“What do you want me to do with this?” I whisper to the night, tracing the circular symbol on the back. The answer I get isn’t what I want. A scream, sharp and growing louder as it ricochets up the hall. I leap up, trip over my feet, and ungracefully slam into the concrete. The watch slips from my fingers and crushes against the ground with a clank. My breath catches as the glass shatters. I scramble to my feet and pick up the watch. Thankfully, besides the shattered glass, it’s still intact.
I slip the watch into my pocket and tiptoe for the door, but a tall figure zips in my room and slams me flat on my back, knocking the wind out of me. Stunned, I blink up at him as he pins my wrists down above my head. Blue eyes stare blankly at me. Eyes I’ve seen before, but thought I’d never see again.
“Tristan?” I start to relax, until I sense what he’s feeling. It’s the most venomous emotion I’ve ever felt.
Murder. Tristan wants to kill me.
Chapter 5
The sweet guy I knew from The Colony no longer exists. Instead, a murderous monster is inside, his eyes hollow, his expression numb and uncaring. He holds all the characteristics of the Higher, except for their pale hair and eyes.
“Tristan!” I cry out as his hands snake around my neck. “Stop! This isn’t you!”
His jaw drops and his grip slightly loosens. “How do you know me?”
“I know you from The Colony,” I choke. “You used to know me before I got chosen for The Gathering.”
He eyes me suspiciously and forces his weight down, crushing my body. “I don’t remember you… You’re trying to get in my head and confuse me, just like they said you would.”
“No, they lie. I know you and you know me.” I dig my nails into the backs of his hands until I draw blood.
He jerks back, releasing some of his weight, and stares flabbergasted at the scratches on his hands. “What are you? A vampire?”
“No, I’m not a vampire.” I rise up onto my elbows. “What are you doing out here?”
“I’m not sure…” He opens his mouth and his lips tremor. “But I think I need to—”
Before he can show me what he needs, I jerk my leg up and knee him between the legs. He lets out a groan and his shoulders crumple forward. Taking advantage of his vulnerability, I kick him again. He slaps me across the face. My jaw pops and my ears ring. Tristan has gotten strong, like I used to be.
“What happened to you?” I moan, hating the sound of my feeble voice.
He strikes me again and blood pools in my mouth. Another slap and then something crashes into the back of him. Sylas and Tristan tumble over me. Tristan takes a swing at Sylas, but Sylas quickly zips to the side and dodges the impact.
I scramble to my feet and hunt for my knife. “Where is it…” I realize I left it downstairs.
Sylas laughs until Tristan actually hits him across the jaw. Sylas’ eyes darken and his teeth snap out. With a swift dip of his head, he plunges his fangs into Tristan’s neck. Tristan screams while Sylas sinks his teeth deeper. Tristan’s eyes roll into the back of his head and his eyelids flutter shut.
Sylas moves back and wipes his blood-stained lips with the sleeve of his shirt. “Is he a friend of yours?”
“He’s from The Colony.” I lean over Tristan. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
He gets a devious look and walks behind me. “Would it upset you if I did?” He sweeps my hair to the side and my head rolls back as a blanket of warmth caresses my skin. “Tell me Kayla, is he one of your admirers?”
“No…” I scoot forward, distancing us. “And would you stop messing around with my emotions.” I bend over Tristan and study his state. “He shouldn’t be here. He’s just a Colony member.”
Sylas crouches beside me. “He’s not a Bellator then?”
I shake my head slowly and pat Tristan pockets, checking for weapons. “At least not when I left The Colony he wasn’t. But he’s different now—stronger and angrier.”
“Sounds like an improvement if you ask me.”
I glare at him and he returns it with a grin.
He scratches his head. “What are the Highers up to?”
I hear a rustle and spin with my fists out. “Are there others here?”
Shaking his head, Sylas stands. “Not that I know of. The only reason I came up here was to check on you.”
I stare at the dark, empty hall. “So it’s only him… that doesn’t make any sense.”
Sylas glances over his shoulder to the hallway. “He seemed to be looking for you.”
“Yeah, but again, why? I mean, after I left The Gathering, he should have forgotten about me. And he didn’t act like he knew who I was.” I pause. “And how did he even get in here?”
Sylas’ thinking face forms, his eyebrows dipping as he nibbles at his bottom lip. “He must have followed us in here.”
“But I would have noticed—I would have heard his heart.” But I can’t hear his heart now. “Did you really kill him? Or is he just missing a heartbeat.”
Sylas folds his arms and taps his lips. “I don’t think I killed him. In fact, I’m about ninety percent sure I didn’t.” He takes note of Tristan’s pale state and the blood streaming down his neck. “Well, maybe eighty percent.”
I rub my temples. “How do we know for sure if he’s alive or not?”
Sylas looms over him and inhales. “He’s good.”
“Are you one-hundred percent sure this time?”
He presses back a smirk. “Maybe ninety-nine.”
“What do we do with him?” I search the dark room for a solution and come to a stop by the window. The streets are smothered with night and the fires flame in front of the buildings. The Highers were out tonight and then Tristan shows up—it can’t be just a coincidence.
“We could chain him to a wall,” Sylas suggests, resting his arms on the windowsill and peering down at the sparkling city. “That always seems to work.”
I frown, remembering the multiple times I’ve been chained to the wall. “I don’t know...”
“What’s a matter, Kayla?” Sylas teases and nudges me with his shoulder. “Do you feel sorry for him?”
I take in Tristan’s features, his cropped blonde hair, and the blue eyes that are hidden below his eyelids. “I’m not sure what I feel for him—I never have.”
“Then I’ll make the decision for you.” Sylas picks up Tristan and throws him over his shoulder with intentional roughness. Tristan’s head thumps heavily against Sylas’ shoulder.
“Are you sure you don’t remember him from The Colony?” I ask suspiciously.
Sylas’ dark eyes linger on me. “I left The Colony a few years ago, and can barely remember anyone. Why does it matter anyway?”
“Because, if you knew him, you’d know he’s not a bad person,” I explain and Sylas raises his eyebrows, his gaze settling on my cheek. My fingers trace the tender spot where Tristan slapped me. “Well, he used to be a nice person… a little brainwashed, but nice enough.”
“And you used to be inhumanly strong, but now look at you.”
I tip my head at Tristan’s upside down face. “Yeah, but Tristan was so… ”
“So what?” Sylas shifts Tristan’s weight. “Perfect, right? Just like every other Colony member. So here’s a thought to sit on. What defines perfect? If everyone’s the same then how can someone be considered perfect when there's no imperfection to compare them to?"
“That’s deep,” I say. “Did you come up with on your own? Or are you basing it on a memory you won’t share with me?”
“You already knew the Highers seek perfection. You’ve lived in The Colony. But that little knowledge I came up with all on my own.”
I sweep my bangs out of my face. “Sylas, I think Tristan was going to bite me. Does that mean he’s a Day Taker?”
Sylas shakes his head and glances at Tristan. “He doesn’t feel the same as a Day Taker, but I don’t think he’s human either, so we better get him chained up.”
We leave the room. Unexpectedly, Sylas heads for the roof. He weaves up the staircase and pushes out the steel door.
Ash rains down from the sky and I shield my eyes. “You’re locking him up on the roof?”
“It’s as good as place as any.” He drops Tristan on the ground and disappears around a domed skylight where he drags out a set of heavy chains. “Besides, it’s harder for anyone to hear him screaming from all the way up here.”
“You’re not going to torture him, Sylas.” I stand between the two of them. “I won’t let you.”
“I’m not going to torture him.” He pushes me aside and winds the chains around Tristan’s wrists. “As long as he cooperates. But I don’t want the others knowing he’s here.” He clips the chains together with a solid lock and the chains draw together, pinning Tristan’s arms tight. “You should know better than anyone that they don’t welcome strangers.”
I stare him down, desperate to feel if he’s lying. Sylas is the exception to my gift; he’s a rock hard barrier that’s difficult to penetrate.
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Kayla,” Sylas dusts the dirt from his hands. “I don’t lie. That’s my brother’s thing.”
My heart races as I think of Aiden and his death. “How long do you think Tristan will be out?”
“Depends on if he’s human or not, I guess,” Sylas says with a half-hearted shrug. “If he’s not human, he should be up soon.” A shadow masks his face. “Seeing how he’d be stronger.”
“Stronger than what?” Tristan’s weary voice startles us.
Instinctively, we reel. Sylas steps in front of me, blocking me from Tristan’s reach. It’s an overly protective gesture that perplexes me to no end. Just when I think I’ve gotten him figured out, he does something that completely contradicts his normal character. But being me, I sidestep him to fully see Tristan. I’m not afraid of him, but I don’t think I’ll be running up and giving him a hug either.