Edyn (The Essence Project Book 1) Read online

  Her voice was low, "They’ll be here any second now. Jophiel left that for me in case you came back. They may have beaten me and wrecked my home, but while they waited for you to come home, we had a nice little chat and both agreed you needed to be taken for the greater good."

  I backpedaled and knocked my elbow on the doorway.

  "Good riddance, you little bitch. Now, I have a funeral to plan for appearance’s sake. Tell your father I said Hello."

  One heartbeat.

  Two heartbeats.

  Bang.

  The front door was kicked open down the hall, and I could hear them shouting.

  "She’s in here!" my mother yelled.

  Run!

  I had to force my feet to move. Shock was trying to control my every limb over this latest, and ultimate rejection from my mother, but I fought through it. I tore further down the hallway and through the door to my mother’s sewing room. Fumbling with the latch on the window, I let out a yell as the door hit the wall behind me. I turned and saw two soldiers dressed from head to toe in black, a gold "E" on their sleeves. Each man was holding what appeared to be an assault rifle. Without thinking, I pulled back my elbow and drove it through the glass. Shards sliced through my skin, and I cursed under my breath, wishing I hadn’t left my jacket back with Ryker despite the stifling heat above ground.

  The men were moving towards me, and I threw myself through the window. I could feel broken glass clawing at my face, my arms, my legs as I hit the ground and rolled. Coming to my feet in one swift motion, I was off like the shots that rang out behind me. I ducked my head as I ran, thinking how stupid that was and that it likely wouldn’t help, but I kept going. Fire sang through my right arm, and I cried out as a bullet found its mark.

  My steps didn’t falter but for a second though.

  I have to get back underground.

  Quickly going through the mental map in my head, I realized the Arts Center station was still the closest port of entry for me to get back to the Circle. I looked over my shoulder and saw one of the men on foot chasing me. When I turned my head back around, I saw the black van screeching towards me. He didn’t seem to care if he hit me or not, and I threw my arms out as I tried to dodge it. My left palm made contact, and I only noticed at the last second that it was glowing against the shiny black paint. The metal of the hood buckled under my touch, and the van stopped in its tracks. The soldier flew through the windshield, showering me with more glass. I hesitated for a moment, but my feet overrode that decision and kept carrying me as far away as I could get. Looking over my shoulder as I ran, I saw the soldier that had been chasing me on foot crouching over his comrade, his eyes wide with terror as he watched the ever growing distance between us.

  My hair whipped around my face as I ran and looked as if it was on fire. The glow with the red was scary.

  No wonder he looked so terrified.

  I must look like a monster.

  My feet kept going, and soon I hurled myself through the doors at the Art Center Station. I flew down the stairs and found myself illuminating the tunnel I was in. Luckily, the tunnel was empty, and I stopped to lean against the wall and catch my breath. The cold rock felt good against my back. My whole body was ablaze with light, and I could feel its heat coursing through every cell.

  How do I turn this off?

  I have to turn this off before anyone sees me.

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to steady my heart rate and to try and think.

  "How am I going to stay away from them forever?" I whispered into the darkness looming just beyond me.

  When I opened my eyes, my glow was already fading.

  Good.

  I started walking, slowly, back towards our end of the tunnels. Grateful that I’d paid attention, I thought about Ryker’s hand in mine as we walked along these tracks.

  Ryker.

  He was probably still back in that abandoned building, and in spite of everything, I was still uncertain about all he'd told me. I realized that this was the first time I'd glowed when he wasn't around. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with him after all.

  I wonder if I can find Stella.

  She had been so scared when she saw me this morning, but maybe she’d had time to calm down and wouldn’t reject me too.

  I walked along for a while, realizing I had no clue where she even lived, so I decided to head to her salon on the off chance that she was there. My glow was gone long before I reached our area, so I started to relax a little.

  When I reached her salon, I saw that the lights were off, and any hope instantly deflated. I slumped on the bench outside the door and put my head into my hands. All out of ideas, I wondered if anyone would notice if I just stayed on the bench until whenever she decided to come to the salon. The only problem with that was Ryker might find me first.

  "Are you alright, dear?" a voice asked.

  I looked up to see an elderly woman about five feet tall. She was a round little thing with a pleasant look on her face.

  "Y—yes," I stammered.

  "Are you looking for Stella?" she asked.

  I nodded. "I was hoping she would be here."

  "She’s at home, do you know where she lives?"

  "No, Ma’am, I don’t."

  Her lips spread into a warm smile. "I’m her aunt Marie. Come on," she said. "I’ll take you to her."

  I felt a weight leaving me, and in its place fatigue took hold as I stood up. "Thank you. I’ve heard her mention you before."

  Marie laughed. "Well I did raise her after her parents died. I’m her grandmother’s sister, so I’m her great aunt really, but I don’t like to worry about such silly things."

  I felt some relief walking along with Marie, and after turning down a series of tunnels, we stopped outside a black door. On the door in gold paint was the design of a sunflower and the words: All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.

  Marie knocked on the door and said, "I know she’s home, I just left here, but I’d better run along. It’s nice to meet you." And with that, her little feet pitter-pattered away.

  I turned back to the door just in time to see Stella open it and peer out at me. Her eyes went wide when she saw me and her mouth fell open slightly.

  "Hi Stella," I said meekly.

  "What are you doing here?"

  I fought back tears that started filling my eyes again. Not wanting to cry in front of her, I closed them and said, "I don’t have anywhere else to go."

  She sucked in a breath. "My God, is Ryker…?" She couldn’t finish her question.

  "No, no he’s fine. I just…" I didn’t know how to put it.

  Stella seemed to know exactly what I meant. "He told you didn’t he? About his past?"

  I hiccupped stupidly and nodded.

  Sighing, she said nervously, "Okay, come in. Just don’t freak out and kill me. Deal?"

  "Promise," I said with a strained smile.

  Stella opened the door and let me in to her small apartment. It was similar in layout to Ryker’s, only it looked like the dressing room of a Broadway show. There were brightly colored fabrics draped over everything, and you might have thought someone had slaughtered a unicorn in this room. Glitter was everywhere.

  "Holy cow. What the Hell happened to you?" she asked and led me over to a hot pink velvet chaise lounge.

  "Long story. I don’t want to get blood all over your stuff though," I said. "Where did you get it all anyway?"

  She glanced around. "Most of it’s from Topside thrift stores. Here, sit," she said. "I can get blood out of anything, I’m not worried. Plenty of experience after doctoring all Ryker’s wounds the last few years. Let me get you some water." Walking to the sink in her small kitchen, she asked, "So, what did he tell you?"

  I sighed, not particularly wanting to think about it. Exhaustion was trying to consume me, but I thought that maybe talking about it would keep me awake. I recalled everything Ryker had told me before I'd left, not knowing how to word
it but providing as much detail as I could.

  Stella came back and handed me a turquoise plastic cup with rhinestones around the bottom. "Well that’s a very brief version of things," she said. "Did he tell you about before his first fight? About all that his father did?"

  I shook my head and took a sip of water.

  "Well, I suppose if he wants to kick my ass for telling you stuff, then he can. He started it." She sighed. "His father always beat him as a kid. He would always make sure not to leave marks anywhere visible, but Ryker told me he broke a rib more than a few times. One day, when Ryker was fourteen, he’d finally worked up the nerve to stand up to him. When Samuel came in with a sawed off broom handle one afternoon, Ryker was ready for him and knocked him off his feet. He got in a couple of good punches before Samuel got him upside the head with the broom handle. Samuel told him,‘If you want to fight back, you can go and fight for your life,’ and took him down to the Pits the next day. He expected Ryker to die, or at the very least lose his Essence to teach him a lesson. When Ryker won, his father just got worse. He started beating him more often and in different ways, always telling him it was for ‘training’ to make him tougher to beat."

  "How could anyone do that to their own child?" I asked, before remembering what my mother had done this afternoon.

  "He’s a heartless Insentient with a whole stash of squandered souls, but it was never enough. He gets off on other people’s pain. So he would keep putting Ryker in fights in the Pits and raising the stakes. It didn’t take Ryker long to become a legend down there. At sixteen he’d already killed twelve men that were all twice his size. Worst injury he ever got down there was a broken wrist, and his father even made him keep fighting while it healed. By the time I met him, I’d seen him fight a few times. Like I said, he’s a legend. Guys are terrified of him, and all the girls that know him want to do him."

  I took another drink of water. "So how did you meet him?"

  Stella giggled. "It was pretty funny actually, I’d gotten dragged along to the Pits to watch some of the fights with some friends and we saw one of his. He got his brow busted open right before he broke a guy’s neck with one punch to the jaw. I’d always thought he was hot, and my friends dared me into talking to him after his fight. It was a stupid thing really, but I went up to him after and offered to patch up his face. He let me, and we just got to talking, and things kind of went from there. I could tell the first time I talked to him that he didn’t want to be that person. He has a tortured soul, and I wanted to be the one to save him. It took a couple years though to get him to where he is now."

  Stella tucked her hair behind her ears. "Fighting was like a drug to him. He was addicted to it. It took a long, long time to break that addiction. After every fight he would come back to my place and just break. He hated it, and hated himself. Living with all that blood on his hands wasn’t something he could handle very well, and I can’t say I blame him. Two years ago, things got really bad. He started fighting more frequently again, and before one fight against a pretty tough opponent, he told me not to come and watch. I did anyway, and until he saw me, he was just standing there letting this guy go to town on him. There wasn’t any part of him left in there. I couldn’t handle seeing that, which was why he told me to stay away, but I screamed at him. As soon as he saw me, he started fighting the guy, and snapped his neck like it was nothing. When I got him back to my apartment, I found the note he’d left me. He didn’t want to live anymore and was planning to just let the other guy kill him."

  I couldn’t imagine Ryker so shattered, couldn’t imagine that burden he was carrying.

  "I made him stay with me for a while before I would let him go home. I was worried he would try to kill himself again. Seeing him like that was a first. I told him, though, that anyone could find redemption, and that seemed to spark something in him. He found an old bible and started reading it endlessly. He didn’t fight again for about eight months after that, and he only fought when he had a friend that needed subbed out like Zak did today. He’s still tormented, and I don’t think he’ll ever be able to forgive himself completely. Hell, I don’t know if I would be able to if I were in his position. He’s a lot better than he was, but I don’t know that he believes he can be forgiven for all that."

  I didn’t know what to say. It wasn't surprising that he hadn't told me all of that, but it shed a new light on who he was. He'd been so guarded, but it shocked me that he could think of himself as a monster after all he'd endured.

  "I’ve done the best I could think of to help him, but you did something to him that I never could."

  Staring at her, I asked, "What have I done for him?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Edyn, he loves you. That’s done more for him than anything. He used to talk about you all the time, too."

  "He did?"

  She laughed. "Yes. It got kind of annoying actually. He used to talk about this skinny little neighbor girl that he just always felt a pull toward. I think the first time his spirit was ever really broken was after the snake bit you, and he thought you died. He told me he blamed himself for not getting help sooner, for not seeing the snake in time, for not getting bit instead of you. He would run all these scenarios through his head and say,‘If only I had done this differently maybe she’d still be alive’."

  "That’s stupid. There wasn’t anything he could’ve done differently," I said.

  "I know, that’s what I told him. Y’all were just two little kids. The first time I talked to him after he got you out of Samuel’s, and you were doing better though, it was like he’d gotten a new lease on life. He was a different person, a person I’d never seen. He was the one I had always hoped to make him." Sadness threatened to take over her face, but she waved it away. "But, I guess the universe had other plans. Now, enough about that. Your turn to talk about you."

  "What about me?"

  Stella looked at me like I was crazy. "For real? About this whole lighting up like a freaking Christmas tree and shocking people thing."

  "Oh," I dropped my gaze to my lap. "I don’t know what it is. It just started recently. It just happens. I can’t control it."

  "Hmm." She was studying me. "Well, I have to admit, you look pretty freaking badass when your hair is on fire, although I take some credit for that, even if you are terrifying. I didn’t know what the Hell was happening. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I wonder if we should get you some gloves or something. Can you shock people through fabric do you think?"

  Now it was my turn to look at her like she was crazy. She was actually enjoying this a little bit.

  "Yeah, I don’t think gloves would do anything."

  "Well," she said again, "I guess we’ll just have to figure out what your trigger is so you can try and control it. You said it just started happening recently?"

  I nodded.

  "Well Ryker happened recently. Maybe your trigger is tied to him?"

  I thought about it for a moment. "All the times I’ve done it, I’ve been with him except this last time earlier today."

  "What happened then?"

  I told her about Jophiel trying to get ahold of me and my mother trying to give me to him. Then I told her about the van trying to hit me, and how I had damaged it with just my hand.

  "Wow," she said. "You’re like, freaking Superwoman or something."

  "Somehow," I said with a touch of laughter, "I doubt that."

  "No, really. It’s kind of cool now that I know you’re not going to go off like a bomb and kill us all."

  I shook my head and sighed out loud. Stella was excellent at lightening the mood.

  "So what about Ryker? Where is he now?" she asked.

  "I don’t really know," I answered. "We hid out in this old brewery, and then I ran after he told me everything."

  "You what?"

  "Well it was a lot to process all at once!"

  Stella threw her hands in the air. "Edyn! He just killed another guy in another fight and you ran out on him? This is the
last situation where he needs to be alone!"

  "How was I supposed to know that?"

  Stella sighed. "I’m going to run over to his apartment and see if he’s come home yet. I’m sure as soon as he realized you were gone he panicked, and he’d probably check there for you first. You stay here. People have been talking about you after this morning, even this far south. It would probably be better for you to not be seen right now." She jumped up and headed to the door. "I’ll be back soon, I promise. First aid kit’s under the sink in the bathroom."

  The door slammed behind her, leaving me all alone in her apartment.

  11

  A fter showering and taking care of my countless wounds, I rummaged through Stella’s closet for some clean clothes. Her closet was nothing short of miraculous. She had more clothes than I’d ever seen. She had tops of every color and style imaginable. Pinks and golds and blues and blacks. She had clothes to fit any mood. Clothes to be light and happy, others that were dark and intense looking. There was a whole entire section of her closet devoted to short sparkly party dresses, and I wondered if she ever wore any of them. She had clothes made of fabric I had never seen before.

  Surely she wouldn’t care if I borrowed some.

  The clothes my mother made at her job and would bring home were drab and dull compared to all of these.

  I found a black fitted t-shirt with flecks of gold woven throughout and slits in the sleeves, and a pair of midnight-blue colored skinny jeans. Not bothering to put my boots back on yet, I walked back to the pink chaise lounge barefoot, my wet hair dampening the collar of the shirt.

  Looking at the clock, I realized I had spent over an hour in the bathroom between my shower and practicing my nursing skills. I plopped down on the pink velvet, wondering where Stella was, where Ryker was, and if he was alright.

  What if something happened to him while he was looking for me?