Alexis
“What’s got your panties in a twist?”
It’s harder than usual to keep the look of distaste off my face in front of Harris, especially when he’s acting like this. Which is all the time.
“What?” He asks with an eye roll. “Why do you look so unhappy to see me? You were the one who came to visit me, or do I have to remind you?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to be awake,” I mutter sharply.
“Wow,” Julian says with a dry chuckle. “You would rather I still be in a coma?”
“To be completely honest, yes.”
"You could at least pretend.”
“No thanks.”
I glance over Julian in the stretcher. His shoulder is bandaged up but the surgery was successful, so was the transfusion. He’ll be fine. It was stupid even coming by to check on him.
“So why are you really here?” He hums, folding a strip of paper into a small origami plane. He smoothens the lines into crisp edges, licks the tip to a point. “Because God knows you don’t actually give a shit about me.” Harris aims and throws the plane, sending it soaring across the room, right into the trash can where his other planes are scattered and discarded.
I push myself back to my feet.
“This was a stupid idea. I’m leaving.”
“Woah, why?”
“Do I need a reason? I hate you. You hate me.”
“You say that but you’re the first and only person to visit me since I woke up.”
Julian’s eyes are unbothered, his mouth scrunched in a concentrated frown as he folds his next plane. But the silence speaks volume.
“Aiden would have,” I find myself saying. The second I do, I find myself wishing I hadn’t. Because then I remember that he’s not here. Because I fucked it up, all of it.
“Why is everyone doing that?” Julian asks with a scoff.
“Doing what?”
“Saying that shit. Aiden this and Aiden that like he’s dead or something. Is he dead?”
“No,” I sigh languidly. “He’s not dead.”
“So stop fucking moping. It’s pathetic and annoying. He just left. That’s all. Who gives a shit?”
“I really don’t believe you’re that heartless. You really don’t care that he’s gone? That he might be headed straight toward his own suicide?”
“Why should I?” Harris asks, folding the final edge on the paper plane. He balances it on his fingers, tests the weight of it. “If he wants to kill himself and make a stupid choice, that's his choice. It's not my problem. He left us, after all. So don’t try to involve me with that shit.”
Julian says it nonchalantly, his tone light, almost bored. But his eyes shift from the plane toward the hallway and back to the mirror, almost anxious. Or hurt. I know he’s lying.
“Whatever. You’re a fucking hypocrite,” I mumble before heading to the door.
“Wait, Alexis-” he says. I don’t know why I pause. I shouldn’t. It isn’t like me to.
“What?” I sneer.
“Just-” he sighs, rubbing the space between his brows harshly. The exhaustion on his face ages him significantly. He suddenly looks ten years older, maybe more. “-tell Emi I said thanks.”
“Tell her yourself, asshole.” I don’t wait for his snide remark; I leave before he can say another word.
My phone is burning a hole in my pocket. I’m tempted to call him, leave an explanation at least. But what fucking good will that do? It won’t bring him back. It won’t change his mind.
There’s an anger deep in my bones that’s beginning to rot. How fucking dare that son of a bitch. Finch. I’m going to kill him. I’ll find a way to get back to him and take care of it myself. I’ll pry a gate open if I have to.
I never should have believed a single word he said. I was so obsessed with Atlas that I wasn’t thinking straight. I pushed Aiden away and convinced myself it was for his safety. But all this time I was just a coward. I was only afraid that he’d see the real me and run away.
And look where that got me.
Maybe my real gift is fucking things up so incomparably beyond recognition. God, Harris was right. I’m insufferable like this. I’m sick of my own sulking.
I’m on my way to the training room to turn my anger into fuel when my pocket begins to vibrate. I pause midstep when I pull out my phone and check the caller ID. Finch.
I’m tempted to smash my phone into the cave-like walls. I pick up instead.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand,” I seethe into the receptor. His laugh is dark, song-like. It makes me want to snap his neck. No, that would be far too forgiving. His death will be far slower. Far more painful. It will follow him into death.
“Need I remind you, Redwing, who has the upper hand here? Your threats are empty. That church you’re hiding in, however, is full. Quite full.”
My blood begins to boil beneath my skin. I swallow it, painful as it is. I cannot act rash, not now and not here. Finch is not one to bluff. I don’t bother asking how he found our location. I know he has eyes and ears everywhere. I’m proof of that.
“What do you want?”
“A friendly chat. The usual spot.”
“No,” I say, plainly. I expect him to scowl, lash out in anger. All Finch does is laugh, the putrid sound grainy over the phone receiver.
“I can always count on you to be predictable, Redwing. Some things never change. But I wasn’t talking about you.”
A bitter chill crawls along the back of my neck. I know he’s testing me, toying with me, even. He’s steps ahead of us, miles ahead, and he knows it.
“Who?” I snap, feigning a growl in my voice.
“The girl. The clairaudient. The one who broke through Bluetail's safeties. Bring her to me.” Joan Wu? He found out that quickly who breached Lambert's wards? How?
“No.”
“Need I remind you of the state of our bargaining, Red?”
“You do not.”
“And still you resist. A church is an anthill compared to a city. And still a city is just a mound in a sandpit. Hm?” His threats are not empty, that I know. But I can’t do this. I can’t just give him what he wants. But I can’t endanger the lives of everyone here either. What would Aiden do if he were here?
God I wish I knew.
“She’s in a coma. She’ll be of no use to you.”
“Oh I know,” Finch says smugly. I can hear his smirk in his tone. “I put her there.” The anger in me turns sour. It’s all crashing inside me like ocean waves. Violent and deadly and then stilled. Stagnant. Exhausted.
"You put her there,” I echo slowly. “What have you done?”
“What I had to do. To protect our secret. Are you aware what could have happened if she found out about us?”
“Why the hell do you need her?” I ask, failing to keep the rage inside. It’s been years since I’ve lost control. But right now, I struggle to keep my gift – my curse – from breaking loose. The lights above my head flicker, groaning softly as they do. The shadows in the halls all watch, stretch their limbs toward me. Waiting for me to breathe life back into the darkness.
I need to hold it together.
“Unimportant. You have one month to bring her to me. Awake.”
“How do I wake her up? How do I get to the Alloy with no open gate?”
“Figure it out, Red. You’re smart.”
“And if I don’t?”
“We both already know what will happen. Don’t we? Wonderful chat. See you in a month.”
The line clicks and hums once Finch hangs up the phone. I’m left in an empty hallway, staring at my distorted shadow on the walls as the lights flicker. Watch it stare back at me, waiting for control.
I shudder, inhale slowly and deeply. Keep your cool, Alex. You’re the authority, not it. The ghost of Aiden’s hand lingers on my shoulder, an absent warmth on my skin, always reminding me of his nearness. But he isn’t. He isn’t here.
I’ve made it my whole life on my own. So why is his absence so gut-wrenching?
My shadow’s cheeks lift in a grin too wide to reflect a human’s. Because, it whispers into my ear. He was the only one who saw you as something other than a monster. I shudder, cover my hands over my ears like that would make the voices in my head stop. Control. I’m in control. I’m in control.
“Alexis?”
My head whips to the right where a familiar figure stands hesitantly toward the end of the hallway. I know it’s Amy. But, from this distance, she almost looks like Neriah. Or maybe insanity has finally clawed its way to the surface of my mind.
A wave of heat washes over me as a sob lodges itself in my throat. This time I can’t bite back the tears. This time I sink to the floor with my head in my lap.
The lights flicker off all together as something dies in my chest. Like an old dam finally breaking under all the pressure. I expect Amy to turn and run. In fact, I want her too. But she kneels down next to me, rests a hand on the shoulder opposite of Aiden’s ghost. And it tears me apart.
“Shh, it’s ok,” she says softly. Even though it isn’t. Even though there’s a high possibility nothing will ever be ok again. We both know it.
What is strength but a denial of emotions?
I envy the weak. They have courage, a bravery I cannot muster.
Even now I fight for control, fight for the illusion of it.
“Alexis,” Amy says. “Tell me what happened.”
“No,” I say sharply, my voice oddly stable despite the tears I desperately wipe away.
“I’ve heard everyone else’s side. But not yours. I need to know what happened.”
I shake my head. Through my bleary eyesight and the darkness washing over us, I see the conviction in her eyes, bright and determined. I am unworthy of such a look, of trust and belief. Instructor or not.
“You’re better off believing them. They’re right about all of it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well you should,” I snap. She doesn’t recoil like I expect her to. Instead she grips my shoulder tighter.
“Please,” she begs, her words so delicate they barely leave her lips. Up close, somehow, I see a piece of Aiden in her. Just enough for me to crumble. Entirely. And how could I say no?
I do my best to steady my breaths, focus on bringing myself back. But I can’t. Not alone, not anymore.
But I have to. I have to. So when I feel the shadows crawling down my throat – when I am reminded of the very first time I took a drink of the black mirror – I pretend I don’t. This is the only strength I know.
“Aiden’s gone. He left. I chased him away.”
“Start from the beginning,” she nudges. And I do.
And I don’t let another tear escape my lashes.
This is the only strength I know.
***
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