Nil on Fire (6 page)

I'm failing her.

The thought made me furious. Where was my fighting chance? My fair shot? How the hell was I supposed to be her mental knight in shining armor when I'd no clue what I was fighting? We were pawns in a game without rules, or with rules we didn't know. I had the sick sense it was the latter. Nil-created, perhaps Nil-directed. A Nil tendril, in this world.

“Rives.” Skye's voice was quiet. “It's not your fault; if anything, it's mine, and not just because I've blocked you out. I think I go so far into the darkness that you can't hear me. So far that it pulls me in farther than I want, far enough to pull me away from you. For those few seconds, it wins.” She closed her eyes. “And that's when I scream, and you don't answer.”

Merde.

It was a nightmare reaching into the light, full of fangs and claws. If I could see it, I'd punch it in the face, beat it back. Beat it to death.

But I couldn't see it. And that was the problem.

I focused on the solution. On
Skye
. On what mattered.

“Skye, listen. This thing, this
darkness
, it doesn't win. Ever. You're in control. You're stronger than whatever the hell this thing is. Remember, it's in
your
head. And if you locked me out, you can lock the darkness out too, right?”

“I guess.” Skye didn't sound convinced. She sounded exhausted. She rested her head on my shoulder as I wove my fingers through hers.

“It's going to be okay,” I said adamantly. “We'll get through this, whatever this is. And if Nil did something to you, we'll work through it, together. That's why Nil gave us that gift, right? Our connection. So you don't have to do this alone, okay?”

“Okay,” Skye whispered. For a long moment she didn't speak. “I'm so tired, Rives. And I feel like I'm failing the girl. How can I help her if I don't know who she is?” Her steel-flecked eyes glittered behind a slight film of tears. Skye rarely cried. Only when she was angry or flat-out spent, and right now, I knew it was the latter.

She was beyond exhausted.

And the mystery girl was partially to blame. Maybe if we could get the nightmare chick to leave, she'd take the darkness with her and let Skye sleep.

“Try again,” I said suddenly. “Show me what the girl looks like. Now that you're not consciously keeping me out, maybe I can help. Two is always better than one, right?”

“Right.” She sat up straight and squared her shoulders, Skye-fierce. “Close your eyes,” she said. “I'm going to focus on the picture I have of her in my head. Don't think of the blackness, okay? Focus on the girl's voice. It's what works for me.”

I thought of Skye. Of her smile, her laugh, her passionate
I-will-take-you-down
look that she faced Nil with every damn day. I thought of the girl who made me want to breathe and live. The girl who took on the blackness in her head and gave it a cold shoulder.

I thought of
us
, of our connection. A golden thread linking us both.

The darkness washed through my head with a powerful iciness, pulling me deeper as I held Skye's hand in mine; our connection pulled taut, a potent thread that I couldn't see but could feel. A light flickered, like a bulb on the brink of failure. I focused, and it brightened into a beacon. Into a tunnel. No, a halo, a flash of blond. An outline. A face.

A girl. A voice.

No.

And I knew that voice.

I knew
her
.

A face flashed full and crisp, a high-def nightmare made real.

My eyes flew open; I couldn't breathe.
This is not happening.

“What?” Skye leaned close, her eyes full of hope. “Did you see her? Blond hair? Big eyes?”

“I saw her.” My voice sounded remote.

“You saw her,” Skye breathed in wonder. “She's real. So maybe we can save her.”

I shook my head. “We can't save her.”

“Why not?”

“Because she's already dead,” I said flatly. “I buried her, on Nil. Her name was Talla.”

 

CHAPTER

15

NIL

AFTER NOON

It would be so easy, the island marveled with delight, relishing what lay ahead. Their connection was so strong, so entwined, that breaking one would break the other. The island would shatter them both, a reward of two for the effort of one.

Perhaps it had been wrong to focus on her all these weeks. Perhaps
he
was the one to break.

The one who
would
break, the one who could be broken.

Yes
, the island reasoned, reviewing the history of the male, Rives. He'd nearly broken once, over a female, the one with electria so powerful it had taken all the island's restraint not to take her on her Day 1. How fun—and unexpected—to bring this male to the point of fracture again, to push him
beyond
. And this time, he would take the female, Skye, with him. Their connection would be their undoing.

Abruptly the island's focus shifted.

Like a scent on the wind, darkness called, demanding attention. Still reaching beyond the seam, the island pivoted toward another male, a different one with no connections worthy of interest. The stench of his pride tainted his soul, a window to the darkness within. There was always darkness, and the island was drawn to it. The island was drawn to
him
.

The gate caught him unaware.

He was easy to find, easy to take. He would be easy to manipulate.

The island trembled with the rush of new blood.

*   *   *

Ace woke slowly, disoriented.

Blood leaked down his cheek from where he'd scraped his face on the ground, but he didn't wipe it; he was too intent on his surroundings, fighting a slice of anger and a bigger wave of annoyance. He had plans for today and this detour wasn't a part of them.

He'd always hated surprises.

Ace hopped to all fours as he looked around. Charred ground surrounded him, unfamiliar and eerily quiet. Something terrible had happened here; he felt it.

Something that now involved him.

He had the freak thought that he'd brought this upon himself. After all, he'd just ratted out Mikey, a classic jerk move if there ever was one, but it wasn't Mikey's butt on the line now; it was Ace's. And technically, Mikey had taken the money. He was the muscle; Ace was the brains—and the beauty. His perfect abs were pure icing on the Ace cake, and girls loved it. Loved
him
.

Mikey had never had much of a backbone, and Ace had never had much of a conscience.

But damn, even if karma had kicked him here, this scene was messed
up
. And by the standards of his world, that was saying something.

Suddenly Ace knew.

Someone kidnapped me—to send a message to Dad.
Ace half smiled, knowing if that was the case, his dad would come bail him out—or send someone who would. His dad knew people. But first his dad would set things right, or make things right with the right people. Which meant, for now, Ace was on his own.

The breeze rustled at his back. He turned to find a blackened corpse resting a few feet away and he froze. Something had burned here, and some
one
. Even though it was long gone, he could practically smell the burned flesh. That scent wasn't new for Ace, but the lack of total control was.

I'm out
, he thought abruptly. He stepped quickly, moving away from the charred body and scorched earth, not sure where to go except away from death.
Never get your hands dirty
, his dad had taught him.

He left the dirty work to others—just like his dad.

And now his hands were coated in soot.

Ace frowned.

*   *   *

The island was so captivated watching the first male, it nearly missed the second. A rare mistake.

The second one whimpered.

He bled, too, christening island dirt with his DNA, weeping from a slash on his forearm. He'd landed out of sight of the first male, their view of each other conveniently blocked by the surviving thicket. Fresh blood pumped through the second male's veins, shock mixing with panic and pain.

The island breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of fear.

The second male cowered in the island breeze, retreating into himself as if he held the escape route inside, which, the island pondered, was not altogether untrue. The island examined this male carefully; it sifted through his thoughts, catalogued his reactions, isolated his fear. Like the first male, he had not seen the gate coming. Then he had been surprised; now, he was terrified. He did not move. His fear had shut down his reactions. At this rate, this male would perish before ever reaching anywhere close to his full potential, his true electria wasted.

A test, the island decided. To determine whether the second male had potential for growth, or whether his weakness was an inherent flaw too ingrained to change. It was illogical to wait to take power that would never develop. The test would begin, now.

The island breeze whipped in a new direction, blowing the scent of rotting meat toward the far corner of the meadow, along with the smell of fresh blood.

This male's blood.

Past the burn line, two heads pricked above the grasses. They sniffed once. Moving in tandem, the pair slunk forward. Acting on instinct, the hyenas parted ranks, cornering the injured male with predatory precision.

The male had yet to move, panic rendering him powerless. Still cowed in a frozen stance, his eyes flicked around, landing on the hyenas one heartbeat too late. Snarling, they attacked without mercy, a flash of fur and teeth and blood.

The male's last breath came quickly, his electria flowing from him to the island in a rush. He was no more, as if he had never been.

The island jerked with the surge of power, pleased.

*   *   *

The ground shook under Ace's feet, then stilled.

Earthquake?
he wondered. He glanced around.

To the east, what looked like a pair of hyenas were attacking something with gusto. He didn't know a single thing about hyenas, but interrupting any animal while eating was a bad call, so Ace quickly walked the other way. Every bone in his body screamed for him to run, but he didn't want to risk the hyenas making takeout of him. His pulse pounded in his ears, making it tough to think. And he needed a clear head to get out of the nightmare of whatever the hell this was.
Wherever
the hell this was.

But where and what didn't matter.

He'd thought his way out of every mess he'd ever been in; he just needed to find the right angle, the right mark. All Ace knew for certain was that it wasn't behind him.

Striding forward, Ace wondered where his clothes had gone. Same for his wallet full of cash. The loss of money pissed him off; he couldn't give a rat's ass about his jeans. He didn't care who saw him naked. He looked good without clothes and he knew it. But the money hurt.

He'd worked hard for that. Sort of.

He stopped, taken aback.

Ahead of him, a rhino snorted beside a small group of spindly trees. An elephant stood a football field's length to the right.
How in the world did I end up in Africa on a solo safari?
Someone was messing with him. His dad would be royally pissed.

Then Ace squinted. A girl stood on the black rock, looking like a
Sports Illustrated
vision in the flesh. Tube top over a nice rack, full hips covered by a tight skirt, caramel skin, long black braid, full lips. The knife in her hand was the perfect accessory.

Ace smiled, fear giving way to calculation.

*   *   *

As the new male strode toward the fighter, the island observed his posture, and his posturing. The fighter, Carmen, stood ready; she was observing too. She was the island's trophy; he was the toy.

The fun had begun.

Those beyond the seam could wait. They
would
wait, suffering as the seeds already planted took root, growing until they fractured the foundation. And the two beyond the seam would no longer be one.

The island would feel the moment when they broke, and would revel in it.

Until then, these two demanded the island's full attention. And they would have it.

 

CHAPTER

16

SKYE

JUNE 10, EARLY AFTERNOON

It's not every day you find out you're being haunted by your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. I guess today was my lucky day. The girl in the darkness was Talla, a girl Rives might have loved. A girl Rives had buried. And not only was I seeing Talla,
in my freaking head
, I was hearing her. She knew my name.

She knew
me
.

No wonder Rives looked so shaken. He was as pale as the clouds outside my window, his body unnaturally still. His eyes had an emptiness I didn't like at all.

“Maybe it's memories,” I said stubbornly. “Maybe I'm pulling them from your head.”

“You don't really think that, do you?” he said. Same emotionless tone, like he'd passed some critical line and was shutting down. But he gripped my hand so tight it hurt, as if he were afraid I'd vanish in midair.

“No,” I admitted. “But how can I hear her, Rives? I never met her. It makes no sense.”

“Nothing about Nil does,” Rives said, his face like stone. “Not then, not now. We need to talk to your dad.” He leaned his head back against the headrest, but he didn't let go of my hand. “I love you, Skye. More than I ever knew it was possible to love someone. If I lost you—” He broke off, his jaw working as he swallowed, fighting to stay in control.