Storm Born Page 26

  “And suppose you did succeed in passing them. You are in the middle of a forest, miles away from any residence or aid station. You will be exhausted and alone in the dark, easy prey for the wolves and other beasts that still roam freely. You strike me as an intelligent young woman, Ava. Do not prove me wrong.”

  I figured my situation would be bad, but obviously didn’t think about every possible worst case scenario. I wanted to lift my chin and tell Mortis that he was wrong, that I was strong enough to face all of those obstacles and find my way back to the people who cared about me.

  But I wasn’t a liar, and my luck had never been that good.

  Seeming to sense my defeat, Mortis stretched his back and peered down at me. “You must be hungry.”

  He stepped to the side and extended his arm, like a gracious host welcoming me to his home. I didn’t want to move an inch, but his gaze was turning into a sharp glare. Ferno watched me from across the flames, blindly taking a paper plate and filling it with fried meat. My stomach groaned and I wrapped my arms around my middle to hide the sound.

  I raced through the reality of my situation again. I could defy the Mistrals to show them that I wouldn’t give into any demands and that I trusted them about as far as I could throw them… Or I could swallow my pride, regain my strength, and think of a way to sabotage them so I could escape, or at least send a signal to the Precips.

  Dropping my chin, I trudged into the clearing and sat on the dirt floor. I drew my knees into my chest but didn’t take the plate when Ferno handed it to me. He grunted with impatience and set it on the floor, returning to the fire to dish out more food for him and his leader.

  I pulled the plate toward me and looked at it. Four thick strips of bacon sat next to roughly chopped potatoes and fried corn that probably came from a can. Ferno didn’t look like much of a cook, and I didn’t want to think about where the “fresh” bacon actually came from, so I cast all doubts and unease aside and dug into the food.

  It was blazingly hot and seared my tongue, and it wasn’t really classy to eat with my bare hands, but I didn’t care. It was fuel, and I knew that the Mistrals could care less about my manners. I was their weapon. The toy they created to wind up and set loose on a path of destruction.

  Eating became difficult with that thought racking through my brain and Mortis slowly sitting next to me.

  His eyes never left my face as I nibbled my food.

  “Do you feel well?” he asked.

  “Do you care?” I shot back before I could think.

  He paused for a beat, then said, “This statement may come as a surprise to you, Ava, but yes, I have great concern for your well-being. You displayed an impressive amount of power out there on the highway. That kind of power comes with a cost.”

  Didn’t I know it.

  “I’m breathing. That’s all you need, right?”

  “True,” he admitted. “Though your compliance would make this much easier.”

  I stopped eating and looked at Mortis. He wasn’t eating, the tempest-blade resting on his lap like a warning.

  “For what?” I asked. “What are you going to do to me now that I’m… wherever we are.”

  Mortis smiled thinly. “You are in the Florida Caverns, three hundred and fifty miles from Sanford.”

  I froze, the gravity of that sinking into my brain like a shard of glass pushed into putty. The Florida Caverns. Three hundred and fifty miles. I might as well have been in the tunnels under Hong Kong.

  “As for what we intend to do to you,” Mortis said, dragging me into reality with the cold promise in his voice. “I offer my word that you will be part of something great.”

  “I’ll pass,” I whispered.

  Mortis smiled at me like I was an impatient child he had to scold. “Even if it means you will be at the forefront of a renewed dynasty? A veritable goddess?”

  Only Mortis could make becoming a goddess sound like something terrifying. “Still gonna pass. You can take these powers back. I don’t want them.” How many times was I going to have to say that until someone got the picture?

  Mortis’s fake smile slipped. He slowly reached for his belt and withdrew a knife with a quick, violent tug. I jumped and shuffled back. Ferno’s rough hand clamped on the back of my neck and clenched, making it clear that I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Mortis flipped the knife in his hand. I stared at the crystal blade of the dagger, my chest burning as the ghostly memories of a violent, bloody punch and scorching agony swam through my mind. My body went stiff, on the precipice of trembling.

  He twisted the knife between his fingers, letting the smooth crystal absorb the light from the fire and shining it in my eyes.

  “Has Vitae told you my story?” he asked, never moving his eyes from mine.

  I nodded, unable to look at anything except the dagger that had been the cause of my agony. The dagger that could also mean the end of it.

  Though I wasn’t holding my breath.

  “She did not see how we were being dishonored. That the Primordials we loved were allowing their torture at the hands of your kind. Sonus was even less open-minded than his protégé. They could not see that change was needed to save the world that belongs to us. And make no mistake, Ava. It is ours. We existed before the human race was even a thought. We fight to keep the earth whole beneath our feet, to ensure that natural order is respected and preserved. We lingered in the shadows and in the clouds, keeping you alive century after century.”

  He lowered the dagger, but his knuckles were white where they wrapped around the hilt.

  “And we are repaid by watching your kind poison the clouds. Ripping trees from their roots. Defiling the soil. Treating the oceans like your garbage dumps.” Cold, black eyes drilled into me, betraying the calm in his voice. “Tell me how we are supposed to condone that, Ava. Tell me why we should.”

  I didn’t, because I couldn’t. I knew humans were corrupting the earth. Everyone knew it. But the problem was there was only so much to be done. I couldn’t speak for the major corporations who cut down trees to help build my house. I couldn’t stop oil companies from drilling for gasoline that would help mothers and fathers drive to work to support their families. I couldn’t stop the use of pesticides on farms. It wasn’t my fault when a heavy wind blew a candy wrapper from my hand and into the ocean, dragging it miles out to sea where I couldn’t reach it.

  Thousands of generations and billions of people were the cause of earth’s decay. That was the simple– and complex– truth of the matter. We endured by using what was around us. It was how we knew to survive. Maybe it was the wrong way of looking at the world, but it wouldn’t change the facts.

  Facts that Mortis would never listen to, no matter how calm he appeared to be.

  “Then why did you make me? What am I supposed to be?” The questions came out as whispers, nearly drowned by the fire spitting at my right.

  He was quiet for a very, very long time. Then he said, “As I told you once before, you are the first of many. A new generation of beings. We cannot remake the Stormkind. Only the Primordials have that capability, and they sacrificed themselves to feed the earth you violate.” He made no effort to hide his contempt for the human race, and I was too scared to stop him.

  “In my exile, I was forced to contemplate the nature of our predicament. It was clear that the Stormkind are the most effective weapon against your kind, but left unchecked and untamed, they are too wild for even Guardians to control. As powerful as we are on our own, we cannot commit the sort of cleansing required to eliminate humanity from the equation.”

  Mortis lifted the crystal dagger in his hands. “But if one were able to gather energy from tether and tempest-blades, and lock them into a concealable weapon, to release them all into a human body, there would be no need for the dying breed. The Stormkind are becoming obsolete. Humans on the other hand,” the coldness of his grin made me shudder, “well, you produce an extraordinary number of offspring. I knew that with a little ef
fort, and a reasonable amount of theft, it would be possible for my experiment to work.

  “At first, there were failures. The bodies I chose could not withstand the immersion process. They Enervated too quickly, or died from the pain. I thought I was choosing insufficient specimens, but it was simply a matter of luck. Then it became a matter of control. Am I safe to assume that you have found yourself consumed at times? You have been using your gifts in the presence of another being, and have suddenly been compelled to devour them at any cost?”

  I shuddered without warning, recalling the way I attacked Hadrian, Piper and Austin, the rush of desire, the desperation. I dragged my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

  “As I thought,” Mortis continued smugly. “Yet another symptom of the process, I fear. Each successful specimen displayed more traits of a Stormkind the more life force they absorbed. I worry that Declan will enter the final stage of his alteration soon.”

  My head snapped up. “Declan’s been eating people’s life forces?! He’s becoming a Stormkind?”

  “Yes,” Mortis said with that smug, patient smile. “A vexing one, if I may be blunt. He is consumed by proving his worth, to be accepted now that he has lost his human family.”

  I cringed a little. I had no idea Declan had lost his family in the Centennial. It didn’t excuse his actions, but it made me feel a little sorrier for him. I wondered if there was a way to appeal to his humanity– if he had any left– and let him know he could rebuild, the way we were all supposed to.

  Then I thought about his hands abusing my body, and decided that reasoning wasn’t a very good idea as far as Declan was concerned.

  “If I am continuing to be honest, I do not know why I chose you. Perhaps it was because you were there. Perhaps I saw your endurance in the hurricane and the flood. Perhaps I just wanted to see what would happen. In any case, I am grateful that we crossed paths, Ava. With you, I will achieve more than I ever dreamed. You have saved your kind from certain extinction–”

  Every word coming from his mouth poisoned me. They made my body quake, my blood boil, and my eyes see red. As he spoke, I thought about the pain I had suffered. My missing family, the screams of my best friend and the girl I could have killed. I thought about the burdens and struggles of the Precips, the heartache in Hadrian’s eyes when I realized how much I meant to him.

  The nightmares, the pain, the confusion, the burden, the fear, the lack of control…

  All of it welled together into a savage void inside me as this man– no, this heartless monster– told me he was grateful for everything he put me through. Like I had earned it.

  Like I should be thanking him.

  That was the last straw. The last goddamn fucking straw.

  I launched up from where I sat on the ground and slammed into Mortis. I didn’t even think about the blades he was holding. I didn’t stop to care. All that mattered were my hands around his throat, the pressure I applied to his neck, the power I could draw out to crush him–

  A heavy thud smashed into the back of my skull. Stars erupted in my vision. The world pitched as I collapsed. I blinked my blurred eyes, straining to figure out what the swirling shapes above me were supposed to be.

  Dirt skidded up the sides of my chin and tunneled into my mouth. I thrashed and reached to dislodge them, then felt clumps of dirt wrap around my arms, legs, hips and chest. They tightened into rough ropes, pinning me into the ground. I closed my eyes and twisted my aching head from side to side, but the dirt kept filling my mouth. Smothering me.

  It stuck in between my teeth and coated my gums, clustered around my tongue, clogged my throat. The dirt swelled in there, becoming a painful lump that I couldn’t swallow. My lungs burned and my heart thumped wildly, snared by panic. I couldn’t die this way. I couldn’t, I couldn’t–

  “Release her, Ferno.”

  With agonizing slowness, the dirt bonds unwound from me and the dirt was pulled from my mouth. I rolled onto my side and gagged, dry heaving to choke the wretched taste from my mouth. I hacked until my lungs and throat burned, though I could still taste the rough, salty dirt on my tongue.

  “Are you finished with your little rebellion?” Mortis asked blandly.

  I wanted to growl. I wanted to cry. I wanted Piper to stand up for me, for Hadrian to hold me and tell me he would keep me safe.

  I wanted things I couldn’t do and wouldn’t have, because no one was coming to save me. If they were, they would be coming far too late.

  So I said nothing.

  “I will take that as a yes.”

  Rough fingers scraped along my scalp and clutched my hair. I gasped and swallowed lingering dirt as Mortis dragged me to my feet. He whirled me around and jerked my hair back. I winced at the spike of pain.

  “I have been kind to you, Ava. Hospitable. I am offering you a chance at glory and honor. I do not appreciate my gift being thrown back in my face.”

  “Then take them back yourself,” I hissed. “Take that damn knife and reverse what you did.”

  Mortis tilted his head. His smile was wicked and sharp, like a knife glinting before it split open tender skin. “Is that what you were hoping for? Another little cut to recall the powers of a Stormkind?”

  Mortis released my hair and shoved me hard. I lost my footing and would have landed on my ass if Ferno hadn’t grabbed my arms in his thick, vice-like hands.

  The leader of the Mistrals plucked the crystal dagger from the ground and approached me, spinning the weapon in quick, flashing circles. I twisted and struggled in Ferno’s grasp, but I couldn’t move. Unlike Declan, I doubted I would be able to tear free of him with cheap shots and dirty defense tricks.

  “Tell me, Wild One. Why would I want to take back the powers of my greatest creation? Why would I want a failsafe that left her alive in case she thought to resist me?”

  He reached for the collar of my shirt and tugged it down far enough to reveal my scar. The white skin forever marked with the twisted sigils of the Mistrals and the Precips. Mortis pressed the tip of the dagger to the ruined flesh. I swear he could feel my pulse hammering through the blade.

  “I suppose I could try again,” Mortis offered icily. “After all, you are my anomaly. I could attempt taking your gifts back by slicing into you again, and then dispose of you in a permanent fashion.”

  He pressed the knife deeper into my skin. I gasped at the hot sting that burst from my chest. I glanced down, watching a small stream of blood oozing around the crystal blade.

  “Hmm,” grunted Mortis. “It does not appear to be working. Should I try harder?”

  The dagger sank deeper. The pain swept across my chest like wildfire, though the burn wasn’t the same, crushing agony I’d felt when he stabbed me the first time.

  But that wasn’t a comfort. Because if Mortis pushed the blade any deeper, he was going to kill me.

  “You cannot erase what you have become, Ava. You are no longer human. You will be a revitalized Stormkind until the day you die. And as troubling as you have become, I will not kill you.”

  Mortis withdrew the crystal dagger from my chest. My legs wobbled and nearly gave way. Ferno jerked me upright. His leader drew closer.

  “Make no mistake, Wild One. You will do as I command you. The consequences of failure will be worse than death.”

  I didn’t see how. He’d already tortured me into creation. Unless Hadrian could feel the tether from three hundred and fifty miles away, no one was coming for me. At this point, there was nothing I could use.

  I felt no shame when I looked into his eyes, scowled, and gave him a bitter, “Fuck you.”

  Mortis stared at me, blinking only once. I could sense the barely controlled rage beyond his eyes. See it in the way he clenched the hilt of the dagger. He wanted to hurt me. He wanted me to be his perfect little monster, capable of genocide so he could take revenge for the Primordials he worshipped.

  Guess he didn’t think his little pet project would be so insufferably human.


  “Perhaps we should allow her to see the incentive,” rasped Ferno.

  The way he said incentive made my stomach roll.

  “Perhaps you are correct, Ferno.”

  “Perhaps you should stop saying perhaps,” I snapped, still feeling my confidence on the rise. “It’s getting really annoying. Besides, there’s nothing you can do to me to make me help you.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ,” Mortis countered. “You see, Declan knows what you value. He may have failed me as a new Stormkind, but he has his uses. He and Turve have likely returned with their prizes. I believe it is time for you to see them.”

  Mortis stalked past me and walked out of the cavern. Ferno released one of my arms and whirled me around, dragging me behind him. I had to all but run to keep pace with him. I glanced left and right as we stormed down the corridor, but didn’t spot any exits or turn-offs. If there was a way to escape, I couldn’t see it.

  That being said, it didn’t take us long to reach the end of the tunnel. Cool night air washed over my face. The smell of pine swirled around me. I glanced up and saw scattered stars gathering near a full moon split in half by slashes of clouds. I would have found it to be hauntingly beautiful, if not for the terror and confusion warring inside my head.

  Ferno stopped abruptly and grabbed both of my arms again. He practically lifted me off the ground when he whirled me in front of him. Planted on my feet again, he crushed my biceps and forced me to look ahead.

  As soon as I saw what was before me, I knew Mortis was right. There was no chance I would defy him. Not with this kind of weapon.

  My family on their knees, with terror in their eyes and blades to their throats.

  I sagged in Ferno’s grip. Even he couldn’t hold me up this time. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks as I looked at their faces in turn.

  I’d allowed myself to fantasize about what would happen if I ever saw them again. Of feeling my father’s strong arms when he hugged me. My mother stroking my hair and telling me how proud she was. James tugging my hand and smiling when he wanted to show me something.

  I hadn’t imagined the bruises on my father’s face, the cut on my mother’s lip, or the tears lining James’s cheeks.