Forsaken (Broken City 2)

Zinnia lets out a feral shriek. "You'll die trying to escape!"

Reece barrels forward and crashes into her. They both slam to the ground as her knife flies from her hand, and the quercu scatters across the dirt like fallen snowflakes. My eyes roll into the back of my head as the scent of fresh, thriving leaves saturates the air.

I'm so hungry. I'm so hungry. I need them. I need them.

"Come on, we have to go," Blaise says, lugging me backward.

"No, I have to get them." I throw my weight forward with a shocking amount of strength, and his arms slip from my waist.

"Allura, don't, please," Blaise begs, reaching for me. "We have to go--"

Wrath appears in front of us, grabs my arm, and yanks me to my feet as if I weigh nothing.

"Let her go!" Blaise savagely growls, jumping to his feet.

Wrath flips me around and jerks me against him, aligning my back to his chest. "Why? You lost the challenge, right? Which means I own her."

Where the heck did Ryder go? I turn my head, searching for him, and ice fills my veins. A man and woman have him pinned to the ground and are beating him bloody with the chain and their fists.

"Help Ryder," I plead with Blaise. "They're going to kill him."

Blaise doesn't seem to hear me, edging forward with his eyes trained on Wrath. "Lost the challenge. You didn't even fight me."

"You tried to run like a coward, so you lost." Wrath trails his finger along my jaw, across my lips, then down my neck. "And now I get to rip her apart bit by--"

In the blink of an eye, Blaise lunges forward, grabs my hips, and moves me to the side. Then he lets his fist fly, and his knuckles bash against Wrath's jaw.

Wrath staggers back, stunned. "You're not normal."

"And you're going to die," Blaise says then lowers his head and charges at Wrath again.

Wrath dodges out of the way, shrugs off his jacket, and chucks it to the floor as Blaise swings around. "If you want to play, then let's play." The muscles in his enormous arms bulge as he cracks his knuckles then flashes me a devious grin. "Winner takes--"

Blaise rams his head into Wrath's chest and pushes him back into the tent wall. The lanterns above us shake as Wrath picks Blaise up by the throat and throws him across the tent as if he weighs nothing. Blaise crashes into the chairs just a few feet away from me but recovers, leaps to his feet, and sprints across the tent at Wrath. Wrath skitters out of the way, whirls around, and punches Blaise in the side of the head. Blaise drunkenly staggers, his shoulder knocking against the side of the tent. Wrath then hits Blaise in the head again, and this time, he draws blood.

"No!" I cry, rushing for Blaise.

Blaise collapses to the dirt, clutching his head, and Wrath grins as he strides toward me. I turn around to run, but he snags the back of my dress.

"You aren't going anywhere," he breathes, slamming his chest against my back, His fingers delve into my waist as his teeth graze my earlobe. "I'm going to--"

I whip my head back against Wrath's face, and his fingers leave my waist. He trips backward as I stumble forward, dizziness overcoming me.

I need ... something ... something that will help make me strong.

I trip over my dress, staggering toward the quercu.

"Allura!" Blaise sounds so far away, like an echo. Or maybe I'm just moving extraordinarily fast.

I make it to the leaves before I can even take my next breath and pluck the flakes from the dirt.

Oh. My. God. I want them so badly.

I lift my hands to my face, my nostrils flaring, ready to devour.

"No. No. No. You can't eat them, or you're done for," the voice whispers in my ear again. "Then it can't be undone."

"Look at her! She's about to feed!" Zinnia says, her voice muffled. "She's one of them! Can't you see what you're trying to protect? She's evil!"

I jerk back as if burned and drop the quercu.

What am I doing? I don't need to do this. I'm not like this.

But I'm so hungry. Famished. As if I haven't been fed in ages. And all that healing. I can feel it taking a toll on my body. I need something, but I don't understand what.

"Yes, you do," the voice whispers. "Just lie down and shut your eyes. Then you'll be stronger and can help them."

I glance at Reece as he struggles to hold the chain around Zinnia's neck, at Ryder who's enduring merciless punches, and at Blaise rushing toward me, blood dripping from his hairline. I want to help them, so I listen to the voice and lie down on my stomach and press my face to the ground.

Blaise shouts my name again as my eyes close, ready to give in. But as a cold rush of air whooshes through me and my nostrils are blasted with the stench of rotten eggs, fear pulses through my body.

No. No. No. Not again.

What have I done?

Chapter Fourteen

The First

"What's happening?" I murmur with my eyes closed.

Did Lex's spirit take over my body again?

I crack one of my eyelids open, and for a heart stopping instant, I swear I see a pair of red, glowing eyes staring at me. When I blink, they're gone.

Taking a few uneven breaths, I peer around the tent, relieved to be looking through my own eyes and not Lex's. All relief erases, though, when I spot Blaise and Wrath pummeling each other.

Blood drips from Blaise's nose and covers the front of his shirt and unzipped jacket. On the opposite side of the tent, Ryder is pinned to the ground, enduring blow after blow. Beside him, Reece is strangling Zinnia with the chain, but Zinnia has her hands clasped around his throat.

I want to run to them, but I don't. I feel too ... different, like I don't really exist.

I rotate my arms in front of me, noticing the translucency of my skin. "What's happening to me?"

"Goddammit!" Blaise's scream pulls my attention to him.

He uppercuts Wrath in the chin, and blood gushes from his mouth. But Wrath just laughs, flashing a bloody smile. Then he cranes his blood-soaked fist back, ready to strike. Blaise veers to the right, jumps over a broken table, picks up the trunk, and hurls it at Wrath. Wrath's eyes widen for a flash of an instant b

efore the trunk smacks him square in the face. The contact makes a sickening sound, and then Wrath drops to the floor like a bag of bricks.

Blaise doesn't miss a beat, dashing toward a body on the ground.

I lean over, trying to see who the person is. My breath catches in my throat. It's ... me.

Blaise drops to his knees at my side and presses his finger to my pulse. He curses, leans down, and puts his ear next to my parted lips. Another curse leaves him, and then he positions his hands to my chest, and his arm muscles flex as he pumps my heart.

"Come on, breathe, dammit," he growls. "You can't die on me now."

My body lies motionless, my skin is pale, and my lips as red as the sky. My long, brown hair is sprawled out across the dirt, and flecks of quercu surround my head. I look hauntingly still, and if I had to guess, my skin is probably icy cold.

"Come on, Allura," Blaise pleads as he places his fingers to my temple. He closes his eyes, his forehead creasing in deep concentration. He mutters words under his breath, growing frustrated, then withdraws his hands and lowers his lips to mine.

I rub my eyes and blink a few times, watching Blaise try to breathe life into me. "How can this be possible? Am I ... dead?"

"No, you're recharging using the moonstone hidden underneath the ground. No one knows it's there, or I'm sure they never would've built their camp here." A woman about five or six years older than me materializes by my side.

Her raven black hair is matted, and she's dressed in a ratty shirt similar to the one I used to wear when I lived in the channels. Her transparent skin makes her face and body look boney and sunken in.

"You're a Grim." I skitter away when she steps toward me.

She freezes. "Not entirely."

I reach to grip the last chair still intact, but my fingers slip through, and I fall flat onto my face. I scramble to my feet, breathing wildly. My hands shake as I elevate them in front of me.

"What just happened? How did I do that?"

She takes a cautious step toward me. "You did it because you're a spirit right now. Just like me. You're stuck, a faded memory, never to be found."

"No, I'm not." I shake my head in denial. "If that were true, that means I'm a Grim."

"No, you're a hybrid." She extends her hand toward me. "Just like me." Her fingers brush my arm, her touch warm. "God, it's been ages since I touched anyone. Since I died here, actually."