Dead of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 1)

We slaughtered our way through the pile and reached the center. Gone was Njall’s torso. In its place, a still-quivering knot of mutilated organs.

A tremor moved through me and the dagger’s hilt wobbled in my hand. I soared it end-over-end, ceasing another mutation. Another loss to mourn later.

Between my rounds and Jesse’s arrows, we annihilated the last of the immediate threats as the distant horizon swelled with more.

Above the carnage, the Drone bounced between the air and the ground in an oddly insectile movement of legs, and landed on a steep ledge over the highest waterfall.

I retrieved the blade from Njall’s eye socket and reloaded the carbine. “The added weight is slowing down his flight. We can catch him.”

My guardians exchanged looks.

“What will he do to her, Michio?” I glanced at the Drone atop his rock belfry. How far away he was up there, but close enough to see his black soul dancing in his eyes.

“He’ll imbibe her blood, if he hasn’t already. Since it’s treated with yours, it could cure him. Strengthen him. Or maybe it’ll kill him.”

Jesse stiffened beside me. “And if we let him get away, we won’t know. Evie will never be able to take her eyes off the sky.” He scratched a whiskered cheek. “Let’s cut off his wings, Spotted Wing.”

I wanted to respond with a fist pump. Instead, my body buckled with the sickening buzz of hundreds of aphids beating a rhythm inside me. I knew it well. It had crawled under my skin enough to become a part of me. “They’re coming in droves.” I backed into a crevice in the cliff, shaking. “Is this why we haven’t seen aphids since Reykjavik? The Drone gathered them here?”

“Could be the dearth of mammals left on this glacial island.” Michio shrugged out of his coat and shirt. “Maybe the scent of food—our horses, or us—led them here. I have a plan to diminish their numbers.”

Tallis sprinted along the river with Georges at his heels. “Better hurry,” he shouted through heavy breaths. Then his eyes widened, and he pointed over my shoulder.

A vibrational draft whipped my back. I spun, instincts jerking me out of a spell of hesitancy. The sharp point of a mandible stabbed the air. I swung my forearm, redirected it. The tiny pupils dilated, brimmed with a knowing. I sunk the blade.

Strong arms encompassed me. Hickory breath warmed my cheek.

I let my forehead fall against the naked ridges of Jesse’s chest and waited for my heart rate to slow. His was a steady beat against me. I held tight to the moment, wishing it was another time, another place, that heartbeat pounding beneath me with the labors of desire. His chin lifted. I followed his gaze.

A sea of green bodies filled my vision.

He dodged the dance of pincers and striking jaws. Where his arrow struck, blood spouted.

Someone grabbed my arm, handed me my recovered dagger. “Take them, Evie.” Michio’s calm voice. “Take them over the falls.” Then he screamed over his shoulder, “Jesse. Roark.”

To free my hands, I dropped the carbine on its sling. My guardians encircled me, bathed me in warm muscle. I didn’t know where one chest ended and the other began. Their hearts thundered with the torrent of water chuting off the icy bluffs.

Rifles boomed around us as Tallis and Georges protected our huddle. Michio pressed us onto a rock ledge. “If they get close, we jump.”

Water rushed by, spraying froth at our boots. Spasms rioted beneath my skin and the army pushed closer in battle ready lines, the sun’s golden reflection at their backs.

The tide crashed off the ledges above. Moss-covered cliffs jutted on all sides and guided the crash of melt water over multiple tiers. The Drone watched, Frida hooked under his arm, his body vibrating.

“Anytime now, darlin’.” Jesse’s chin, buried under stubble, sawed side to side.

My waiting energy—my Yin and Yang—uncoiled from my backbone. I exhaled the image, the destination, like an emotional sigh.

The army continued their race toward us. I needed to turn them ninety degrees. Goose pimples cropped along my arms. My body temperature dropped. Roark pressed closer at my back, his whiskers scrubbing my hair.

I tried again, visualizing my breath as it escaped through my nostrils. I cleared my mind of all thoughts except the image I projected. Then I felt, rather than saw, the army turn.

The chill locked up my limbs. Michio rested his cheek against mine in welcome support. The threads battering me, itching my skin, spiked with fear and bristled the hair on my arms. The army reached the water’s edge. The front line wavered.

I focused on the ranks behind. Push, push, push pulsed from my chest.

They fell like dominoes over the ledge. A barrage of rifle fire picked off the stragglers escaping my command. The icy wind carried dozens of squeals as the aphids plunged into the rushing falls.