Chapter 14
Ivy
Onyx City is beautiful. The dark faces of the buildings glint in the waning sunlight. They are so tall and imposing. I tilt my head to look up, the tops disappearing like pinpoints in the sky. I've seen cities of course, but there's something altogether different about this one—a heartbeat pushing chaos through its veins. There are so many people, so many cars, and as I ride on the back of Atlas's motorcycle with all his brothers around us, it's hard not to be aware of how strange this is.
I'm riding on the back of a motorcycle clinging to a man who claims I am his… part of a race of sereph who protect the world from monsters. My initial incredulity was born from a life lived just trying to survive, immune from the excess of anything beyond what Momma, Hazel, and I could glean to make our world a little safer, a little more comfortable. The thought that this exists is hard to fathom. Yet, I've seen it with my own eyes now. I've experienced the monsters. I've experienced the raw power pulsing beneath my skin in Atlas's proximity. I've felt that hunger for him. I have seen his wings, have lost the horrible voices, and conversed with him in my mind. There isn't room for incredulity any longer.
I've only known Atlas for three days, and yet I feel like I've lived a brand-new life.
But what do I want now that I can't go backward?
Casting the incredible sex aside, what do I have with Atlas beyond a few conversations?
Nothing, really.
When I was younger, Hazel and I would lie in our bed together, whispering about our future loves. She had a list. "He'll be strong and heroic. He'll be kind and compassionate. He'll love me more than anything else. And we will never have to worry about food or where we're sleeping," she'd said. I didn't have a list but rather a feeling, but I would tell her, "I will feel like his greatest treasure."
Atlas doesn't even know me, but hell if I don't feel like he sees me, that perhaps I am a treasure somehow.
I tuck my face against Atlas's back, wondering how he can be so sure? I'm not, but I also consider now how different my trip to the city was going to play out when I boarded that bus to come after Hazel all alone. What it would have been like standing in this concrete jungle amid a pulsing artery of people by myself, trying to find my way to my sister among them. And it's only because my bus broke down in Carran Hollow that I met Atlas and am now surrounded by five men—one of whom has ripped apart my world and confronted me with the realization I know nothing.
It's all so much.
After leaving the motor inn that morning, we spent the remainder of the ride planning how this would go.
We have the element of surprise, Luka said. We should use that.
I'm still going to meet whoever has Hazel, but under the watchful eyes of Atlas and his brothers, ready to swoop in at a moment"s notice.
It's risky,Atlas said. I don't like Ivy in that position.
It's okay,I answered, but I could feel his antagonism through our bond.
I'm not risking you.
You're bonded,Samson said. You're not going to like anything that compromises it right now. And you're also not thinking straight. This is the right move.
I could feel Atlas's scowl, even though I couldn't see his face. I could feel how much he didn't like not being in control of this, but also playing the part of being a good soldier in the order of his family.
Now, as our motorcade moves together through the city, I squeeze Atlas a little tighter, so grateful he's here with me. I realize now having experienced the loss of my mother, and then Hazel's departure, living my life on my own for those many months left me bereft. Walking life in solitude is a harsh burden to bear, and Atlas has made sure I'm not alone in this.
By the time we've reached the designated spot—a giant park in the midst of the city—and after scouting the square where I was told to go, Tate walks several spans behind me. The rest of the brothers are waiting inconspicuously with eyes on us, though I can't see them. Getting Atlas to let me go with Tate was a challenge.
"Fuck, Atlas. This is exactly why it's Tate," Rome snapped.
"Tate looks like a college kid in the park. Your glower will give you away," Luka added.
Samson just laughed, and Atlas tried to pick a fight, which made Samson laugh harder.
Are you okay? Atlas's voice cuts into my headspace as I sit on a bench near the fountain at the center of the park.
Yes,I answer and watch the plethora of people move through the cobblestone courtyard.
I can see you, he says.
I lift my phone to my ear, even though I'm only pretending. "Good." I glance around, looking, but don't see him. Tate's stopped a few benches away, and looks like he's scrolling through his phone. The fountain at my back is surrounded by benches, most occupied. Directly in front of me is a tunnel that cuts underneath into a different section of the park, a pathway running over the top. There are green spaces with people sitting on blankets, others playing games, joggers, mothers with strollers laughing together as they talk. Besides the people, trees with thick green leaves, and cobblestone and dirt pathways branching from this square dominate everything.
I don't like how busy it is,Luka says. Hard to keep track.
You got her, Tate? Rome asks.
Yep.
Five minutes to the next surge, Samson says. Same time they're to arrive.
During their time spent observing the square, at every top and bottom of the hour a surge of pedestrians getting off buses and subways flooded the square. It was the perfect opportunity for something nefarious. It was also why each of the brothers is hidden at a point of entry.
But there aren't enough of them to cover every one.
I look up at the fancy metal clock above the tunnel and glance around. How do we know what we're looking for?
A jogging woman slows and stretches at the end of my bench. She holds up her watch and presses her fingers to her pulse point at her neck.
The minutes tick past.
Eyes sharp, Samson says. The top of the hour.
A surge converges.
"Get up," a voice says from my right. "Don't look, just walk, or your sister dies. Tunnel."
I stand, glancing over at Tate, who I can't see in the throng of bodies. They're here, I say.
Tate? Do you have eyes on her? Atlas says through the connection.
Negative!
The tunnel, I say. I'm walking toward the tunnel.
Stay where you are, Atlas,Rome orders. I see her. Tate, get there. Don't let her reach the end of the tunnel.
Whoever is behind me isn't a giant presence, but sinister enough to make me think twice about being alone with him. "Through the tunnel. Turn left at the end."
I swallow. The tunnel closes overhead, blocking out light but for the two entry points. "Is my sister there?" I ask, walking slowly, trying to give Atlas and his brothers time. My nerves are a riot inside me, thinking about running, but unwilling to sever the only connection I have to my sister. I can be brave for her. "Where is she?" I ask.
Whoever is behind me doesn't answer, but I feel a push forward toward the end of the tunnel with a simultaneous sting in my shoulder.
"Ouch." I slap my shoulder with my hand to stave off the burning sensation.
Someone bumps me and everything tilts, my vision blurring. Then a shadowy figure wraps an arm around me, to keep me upright. "Easy," he says, a different voice from the first.
"What?" My voice sounds strange, slow. I blink. "Atlas?" And everything turns black.
The slam of a door jolts me awake. Startled into moving, I sit up quickly, and with a groan, rock my head forward between my hands. It's pounding. My mouth is dry. My brain is muddled with confusion.
Where am I?
Squinting—even though it's dark—I look around but can't see. I stand, holding out my hands I find a wall, and measure out that I'm in a very small room with metal reinforcements, like bars. It's rectangular, with a locked metal door at one end and no windows. A cell. There's a cot, a bucket. I'm trapped.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, I chant inside my head. Atlas? I try the connection, but it's glaringly quiet. Oh fuck.
There are voices—low and deep—as well as hushed sounds of… women.
"Hello?" I call out. "Hazel? Are you there?"
There's a sniff next to me, then quiet. I wait, listening, terror climbing up into my throat, and filling it, but I move closer to one of the walls. "Hello? Is someone there?"
"Be quiet," a woman says, her voice muted on the other side. "They'll come for you."
"Who?"
"Monsters."
Monsters? Like demons or the men that took me. "I don't understand," I say. "Where are we?"
Silence answers me, and I think whoever is on the other side won't speak again, but then she says, "I don't know. I woke up here a few days ago and have only seen guards. But there's… the screams."
Screams?
There's a sudden sound at the door of my cage. The sound of metal clinking, a scrape and slide. The door opens. A shadow fills the space of the doorframe, the light behind him hiding his features. "Well, well. Look who's awake."
I squint at the light, holding a hand up.
"Such a pretty aura," he says and takes a step inside. I take a step back. "I can feel your power."
I'm sifting through my thoughts, looking for a question that might help me get out of this mess, but all I can think to ask is, "Where's Hazel?"
"Who?" the shadow asks.
"You promised me my sister."
"I didn't promise you shit, calix."
"Where am I?"
He grunts, drops a tray and backs through the door, pulling it shut behind him. I hear the metal locks re-engage.
Fuck.
There's a knock on the sidewall opposite the woman I've spoken with.
"Don't eat the prepared food," a new woman says. "They put something in it for the experiments."
My eyes widen and search for the shadow of the tray the shadowy man has dropped.
"Only the whole stuff—if there is anything. The bread is usually okay. What's your name?"
"Ivy."
"I'm Sairah."
"I'm looking for my sister," I say, but realize how stupid it sounds. I'm not looking for anything. I've been locked in a cage for being… "Are you a calix?" I ask.
"I think we all are," she answers.
My breath hitches, getting trapped in my chest.
Atlas? I think.
Nothing.
Rome? Luka? Samson? Tate?
Nothing.
Tears pierce my eyes then fill them before spilling down my cheeks. I'm trapped, I think to Atlas and his brothers.
No answer.
My heart pounds.
Atlas? Please.
Nothing.
I've been alone for a long time. I have survived on my own, willingly started on this solo journey to find my sister, but now, locked in a dark box after having the support of… someone else, I now understand the truth of being abandoned. A voice whispers in my head followed by another. See? It says cruelly, You were never good enough. Having had that presence—even for a heartbeat—and to have it gone feels painful and empty. In that silence, I realize how much I'd foolishly come to rely on Atlas's presence.
I'd come to like it. To accept it.
And now this hurts worse.
This—having had and lost—this is truly alone.