as they get undressed. The guys strip down without any embarrassment, although Beetle struggles to put on his pants on the rocking train, hopping comically about on one leg. I change as quickly as possible, ignoring Acelot as he stares at the burns on my upper body. The girls return a minute later, wearing their black uniforms. The disguises aren’t foolproof, but it’ll still be night when we arrive at the camp, so people shouldn’t get a good look at our faces. We settle down among the bags of laundry, and I wrap my arms around Natalie while Day snuggles against Beetle.

Elijah looks warily up at the hatch. “There aren’t any Wraths around here, are there?”

The last time we were on a train together, traveling through the Barren Lands, three Wraths—Darklings turned feral because of the deadly C18 Wrath virus—entered the carriage through the escape hatch in the roof and started attacking everyone.

“Only me,” Natalie says, smiling slightly.

Elijah winces. “Sorry.”

“I thought I heard a crow, though,” I tease, remembering he has a morbid fear of birds, recalling how freaked out he was during that same train ride, when something flashed past the window and he thought it was a condor.

“What? Where?” Elijah says, eyes wide with panic.

I smirk.

He frowns. “That’s not funny.”

Acelot chuckles. “It’s a
little
funny, brother.”

The laughter quickly dies down as our nerves mount. The only sound is the cold wind whipping through the ventilation slats in the carriage walls. Natalie nudges in closer to me, shivering slightly. I tighten my arms around her.

I don’t know how long we’re on the train—it feels like hours, but probably wasn’t more than forty minutes—before there’s a screech of brakes and the train decelerates. I get up and peer through the slats in the wall. All I can see is a long concrete wall, similar to the one in Black City, but this one seems to stretch on for eternity. Written on the wall in big black letters are the words
HIS MIGHTY
SEES ALL SINNERS
. There’s a chorus of screams from the other carriages as the train grinds to a halt.

We’re here.

Outside the train is a cacophony of noise: the bark of dogs, the pounding of feet, the chaotic sound of Sentry guards shouting orders at each other. Floodlights from nearby watchtowers illuminate the train, but everywhere else is pitch black. If we can get away from the train without being caught, we should be able to walk around undetected.

The guards yank open the train doors and the prisoners literally spill out, the carts are so crammed. Hundreds of Darklings, humans and Bastets all topple to the dirt floor while others stumble over them, not wanting to get shot for lingering in the carriage too long. Everyone looks confused and terrified as they cling to each other.

A young woman with auburn hair falls heavily to the ground. She’s dressed in a yellow folk dress, and in her arms is a small boy with curly black hair. He can’t be more than two years old. They remind me a lot of Giselle and Lucas, the two Dacians we met in Thrace. Guilt rips through me at the memory of Giselle, the girl I accidentally shot when trying to kill a Lupine named Jared. Based on their appearance, the woman and her son must be Dacians too. I’m not surprised to see them here: the Dacian people are on Purian Rose’s list of Impurities, along with the Darklings, Bastets and any other human deemed a race traitor.

“Get up!” a female Sentry guard with black hair shouts, pointing her gun at the young Dacian woman cradling the boy.

The woman is too scared to move, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “Please, there’s been a mistake. He’s just a boy, a
baby.
He shouldn’t be here.”

The guard pulls the trigger once, twice, killing them. I slam my back against the carriage wall, briefly shutting my eyes as the scent of their blood stings my nostrils.

“Everyone grab a laundry bag,” I say.

They each pick up a white bag while I peer between the slats in the carriage door. The prisoners are being arranged into two rows: the young and healthy are being put into the first row, and the sick, injured and old are being put into the second row. I can only presume half of them will be going to Primus-Two to work in the factories and the rest will be sent to Primus-Three, where they will be experimented on and exterminated. Now is our best chance to get out before the guards start unloading the laundry carriage and find us.

I quietly slide our carriage door open, then pick up a bag of laundry, lifting it onto my shoulder so that it hides part of my face. I step out of the carriage, my pulse racing, and the others follow. We casually head toward the main gates, passing the black-haired female guard.

“Hey, you,” she says.

Ice floods my veins. “Yeah?” I grunt behind the laundry bag.

“Bring those bags
into
the warehouse, okay?” she says. “Don’t just dump them outside in the mud like last time.”