Edyn (The Essence Project Book 1) Read online

  A pack of thick, black zip ties.

  13

  I fought against both Stella and Zak both, but they were on me before I could even stand up out of my chair. I managed to leave claw marks across Stella’s face though, and I couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction from that at least. They bound my hands together behind the chair too tightly, and I could feel the sharp edge of the plastic cutting into my skin. After jumping out of the chair again, they decided to add another zip tie to connect me to it. During the struggle, Ryker’s bible and journal fell to the floor beside me.

  I willed myself to light up, drawing from the shock and rage flooding through me, but no light came.

  "What the fuck?" I yelled.

  Stella was dabbing at the blood on her cheek with a paper towel, her eyes burning with rage mixed with a touch of fear. She turned to Zak, and said "Go ahead and knock stuff over, make a mess. Make it look like a big struggle." He headed towards the coffee table, and she added, "But try not to break too much stuff. I don’t want to have to replace everything. It just needs to be convincing."

  Zak carefully laid the table on its side.

  "Stella, what the Hell are you doing?" I asked, knowing the shock had crept into my voice.

  "Protecting Ryker," she spat. "Thank you at least for this," she said, indicating to where my nails had broken her skin open. "This will make it more realistic."

  "How could you?" I was shaking, fear, betrayal, and anger all consuming me completely. I thought she was becoming my friend.

  "You’re going to kill him," she said. "Or get him killed trying to protect you. They’re never going to stop hunting you, and he’s going to die trying to save you. I’m not about to let you do that to him."

  "You don’t think he’s going to come after me? You don’t think he’s going to do everything he can to find me?"

  She shook her head as we could hear something shatter from her room, and she sighed. "No, I’m going to tell him that they killed you in the struggle, but took your body with them for research. He won’t come looking."

  I stared at her for a moment, open mouthed. "You will be the one to kill him," I spat at her. "If he thinks I’m dead… He won’t be able to handle that. It’ll destroy him."

  She laughed, although this time it wasn’t the musical laugh I’d come to expect from Stella. This was cold, menacing. "He’ll be upset for a while, sure, but I’ll be here to take care of him, and eventually he’ll forget all about you. Things will go back to how they were, how they should be."

  "But he doesn’t love you. He never loved you any more than a friend."

  She got into my face as I heard something else breaking from within her bedroom. "Don’t you get it? I’m not going to sit around watching you get him killed. I’m the one that’s been here the last seven years. I’m the one he’s cried with at night after he kills. Me. Not you."

  My head was spinning. I couldn’t wrap my brain around this, but I didn’t have time to try as the front door was kicked open.

  "Jesus, guys! Was that really necessary? You could’ve knocked!" Stella shouted at the black clad men filing into the room, all heavily armed.

  There were five soldiers, and right in the middle of them was Jophiel.

  "It helps your side of the story, now doesn’t it?" he asked her. It was the first time I’d heard his voice since he was interrogating my mother, before I found my way to the Seventh Circle. It was unbelievably smooth, and low. His eyes scanned from her directly to me, and his mouth widened into a sickening grin. He was no doubt a handsome man, but you could see many secrets written all over his face, none of which seemed to be good. His golden hair was slicked back, and his bright green eyes shone with ferocity. He was around my age which surprised me. I had thought he was older, but before I had only seen hm from a distance.

  Jophiel turned his head just as Zak came back into the room. "Ahh, Zachariah. So good to see you again. You look well."

  Zak stiffened and gave one quick nod. "Jophiel."

  I struggled against the zip ties again and felt the blood running down my hands. How did they know each other?

  When I slammed my back against the chair in frustration, he laughed.

  "Now, now there’s no need for all of that," he said. "Hello, Edyn." His voice was dripping with a sweetness, like honey. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You haven’t made it very easy to find you."

  I refused to speak to him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  After a moment of awkward silence, he spoke. "Well then, let’s be on our way, shall we? We have a flight to catch. Dirk," he said to one of the soldiers standing next to him. "Pay them and grab the girl so we can go."

  Dirk stepped forward and produced a wad of cash from his pocket. He dropped it into Stella’s hand, and I saw that he was one of the men that was in my mother’s house. Crossing to me, he pulled out a knife.

  I tried to wriggle away from him, but he just cut the zip tie keeping me in the chair and laughed. "Let’s go," he barked, grabbing my wrists.

  I struggled again, and he lifted my arms up, threatening to break my shoulders. A cry of pain escaped my lips.

  "Don’t break her," Jophiel said to him, exasperation in his tone.

  "Sorry, Joph," he replied. Then he jabbed me in the back. "Move."

  "Please," I whimpered. "Let me bring that with me," I said, nodding in the direction of the bible and journal.

  Jophiel eyed me for a moment, thinking it over. "Alright," he said. "Dirk, grab it for her."

  Dirk scooped it up as I glanced at Stella, and saw her eyeing the money in her hand. She seemed to be a little unsettled though, as if she was conflicted about something. I had no time to dwell on what that meant before Dirk shoved me again and forced me through the broken front door behind Jophiel and two of the other soldiers. The rest of them fell behind us.

  We made our way quickly but slowly down the tunnel that led back to the Centriole. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I wouldn't let myself cry in front of them.

  Halfway across the Centriole, I glanced up at the sound of running footsteps and saw him, his jaw set and eyes full of rage.

  Ryker.

  The air was knocked out of me.

  He stopped in his tracks when he saw us, and his eyes found mine. Terror was ripping through him, and I knew he saw the same expression on my face. How would he survive this?

  "Let her go!" he growled, reaching for one of the guns.

  Jophiel laughed. "Not to point out the obvious, but how exactly are you going to stop us all by yourself?"

  Ryker didn’t say a word but took two steps towards us, lifting the gun.

  Before I could scream for him, before I could stop him, before I could protect him, another gun went off.

  Ryker dropped his gun and grabbed his stomach, before falling to the ground.

  I could feel the heat swarming inside of me, rushing to the surface, wanting to break free.

  "Noah, sedate her, quickly," I heard Jophiel’s voice was somewhere nearby, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from.

  I was blind with rage, and I could feel the power humming beneath my skin. My vision sharpened, and I was willing it to surge so that I could release my hold on it, when a needle plunged into my neck. I faltered. It was just enough to suppress the fire underneath.

  Hands were pushing me forward again, and I saw Ryker on the ground, clutching his stomach, his face contorted in agony. I tried to fight back to get to him, but I was rapidly weakening from the drugs.

  When we reached the tunnel that would take us to the nearest MARTA station, I turned to face Ryker again, and saw Stella kneeling in a pool of his blood, completely hysterical. She was screaming.

  He wasn’t moving.

  At that moment, something inside me fractured. The sight of his lifeless body lying there with Stella by his side broke me. I couldn’t fight back. I couldn’t escape. I became nothing.

  Thankfully, the sedatives welcomed me before I f
elt myself hit the ground.

  * * *

  Something in my gut told me that I would get used to being drugged before my life was over. I wondered how long it would take for me to get used to the fog that enveloped me when coming out of it. When I regained consciousness this time, I found myself seated on a small airplane, the guards seated all around me, and Jophiel facing me. They had removed the zip ties, but had handcuffed me in the front so at least I wasn’t leaning on my wrists. My hands were resting on Ryker’s bible and journal in my lap.

  It took me a few moments to remember what had happened, but as soon as I registered the leather bound books in my lap, panic seized me.

  "Ryker," I whispered as the tears began to fall, no longer caring if I cried in front of them. I looked at Jophiel. "Is he…?" I couldn’t say the words.

  Jophiel looked at me, his face expressionless. "It’s best to just move on from such unpleasantries."

  He’s gone. Oh my God, he’s gone.

  Whatever pieces were left of my heart turned to daggers of ice inside of me. I could feel the pain running rivers down my face, but I didn’t care. They had killed him. They killed him right in front of me.

  Oh my God. Oh my God.

  What did I have left now? Ryker was gone. I was all alone.

  I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He was gone.

  Gone.

  Gone.

  "Edyn," Jophiel had been speaking.

  I’d left my voice back in the Circle, so all I could do was glare at him.

  "Now that I’ve gotten your attention, would you please answer my question? Do you know why you’re here?"

  I didn’t respond.

  He sighed. "Edyn, you are on this journey because you are going to become an integral part of an important research project called the Essence Project. Some time ago, humans began being born without souls, as you know. Our job at the Project is to try and figure out the malfunction and reverse it. We’ve been collecting Quintessents for years trying to understand it all. Is it a genetic defect? Is it a disease? We’re trying to comprehend every aspect of souls so that we can hopefully prevent this issue in the future. Does that make sense?"

  I kept my lips clamped tightly together.

  "Over the last decade, we’ve determined that there are some Quintessents that are a little bit different than your normal garden variety. We have reason to believe that you are one such individual, and we have procured you to hopefully fill in some gaps for us."

  "Procure me?" I couldn’t hold back any longer. "Like I’m some animal? Some specimen? You killed Ryker!"

  Again, he sighed. "Yes, an unfortunate loss there. He was a Quintessent too, and had quite the collection of souls himself. Dirk," he said. "Remind me when we get back to headquarters to send a team back to Atlanta to see if we can’t extract that collection. It may prove useful."

  "Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?" I whispered.

  He was staring at me with such disgust that you might have thought I'd spat in his face. "Leave you alone? How could we possibly leave you alone when you might be the key to unlocking decades of research? Do you have any inclination of what it would mean if we could solve this global problem? Any at all?"

  All I could do was shoot daggers at him before turning away to gaze out the window. My fingers were stroking the bible on my lap absentmindedly. I could feel the plane start making its descent, and I wondered where we were going.

  "I’m hoping you’ll be cooperative. This is bigger than all of us."

  Releasing a cold laugh, I bored holes into him with my gaze and said bitterly, "Yeah, good luck with that."

  When I couldn’t bear to stare him down anymore, I closed my eyes and tried to will away the pain. Ryker’s face kept flashing in my mind, only to be replaced by Stella screaming over his still body. Images swirled in my head.

  I could see him laughing as he cooked for us in our small kitchen.

  I could see the pool of blood expanding around him.

  I could see his face, just inches from mine, eyes filled with so much love, and could almost feel his hands on my face.

  I could see his eyes closed and his hand falling limply away from the gunshot wound in his torso.

  I could hear someone screaming at the top of their lungs, sounding both far away and close at the same time.

  Hands were on me then, and I realized I was the one screaming. The anguish inside my very soul at the memory of Ryker was escaping my lips. Someone was shaking me, but I was locked away inside my own agony and beyond their reach.

  The second needle in my neck was a welcomed lullaby.

  * * *

  I could make out fluorescent lights lining the ceiling above me, and I felt my body floating along beneath them. Someone’s black clothed arms were carrying me, and my hands were still cuffed in front of me. I was too weak to fight or move, but I could hear the footsteps of others in the hallway with us. Then we stopped. I heard a beep and a click, and felt the whoosh of air surrounding me as a door opened.

  The soldier carried me into a small room with white walls and white floors. The only variations were the cold steel of the bed frame, the faucet on the sink, and a giant mirror that took up the width of the wall across from the bed on the right. The room couldn’t have been more than eight feet by six. It was an immaculate prison cell.

  I was carried to the bed and laid carefully down onto it. The soldier that had brought me retreated, and Jophiel loomed over me.

  "Rest," he said as he fitted a key into the handcuffs. "I’ll have some food brought for you in an hour."

  I rubbed my wrists as I sat up. His back was to me as he went to make his exit.

  "Wait," I called out, my voice hoarse. "My books?"

  He turned to me, a halfhearted apologetic smile creasing his mouth at one end. "Ah, yes. One moment." Walking outside for only a moment, he returned with the bible and journal in hand. "Would you like a pen as well?"

  I blinked at him.

  "For the journal?"

  I shook my head, knowing I could never change anything in those pages. It was all I had left of Ryker, and I wanted it to remain exactly as it was as long as I lived. My head started throbbing again as I fought back the tears before resolving to just let them flow.

  "I understand this must be hard for you," Jophiel said from the doorway. "My condolences for your loss. I will give you some time, but just know we do need to get started as quickly as possible."

  The door shut and the lock clicked into place. I was alone. Completely and utterly alone. There was no one left for me in the world, and the only one that had ever loved me remained solely in my memories and the pages before me. I hugged the leather close and curled up into a ball on the bed.

  The tears flowed more freely now, and began racking my whole body with sobs. I started wailing, and soon the wailing turned to screaming. I screamed until I felt like my throat was bleeding, thinking that perhaps it would shatter the mirror the way my heart had shattered.

  I screamed until I couldn’t anymore. After that, I prayed. I prayed for God to kill me right there on the spot. I prayed for him to kill Jophiel and the soldiers and send them to Hell for taking Ryker from me. Life wasn’t worth living anymore, not like this, not trapped here in some laboratory as an experiment, not in a world without Ryker.

  But…

  What if Jophiel had a point? What if whatever was happening to me could help others?

  I cursed myself for allowing the thought. Nothing was worth losing Ryker or myself over.

  Or was there?

  I noticed that the tears were falling more slowly now, not blurring my vision anymore. Taking a deep staggering breath, I sat up and leaned my back against the cold white wall. The cover of Ryker’s journal was wet so I wiped it on my shirt. My hands were shaking as I stared at it. I had no idea what it contained. Several times, I had seen Ryker lying in bed early in the morning writing in it when I woke up, but I had never asked him about it.

  Part of me
was terrified to open it. I had no clue what to expect, but I knew it had to be meaningful to him. I knew I had to read it.

  I closed my eyes as I let my hands slowly open the cover. The first page said: Volume 3 and was surrounded by a detailed sketched pattern of sharp lines and shadows. Always the artist, I thought. Turning the page, I saw that the lines were filled with black ink, all in Ryker’s scratchy handwriting. The edges of the pages were filled with more words and doodles. It was a beautiful mess of his thoughts.

  I heard a song today, and it summed up how I’m going crazy over you. You’re the only one who can save me, but you don’t even exist anymore.

  God, Edyn. Why?

  I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding my breath, until I subconsciously let it all out.

  How old was this?

  He hadn’t been lying, he really had always loved me.

  He had sketched a black rose underneath the words, a petal falling from the bloom. It was darkly beautiful. I turned the page, eager to read more. This helped me feel closer to him, almost as if he were still with me.

  I hate hurting her like this, but at the same time she helps heal me. I’m such a selfish bastard. Stella deserves better. I can never love her the way she needs to be loved, and yet I can’t turn her away when I just want that void inside of me to be filled. I know without a doubt that no one will ever be able to fill it, though. It was created just for Edyn, and she was stolen from me.

  I can’t tell if I’m going crazy or not anymore. God, speak to me! Let me hear you! I read and I read and I read your Word, but I still don’t feel what you say in there. I still feel alone. But why would you speak to someone like me? I know you say you will never leave nor forsake me, but surely there’s a limit to how much blood one person can have on their hands before you turn your back on them. Surely I’ve long since surpassed it. That’s why you’re not there.

  Am I crazy? Why do you keep sending her to me in my dreams? Is this my punishment? To be haunted by the memory of her, by what she would be like now? God, some nights I wake up in so much pain, that I never want you to show her to me in my dreams anymore, but part of me relishes in the pain since it’s the closest I’ll ever have to really knowing her.