Oblivion (Broken City #3), Page 3

  “And make sure to be careful,” Ryder says, backing away from us.

  “I’m always careful,” Blaise replies with a shake of his head.

  “I know, but you need to be extra careful this time. You have precious cargo.” Ryder gives Blaise a pressing look before turning around and jogging after Reece.

  “Like I don’t know that,” Blaise mutters, seemingly to himself. Then he slips off the bag he’s wearing, unzips it, and turns toward me. “Here. Put the compassbot in this.”

  I do as he instructs, and when the robotic dog begins to stir, I run my fingers along the top of its head, which settles it down, and it curls up into a ball.

  “Hopefully, it’ll stay asleep while we do this,” Blaise zips up the bag and hands it to me. “Put this on, and then hop onto my back.”

  “You’re going to carry me up the cliff?” I ask, securing the bag on my back.

  He nods, opening and flexing his hands. “I’ll make sure to move as fast as possible so you don’t have to worry too much. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.” Okay, maybe a little, but another thing is troubling me. “Will you be okay carrying me?”

  He nods again, his jaw set tight. “I’ll be as okay as I was last time.”

  I want to point out that the last time he carried me down the cliff, he was extremely tense, probably because I was touching him. I didn’t know he didn’t like to be touched at the time.

  “Allura, I’ll be fine,” he insists, as if reading my apprehension. “We need to go now. We don’t want to be here when the Watchers show up.”

  “Okay.” I tie the straps of the bags around my waist, then step up behind Blaise.

  When he squats down in front of me, I climb onto his back, hitch my legs around his waist, and link my arms loosely around his neck. His breathing quickens as he straightens, and I resist the urge to bury my face into his back. As we near the cliff that seems to stretch for miles toward the sky, resisting the urge becomes impossible.

  With my forehead pressed against the back of his head, I summon a breath.

  You’ll be fine. You’ve done this before.

  “Just remember to breathe.” Blaise lines his fingertips against the rock. “I don’t want you passing out.”

  My hold on him tightens as I visualize my body plummeting to the ground and splattering apart. “Yeah, me, either.”

  “I still wouldn’t drop you.” He props his boot onto the nearest lip on the cliff. “But it’d make it a hell of a lot harder to climb up quickly.”

  I try to imagine him carrying me in one arm while scaling the cliff one handed. It doesn’t seem plausible. Then again, Blaise isn’t a normal person. He’s abnormally strong, can push thoughts into people’s minds, and can even enter my mind. So, perhaps he could get me up to the top with only one hand.

  Springing onto his toes, he lifts his other foot up while gripping a rock. Then he stretches out one arm while moving his foot upward toward the next lip. He repeats the movement several times, scaling up the side of the cliff. The higher we go, the more the dry wind picks up, and the air becomes warmer, causing my skin to become slightly agitated. I suck it up and hold on tightly, crossing my fingers we’re getting close.

  Voices start to drift down from above, and I wonder if Reece and Ryder have made it to the top, but I don’t dare lean back to look.

  “We’re almost there,” Blaise reassures me, his lean muscles flexing as he heaves us up to the next short ledge. “Just another minute or so.”

  “I’m fine.” My wobbly voice reveals my lie.

  “You know, if you want, when we get back to the station, I might know a way to help cure you of your fear of heights.” He lets out a grunt as he loses his balance for a split second. Then he quickly recovers, grasping a small ledge. “That is, if you want me to help you.”

  I tighten my arms and legs around him. “Reece thinks you should train me to do what you guys do.”

  “Really?” he asks in shock. “When did he say that?”

  “While you were playing the decoy, before we were captured by the Forsaken. Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “Because I’d be a shitty teacher, and everyone knows it, including Reece.”

  “That’s not what he said. He said you’d be perfect for the job.”

  “And what did Ryder have to say about it?” Amusement laced with mild irritation rings in his tone.

  “Um …” I smash my lips together, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to tell him the truth, either. “He didn’t really have much to say about it.”

  “I doubt that. He always has something to say about everything. I’m sure he said I’d suck at being your teacher.” He stretches his arm upward. “But that’s okay. He’s probably right.”

  “Oh.” I fight back a frown. “You don’t want to teach me, then?”

  He pauses, which wouldn’t be so bad, except we’re dangling off the side of a cliff. “You want me to teach you?”

  “Only if you want to.” I take a shaky breath. “I’d like to learn how to do what you guys do. That is, if they’ll let someone like me help.”

  He still doesn’t budge. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Let what you are affect who you are. If you want to train to become one of us, then train. Don’t worry about what other people might try to not let you do.” He releases an uneven exhale and starts climbing again. “If I listened to what other people said, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

  On this cliff? With Ryder and Reece? Or in this world, alive?

  My heart aches at the last thought. My mind has been in that dark place before.

  I start to ask, but the words die as a stabbing pain pinches the back of my neck.

  “Blaise, I think something stung me.” My words echo around me. “Like a bug, or a bee, or something.”

  “What’s a bee?” He sounds so far away, a fading memory. Quiet. So very quiet. “Allura?”

  “Hmm …?” is all I manage to get out. My limbs feel heavy, like a bag of bricks, and I’m too tired to hold them up anymore—hold myself up anymore. I can hardly stand it.

  I want to let go. Fall. So badly.

  So I do.

  Chapter 3

  The Mysteriously Familiar Stranger

  Flashing lights. Blinding. Music booming. I can barely hear anything. Circles spinning everywhere. Or maybe I’m the one who’s spinning …

  “You like this?” a deep voice whispers in my ear as a solid chest presses against my back. “This is called dancing.”

  “Dancing?” I repeat the foreign word, debating whether I like it. “It doesn’t seem so bad … But I do feel really tired.”

  “That’s not from the dancing,” he whispers, his voice ringing with familiarity. “That’s from the poison.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. At least, I think they do. My body is too numb to tell for sure.

  “Poison is bad,” I slur, my eyelashes fluttering against the colorful lights blinking from the ceiling, the floor—everywhere. So bright. I can’t see anything. Not even the guy behind me. “Where am I …?” I murmur, spinning, spinning, spinning. “And who … are you?”

  “Must we go over this again, Allura.” His lips brush the tip of my ear, his breath fiery hot. “You’ve known me for a very long time.”

  My eyes roll into the back of my head as wooziness overcomes me. “I have?”

  He roughly grips my waist. “You have.”

  My head bobs back and thumps against his chest. “Why can’t I remember?”

  “Because it’s been more than a century since the last time we saw each other.” His fingertips dig into my waist as he draws me against him. “And time has never been kind on your memory. The longer you stay away from me—from us—the more you seem to forget until we remind you again.”

  “Remind me …? How?”

  “We’ve gone over this, too, but I guess I’ll
remind you again.” He glides his hand up the front of my stomach to my neck, gripping the base of my throat. “By killing you. Don’t worry; all horrible, murderous monsters come back from the dead, and then we get to do this whole thing over again.”

  It clicks, like a lightning bolt slamming into my chest.

  “You’re the man from the driveway. The one who wouldn’t shoot my dog.”

  His hold on my neck loosens. “You remember that?”

  I nod, the light blinding me to the point my eyeballs ache. “I do … But that’s not … the only place … I know you from. We’ve met … a lot.” Not that I can remember when or where; I just know I have.

  He grips my neck harder. “Well, then, I guess things are about to change. I just hope you’re prepared to run forever, because once they find out, they won’t stop until they have you. And they can’t have you. Understand? If they do, then everything is ruined. Lives will be destroyed. Worlds.”

  “Who can’t have me?” I gasp, fighting to get free. I can barely move. I can’t control my body. I can’t think, breathe—do anything.

  He nibbles my earlobe. “The Grim.” Then he jerks his hand, snapping my neck.

  The lights fade into nothing as I fall toward the ground.

  And keep falling …

  And falling …

  Chapter 4

  The Kiss of Death

  “Wake up.” Ryder’s worried voice slices through my hazy mind. “Come on, sweetheart; please wake up.”

  I try to do what he asks, but I can’t get my eyelids to lift. It’s as if someone has glued them shut. My entire body is weighted with numbness. Even my heart is nothing but a soft lull, barely existing.

  Am I dead? After all this time … Centuries, if the man from my memories is correct. If he is, though … how can that be right? How could I have lived for that long and barely look eighteen? Then again, the Grim are practically ageless and rarely die.

  God, I must really be a hybrid.

  A murmur of voices flutter through the air, some recognizable, some not. Every single one carries a drop of panic.

  “She’s not waking up.” Alarm rings in Ryder’s tone. “Reece, why isn’t she waking up?”

  “I don’t know,” Reece mutters from close by. “Blaise, what exactly happened to her?”

  “I think a Watcher shot her with something … and then she fell.” The slight tremble in Blaise’s voice throws me off guard.

  He’s worried. Blaise is worried.

  Whatever happened to me must have been bad.

  I search through my disoriented mind and manage to put together a few pieces of what happened. Climbing up a cliff. Something stinging me in the back of the neck. Numbness spreading throughout my body. Falling toward the ground.

  Oh, my God, I fell off the cliff. And now I’m lying here, broken in bits and pieces, only alive because of my ability to heal.

  The mental images that come after the revelation aren’t very pretty and make me want to yack my guts out. I start to choke, my chest heaving as I struggle to breathe.

  “What’s happening?” Ryder asks. “Reece, do something. I think she’s choking.”

  “I can get the defibrillator,” a woman offers. “It might help.”

  “No, her heart’s still beating,” Reece says. “Hold on a second. I have an idea.”

  Seconds tick by, maybe even minutes. Then, slowly my breathing returns to normal.

  “There. She’s breathing again,” Reece states, sounding breathless.

  “Good, now get her to wake up,” a woman with a much lower, harsher voice demands. “We need to get the hell out of here before the Watchers get up the cliffs.”

  “I’m not sure I can wake her up,” Reece tells her. “Not until I know what she was shot with. Give me a minute.”

  “We don’t have a minute,” the woman warns. “We have maybe five minutes tops before they reach the peak, and then we all become Nameless. I hate to say this, but we may need to leave her behind.”

  “Shut up, Mia,” Ryder snaps. “We’re not leaving her. That’s not what we do or what we stand for.”

  “I know that,” she bites back. “But is one Nameless’s life worth all of ours?”

  “Yes,” Blaise responds. “And if you don’t agree with me, then you shouldn’t be at the station. You should live in the city with every other fucking coward in this world.”

  “Blaise, I didn’t mean—”

  “Yeah, you did,” he cuts her off sharply. “So just shut the hell up. Your opinion no longer matters here.”

  The air grows uncomfortably quiet. Then Blaise growls, shattering the silence.

  “Goddammit, this is all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. You stopped her from hitting the bottom. If it wasn’t for you, she’d be …” Ryder releases a loud, stressed breath.

  “But I almost didn’t catch her in time.” Blaise’s voice cracks, and he quickly clears his throat. “I told her I’d get her up safely; that nothing would happen to her. I lied.”

  “What happened was out of your hands,” Reece says as I feel fingers trace along the back of my neck. “Jesus.”

  “What?” Ryder and Blaise ask at the same time.

  Reece’s fingers shake against the back of my neck. “They shot her with the Kiss of Death.”

  The Kiss of Death? That doesn’t sound good.

  Death? Am I dying?

  Is that really a bad thing?

  “Why the hell would they do that?” one of the men asks. “The Watchers usually capture Nameless, not kill them.”

  Again, silence overtakes the air. I wonder if Blaise, Ryder, and Reece are debating telling the rest of them what I am.

  “They probably didn’t know she was Nameless,” Reece utters, his fingers returning to my neck. “They probably think she’s one of us.”

  “Why are they even hunting you?” the woman with the deep voice asks. “And in the fault? I mean, I know Watchers get pissed when one of their prisoners is stolen, but they usually send Trackers after them.”

  “They did send a Tracker,” Ryder explains. “It failed to capture her.”

  “Oh.” The woman pauses. “Still, some of this isn’t making sense. Like, why did they go to this great of length to track a single Nameless down?”

  “You’re not the one we report to, so it doesn’t really matter if it makes sense to you or not,” Ryder says in annoyance. “Seriously, Mia, what’s your problem? I’ve never seen you question someone else’s mission like this.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve never seen the three of you act so protective over a single Nameless,” she quips. “You guys are acting reckless and irrational, risking all of our lives for a dying girl.”

  “I’ve had enough of this shit,” Blaise grumbles. “Move out of my way, Reece.”

  “Why?” Reece questions with reluctance. “What do you plan to do?”

  “I’m going to pick her up, put her on the motorcycle, and get the hell out of here before the damn Watchers make it to the top of the cliffs. Then, when we get back to the station, you can figure out a way to reverse the effects of the poison.”

  “I’m not sure that’s possible, Blaise,” Reece says quietly. “The poison is already attacking her body. She’s still breathing and everything, but probably not for very long. I don’t have a cure for the Kiss of Death. I’d have to create one, and that could take some time—weeks even.”

  “You’ll figure out a way. You always do,” Blaise replies matter-of-factly as I feel hands slip under me. “I’m going to need someone to sit behind her and make sure she doesn’t fall off.”

  “I’ll do it,” Ryder volunteers. “Just make sure to take the bigger bike, or there won’t be enough room.”

  “Blaise … I don’t want to say this, but”—Reece lowers his voice—“even with her rapid healing ability, she might not make it back to the station alive. You know how the Kiss of Death works. It’s potent enough to injure a Grim.”

  “She’ll make it,” Bla
ise hisses as I’m lifted into a pair of arms I hope are his.

  “Blaise,” Reece presses with hesitancy. “You’ve never been a naive person, and I can’t have you turning into one now. I need you to think straight.”

  “I am. She will make it back to the station.” Blaise whispers lowly, “I’ve seen her heal. She’ll make it through this.” He starts to move, carrying me with him, tension rippling through his arms and chest.

  I will my eyes to open, wanting to reassure him that I’m fine so he can calm down. He’s already lost his entire family. I don’t want him to suffer through another death.

  Come on, please open. Open. Open!

  I gasp as my eyelids start to lift. I blink and blink again as the stinging red light reflecting across the sky burns my eyeballs. I don’t care about the pain, though. I only care about the fact that I’m awake.

  I blink up at Blaise, who’s cradling me as he marches across the desert. He doesn’t notice I’ve woken up, determination burning in his eyes as he stares straight ahead. My mouth opens to tell him everything will be okay, that I’m awake, which means I’m going to live, right? But when no sound leaves my lips, my stomach drops. Maybe I’m not as okay as I thought.

  “Do you want to drive or sit on the back?” Ryder appears in my line of sight as he jogs up beside Blaise. His skin is ghostly pale, his eyes crammed with worry, and the hood of his jacket has fallen off his head, leaving his blond hair blowing in the wind. “Honestly, you should probably drive. You’re better at it than me.”

  “I was planning on it.” Blaise comes to a grinding halt and wheels toward Ryder. “Here, take her for a second while I get the engine started.”

  Ryder’s eyes drift to mine as Blaise transfers me into his arm and a crease forms at his brow. “It’s weird how her eyes are open …” He swallows hard as he rests me against his chest. “It’s almost like she’s awake and can hear us, but can’t move.”

  “That’s probably what’s happening,” Blaise tells him. “The Kiss of Death paralyzes first, then slowly begins to deteriorate the body until the victim dies.”