Forsaken Page 3

  Blaise once told me that Reece and Ryder sugarcoat the truth. I wish Blaise were here now. He would probably tell me about the curse and why the cave reeks.

  "Can you check if there's a lantern in your bag?" Ryder asks, pulling out an oddly shaped silver tool from his backpack.

  I shuck off my bag and search for a lantern. "There's not one in here. Sorry."

  "That's okay. Reece probably has one." He sits down in the dirt, stretches out his legs, and balances the can of beans on his lap. Using the silver tool, he cuts the lid off then dips a spoon inside. He takes a bite of the beans before handing me the can and the spoon. "Eat up while I go get Reece's bag." He starts to stand up, but pauses. "What's that look for?"

  I stir the beans. "What look?"

  "You look like you're upset."

  "I'm fine." I scoop up a spoonful of beans and stuff them into my mouth. "I think I'm just hungry."

  "No, that's not it." He leans closer to me. "Come on, Allura, please tell me what's wrong, or I won't be able to relax."

  I sigh, more at myself for stressing him out. Why couldn't I just let it go? He's just trying to protect me from being scared.

  "It's nothing. I just wish I knew more about this curse and why the rocks smell like sulfur in here." I nibble on a bite of beans. "You seem more unsettled in here than you were outside, and I'd like to know why, even if I may get scared. I'd rather be scared than confused."

  Heaving a sigh, he sits back down and opens his arms. "Come here."

  I pause mid-bite. "Huh?"

  His lips quirk. "I promise I won't bite. I just want you to sit on my lap."

  "Oh." My heart skips a beat, which seems like such an odd reaction after everything that has happened. All three of the guys have carried me at one time or another, so sitting on Ryder's lap shouldn't be a big deal. Still, as I crawl over to him and sit down, I nearly choke on my ragged breaths.

  "We should sit like this all the time," he says, urging me to lean against him.

  "That'd be a little hard to do while we're walking," I retort nervously.

  He chuckles, sweeping my hair to the side. Then he grows solemn.

  "You really want to know about these caves and the curses?"

  "I really do." I nod. "I know you guys think I'll get scared, and I probably will, but everything out here is scary. And I've spent so much time never knowing what's going on ... It's nice to have the option."

  His expression wavers between worry and pity. "I didn't think about it like that ... I should've, though. Back when I lived on the docks, I didn't get to make my own choices. And everyone was so dishonest. They kept secrets from each other, and half the people lied, cheated, and stole. And when we disobeyed ..." He trails off, gulping.

  "Did they ...? Did someone hurt you when you did something bad?"

  He clears his throat, collecting himself. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. And I escaped." He rests his chin on my shoulder. "I need you to promise me one thing before I tell you about the curse."

  I want to talk to him more about what happened on the docks, but I think better of it. If he doesn't want to talk about it, I shouldn't force him.

  "Promise me that no matter what, you won't go running out of this cave."

  "Why would I do that?"

  His breath feathers against my ear. "Because after I tell you, you're going to be so damn scared you're going to want to run as far away from here as you can."

  Chapter Three

  Curse of the Caves

  "Still want to hear about it?" he asks after a minute of silence ticks by.

  I force down the lump wedged in my throat and nod, even though I'm not certain I still do. Ryder's clearly worried, and my anxious mind is coming up with all sorts of scenarios of what could be so frightening about these caves.

  "Okay." Disappointment weighs in his tone. "But if at any time you want me to stop talking, just say so." He waits for me to nod before continuing. "I'm not sure how the legend first started, but the story goes that, when the Grim first showed up in our world, a lot of people took to hiding in these caves. From what I understand, the fault line runs along nearly half of the land, and caves cover the hills. Some of them run so deep into the hills that you can get lost for days in them."

  My gaze wanders to the back of the cave. "Is that why you picked one that has a dead end? So we wouldn't wander off and get lost?"

  He slips an arm around my waist. "That and so I won't have to worry about someone or ... something showing up unexpectedly."

  "Oh." I twist back around and relax against his chest. "Is that why everyone's so afraid of the caves--because they worry they'll get lost?"

  "That's only part of the reason. There's way more to it than that."

  "Does it have to do with the fact that this whole place stinks like sulfur?"

  He nods. "It does."

  "Does the sulfur have something to do with the Grim?"

  He leans over my shoulder, capturing my gaze. "Why would you say that?"

  I chew on a spoonful of beans. "I don't know. The channels kind of had the same smell, only more rotten. I thought maybe Grim are near these caves, and that's why it stinks."

  "They're not in the caves. But you're right about the channels having a similar smell. And there's a reason for that. Do you know why the channels smell like sulfur?"

  "I had a hunch it had something to do with all the dead bodies decomposing down there." I set down the empty can of beans and rotate sideways on his lap. "The wardens used to tell me that, if I ever tried to run away, I'd get lost in the channels, and my body would never be found. I sometimes wondered if that happened to a lot of people, and that's why the air always carried the scent of death."

  "It might be because of that, but that's not what the curse is about." He stares at the entrance of the cave where light filters in, tracing his finger up and down my side. "The Forsaken believe that the scent of sulfur means a Grim's spirit is close by."

  "Their spirits? Like ghosts?"

  "No, the Grim can't die. Their spirits aren't the same as human spirits."

  I relax a smidgen, but I keep my guard on high alert. "Then what are the spirits?"

  "It's kind of hard to explain." He chews on his bottom lip. "The thing is, we don't know a lot about the Grim. When they invaded our world, they destroyed a lot of our learning resources. Plus, we spend so much time running and hiding from them that it doesn't leave much of a chance to do research. But we do have a team at the station that spends most of their extra time trying to learn more about the Grim. The problem is, with all the rescue missions and attacks going on, no one has a ton of extra time."

  "So, you don't know what their spirits are?"

  "No, not for sure. But we have some ideas, one being that their spirits are just a discarded memory the Grim leave behind."

  I think about my own resurfacing memories. All those years I spent in the channel and I couldn't remember much about the outside world. But the second I escaped, I began recollecting bits and pieces of a forgotten life.

  "So they just discard their memories and what?" I coil a strand of my hair around my finger. "Does the memory float around? Can we pick it up and see it?" The thought makes my stomach churn. The last thing I ever want is to see what goes on inside a Grim's mind.

  But you might be Grim, so maybe you already have.

  He shakes his head, but then he hesitates. "Well, if they do float around, humans can't see them. At least, I've never heard of anyone seeing one. Some people believe there's a way to collect them and see the memories, but if you do, you lose your mind and go crazy."

  I cast an apprehensive glance around the cave. If memories are here, could I possibly see them since I'm a hybrid?

  "What are some of the other theories?"

  "That a spirit is actually a part of a Grim."

  "Like they replicate themselves? Because that sounds horrible."

  "It does sound horrible, and honestly, I'm not a big believer in that theory."
He brushes a few strands of his blond hair out of his eyes. "But the spirit isn't an actual physical replica of the Grim. It's more like faded pieces of them, like shed skin left behind after they've used moonstone to recharge."

  I make an appalled face. "You're making them sound like snakes ... and ghosts ... like ghost snakes."

  He rubs his lips together, struggling not to smile. "And you're making this story way more amusing than it should be."

  "Sorry. I'm just trying to understand. It's so confusing ... and alarming ... and strange."

  "I wish I could explain it better, but we're still trying to understand it, too." He reaches up and cups my cheek. "But to answer your question about the curse, the Forsaken believe in the latter. They think that, not only do the Grim shed their skin, but that shed skin can make physical contact with a human and sometimes can even slip inside us and possess our bodies."

  "So the Forsaken believe that these caves are full of Grim spirits?" I put two and two together. "That's why they don't come in here--because they think they'll end up possessed?"

  Ryder nods, sketching his thumb back and forth across my cheekbone. For whatever reason, he seems pretty adamant about touching me. It doesn't bother me, but it does leave my mind spinning in confusion.

  "The Forsaken won't step foot in the caves," he says, "which makes the caves a safe haven from the Forsaken."

  "But Blaise was scared of the caves," I point out. "Does he believe in the legends?"

  Reluctance crosses his face. "Kind of."

  I shudder, wanting to spring from Ryder's lap and bolt from the cave. I manage to stay put like I promised, though. Still, I do lean closer to Ryder.

  "Did something happen to his brother in the caves?" I ask, tracing circles in the dirt with my finger.

  "Right before Blaise was brought to the station, his brother died in the caves. I don't know what happened ... Blaise refuses to talk about it. All I know is that the Grim were responsible for his entire family's death, and that's why he chooses to be out there, risking his life."

  No wonder Blaise didn't want to come into the caves. I'm not sure if I ever had a brother or sister, but I can imagine it would be heartbreaking to lose someone you care for so greatly.

  A pain so great you never want to think about it ... like a piece of yourself has died, too ... a piece that will never fully live again ...

  "You doing okay?" Ryder ducks his head to level his gaze with mine. "This is a lot to take in."

  "Yeah, I'm fine." I direct my attention back to Ryder. "I was just thinking about how hard it must be for Blaise to be near the caves."

  "I'm sure it is, but Blaise will never show it. We look out for him whenever he lets us." His palm glides down my cheek, and his hand cups the back of my neck. "That's part of the reason Reece suggested he be the decoy today--to keep him from having to come here."

  "Maybe we shouldn't have come near the caves to begin with."

  "They're all over the fault line, so they're pretty unavoidable."

  "Oh." My frown deepens. "Well, I'm glad he didn't come here with us. Although, I'm worried about him being out there alone."

  "He'll be fine. He has an excellent shot and some of the best fighting skills out of all of us."

  He massages the base of my neck, and dear God, it feels so good, surreal and unlike anything I've felt before.

  "You should get some rest so you'll be good to go when night falls. One of us will stay awake so you don't have to worry about anything. We'll make sure you're protected forever."

  Forever? Such a huge promise, one I hope he'll carry out.

  "How about you set up a blanket, and I'll get a lantern from Reece and some fruits and vegetables so I can"--he rolls his eyes--"feed you properly? He's such a health nut."

  Nodding, I hop off his lap and collect my bag. He gets to his feet and starts to leave, grazing his finger along my forearm as he steps past me. His expression sinks as his gaze lowers to the fingerless gloves on my hands. I expect him to tug them off, but he only sighs and walks out of the cave.

  Up until a few seconds ago, I'd forgotten about my hands. Apparently, so did Ryder. I wonder if he'll ever ask me why I'm wearing the gloves or if he'll ask to check on the wounds. I have no clue what I'd do if he did.

  Shoving my worry aside, I grab a blanket from my bag and spread it out on the ground. Then I lie down and try to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. But my mind is wired and spinning with thoughts of the Grim and their spirits. It's difficult to think about anything else when the stench of sulfur haunts the air.

  I plug my nose, seeing if it'll help. It doesn't, and I flop down on the blanket with a sigh.

  "Allura," a voice purrs. "I may not be able to get to you, but I know someone who can."

  I start to bolt upright, but a cold rush of air passes through my chest, and I collapse back down on the blanket, gasping for air. The cold sensation rapidly disperses through my arms and legs all the way to my fingers and toes.

  "Ready for your punishment?" the voice whispers. "I told you not to run. Now you get to see just how much trouble you're in."

  I open my mouth to scream for help, but my eyes close, and I tumble into darkness, instead.

  Chapter Four

  Obsession

  I'm so damn hungry. No, starving. Savagely starving. I need to feed. Now. Only a feast will alleviate my hunger.

  I march down the hallway of the channels with hunger pains searing inside my chest. I haven't fed in weeks. That's too long. But the fucking watchers have restricted the wardens' feeding time due to a food shortage. Of course, the food shortage wouldn't exist if they weren't so greedy. That's the problem with our society. All these stupid rules about respecting the watchers, but they're no better than us. They just think they are because they got us to this world. Now they force us to work in the channels, selling the food that we either create or capture. And we don't see an ounce of the profits. It all goes to them.

  Greedy fucking bastards.

  One day, they'll get what's coming to them. But for now, I'm going to take what's mine.

  My boots thud against the dirt as I storm toward the Nameless's cell. She's the only one left in this section. The rest of the Nameless have either died or been taken to the breeding section. The only reason she's still here is because she's supposed to be different. Visitors pay a steep price to feed on her, and I want to know why. What makes this frail, weak, pathetic human so special? What makes her as good as quercu?

  I've visited her a couple of times to see if I could find out without breaking the laws and tasting her. But she's harder to read than most humans. I need to quit bullshitting around and get straight to the answer. And If I don't act now, I won't ever get a chance.

  From what I understand, in a few weeks, she's going to be transferred to the Broken City to live with the watchers. Usually, prisoners die in the channels. They never get transferred to the city. There must be something special about this Nameless, something deliciously mouthwatering, I bet.

  God, I can't wait to taste her.

  My body yearns thinking about placing my hands on her chest and sipping the life from her veins. If she's as good as I've heard, I'll be stronger than I ever have. Maybe strong enough to finally go through with my plan to take down the watchers.

  When I reach the door to her cell, I punch in the code in the keypad. The lights around the doorframe illuminate as the door glides open.

  I immediately grin at the sight.

  I've caught her in a vulnerable position with her body pressed to the floor and her limbs stretched. She was obviously trying to escape past the iron circle again. She has done it a handful of times.

  Usually, Nameless are easier to break. This one won't give up, though.

  The fact that her cuffs are stuck to the circle right now is going to make feeding a hell of a lot easier. And satisfying.

  "Trying to escape again, huh?" I say from the doorway.

  She visibly cringes at the sound of my voice. S
he knows who I am, knows my name, which is another rule I broke for her. Nameless aren't supposed to know names and languages or have any sort of intelligence. They're supposed to barely exist, always alive but veering toward death. We make sure of that, even if we have to beat the will to live out of them.

  I was sent down here a few times to beat her, but that fire in her eyes still remains, even now as she glances up at me. Something about the look has always drawn me in, made me curious, made me desire her in the strangest way. I can't even explain it.

  Normally, we don't look at humans as more than a source of food. But with her ... I've seen the desire in other wardens' eyes, too. And even visitors. They long for more of her. Maybe that is why I told her my name. Or maybe I've just been underground for too long and am getting bored. Whatever the reason, the damn girl should be grateful I broke the laws for her and told her my name. But she's not. There's still some time to break the appreciation into her, though.

  "Little, helpless Nameless," I taunt her as the door shuts behind me. "You know, most of you hardly talk, let alone try to escape. You're different, though, aren't you? Number five-two-eight-seven. Just an ordinary number, yet I don't think you are." I stroll toward her, my hunger growing to a pulsating need, throbbing inside my body. "I'm not supposed to touch you. You're supposed to be for the visitors." I inhale her scent, my nostrils flaring. "But I want to know what the big deal is."

  She shuts her eyes and bites down on her lip. "S-stay away f-from me, or I'll t-tell the other wardens."

  I crouch down, laughing at the fear flowing from her. "No, you won't. And even if you did, they wouldn't believe you." They won't, either. The only way they'd know about what I'm going to do is if they saw me on camera. But I momentarily disabled the system so no one will ever know.

  I place my hand on her back and feel the life pouring from her body. Her scent overwhelms me, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. God, she smells so fucking divine.

  "No one's ever going to know," I mumble as I slip my hand around her and press my palm to her chest.

  She screams out in pain as the life slips from her veins and pours into me. My mouth salivates, and I let out a moan.