Read Descendant Online

Authors: Nichole Giles

Descendant (34 page)

The temperature drops steadily, but I don’t want to stop and put on my coat for fear I’ll lose sight of the target. After a while, the light stops moving. I focus on it and keep going.

A cough echoes nearby and I turn to Eric, confused. “Did you just cough?”

“No. I assumed it was you.”

Miraculously, my ring comes to life, giving off a soft glow, and then I know.

“What did you do?” Eric grabs my wrist and stares.

I snatch my hand away but can’t help smiling. Can it really be the power of true love? “It’s Kye. He’s close.”

Another cough. I try to pinpoint the source, but the echo makes it hard to tell where the sound is coming from. “There must be a door somewhere. Help me look.” With the aid of my ring, Eric and I search for an opening in the wall. At one point, I trip over what feels like a large root sticking out of the floor, and look down to find that a number of cords and wires have been run along the ground.
What the what?
There was a dim light in my vision of Kye. It could have been artificial. I follow the wires to see where they lead, what they do, until the glowing fades. “Too far.”

We start on the other side, and the ring throws a bright flash in my eyes as I pass a thin crevice. It’s only a crack, barely large enough for a slim person to squeeze through. “Kye?” I shove my arm in ahead of me. No response, so I shimmy forward, only to be stopped by my boots, which are too wide for the opening. “Kye?”

Still no response, but my ring is getting warmer. I kick the boots off and hand my coat to Eric. “I’m going in.”

Eric grips my shoulders. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if it’s a trap?”

I remove his hands, one at a time. “Of course it’s a trap. This whole thing is a trap. But I have to try.”

Eric’s arms drop, his bleak expression hard to read in the dark. “Your suicide.”

My feet are now agile enough to slide through the narrow bottom. Claustrophobia closes in on me and my heart gallops with panic. But then Kye coughs again, and I scoot farther until my hand reaches empty air. Every inch of exposed skin scrapes against the rough stone as I drag myself through, and the hem of my dress catches on something sharp, ripping a gash across the bottom.

The ring shines bright now, illuminating a dark lump in the corner. I fall on my knees. “Kye.”

The lump doesn’t move, so I shake him gently. “Kye? Wake up.” Tears burn my eyes and dread curls in my stomach as I lift a corner of the fabric. He coughs again and relief trickles in, but is short-lived.

He’s in bad shape. His shirt is stained red in numerous places, though I can’t tell where he’s bleeding. His face is bruised, swollen, sticky with dried blood, and he’s cradling his arm. It’s hard to tell where else he’s hurt, since he’s curled his legs toward his stomach. “What have they done to you?” I swallow a sob. Crying won’t help him. With no other option, I run my hands over his body, trying to focus enough to assess his injuries.

My fingers ripple in the energy near his head and face. He’s suffered several blows. His shoulder is dislocated, possibly broken. Two—no, three—injured ribs on the right, four on the left. His left ankle or foot is damaged. Possibly a torn ligament or a bad sprain. There’s something else, something big I can’t identify, though I know it’s important.

I run my fingers over him again, this time spinning his core chakra, asking it to tell me what’s wrong. A strong metallic taste burns in my throat when I close my eyes and listen to Kye’s energy. Chemical. Something chemical. No, not chemical, mineral. Wrong. Very wrong. Poisonous and wrong. Nickel. Nickel arsenide.

My eyes fly open and I jerk my hand away from Kye’s limp form and aim the light at the wall. Shimmering silver reflects back at me and I turn to another wall, and then the next in the oddly shaped room. All the same metallic hue. The mineral’s gritty taste trickles down my throat, gagging me with its strength. “Oh no,” I groan. “No, no, no. Nickeline.” A poisonous room. A prison that will slowly kill the occupants.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Heartache

Another
  turn around the room reveals a chain attached to a low-wattage light, which I switch on, realizing as I do that there really is no way out besides the fissure through which I came. I know there has to be another exit. Though I hate to touch the nickeline, I squeeze between the rocks again. “Eric. I need your help.” He doesn’t answer.

“Eric.” I wrench free. “Eric?” Eric isn’t there. He’s gone, along with my boots and coat. He must have wandered away.

Or.

Or he’s been caught and is now being held hostage and tortured—or worse—by Juri’s henchmen. The sob I swallowed a minute ago climbs back up my throat, but I pull myself together.
I’ll get Kye to safety, and then find Eric.

I remove the blanket covering Kye and realize it’s actually an old fashioned cloak. He jerks, moaning in pain when I move his injured shoulder, and a tear slides down my cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Another tear falls as I caress his bruises and kiss his forehead. “Kye, I’m here. I don’t think I can Heal you now—not with the amount of poison in this room—but I’ll try to help you wake up.” My heart aches because I know this will be painful for him. For both of us.

Since the poison has likely spread throughout his body, I start with his blood. By placing my ring on his stomach between the second and third chakras, it becomes my Healing crystal, and I spin both
areas, one with each hand. My throat is scratchy as I hum the tones of blood Healing, but my voice grows stronger until the energy lifts from Kye and funnels into me. I only let it linger briefly before coaxing it around and sending it back, only partially mended. I can’t pass out. Not this time.

Kye’s eyelids flutter and he groans. My vision blurs, but I manage to fight through it, pushing hard against the metallic taste in my saliva. “Hey, you,” I say into his ear. “Wake up now. Time to go.”

“Abby.” His eyes pop open and swollen lips make his smile crooked. “Am I dead then?”

I shake my head and another tear drips on his filthy shirt as I return the ring to my finger. “I hope not, because we’re a long way from heaven.”

He tries to move and whimpers. “I must be alive because I hurt everywhere.”

“I know.” I cover my face, try to regain some composure. “You’re injured pretty badly, Kye.” My fingers stray to his face, trace invisible lines from his forehead to his cheeks. “But it’s important that we get out of here. Do you remember how you got in?”

He lifts his head, squinting. “There was a door.”

“A door?”

“Yeah, a sliding door.”

Sliding?
“Electric or manual?”

Kye’s head drops again, like he doesn’t have the strength to hold it up. “’Lectric, I think.” His speech slurs.

I touch his face again. “Stay with me. We need to move. You have to try walking.”

“’Kay.” His head lolls to one side. “You gonna help me?”

“Yep.” I stand, inspecting the walls for the hidden door. “As soon as I find the door.”

“Can’t,” he says. “Locked.”

I inspect every dent and crevice. “Then we’ll find a way to unlock it.” There are wires on the ceiling, but I couldn’t even hope to reach them, and there are so many there is no way to tell where they go or what they do. It seems like hours pass. I’m about to make Kye try to squeeze through the gap when one of the walls slides open.

My stomach squeezes so tightly with fear that if I had eaten in
the last twenty-four hours, it would all be coming up about now. Shaking, I cower closer to Kye.

“So, the lovers are reunited.” Juri looms in the open door. Behind him, I can see a brightly lit, fully furnished office. There’s even a plush rug on the ground.
Why would anyone bother bringing office furniture into a cave?

Kye levels himself against the wall, clasping my hand.

There are a lot of things running through my mind, but one look at Juri’s ugly brown suit and all I can think is that it’s the one he wore the first day I ever saw him, before I moved to Jackson or met Kye or inherited Gram’s ring. Before I knew anything about Theron or Raina or the Arawn Keys or curses or wicked traitors. Before he dragged me down the alley in New York and stabbed me with a knife carved from his own bones. The brown man. Everything about him round.

Waves of boiling anger burn until I finally understand the meaning of true hatred.

“Aw, the princess is angry.” He clucks his tongue, seeming to read my thoughts. “Even after I allowed you a moment of private time together before you both die.”

“Leave her alone,” Kye croaks.

Juri’s smile is nearly as wide as his entire round face. “Oh no. No, no, no. See, Boone and I were just discussing how excited we were for her arrival. And look! Here she is. No, this calls for a celebration. Let’s party, shall we?”

“I said leave her alone.” Kye trembles, but his voice is stronger and he pushes himself up the wall until he’s on his feet.

“No thanks,” I tell Juri. The metal in my throat makes my voice sound hollow, rough.

“What was that?” Another shadow looms in the doorway. It’s Boone. “No? Did I just hear you tell him no?”

I reach down inside, to my very core, and try to bring up all usable energy, preparing to fling it at the both of them, but something heavy weighs it down.

Juri scowls. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t said that. I’ll leave you with some beautiful scars before this is over.” His teeth gleam in the light as he draws the jeweled dagger from his belt.

“We could take her powers now,” Boone says. “A few slices, transfer of blood, cut off her finger to take the ring—done.”

I tuck my fingers into fists and hide my hands by folding my arms.

Juri licks his lips. “Tynan needs her alive. Do whatever you want to her, as long as her heart keeps beating.”

Boone grins. “Whatever I want?”

A feral gleam lights Juri’s eyes. “Whatever we want.”

Kye looks ill as he slides his arm around my waist, whispering, “I hope you have a plan.”

“Nope. Totally winging it.”

The men advance on us, their expressions reminding me of cavemen who want to throw me over their shoulders and haul me into their respective caves for ravishing. Except we’re already in a cave, so they’re ahead on that count.

“Don’t let them cut you with that dagger,” Kye murmurs, still unsteady on his feet. Boone moves out of the doorway, letting the light flood the small cell, bathing us in a warm yellow glow. The path to our salvation.

A flash of metal catches my eye as Boone draws a gun out of his waistband—black and sleek with a large barrel and big, deadly bullets.

“Leave her alone. Please.” Kye’s hand trembles on my waist. “She shouldn’t be here. This is my fault.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My mistake. Of course. We’ll just send her home to Mommy.” Juri clucks. “After that stunt in New York, I think Tynan will want to see what she can do under pressure.”

“I’d rather die than help the Dark Prince,” I say.

Juri nods at Boone.

Boone aims the gun at Kye’s chest, his finger caressing the trigger. “Bye bye, animal boy. You know, I’ve enjoyed chasing you around the country for the last few years. I can honestly say I’m going to miss you.”

“Wait!” I shout. “Don’t. Please don’t. What do you want me to do?”

“Abby, no.” Kye leans against me. “You can’t.”

I wrap my arms around him. We’re both trembling with fear. “I have to.”

“Ah, isn’t that sweet.” Juri grabs my wrist and yanks me away from Kye. “Let’s go.” Then he says to Boone, “Shoot him.”

“No!” I scream. Juri flings me onto the plush office carpet and the door slides closed behind us. I fight, kicking and screaming and hitting with my free hand until he pins me on a decorative metal chair. He wrenches off his tie and uses it to bind me, then forces the ring off my finger. His eyes rake over me, stopping to linger in certain places long enough to make my stomach churn. Finally he says, “Too bad Tynan’s in a hurry. It’s really too bad.” He inspects the ring then pounds on the wall. “I got it!” Then he disappears into the black corridor, leaving me alone.

I try to stand, but my arms are bent at an awkward angle, and maneuvering my body away from the chair feels literally impossible. My fingers pick and work the knot, pull and tug the silk, but it doesn’t loosen. I scoot the chair toward the large mahogany desk hoping to find something with which to cut my bindings and have managed to make it halfway when a gunshot echoes through the caves.

THIRTY-NINE

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