Forsaken (Broken City 2)

"You know a lot more than you think," a voice whispers. "A lot more."

More images press against the back of my mind of a land filled with blood instead of water, but shouting and gunfire jerk me back to reality. The Forsaken have opened fire on the Deorum, but the bullets have little impact, dinging against the metal and falling to the ground.

Blaise runs for the door, hunkering down. Bullets zoom beside us, and more blood paints the dirt and tent walls.

I want to make the death and murder stop. All this pain, this hate, all the blood spilled ... I close my eyes, wishing I could do something.

My head begins to pound and blood trickles from my ears as a bullet pierces my neck.

"Keep your head down," Blaise murmurs, hugging me closer to his chest. "I'm going to get you out of here, but you need to hold still."

"But Ryder ... and Reece." Dizziness consumes me, the world spinning round and round. I feel like I'm drowning in my own blood.

Too weak to fight, I let myself slip under.

Chapter Sixteen

Escaping

"Stay with me, Allura," Blaise begs, his feet hammering against the ground.

The temperature has dropped to a chilling degree, and the noise of gunfire has dwindled.

I crack open my eyes to look around. The night sky stretches above us. The moon is absent, but the exploding fireballs of stars offer an adequate enough amount of light that I can make out the wire fencing just a small distance in front of us, lit up with torches.

We're still on Forsaken ground.

"Where are Ryder and Reece?" I croak, my throat as dry as the air.

Blaise's muscles twitch. "They're coming," is all he says.

I can't tell whether he's being truthful or not.

I crane my neck to look over his shoulder. A few tents are lit up, and I can hear the faint sound of gunfire overlapping the desperate cries from the people in the grates.

"Blaise." I grasp his arms as I'm jarred around. "We need to free the people in the grates."

"We don't have time." He charges toward the fence.

"Just go back and unlock the grates," I plead. "Give them a chance. It won't take very long. I can still hear gunfire, so everyone's probably still distracted."

Blaise shakes his head. "I can't do that. It's too risky. We need to get you out of here."

"Please," I beg. "There's been too much death already ... I need to help them."

He glances down at me, torn. "If I can get you somewhere safe, I'll try to come back and unlock all the grates. But only when you're safe."

The last thing I want is for him to wander off by himself. I want to beg him to turn around now so we can free the prisoners together, but he unexpectedly slams on the brakes.

"How the hell did you get out here?" Blaise growls, his arm muscles tautening.

"I took a shortcut," Calla answers. "When I saw you run, I figured you'd end up here."

I turn my head to look at her. She's leaning against the fence with a bag slung over her shoulder and blocking our escape route.

"Get out of my way," Blaise warns in a low tone. "Or I'll make you move."

"While I'd love to see you try," she sneers, straightening her stance, "I didn't come here to fight. I came here to help."

Blaise trades an unsure glance with me, and I shrug. I have no idea why she'd want to help us since the last time I saw her she stabbed me in the chest.

Blaise warily eyes Calla over. "How do we know we can trust you?"

"It doesn't really matter if you do or not." She slips the bag off her back and tosses it at Blaise's feet. "There's some food, water, and medical supplies in there. The guards abandoned their posts to join the fight, so you should be able to make a run for it without too many problems." She walks by us, heading back across the desert land toward the tents. "If I were you, I wouldn't come back for the prisoners, but it's your call."

Blaise turns, shouting after her, "Why are you doing this? It makes no sense."

She stops, half-turning. Her gaze flicks from me to Blaise. "She saved me, so call us even. I hate being in debt to people." With that, she hikes off, vanishing in the dusk.

Blaise hesitates, looking back and forth between the camp and the fence. "Why do I have the feeling there's more to it than what she said?"

"I don't know," I say. "But she might really just want to help."

"You give her too much credit." Blaise eyeballs the bag Calla left. "I have a feeling this is going to come back and bite me in the ass."

Still, he sets me down on the soft dirt so he can slip the bag onto his back. Then he bends the wire fencing, creating a wide gap, before scooping me into his arms and slipping out into the night.

"How are you feeling?" he asks as he tears up the bumpy path toward the cliffs.

"Okay." I touch my hand to my chest. "A little tired, but I--"

A sharp, cold object slashes into my ankle.

"Fuck." Blaise skids to a stop then spins around. "What was that?"

"A ... dart..." Numbness swims through my body, dreamland poisoning my veins.

"I'm not letting you get away!" Wrath yells. "She's going nowhere. She's way too valuable."

"Why won't he just fucking die?" Blaise mutters. He dithers, moving forward then backward as if deciding whether to run or stay and fight.

I don't get to find out what his decision is as the dreamland pulls me under.

Chapter Seventeen

Guilt

"You want to see what I can do?" the visitor whispers in my ear. "Close your eyes, and I'll show you."

I shake my head, skittering back until my back bumps into the moonstone wall of my cell.

The visitor trains his silver eyes on me as he stalks forward. "Come on, don't be shy. I'm hungry and want to play."

I shake my head, flattening my back to the wall.

If only I could run ... if only I could get past the iron circle ...

"You're scared." He crouches down in front of me and clasps my arms. "You probably should be." He leans forward until his lips hover over mine. "I have a feeling you're going to taste amazing. At least, that's what I was told."

"Why are you doing this?" I whisper, trembling. "I didn't do anything."

His brows rise to his hairline. "You speak?"

I swallow hard, forcing down my nerves. Maybe, if I talk to him, I can convince him not to hurt me?

"I do, yes."

"I've never met a Nameless who could talk before." He deliberates something, seeming torn.

A spark of hope surfaces inside me.

Maybe he won't hurt me.

But then his eyes narrow, and his fingernails cut into my wrists. "You're not supposed to talk," he growls, his eyes flashing silver. Then he smashes his lips against mine.

I jerk back, my head slamming against the moonstone. No. No. No. I don't want to do this.

But he climbs over me and forces me to lie down. I try to scream, but his lips come down on my mouth again, smothering the noise.

I don't want to be here.

His hand slides up my leg.

"Allura, wake up."

Tears fall from my eyes as he slams his palm against my chest.

I don't want to be here.

But I deserve to be here.

I am a monster.

He wraps a hand around my throat, strangling me as he steals the life from my veins.

"You taste better than any of them. But is it you or the moonstone in your walls?" he whispers against my lips. "I've never seen moonstone walls in any other cell. What's so special about you?"