Rushing down the tunnels, I crossed the aisles in a hurry and raced up the steps to the upper level. Unbelievable I hadn’t found out sooner!
Just as I skidded to a halt in front of the main quarters’ glass doors, I froze, hand hovering over the door handle. Biting my lip, I contemplated what to do. I was so relieved I’d finally figured out my ability, I couldn’t wait a second longer to tell Jimmy and the others, but now, doubt started to replace my excitement, my newfound resolve slowly subsiding.
Dropping my hand from the handle, I stepped back. What should I do? What if the others thought I was a freak? What if they realized I was even more dangerous than they’d thought and wanted me out of the compound? What if I couldn’t learn how to control it? Whom should I trust?
Scott already knew I’d solved the riddle. He wouldn’t keep it a secret from Jimmy and the rest. Maybe I should wait a few days until I had a better plan in mind for how to proceed. Maybe I should—
The door swung abruptly outward, and I spun around, startled, only to meet a big barrier. A very nice smelling, broad, and muscled barrier.
My head lifted slowly to see Dylan frowning at me, stormy, appion eyes burning into mine. I gulped and recoiled, which was my usual reaction when it came to him. From all the people who could have exited the room, it had to be the one I’d wanted to evade at all costs. What would he think now? That I’d snuck around to eavesdrop?
Dylan closed the door behind him, continuing to scowl at me. “What do you want?” he snapped in his usual cold voice, completely at odds with the comforting words he’d used just a day before to stop me from having a fit.
“I… um… Well, I…” The words tumbled in my head as I tried not to shy away from his commanding presence. Lying was a weakness of mine and at that moment, when Dylan’s appion eyes pierced me as if he wanted to set my body on fire, I wasn’t able to form a plausible thought.
I nervously tugged at the bracelets on my wrist. If I told anyone about my ability first, it shouldn’t be Dylan, by all means. Why would he care?
A memory invaded my mind—Dylan glaring at me with cold eyes, his voice dripping venom, his hand unyielding around my throat, daring me to come near him.
Dylan sniffed, dipped his head, and strained his eyes to look into mine more closely. “Are you high?” he asked in disbelief.
Shit, how stupid of me! The shock of my discovery had dampened the effects of the drug, making me forget about it completely. Great. Just fucking great! Now I was a stoned eavesdropper, very mature…
“I… I’m sorry…” was the only thing my mouth extracted, and I pivoted on my heels in hopes of finding a hole to disappear. What a disaster…
Just as I made two steps in the other direction, a strong hand clamped around my upper arm, spinning me around.
“If you want to tell us anything we should know, you should start talking. Now,” Dylan nearly growled, intimidating me to the point my legs started to shake. I tried to shake off his chilly demeanor but without success.
“I… I don’t think you are the… um… the right person to…”
“Unfortunately, I’m the only one available right now, so spit it out.”
He spread his legs and crossed his arms, waiting for my explanation. Why was he so fucking angry? Dylan had never been a pleasant person around me, but it seemed his animosity against me had multiplied overnight. I became used to him being distant, stoic, and steely, but now he seemed to be over the edge.
But it made perfect sense. The incident in the hospital—he blamed me for my failure. Now I knew the answer to the question how Dylan would react to yesterday’s events. Apparently, not well.
“You know what? It can wait,” I snapped back, irritated by his hostile demeanor.
I swear, Dylan Dwight pushed all my buttons. Everything he blamed me for was warranted, but he made my life here harder than it needed to be. He’d volunteered to accompany me last night. How should I stay away from him if he didn’t let me?
I turned again to leave. It was crazy provoking Dylan like that. If he got his hands on me again, he’d strangle me, and this time, with the right amount of pressure needed to kill me for good.
“If you think you can—” Dylan started, but I wouldn’t let him finish his sentence. I spun on my heels again, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“Why did you do it?” My voice came out harsher than intended. I was sure Dylan would explode, but he seemed to be lost on words and threw me a startled look.
I took a step closer to him. “Why did you volunteer to go with me? You told me to stay away from you, and I did. Why threatening me one day and protecting me the next? It doesn’t make sense!” I shouted, my composure vanishing into thin air.
I wasn’t the emotional type, by all means, but somehow, all the hate and anger had dammed up to an unbearable level. Now, I was on a roll, and it felt fucking good to let it out.
Dylan was still struck speechless, either because he didn’t know how to answer, or because he was still stupefied by my sudden outburst.
I dared to take another step forward, nearly poking his chest with my finger. Clearly suicidal.
“And why did you help me with my dislocated shoulder after my jump over the wall? You didn’t care about the others who were injured. Why helping me?”
Dylan finally found his voice again, eyes glinting with fury. “I couldn’t—”
I didn’t hear him out. “You have every right to hate me. Every damn right. I hate myself because of what happened to Ricky, more than you could ever imagine. I can’t even look in the mirror without seeing Ricky or Shawna dying in front of me. I can’t even go to sleep without their faces haunting my dreams every fucking night!”
Dylan’s open mouth clamped shut, his jaw clenching so hard, I feared his teeth were going to shatter. He threw me a warning look, nostrils flaring, daring me to pick up this precarious topic. But I was sick of all these unspoken words.
“And do you know what the funniest thing is?” I huffed out a laugh, flailing hands in the air. “Sarah could have saved Ricky. She just didn’t tell us to spare me the blame and your wrath. She could have saved him if she hadn’t used up half of her energy to heal my fucking knee!”
I watched Dylan fisting his hands to the point where I could hear his knuckles crack. I expected a punch thrown at me any second, one I certainly wouldn’t survive.
“See? If we put it that way, I was two times the reason Ricky had to die. Sometimes I think fate wants to fuck me hard, letting me live in exchange for the lives of others. I would give my damn, pathetic life for every one of them if I were given a chance, without hesitation. Every one of them!” I screamed, the last sentence echoing in the silent hallway.
I was panting, my hands itching to smash something. I’d let all my anger out on Dylan. A sheen of unshed tears was clouding my vision, but I refused to let them fall.
Dylan endured my ranting with a glare so full of malice, I was surprised he was still sane and not lost to the Bluster. With a pounding heart, I braced myself for his wrath to strike me. I wouldn’t go into defense, not this time. If I were allowed to let it all out, then it was only fair to give him his share.
His gaze swept sideways to something behind me. I turned slowly to see everyone staring at us, open-mouthed. Jimmy, Chris, Sarah, Cassie, Phil, and Josh had all come out to see the source of the commotion.
Cassie looked at me as if I’d gone mental, but my gaze landed on Sarah. I hadn’t wanted to tattle on her, but as I was to blame for Ricky’s fate, I hoped for Sarah’s forgiveness. Sarah was the only one to keep her gaze down while the others threw me pitiful looks.
No, I didn’t need their pity. I didn’t deserve their kindness.
Meanwhile, the familiar tingling feeling in my stomach arose, my vision misting over with a red haze and making me dizzy. Shutting my eyes, I shook my head to avoid losing balance, as I knew would happen. My knees buckled, but a hand under my elbow kept me upright.
“Easy there.”
I opened my eyes to see Chris supporting me. His eyes roamed between mine, and I knew he’d seen the Flare flashing in them.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, twisting out of Chris’ embrace.
Jimmy approached me with a look of concern. “Haylie, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not,” I croaked. “But I certainly played a part in their deaths.”
And with that, I whirled around to escape Dylan’s afflicting glare of condemnation.
~~~
My energy left me. Being a Natural or not, I was exhausted. And the book in front of me, Practical and Effective Self-Defense Techniques—An Ultimate Guide with over five hundred pages, was doing the exact opposite of keeping me awake. Okay, my drug abuse from earlier today was certainly the main reason for my fatigue.
Granted, I was avoiding sleep. I didn’t want to visit those dreams again, not tonight. My emotional reservoir had already burst.
What the hell was wrong with me? I’d let it all out on Dylan, the one who lost his younger brother on my behalf. I’d humiliated him in front of his friends and colleagues. How would he react the next time he saw me? How would the others react? Maybe they’d throw me out of the compound. No, Jimmy wouldn’t do that, would he?
Two soft knocks on my door jerked me out of the distorted, already-half-asleep posture in my chair.
“Haylie, it’s Chris. Are you still awake?”
A relieved sigh. Thankfully, not Jimmy or Dylan.
I stood up to open the door. Chris was leaning with his forearm propped on the doorframe beside his head. His lips hinted at a smile, warming me up from the inside. That boy had a smile like an angel. No, more like the devil and clearly disarming.
“You look like I’ve thrown you out of bed,” he remarked but not in the least regretful.
Ugh, I hadn’t thrown a look in the mirror before opening the door. My hair was coming out of the hair clip, and it certainly looked ruffled from my earlier head-propped-on-my-hand position.
“I was still awake, but Scott’s literature isn’t helping, to be honest,” I replied with a smile and earned another one from Chris.
His voice became firm as he pushed away from the doorframe and put both hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, as if he was approaching a scared puppy.
“Um, sure.”
I swung the door open wider to let him in. He strode slowly, taking everything in as I closed the door behind him. Chris stopped in front of my bed and inhaled deeply with his eyes closed.
“Scott loves your scent. I’d like to have his Tracer ability now,” Chris commented.
Thankfully, he was standing with his back to me, or he would have seen me blushing ten shades of red. Chris was one of those guys who could turn a nice and casual compliment into intimate foreplay, like a feather caressing your skin in the most sensitive way. To be honest, I didn’t know how I felt about that.
He bent down and took the crossbow propped against the wall. Gripping it, he weighed the weapon in his hands, examining it from different angles.
“That’s a masterpiece.”
“Yeah, it surely is.” I walked over to him. “It was my father’s.”
“Dylan told me you finished a Hunter off with this one.”
“Um, it was a lucky shot. I hadn’t used the crossbow for a long time.”
He nodded, somehow lost in thoughts, and plopped down on my bed. I strode over to my desk chair.
“Listen, I’m sorry about—” I started but was interrupted before I could even sit down.
“Please, don’t apologize again. You needed to let it out. I know you blame yourself for everything, and it’s impossible to convince you otherwise, but you need to know that Dylan doesn’t hate you because he thinks everything’s your fault.” He shot me an intense look. “It’s because of who you remind him of.”
“Of Ricky. I know that, Chris,” I answered, scowling at him. Why would he feel the need to remind me of that fateful night Dylan’s brother gave his life in exchange for mine?
“No. Ha, it’s funny, fate doesn’t seem to be on your side.” He gave a dry laugh and shook his head, brushing one hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “You remind him of two others who were dear to him in their own ways. In short, you are the living connection to three deaths he failed to prevent.”
I stared at him, perplexed. Could the day get any worse?
“You’re joking,” I stated, already dreading his denial. He only gave me an apologetic smile, which didn’t make me feel any better.
“Do you know Dylan was in jail?” Chris suddenly asked out of nowhere, surprising me by the turn in conversation.
“No,” I admitted but to be honest, I wasn’t surprised.
Dylan was a perfect badass, ex-lag guy—not like a brutal murderer, but just as lethal. I wondered what kind of crime he’d committed and secretly hoped he didn’t do anything morally questionable.
“Okay, maybe I should start from the beginning…” Chris sighed and propped his head against the wall, ready to jump into his story. “Dylan’s mother died given birth to Ricky. His father never got over it and drowned his misery in alcohol. One night, he got into the car drunk and drove it into a tree. He died, leaving little Dylan, Ricky, and their older brother, Jackson, behind.”
My hand flew up to my mouth. I had no idea Dylan was burdened with such a horrible past.
“Jackson took care of his two younger brothers as best as he could, but unfortunately, he died of pneumonia when Dylan was only twelve, and Ricky was still a little child. Dylan’s past made him a difficult teenager—aggressive all the time, violent, and uncontrollable. He and Ricky were transferred from one foster care to another. The last foster family was the worst. The father was a pedophile, and Dylan came into Ricky’s room just in time to… well, you get the picture.”
Tears started to fog my vision. “Oh my God.”
“Dylan lost it and beat him unconscious, then he took Ricky and left. They lived on the streets for weeks. Jimmy found them one night sleeping under a bridge with nothing but a jacket to warm them. When Jimmy saw their eyes, he knew what they were and took them under his wing. That’s why Jimmy is like a father to Dylan and one of the few people Dylan truly respects.”
I wiped a finger under my eyes to catch the tears before they spilled.
“So,” Chris huffed, continuing with his story. “Dylan was nineteen and already an Intermediate. He and Jimmy found a Natural. Her name was Jenna, and she had the power to control fire.”
My head snapped up at the sound of the girl’s name. “The one Jimmy told me about when I came here?” And the one who got killed, as far as I remembered, but I kept this thought to myself. The story was already poignant enough for my heavy heart.
“Yes. Jenna was a lovely girl and quite talented for her age, but she suffered from occasional panic attacks, which were a deadly mixture with the ability she had. She was also very frightened of her power, which is dangerous because fear prevents you from controlling it. Dylan and Jenna grew close. I don’t know if they ever dated, he never told me. Anyway, Dylan was very good at easing her panic attacks, and he taught her how to wield her power.”
He’d eased Jenna’s panic attacks. Like he’d done with me in the closet?
“One night, they left the compound for a night out. Jenna volunteered to drive, and Dylan got drunk. When they were on their way home, the Hunters attacked them in a side alley. Dylan tried to fight them off, but he was too wasted to move or think properly.”
My heartbeat rose up a notch. I didn’t want to hear what happened next, the story foreboding a morbid ending.
“Even back then, Dylan was an outstanding Fighter, and I have no doubt he would have won if he’d been sober. But that wasn’t the case. A Hunter slashed at his face with a knife, and it put him off guard. You noticed the scar crossing his eyebrow, right?”
I nodded. How could I not? It was the first thing I’d noticed when I saw him.
“It looked a lot worse. Half of his face was slashed open. Sarah could have healed it, but Dylan wouldn’t let her. He said he wanted to keep the scar as a reminder…” Chris trailed off, a faraway look on his face. After a sigh, he continued. “Anyway, Jenna panicked when she saw Dylan was hurt and lost control. She got caught in the Bluster. An innocent guy crossed the street, lighting a cigarette, and it escalated.”
I took a sharp breath as I realized what he was saying. Jimmy had told me Jenna wasn’t able to create fire, only to manipulate it. A glowing cigarette seemed to be enough to get the fire burning, in the truest sense of the word…
“Jenna got caught in the flames, along with a few surrounding cars, and created an explosion. Dylan took one of the Hunters as a shield when everything blew up and came away with a few broken bones. Everyone else within a few feet radius,” Chris spread his fingers wide and made a wiping motion for visualization, “burned to death, including Jenna. Dylan saw Jenna burn,” Chris slowly dragged out the last words.
“Oh my God.”
Chris swallowed laboriously. “Dylan got into the Bluster himself, but he was unstoppable and caused mayhem. He killed three innocent people in his uncontrollable rage. When Jimmy finally arrived, he somehow managed to bring Dylan back to his senses and brought him back to the compound. Sarah healed his bones, but she could only do it in steps. After Dylan was back on his feet, he vanished without saying a word and turned himself in. Jimmy took matters into his hands and hired an overpaid lawyer to get the sentence lowered. Dylan got three years.”
The story was even more horrible than I’d feared. I rose from my chair and took a seat next to Chris on the bed, feeling the urge to comfort him. He had one knee propped up, his wrist casually leaning on it while playing with a leather band on his arm.
“Have you… were you there?” I asked carefully.
“No. It’s ironic, really, but I had a hangover from the night before and decided to stay here. I can’t stop wondering if I could have changed anything had I been there.”
I put my hand on his. There weren’t any words I could say to him now. To my surprise, Chris turned his hand upward, entwining our fingers. He squeezed once, as if he needed my mental support.
“I can’t believe it… Jimmy told me…” I tried to swallow, but my throat seemed to constrict.
“Jimmy didn’t tell you the entire truth because you weren’t ready.”
Yeah, probably. How would I have reacted if Jimmy had told me Jenna blew herself up? And then another wave of panic hit me—what if the same fate awaited me? What if I lost control, killing myself and risking other people’s lives?
“And now I’m ready?” I asked impassively, knowing more nightmares were about to come.
“Probably not, but you needed to know about Dylan and why he is who he is.”
I nodded, glad I knew the background now, even if the knowledge heavily weighed down on me.
“So, Jenna was the first Natural who died under his hands,” Chris went on, shaking me out of my reverie when he added, “The second was… your sister.”
My head snapped up at hearing his words. I’d surely misunderstood, right?
“W… what?” The words stuck in my throat. She died four years ago. I didn’t know Dylan back then, and I was sure Shawna didn’t either.
“Dylan had just been released from jail and came back to the compound, but he wasn’t the same anymore. He’d certainly lived up to his Fighter nature and had changed in every way possible. He was strong, trained, focused, cold, numb, emotionless… the perfect soldier. As we didn’t have access to the traffic system yet, we needed to rely on scouts, Watchers and Catchers, to patrol the streets in search of Roes. One night, they found a Natural, and we all got ready to get to her, but it was too late. Dylan was the first to get to Shawna’s lifeless body being carried away by the medics. Shawna was Dylan’s second Natural in his life he couldn’t save. And all Naturals have the same eyes, so you are an everyday reminder.”
Dylan was there? I wouldn’t know, as the medics had already dragged me into the ambulance. He must have arrived a few seconds later.
“And the third was Ricky, his brother,” I finished, spitting out the last word that felt like poison dripping onto my tongue. I put a fist into my mouth and bit into it to hold back the scream threatening to erupt.
“Yes,” Chris concluded, defeated. “Now you know the reason why Dylan can’t cope. He dedicated his life to saving Naturals, and he still sees it as his duty to do so, but, in his opinion, you also remind him of everyone he failed. And the cherry on top is, Ricky saved you only to die shortly afterward.”
“Goddammit. No wonder he resents me so much. And I yelled at him today and said awful things and I…”
Chris grabbed my face and forced me to look at him, his appion eyes slicing into mine. “He needed to hear it. You’re stuck in the same horrible past as he is. Your fate is no better than his. Also, he needs to see you are his chance to make up for everything.” He paused, continuing to penetrate me with his intense gaze, as if he needed the assurance that I understood the sincerity of his words.
“Haylie, if he doesn’t succeed in keeping you alive, then I don’t know if we’ll be able to save him again.”
Jesus... That was why Dylan had wanted to go on this mission with me. He needed to protect me to prevent a fourth failure, despite the animosity he felt toward me.
I was wrong. Fate didn’t just fuck me hard.
It fucked Dylan double time.