The Taste Of Night

20

The last time the leader of troop 175-paranormal division, Las Vegas-picked up a weapon, he’d used it to slay his father. Warren Clarke hadn’t touched any weapon since, and to understand why, all you had to do was read the manual depicting the confrontation between him and his rogue father. I’d paid a near fortune to Zane to do just that, and the bloodbath that’d popped up at me from within those pages had given me nightmares for weeks. I saw firsthand how Warren had gotten his limp. And I saw how far he’d go to protect his troop, even from another agent of Light. Even from someone who was already in.

It was that, more than anything else, which had me waiting until near dusk to enter the briefing room where Warren had gathered the other star signs. I was the last to arrive, my face impassive under the weight of ten other gazes, my hair pulled back into a severe bun, gelled and fastened at the nape of my neck. I wore no jewelry save the ring my mother had left me, though the blank slate of my frame was marred by the bright summer dress I knew the others would immediately recognize as Olivia’s costuming, the face I presented to the outside world. Not one I normally wore about the sanctuary.

Warren’s eyes were narrowed, he already didn’t like what I was going to say, and I let my eyes move over him impassively because I’d been ready for that, just as I was ready for Gregor’s curiosity, and Micah’s scrutiny. Riddick and Jewell were merely attentive, and I felt a pang of regret move through me at the thought of never knowing them better. Vanessa knew I was up to something, clear by the reservation in her posture, and the genial boyishness dropped from Felix’s face as soon as I’d entered the room.

I hesitated when I spotted Rena. We hadn’t spoken since our confrontation at the launchpad, and now it was probable that we never would. I glanced at Warren. “Where’s Tekla?”

“She’s not coming.”

“I wouldn’t have asked everyone to be here if it wasn’t important,” I said, and felt my annoyance rise enough to momentarily overtake my nerves.

“I doubt it’s as important as charting our next move,” Chandra said from her chair in the corner. She was leaning on the back two legs. One push, I couldn’t help but think. “Not that we’d have a next move if it’d been left up to you.”

“Chandra,” Rena chided, and relief spun in my veins. She’d forgiven me, then. Too bad I was about to disappoint her again.

“I’m just saying, Tekla has enough to do without having to worry about this one’s latest hysterics-”

“We all know what you’re ‘just saying,’ Chandra,” Felix interrupted sharply. “Now shut up and let Olivia talk.”

I’d have shot him a grateful look if I’d thought he’d still be on my side five minutes from now. As it was, I just got on with my task, turning to look at Hunter for the first time.

He was a shade of his former self, and if Carl were drawing him now, it would be in charcoal, all the life and vitality leached from his image. Red pockets were smudged beneath his eyes from lack of sleep, too much drink, or both, and his face was drawn, cheeks sunken, like he’d lost weight overnight. He saw me studying him and raised a brow in mock regard, but it was clear he’d lost interest in everything around him. The spark that had once lit him from within was gone. It was my job to put it back.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, and watched his Adam’s apple bob. Whatever he’d expected me to say, it wasn’t that. “I’m so desperately sorry and sick for it all.”

He nodded after a moment, a slight, almost imperceptible move, but it was enough.

“Sorry for what, Olivia?” Rena prodded softly, and I shook myself, clearing my throat.

“For what I’m about to say,” I said, and turned to address the whole room. “The virus. I know how it’s being spread.”

“It’s not just by those who watched the fireworks, is it?” Micah sat up so straight he was almost out of his chair. I didn’t add insult to injury by making him ask me any more, instead plowing forward and running myself under with my own explanation.

“Initially it was. But it’s sexual in nature. It’s transferred from an infected carrier by touch, through sex…through kissing.” I glanced again at Hunter, whose face had fallen, a look of betrayal haunting the glassy indifference in his eyes. “That’s why most people are dying in pairs. That’s why there’s no differentiation in sex or sexual orientation or race. Everyone wants to be loved. But for those who touch someone who already has the virus, it’s a need that will kill them.”

“Of course. The three distinct areas,” Micah said, aloud but to himself. “How could I not see it?”

“That’s why the deaths have been spread all across the valley,” Gregor said, “and why it’s usually not spouses who find the victims.”

“Except for one small thing,” Chandra said, and I fell silent. I’d been expecting it, but still had to control a shudder when she pointed to Hunter. “Him.”

“You mean because he’s not dead,” I clarified.

“Exactly.”

Felix said, “Well, maybe it’s because he’s a full-fledged star sign, and so he’s protected from infection whereas a mortal or an initiate like Marlo wasn’t.”

I saw Hunter flinch, and decided to end his guilt before it could sink in any deeper. Even if it meant that guilt was transferred firmly onto my shoulders. “No,” I said, and all eyes returned to me. “Hunter would’ve died along with Marlo, except he was immune as well.” And here I swallowed hard. “He gained immunity before the virus was released.”

There was silence as I let them work this out for themselves, and of course Hunter’s expression cleared first. After all, he was the only one around when I’d kissed him in the labyrinth. The others, feeling the shift of emotion, followed my gaze to him. I didn’t think his face could drain of any more color, but it had, leaving his skin looking waxen.

“You,” he whispered.

“Me,” I nodded, and a gasp rose up in the room.

“I’m confused,” Vanessa said, looking from Hunter to me and back again. Riddick and Jewell nodded mutely, and Felix’s head was tilted. He was still working it out. I glanced at Micah and Gregor, though, and could see that the older troop members had gotten it. Warren’s expression was fully closed. His reaction would be a few minutes in coming. Unable to take anything back, I filled in the time, explaining.

“I passed the immunity on to Hunter before the night of the fireworks. It’s the only reason he’s still alive. But Regan called me on my cell phone that night. She wanted to make sure I was watching the fireworks. The virus was what they were really celebrating at Valhalla.”

I looked at Warren and swallowed hard. “You were right. I underestimated her. I let her live because she was an initiate, but I played right into her hands. We’ve all been wondering why the Shadows aren’t active in the mortal realm right now, why they haven’t been for the past six months, but it was because they didn’t need to be. After all, why risk their hides individually when they had a weapon that could wipe us all out?”

Not one of them spoke or moved, and only one was still looking my way. Hunter hadn’t moved, and his eyes were cutting me with laserlike precision. “I’m the one responsible for Marlo’s death. Not you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, now you’re sorry?” Warren’s voice was low, but he’d risen from his chair and looked taller than his middling height. “Now that disease has entered our home, our haven…you’re sorry?”

I nodded mutely. I was sorry. And I knew it wasn’t good enough. Besides, I was about to make it worse. “One more thing…”

“What was that?” Warren demanded, his sharp voice a stark contrast to my half-swallowed words. I knew he’d heard-they all had-but he wasn’t going to let me slide through this admission, and I was almost glad of it. I could bring back the scent of charred anise by just visualizing Marlo’s smiling face.

“I said there’s one more thing you all need to know,” and my voice was stronger, almost challenging. “The fireworks weren’t just a celebration. I was in the boneyard, and I saw them. I smelled what was in them. I was there when the virus became-”

“Airborne.” Micah looked at me, horror widening his eyes.

And I’d been standing on the highest platform in the boneyard, watching while dust and disease rose up around me. I’d answered a phone call from Regan.

You see the fireworks, don’t you? she’d asked.

I see them.

Good…we’re already in.

I looked again into every face in the room, and this time horror stared back at me. I swallowed hard. “I carried the virus back with me. Every breath I’ve taken since that day has been infecting everyone around me. I’m-”

“Don’t you dare,” Warren interrupted again, but this time his tone was dangerously low. He advanced on me, and I took a step back. “Don’t say you didn’t know or that you’re sorry. There are no excuses for…for this!” He held up his hand, and I saw where his fingertips had been burned when he’d tried to clear Marlo’s mouth of an obstruction that was both burning and choking her. That obstruction was her tongue.

“Wait, wait!” Micah stood, holding up his hands. “We don’t know for sure that we’re all infected. Maybe Felix is right. Maybe full-fledged star signs can’t be affected.”

“But the children,” Rena said, hand fluttering helplessly to her chest, then her mouth, then back to her chest. If she’d had eyes, they’d be fixed on me just as accusingly as Warren’s were.

I sighed, weariness overtaking me suddenly. I needed this to be over now. “Riddick, will you come here?”

He frowned, but didn’t move. I smiled wryly and motioned him forward. “I promise. I won’t even touch you.”

Warren gave his consent with a stiff jerk of his head, and only then did Riddick rise to stand at my left side, though I noted he didn’t come too close. That was fine because I then crossed the room, bending to whisper in Jewell’s ear. She didn’t jerk away, for which I was grateful, but a look of surprise bloomed on her face, followed by a fast and furious blush. She glanced up at me as I straightened, then nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

Acutely aware that every eye was on her, she went to stand at Riddick’s side. She didn’t touch him, not even when she cupped a hand to his ear, but when she told him to close his eyes, he did. And when she said the rest of what I’d instructed her-things I knew she’d wanted to say to him for a while now; how much she was attracted to him, how his body and mind moved her, how she dreamed of him when alone at night-a slim wisp of smoke escaped his parted lips, evidence of the disease rising to curl about him like an entranced cobra…and all in the room gasped as one.

Jewell backed up against the wall, her hand covering her mouth in horror. Riddick’s eyes flew open, catching on one shocked face after another. “What?”

No one answered. I turned slowly and faced Warren. “The disease is dormant until sexual contact, any one of you, save Hunter, will die from just one kiss.”

For a moment he didn’t move. Then he advanced on me, his limp pronounced, and his mouth drawn in a thin, sharp line. An image of a blood-splattered machete slashing through the air, over and over again, rocketed through my mind, and I began to shake where I stood.

“I am sorry,” I whispered again, and got a brief flash of understanding from his storm-dark eyes before they shuttered again. Then his face took on the aspect of a squall brewing in the middle of the sea. His whole face sank into the storm erupting inside him, and his fists bunched and released, lips worked, not getting anything out…until he did. “Get out.”

And even though I’d been prepared for that-even though I knew I was lucky that was all the leader of the Zodiac troop did, and demanded of me-I was still numb as I made my way to the launchpad. I’d already successfully retrieved the disks from my locker, and stashed my bags where I’d left my satchel a week earlier. What I wasn’t prepared for was for Warren to follow me up the chute and wordlessly strip me of the mask that would allow me to re-enter the sanctuary.

Then he returned inside, leaving me to make the crossing on my own.

I shook as I waited, like some refugee victim who knew she was alive, but wasn’t sure how…or even if she wanted to be. And when I felt dusk silently settle over the boneyard, I went ahead and created another breach in the wall, stepped through it one final time, and returned to the mortal reality. Warren, I knew, would be along shortly to shore up the fissure I’d made, but that would be out of habit. There’d be no breach of the boneyard’s wall from the Shadows now. Why should there be? They were already in.

While I was on the outside. Alone.