Oblivion (Broken City 3)

The man on my left shakes his head. "If you want the dog to shut up, make him yourself. I don't hurt animals."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," the other man sneers, his yellowish fingernails stabbing into my arms. "You'll kill a human, but you won't kill a stupid little dog?"

The man on my right stares down at me with hatred burning in his eyes. "She's not human."

My heart misses a beat. Those eyes ... So blue ... Alarmingly blue ... I know him ... from somewhere ...

"But she's close," the man on my right points out. "Closer than the dog is."

"No, she's not." The other man keeps his gaze on me, a smile pulling at his lips. "Don't let her looks fool you. What lies underneath those pretty, sad eyes is a horrible, murderous monster who needs to be killed repeatedly."

"Allura, did you hear what I said?" Ryder waves his hand in front of my face.

I blink as I'm hauled back to reality, but the pain from the memory--or whatever that was--continues to sear my heart.

A horrible, murderous monster? I'm a murderer?

"No ... What?" I blink again, trying to focus.

"I said, I think the sun's heating up the metal on the compassbot." Ryder peers up at the sky then at me, his brows furrowing. "Are you okay?"

I nod. "I'm fine." Liar. You're not fine. You're a monster. A murderer.

But who did I kill?

"Are you sure?" Ryder asks, studying me with concern. "You seem ... I don't know, distracted."

"I'm just thinking about some stuff." I hate lying to him, but I can't find the courage to tell him the truth.

I'm a killer.

A monster.

Ryder sighs defeatedly. "If you don't want to talk about it, then it's fine. Just know I'm here."

"I'm sorry." I'm not even sure what I'm apologizing for.

"Don't apologize for nothing. Ever. Got it?" He wags a finger at me sternly, but his lips pull into a smile.

I try to mirror his happiness, but fail epically. "Got it."

He frowns. Then his eyes sparkle as he looks at the compassbot. "You know what? I think you should keep it."

"Like take it back to the station with me?" I start to smile when he nods, but then frown. "Are you sure that's okay? I don't live there, so maybe I shouldn't bring a pet back without permission."

"You have my permission, which is enough. And besides, the station will be your home." He scratches the back of his neck, seeming nervous, which is very out of character for him. He's usually so relaxed and flippant. "At least, if you want it to be."

"I want it to be." I stare down at the compassbot. Its head is lowered and its eyelids are droopy, appearing so at peace, like a harmless robot who deserves a home. But me ... If they knew the truth, about the stuff I see myself do in my memories, dreams--whatever they are--not everyone would welcome me. "I'm not sure everyone will want me to live there after they find out I might be half-Grim."

"We don't know you are for sure," he reminds me. "And even if you are, no one would care."

I stay silent. I know he's trying to make me feel better, but I don't agree with him. Not everyone thinks the same, carries the same opinions, or reacts the same way to situations, so I doubt everyone at the station will be okay with me if it turns out I'm a hybrid. Look at the Forsaken. They loathed hybrids. And for good reason. And everyone from my memories doesn't seem too thrilled with my presence, either.

Ryder bends over to catch my gaze. "Look, I don't believe anyone at the station would care if it turns out you're a hybrid. We don't have to tell anyone if it makes you uncomfortable."

Guilt chokes at me. "Then you'd have to lie to everyone."

"Yeah, so?"

"I don't want you to have to lie to people you care about."

"You say that like I don't care about you." He fixes his finger under my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. "I do. So does Reece and Blaise. And Blaise doesn't care about anyone, which says a lot about what kind of person you are."

"You hardly know me," I say softly. "For all you know, I could turn out to be as bad as those hybrids who killed all those Forsaken."

His gaze never wavers from mine. "I know you aren't."

"How do you know that for sure?" I don't.

His hand molds my cheek. "You don't have a damn bad bone in your body, whether you believe so or not."

"Not everything I've done is good." Even if I can't remember all the bad, sometimes I can feel it living inside the darkest parts of my mind.

"If you're talking about what happened back in the tent, then you're completely wrong. You were just trying to protect me. You were so brave, and I wish you'd realize that."

His words make me feel warm inside, like melted chocolate. I don't even know how I know what melted chocolate feels like, but that's how I feel right now. And while I know I may be undeserving of the feeling, I can't seem to force it to go away.

"Thanks for saying that," I say so quietly my voice nearly gets carried away by the wind.

"No, thank you."

"For what?"

"For being you."

My lips pull into the tiniest smile, and he grins. But his happiness fades into puzzlement.

I open my mouth to ask him what's wrong when he grazes his thumb across my lip, silencing me. Then his gaze drops to my mouth and his tongue slips out from between his lips, his eyes glazing over. I've seen a guy look at me this way before. A guy who haunts my memories, who whispers promises of loving me, and then later tries to kill me.

Ryder once told me he wanted to kiss me, even going so far as to graze his lips against the corner of my mouth. Then he told me he'd wait until later to kiss me. What if he tries to kiss me right now? Should I stop it? Or just let him?

Should I let him kiss me without him knowing the entire truth about me?

All my worries are cut short as the ground rumbles.

"Do you feel that?" I whisper, my eyes widening.

Ryder nods dazedly with his gaze fastened on my mouth. "I do." Then he leans in.

I don't know what's going on--why he's not panicking that the ground's quaking--when fear courses through my veins.

"What if it's a Tracker?"

Ryder pauses, his lips mere inches from mine. "Huh ...?" His eyes enlarge as the ground gives another violent quake. "Shit." His hand leaves my cheek, and he grasps ahold of my hand as his gaze skims the cliffs around us.

"What is it?" I search the area, fighting back the urge to panic.

"I'm not sure ..." Ryder strengthens his hold on my hand as the dirt beneath our feet begins to splinter apart. "It's not a Tracker. They won't come near the fault." Doubt crosses his face as he peers upward at the cliffs.

I hold my breath, waiting for a giant, metallic snake to burst through the dirt and dive straight at us. It never happens. Instead, a group of metallic vehicles with shiny black exteriors and no trunk or roof, wheel up to the ledge. My mind takes a second to connect the machines to a word I know.

Motorcycles.

Of course, the motorcycles I picture are much smaller and less bulky, but I'm rarely right about what things look like.

A person straddles each motorcycle, their heads shielded by helmets. I can't tell if they're men or women. Then my stomach clenches as another thought occurs to me.

What if they aren't people? What if they're Grim?

"Ryder ... What are they?" My confusion doubles when a smile spreads across his face.

He glances at me, seeming more relaxed than he has since they rescued me from the channels. "That, sweetheart, is our rescue team."

Chapter 2

The Rescue Team

I want to share Ryder's happiness about the rescue team, but apprehension crawls inside of me. The last couple of times I crossed paths with strangers didn't turn out so well for me. Then I remind myself that Ryder, Reece, and Blaise were once strangers to me, too, and that turned out okay. More than okay.

One by one, the riders slip off their helmets. Angling my head up, I squint against the sunlight and make out the silhouettes of two tall, broad men and two women, one short and one tall.