The man on my left shakes his head. "If you want the dog to shut up, make him yourself. I don't hurt animals."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," the other man sneers, his yellowish fingernails stabbing into my arms. "You'll kill a human, but you won't kill a stupid little dog?"
The man on my right stares down at me with hatred burning in his eyes. "She's not human."
My heart misses a beat. Those eyes ... So blue ... Alarmingly blue ... I know him ... from somewhere ...
"But she's close," the man on my right points out. "Closer than the dog is."
"No, she's not." The other man keeps his gaze on me, a smile pulling at his lips. "Don't let her looks fool you. What lies underneath those pretty, sad eyes is a horrible, murderous monster who needs to be killed repeatedly."
"Allura, did you hear what I said?" Ryder waves his hand in front of my face.
I blink as I'm hauled back to reality, but the pain from the memory--or whatever that was--continues to sear my heart.
A horrible, murderous monster? I'm a murderer?
"No ... What?" I blink again, trying to focus.
"I said, I think the sun's heating up the metal on the compassbot." Ryder peers up at the sky then at me, his brows furrowing. "Are you okay?"
I nod. "I'm fine." Liar. You're not fine. You're a monster. A murderer.
But who did I kill?
"Are you sure?" Ryder asks, studying me with concern. "You seem ... I don't know, distracted."
"I'm just thinking about some stuff." I hate lying to him, but I can't find the courage to tell him the truth.
I'm a killer.
A monster.
Ryder sighs defeatedly. "If you don't want to talk about it, then it's fine. Just know I'm here."
"I'm sorry." I'm not even sure what I'm apologizing for.
"Don't apologize for nothing. Ever. Got it?" He wags a finger at me sternly, but his lips pull into a smile.
I try to mirror his happiness, but fail epically. "Got it."
He frowns. Then his eyes sparkle as he looks at the compassbot. "You know what? I think you should keep it."
"Like take it back to the station with me?" I start to smile when he nods, but then frown. "Are you sure that's okay? I don't live there, so maybe I shouldn't bring a pet back without permission."
"You have my permission, which is enough. And besides, the station will be your home." He scratches the back of his neck, seeming nervous, which is very out of character for him. He's usually so relaxed and flippant. "At least, if you want it to be."
"I want it to be." I stare down at the compassbot. Its head is lowered and its eyelids are droopy, appearing so at peace, like a harmless robot who deserves a home. But me ... If they knew the truth, about the stuff I see myself do in my memories, dreams--whatever they are--not everyone would welcome me. "I'm not sure everyone will want me to live there after they find out I might be half-Grim."
"We don't know you are for sure," he reminds me. "And even if you are, no one would care."
I stay silent. I know he's trying to make me feel better, but I don't agree with him. Not everyone thinks the same, carries the same opinions, or reacts the same way to situations, so I doubt everyone at the station will be okay with me if it turns out I'm a hybrid. Look at the Forsaken. They loathed hybrids. And for good reason. And everyone from my memories doesn't seem too thrilled with my presence, either.
Ryder bends over to catch my gaze. "Look, I don't believe anyone at the station would care if it turns out you're a hybrid. We don't have to tell anyone if it makes you uncomfortable."
Guilt chokes at me. "Then you'd have to lie to everyone."
"Yeah, so?"
"I don't want you to have to lie to people you care about."
"You say that like I don't care about you." He fixes his finger under my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. "I do. So does Reece and Blaise. And Blaise doesn't care about anyone, which says a lot about what kind of person you are."
"You hardly know me," I say softly. "For all you know, I could turn out to be as bad as those hybrids who killed all those Forsaken."
His gaze never wavers from mine. "I know you aren't."
"How do you know that for sure?" I don't.
His hand molds my cheek. "You don't have a damn bad bone in your body, whether you believe so or not."
"Not everything I've done is good." Even if I can't remember all the bad, sometimes I can feel it living inside the darkest parts of my mind.
"If you're talking about what happened back in the tent, then you're completely wrong. You were just trying to protect me. You were so brave, and I wish you'd realize that."
His words make me feel warm inside, like melted chocolate. I don't even know how I know what melted chocolate feels like, but that's how I feel right now. And while I know I may be undeserving of the feeling, I can't seem to force it to go away.
"Thanks for saying that," I say so quietly my voice nearly gets carried away by the wind.
"No, thank you."
"For what?"
"For being you."
My lips pull into the tiniest smile, and he grins. But his happiness fades into puzzlement.
I open my mouth to ask him what's wrong when he grazes his thumb across my lip, silencing me. Then his gaze drops to my mouth and his tongue slips out from between his lips, his eyes glazing over. I've seen a guy look at me this way before. A guy who haunts my memories, who whispers promises of loving me, and then later tries to kill me.
Ryder once told me he wanted to kiss me, even going so far as to graze his lips against the corner of my mouth. Then he told me he'd wait until later to kiss me. What if he tries to kiss me right now? Should I stop it? Or just let him?
Should I let him kiss me without him knowing the entire truth about me?
All my worries are cut short as the ground rumbles.
"Do you feel that?" I whisper, my eyes widening.
Ryder nods dazedly with his gaze fastened on my mouth. "I do." Then he leans in.
I don't know what's going on--why he's not panicking that the ground's quaking--when fear courses through my veins.
"What if it's a Tracker?"
Ryder pauses, his lips mere inches from mine. "Huh ...?" His eyes enlarge as the ground gives another violent quake. "Shit." His hand leaves my cheek, and he grasps ahold of my hand as his gaze skims the cliffs around us.
"What is it?" I search the area, fighting back the urge to panic.
"I'm not sure ..." Ryder strengthens his hold on my hand as the dirt beneath our feet begins to splinter apart. "It's not a Tracker. They won't come near the fault." Doubt crosses his face as he peers upward at the cliffs.
I hold my breath, waiting for a giant, metallic snake to burst through the dirt and dive straight at us. It never happens. Instead, a group of metallic vehicles with shiny black exteriors and no trunk or roof, wheel up to the ledge. My mind takes a second to connect the machines to a word I know.
Motorcycles.
Of course, the motorcycles I picture are much smaller and less bulky, but I'm rarely right about what things look like.
A person straddles each motorcycle, their heads shielded by helmets. I can't tell if they're men or women. Then my stomach clenches as another thought occurs to me.
What if they aren't people? What if they're Grim?
"Ryder ... What are they?" My confusion doubles when a smile spreads across his face.
He glances at me, seeming more relaxed than he has since they rescued me from the channels. "That, sweetheart, is our rescue team."
Chapter 2
The Rescue Team
I want to share Ryder's happiness about the rescue team, but apprehension crawls inside of me. The last couple of times I crossed paths with strangers didn't turn out so well for me. Then I remind myself that Ryder, Reece, and Blaise were once strangers to me, too, and that turned out okay. More than okay.
One by one, the riders slip off their helmets. Angling my h
ead up, I squint against the sunlight and make out the silhouettes of two tall, broad men and two women, one short and one tall.
"Looks like you got yourself into a bit of trouble!" the shorter of the two women shouts to Ryder through a laugh. "Like always!"
Ryder grins, untangles his fingers from mine, and cups his hands around his mouth. "Life's too boring any other way!"
The woman laughs and so does one of the men.
"Where's Reece and Blaise?" the taller woman asks, swinging her long leg off the bike.
"Reece went looking for water," Ryder hollers. "And Blaise had one of his tantrums and ran off."
The taller woman flips her dark hair off her shoulder as she laughs. "What was it over this time?"
Ryder shrugs, but his gaze strays over his shoulder at me. "Who knows? You know how he can get."
"That I do." The taller woman's eyes flick from me to Ryder. Then she slants her head to the side in puzzlement.
"How long do you think they'll be?" one of the men asks Ryder as he hops off his motorcycle. "I'd like to head back to the station before sundown, especially if the Forsaken are hunting you."
"I'm not sure. Reece has been gone for a while, so I'm guessing soon. Blaise ..." He scratches the back of his neck. "Well, we might have to go look for him."
They continue to shout back and forth, planning on how to track Blaise down as quickly as possible. I find myself inching away, feeling out of place, a stranger amongst a group of different species, which might be true.
I make my way all the way to the compassbot before coming to a stop. When the compassbot lets out an enthused yip, I bend over and scoop it up into my arms.
"I can't believe I feared you," I mumble, scratching the back of its ear.
It barks, sticking out its tongue and panting. I wonder if it's thirsty. Then again, it's a robot, so I don't know.
"Do you eat and drink?" I ask aloud, feeling silly for talking to a robot dog.
"It doesn't. But if you keep it, you'll have to recharge it." Blaise materializes from out of nowhere, scaring me half to death.
I press my hand over my racing heart. "How do I recharge it?"
"There are power sources at the station you can plug it into." He scrutinizes the compassbot. "These things can live forever if you take care of them. Out here, though, they usually live for about a month or two before their battery power runs out."
"That's so sad ... How did he even get out here? Or was it born--created out here?"
"It's probably a stray that escaped the city. Most of them are created in factories and sold to Grim and sometimes humans as pets."
My gaze travels to the numbers branded on my wrist. The compassbot and I may be completely different species, but our stories don't sound much different.
"If you want to bring it back to the station, you can," he tells me. "If not, you should put it down before it gets too attached."
"Will it get attached that fast? I've only been holding it for a few minutes."
"Usually, no. But with you ... maybe."
"Why?"
"Because ..." He drags his hand across his forehead and shifts his weight, seeming uneasy. "You're kind of spoiling it."
"Oh." I stop petting the compassbot. "Is that bad?"
A pained look comes across his face, and while I have no idea what is upsetting him, I wonder if it has to do with his past and what he is, both of which are mostly a mystery to me.
"Only if you plan on leaving it behind," he utters, not meeting my gaze.
I instinctively reach for his face to cup his cheek and comfort him, like Ryder so often does to me, but right before my fingers connect with his scruffy jawline, his eyes snap wide and I remember Blaise doesn't like being touched.
"Sorry." I withdraw my hand. "I forgot."
"It's fine." His tone perplexingly carries relief mixed with disappointment. My perplexity only skyrockets when he reaches out and laces his fingers with my free hand. "So, do you think you'll keep it?"
"Ryder told me I should." I glance down at the compassbot, fast asleep in my arms. "But I'm not sure if I should bring a pet to a place I've never been before and isn't even my home."
"The station will be your home. At least, if you want it to be." His brows dip as the corners of my lips tug upward. "What's so funny?"
"It's nothing." I give a shrug. "Ryder just said almost the exact same thing to me."
"Well, at least he did one thing right today," he grumbles with heavy annoyance.
I shift the compassbot into the crook of my arm. "You're not still mad at him, are you?"
He shakes his head. "I wasn't mad at him. Not really, anyway."
"Then why did you seem upset when you took off?"
The muscle in his jawline spasms as he looks away. "Does it really matter?"
"I think it does ... I don't like it when you're upset."
He arches a brow as he returns his attention to me. "Maybe I should be saying the same thing to you."
My brows pull together. "I'm not upset."
He gives me a doubtful look. "Then why are you hiding back here from Ryder and the rescue team?"
I bite my lip, attempting to hide my apparent transparency. "I don't know. I mean, I'm not really hiding since I'm standing out in the open."
"But you are in a way." His fierce gaze bores into mine. "You're nervous; I can tell."
"I just feel a little out of place. That's all." I stare down at the compassbot. "I think I'll keep it, if that's okay?"
He continues to study me intently. "Okay. Good."
I offer him a small smile, but he doesn't return it.
"Are you going to tell me why you were upset now?" he asks.
Before I can say anything, Ryder strolls up. "Good. You're here. I was just about to go look for you," he tells Blaise then hitches his thumb over his shoulder. "A rescue team showed up while you were gone."
"I know. I heard the engines." Blaise casts a glance toward the top of the cliff then frowns. "Who's here?"
"Phoenix, Jett, Taylor, and Mia," Ryder answers, pulling a face at the mention of Mia. "They said they received the signal we sent out from the Forsaken camp. Crazy, right? I didn't actually think they'd get it, considering how old that equipment is."
"It's a good thing they did. I couldn't find a drop of water anywhere." Reece's breathless voice sails from over my shoulder.
I sigh in relief that he made it back okay, but my relief is short-lived as I twist around and take in the sight of him.
His brown hair is askew, his forehead and cheeks smudged with dirt and a few scratches, he's completely out of breath, and the knees of his cargo pants are torn.
"Shit, what's wrong?" Ryder spins around, scanning the trail behind him. "Is it the Forsaken? Did they catch up with us?"
Reece hunches over as he struggles to catch his breath. "No ..." He gasps for air. "Watchers."
Ryder stiffens, and Blaise's fingers constrict around mine as he lets out a string of curses.
"Watchers? Since when do Watchers come into the fault?" Ryder asks, his eyes huge as his fingers drift toward his empty holster. "Fuck, I forgot Zinnia took our guns."
Reece shakes his head as he stands up straight. "I have no idea, and I don't want to stick around to find out. There are about five of them a mile back, which means we have maybe ten minutes to get up the cliff and take off."
My heart rate skyrockets. Watchers are a mile away? In a place they don't normally go? Why do I get the feeling this has something do with me?
"So, we're free climbing?" Ryder's gaze flits in my direction.
"We have to." Reece rolls up his sleeves. "We don't have time to set up."
I swallow hard, glancing from the cliffs to the trail then to Ryder. "What's free climbing?"
"Climbing without a rope and harness," Ryder explains with an apologetic look.
My lips form an O. The last time I tried to climb down the cliff, I panicked and got stuck, and Blaise had to rescue me. And that was with
a rope and harness. Maybe going up won't be as bad. Still, I gulp as I take in the height of the serrated, steep cliffs.
"Blaise, take care of Allura." Reece hikes toward the cliff, calling over his shoulder, "Ryder and I will get started. Although, you'll still probably beat us up there."
"Just don't move so quickly you end up falling. I won't be there to catch you this time," Blaise warns, refastening the strap on his fingerless gloves.
"And make sure to be careful," Ryder says, backing away from us.
"I'm always careful," Blaise replies with a shake of his head.
"I know, but you need to be extra careful this time. You have precious cargo." Ryder gives Blaise a pressing look before turning around and jogging after Reece.
"Like I don't know that," Blaise mutters, seemingly to himself. Then he slips off the bag he's wearing, unzips it, and turns toward me. "Here. Put the compassbot in this."
I do as he instructs, and when the robotic dog begins to stir, I run my fingers along the top of its head, which settles it down, and it curls up into a ball.
"Hopefully, it'll stay asleep while we do this," Blaise zips up the bag and hands it to me. "Put this on, and then hop onto my back."
"You're going to carry me up the cliff?" I ask, securing the bag on my back.
He nods, opening and flexing his hands. "I'll make sure to move as fast as possible so you don't have to worry too much. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."
"That's not what I'm worried about." Okay, maybe a little, but another thing is troubling me. "Will you be okay carrying me?"
He nods again, his jaw set tight. "I'll be as okay as I was last time."
I want to point out that the last time he carried me down the cliff, he was extremely tense, probably because I was touching him. I didn't know he didn't like to be touched at the time.
"Allura, I'll be fine," he insists, as if reading my apprehension. "We need to go now. We don't want to be here when the Watchers show up."
"Okay." I tie the straps of the bags around my waist, then step up behind Blaise.
When he squats down in front of me, I climb onto his back, hitch my legs around his waist, and link my arms loosely around his neck. His breathing quickens as he straightens, and I resist the urge to bury my face into his back. As we near the cliff that seems to stretch for miles toward the sky, resisting the urge becomes impossible.
With my forehead pressed against the back of his head, I summon a breath.