I eye him over warily. “You’re just going to let me tap into you.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Consider this your one and only freebie.”
I look at Emmy, who shrugs, seeming just as astounded as I am.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” she says. “He surprises me every day.”
Still uncertain, I reach for him, but he pulls back.
“Oh, I’m not going to make it easy on you.” He licks his lips.
I remain immobile, hand suspend in midair. I don’t know what my problem is. It’s just a kiss and I’ve kissed him before, but something about it feels wrong. Or maybe it’s that deep down a part of me wants to kiss him.
For a second, I consider kneeing him between the legs. But not wanting him to know he’s getting to me, I keep my head and shoulders held high, my gaze never faltering as I lean in.
“Alright, Sylas, if that’s the way you want to play, then let’s play.” Without indication, I press my lips to his, a dominating move as I clutch onto the upper hand.
He’s not influencing my emotions, which is making the situation worse. All of it is raw—the way he feels, the way I feel, the way our lips connect. Kissing him is so much different than kissing Aiden. Aiden is open and his emotions pour out effortlessly. There’s something safe in Aiden’s touch. But when Sylas opens up, it’s like falling into an abyss.
I let the kiss go on longer than I should. He tangles his fingers in my hair, slides his hand up my back, and draws me closer. As our bodies touch, I decide to end it and keep things on my terms. I draw back and his eyes open. There’s nothing there, no anger, no sadness, no concern. I’m sure my expression matches his, even though my heart’s slamming against my chest. That’s when I realize that Sylas and I share a trait.
“Did you get what you needed?” Sylas arches an eyebrow.
“I did.” My voice is as smooth as honey.
I got more than I needed. Sylas’ inner workings are twisted and intricate. Particularly the way he feels about me. He wants to devour me because he cares for me too much, yet at the same time, he wants to protect me. He’s a walking contradiction, and I should be frightened. But I’m not.
Always a fearless soldier, just like I’m supposed to be.
“Should we get going?” I slip on my boot, lace it up, and start across the desert, away from the city.
He dashes in front of me and his shield’s back up, blocking what he’s feeling. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To find Aiden.” I pause, refusing to look at him. “Because you don’t have the answers I need. You don’t know any more about my memories than I do. And Emmy can’t help me—not without dipping into Aiden’s mind.”
He lets go of my hand and I stumble forward. “You didn’t tell me how you discovered the Highers know you’re alive.”
I freeze, remembering the smell of the fires, the scent of death. “While we were in the city, the Highers came to the hillside looking for me. When they couldn’t find me, they killed everyone.”
The air grows as still as a deceased heart. Even the vampire cries have descended, morning is breaking through.
“They killed everyone,” Emmy’s voices strangles out, her compassion revealing briefly. “Everyone’s dead.”
I slowly nod, staring at the desert. Daybreak is about to creep over the sky. “Everyone, except Aiden, Greyson, Cedrix, and Ryder.”
Emmy lets out a sigh. “Well, I’m glad they’re okay.”
“I’m sure you are,” Sylas remarks with humor in his tone.
Emmy hisses at him and Sylas rolls his eyes. “You and your temper tantrums. I don’t know why Monarch put that in you. Or the crazy.”
“He didn’t put the temper in me. That is all me.” She smiles, dancing in a circle, swishing her dress. “And I like the crazy. The world would be a boring place without it.”
“Can we go now?” I interrupt. “It’s daybreak and that means you two are going to have to start staying in shade.”
His eyes roam to the sky. “Nah, I think we’re going to sit this one out.”
I stare at him blankly. “You’re not coming with me?”
He shakes his head. “Like you said, morning’s coming.” He turns his back on me. “Let’s go Emmy, before we get roasted.”
Emmy gives me a half-shrug. “Sorry, Kayla,” she singsongs. “But he’s right.” She skips after Sylas.
I proceed in the direction of the hillside, my mind entangling with confusion. He’s just going to let me walk away, after he spent so much time chasing after me? As much as my feet want to head back to him, I keep marching forward.
A swoosh flows from behind me and then his lips are touching my ear. “You’re sad I’m not going with you. Admit it.”
“I said you can do whatever you want.” My feet slip in the sand as I put one foot in front of the other. “And I meant it.”
He touches my shoulder and roughly reels me to face him. “Just answer this one question for me. Are you going for Aiden’s help or to help Aiden?”
“Both,” I say honestly, swaying from the spin. “I want my memories. And I want to save him.”
“He’ll never do it,” he says. “He hates the idea too much.”
“Sylas,” Emmy calls out. “We have to go. Daybreak’s coming.”
“Whether you’re coming or not, I’m still going,” I tell him. “I can take care of myself.” I shoo him away. “So you can go.”
“I know you can take care of yourself.” His eyes travel to the shallow, sandy hills. “Emmy, go back and find the others. Tell them to find a good hiding spot until I get back. In fact, have them go to the Grates.”
“But I hate it there,” Emmy complains. “It smells like garbage.”
“It smells like garbage because that’s where they used to dump garbage.”
I internally cringe. “Emmy’s not going with us?”
“What?” The corners of his mouth quirk up. “Are you afraid of being alone with me?”
“No.” I shake my head firmly. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
His lips curl into a grin. “Then go ahead, Kayla. Lead the way.”
“You have a weapon on you, right?” I stick out my hand. “Just in case.”
“Emmy, give me your knife.” He holds his hand behind him, never taking his gaze off me.
Emmy slams her knife into his hand. “But I want to come.” She pouts out her lip. “The Grates suck.”
“Emmy, I need you to step up here,” Sylas says with a mildly tolerant tone. “No more messing around.”
She shakes her head and huffs away, red hair flapping in the wind. “Fine.” She twirls her dress as she spins in circles. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”
Sylas flips the blade in his hand and shoves it into his back pocket. “I think I’ll hold onto this for a while. I don’t want any unnecessary stabbings going down.”
My hand itches to steal the knife, but I’m not stupid. He’d kill me if I tried. I let out frustrated breath and head across the desert. Sylas follows, whistling a tune that flutters in the morning stillness.
“It’s getting light,” I say after some time drifts by. “We should move beside the hills and out of the light.”
His boots scrape against the sand and he gives a deep chuckle. “Probably, unless you want me to burn alive.”
I make a sharp left and walk a line to the hills that roll the land. Morning’s parting through the sky and the ash and smoke is thinning.
I hop over a rock and land with a thud. “Why do you think the Highers were out in the city?” I glance over my shoulder and he’s tracing his fingers along the edge of the hill. “Do you think they do it all the time? Or do you think they were just looking for me?”
He swipes up a rock and chucks it across the land. “I think they’ve been wandering outside since The Colony was built. But I think they were looking for you last night and that’s why Tristan showed up suddenly.”
“But what I want to know is how did they discover that I was alive in the first place? I mean we died at The Gathering,” I say. “So how did they find out about the hillside and the survivors?”
“Perhaps a certain doctor who created us has gone rogue.” He pauses, staring at the ground, his eyebrows knitting together. “I mean, he is the one responsible for tossing us out in the desert to begin with. Then again, maybe the Highers know we’re not dead. Maybe this is all just a test.”
“They think we’re dead, Sylas. Maci said she died and an Angel saved her.” I clutch my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms. “And Monarch’s dead, so it can’t be him.”
His head snaps up. “He died? When?”
“He died right before The Gathering.”
He settles down. “Do you know that for sure?”
“I don’t know anything for sure.” I hike up on a path that takes us farther into the shade. “And for a moment I thought…” Rocks crumble to the ground as we maneuver around a bush blocking the path.
“Thought what?” He asks and when I don’t answer, he adds, “You know, you and Aiden need to learn that the lying thing was built into you and if we want to get anywhere, you’re going to have to stop.”
“Lying’s not always bad,” I reply. “Sometimes it can protect me.”
“Not with me,” he says, moving beside me. “With me, the truth protects you. Remember that.”
I look at my wrists, where my experiment numbers are sketched, along with a faint scar. Sylas was the one who showed me the numbers, gave me the truth. “I wonder sometimes if Monarch might be a Higher.”