Read Resistance Online

Authors: Allana Kephart,Melissa Simmons

Tags: #romance, #Action, #Dark Fantasy, #resistance, #faeries, #Dystopian, #New adult, #allana kephart, #dolan prophecies series, #melissa simmons

Resistance (32 page)

Fi’s hand is shaking in mine, and when I look at her
I see her eyes are fluttering. The only color left on her face is
her freckles, which stand prominently against her pale cheeks. I
lean over and whisper, “Breathe, love,” in her ear and she pulls in
a giant gasp; licking her lips before looking at me with wet
eyes.

Seamus moves off the counter and takes a few steps
toward the windows, shaking his head. He’s got a light green hue
taking him over. Eirnin doesn’t look any better. He’s covering his
face with one of his hands and trying to breathe like Fi.

“You mean…” Fi speaks up suddenly. “He’s there right
now? Alive and well, and we…I left him there?”

Lumi’s eyes grow wide and she starts shaking her
head. “No!” she says loudly. “No, Fi, you didn’t know.” She looks
horrified, and for a moment I think she’ll jump up and hug Fi.
“There’s nothing we could have done — he’s in the lowest levels of
the dungeon, in complete isolation. There’s no way we could’ve
snuck him out without getting caught.”

Fi tries to smile at her but it’s obvious she can’t
make it happen. I move the hand she’s not clutching to the back of
her neck and rub small circles against the top of her spine.

“It’s not your fault,” Lu says as if reading Fi’s
thoughts, and when Fi opens her mouth to respond, the back door
swings open and slams against the wall beside it.

“You are such a stupid bitch!” Sean bellows; storming
in and leaning over Lu in her chair. She shrinks back, eyes wide
and focused on the long, ugly scar forming on the taller man’s
face. “How dare you open your mouth and give them false hope? Who
the hell do you think you are?”

“Hey—” I start when he reaches forward to grab her
neck, but before I can even get out of my seat, Eirnin is up and
grabbing Sean’s shirt and throwing him back.

“Piss off, you coward!” Eirnin snaps, looking
downright terrifying. Seamus moves to Lumi’s side and has her stand
behind him, looking at the boys with complete boredom. “You went at
her with a knife? She’s little! And she’s Fae; she can’t lie!”

“She’s a damn monster, punk ass brat,” Sean says;
stepping toward Eir and getting in his space. “You’re just like
your sister, defending some sparkly whore—”

Eirnin swings the second the word falls out of his
mouth, and Sean’s head snaps back when a fist connects solidly with
his nose. Lumi and Fi both make duplicate sounds of shock, and Fi
tries to get over and break them up.

“Sean!” Fi shouts angrily, but I push her back down
in her chair and stand up. Sean lifts a hand to swing back at Eir
and is met with a wall of flames. Eir scrambles backwards and looks
at me and I flick my hand to slam the fire into Sean and knock him
on his ass before making it dissipate in a large puff of smoke.
Sean curses and hacks, one hand covering his bleeding nose, the
other swung over his face to hide from the heat. I shake my head
and look at Eir, who is looking at me with something between
confusion and amazement. “You’re scaring Lumi,” I tell him calmly.
“Go sit down before something gets broken over this asshole’s
head.”

Eir nods silently and immediately goes back to Lumi,
who smacks his arm and takes his hand, making sure he didn’t hurt
himself. You’d think they’d known each other for years with the way
they interact.

“You’re a dead man!” Sean hacks at me, rolling onto
his front. Even though he looks like a pile of road kill, Lumi
still flinches at his voice.

“Please give me a reason to roast you alive, man,” I
reply with a half-laugh and take a step toward him. “Just open your
mouth one more time.”

“Get him out of here, please,” Fi says to Seamus,
sounding eerily calm. She comes up behind me and waits until Sean
is hefted to his feet. “You are no longer allowed in this house. If
I see you anywhere near here, I swear I will exile you. Now get
out.”

Sean stares at her and shakes his head—I’m surprised
to realize he almost looks hurt. He shrugs Seamus off of him and
runs out of the building, and I poke Fi’s side. She squirms a
little and looks up at me. “Thank you.”

I shrug, but smile at her nonetheless.

“You’re shaking,” I hear Eirnin say to Lumi, who
shakes her head at him.

“I’m fine,” she insists. “Just…I don’t like him.”

“I’m so sorry he did that to you,” Fi says to her
with a deep frown. She seems very put together, and again I want to
wrap her in my arms and tell her to stop shutting down on us. “I
have no excuses for him.”

“It’s perfectly okay, Fianna. You had nothing to do
with it,” Lu says.

“I think we all need to turn in for the night,”
Seamus finally speaks up. “It’s been a long, stressful evening, and
a nice rest is exactly what we need. We can discuss Patrick further
in the morning.”

Even Fi nods in agreement at that. Eirnin is glued to
Lumi’s side and tells Seamus he will take watch for the night, as
he probably won’t be able to get to sleep. I tug on Fi’s elbow
before she can intervene and lead her down the hallway, back to her
room. She doesn’t fight me much, and then digs her fingers into her
eyes and shakes her head. “I just can’t believe him.”

“Maybe he sat on a tack a few months ago and just
hasn’t been able to get it out of his ass yet,” I offer, trying to
raise her spirits. She snorts and gives me a look; pushing my
shoulder a bit. “Shut up, Flint,” she says, but she’s smiling at
least.

I smirk at her. “You have a good night, okay?”

“I’ll try,” she says. “I’m gonna read for a bit.”

“Good.” I smile at her. “I’ll see you in the morning.
Don’t stay up too late.” And with that, I leave her to her own
devices.

 

 

It’s sadly early in the morning, somewhere around two
a.m., when I am awakened by a bloodcurdling scream in the next room
over. It reverberates off the walls and echoes through the halls
and ventilation, but no one comes pounding down the hall to see
what’s going on. Instantly assuming the worst, I kick the sheets
off my legs and do my best not to land on my face as I jump out of
the bed and toward the sound of the yelps — on the other side of
Fi’s door.

In the split second I’m considering what to do, I
realize I don’t look very frightening in a pair of black boxer
shorts and nothing else, but I can’t bring myself to give a shit
with the violent noises coming out of her room. I feel my hands
start to spark as I shoulder through the door and when I lift them,
I pause.

The room is empty. A soft breeze rustles the blinds
by the open window, and if you don’t look at the bed the room is
quite peaceful. A worn paperback copy of The Third Victim by Lisa
Gardner is flipped open on the floor, thrown by the thrashing girl
in the bed. Her eyes are screwed shut and she’s tangled horribly in
the sheets, which only increases her panic as the thin fabric
restricts her movements.

“Fi?” I try quietly first; moving over to the side of
the bed and catching her flying fists in my hands, having no desire
to get my nose broken. Her eyes snap open at the contact but she
stares past me, still trapped in a nightmare.

“I’m sorry,” she’s saying to the ceiling in a broken
sob. “I’m sorry, Daddy…I’m so sorry.”

I mutter a small curse and get on the bed; pinning
her flailing body against the mattress and yelling her name. Her
back arches off the bed, she lets out a horrified shriek and I grab
her face to make her head stop banging around. “Damn it, Fi, look
at me!”

She freezes suddenly, seeing me over her, and she
pulls in a loud breath. “Flint?” she pants, confusion overwhelming
her features.

I let out a relieved sigh and push her hair off her
face gently, watching as she struggles to take in a steady puff of
air. She has the same desperate expression on her face as when she
was sprawled on the kitchen floor, and I want to find a paper bag
and make her breathe into it for a moment. “You were having a
nightmare,” I tell her quietly, leaving my fingers in her hair
while she stares at me, looking lost.

She starts shaking her head and her breath hitches a
few times, and then she hides her face behind her hands. “I’m sorry
I woke you,” she says shakily, her face completely hidden. “You can
go now, I’m fine.”

Frowning, I wrap my hands around her wrists and pull
them down. She’s pale and her eyes are closed, and if I weren’t so
close I wouldn’t even notice her eyelashes are damp. “Fi…”

She is stuttering around air and she pulls away from
me again, sitting up and pulling in huge, ragged gasps, her hands
covering her face. I sit there for a moment, hoping she’ll get her
lungs under control, with my hand on her ankle. “Easy…”

“I…” She stops, knowing I’m not going to listen to
assurances that she’s okay. Her hands slowly fall away and she
meets my eyes, revealing just how bloodshot they really are.

“You can cry, you know,” I tell her, and she presses
her lips in a tight line. “It’s okay.”

She shakes her head and a small sound breaks past her
lips. She clamps her hand over her mouth to try and tamp it back
down, but the dam is broken and she breaks down in nearly silent
sobs. I move closer and wrap my arms around her. I faintly feel her
nails dig into my back as she hangs onto my shoulders for dear
life.

I don’t know how long I sit there holding her, and I
honestly don’t care. Eventually she quiets into small hiccups, but
instead of pulling away she just gets heavier in my hold. I shift
her a bit and lie down, and she immediately pillows her head on my
chest and curls close. She won’t let me see her face, and I have to
wonder if it’s because she’s embarrassed for breaking down in front
of me.

Soon enough her sniffles turn to deep, even breathing
and I know she’s fallen back asleep. Part of me thinks I should
leave her be, but something in the back of my head nags me not to.
Instead, when she rolls over, I turn on my side and lay my arm
around her waist. I bury my face in her hair and close my eyes;
trying to block out the images replaying in my head and the
heartbreaking sound of her in tears, and eventually, I fall asleep
with her.

 

 

 

Chapter 22—Fi

August 2102

 

When I open my eyes I’m surprised to see actual
sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. I blink a few times
in astonishment, because I never sleep this late. Don’t get me
wrong, there’s still no way it’s later than seven, but I’m normally
up before the sun. Images from last night come rushing in — waking
up from that horrible dream, Flint leaning over me with worry plain
on his face, and my consequent breakdown. I realize now why I’ve
slept so soundly. Flint’s body has become a protective armor around
mine in sleep, and his arm anchors me firmly against his chest. One
of his ankles is hooked over the top of one of mine, and my body is
pressed snugly into his. I feel the rise and fall of his every
inhalation against my back, and I cannot remember when I have ever
felt so safe before, or wanted to leave my bed less.

A contented sigh escapes my mouth and I contemplate
trying to fall back to sleep. I’m comfortable enough certainly, but
I have always been an early riser and I feel the day waiting for me
now. Instead, I shift ever so slightly and try to ease my body out
from under Flint’s arm. There’s no need to wake him now. I feel bad
enough that I woke him last night with my nightmare. Suddenly his
hand opens, his fingers spread wide over my ribcage and then go
limp again, and I’m lost in thoughts of what would happen if I
rolled over and pressed my lips to his instead of sneaking out of
bed like a thief. It’s as if our encounter in the library opened
floodgates of awareness inside me, and suddenly I’m noticing every
touch, every glance between us, and they’re setting me on fire from
the inside out.

It isn’t merely physical, either. At first I thought
maybe it was just attraction, but it goes so much deeper than that.
He offers comfort before I realize I need it, and he helps me
before I can even ask. He sees me for who I am, not what I try to
show the world. I don’t know when or how this happened, but Flint
has become necessary for my happiness. I can’t imagine my life
without him in it now, and the thought of having to makes me cold
all the way to my bones. Part of me knows I need to tell him how I
feel, but I don’t know if maybe I already missed my chance. I
realize now might not be the best time to be thinking about this,
seeing as how I’m spooned firmly into his lean form on my bed. Not
feeling so rational right now. Nope.

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