Dark Descent Page 13

  “Not a lot,” she answered. “I guess it’s on a need-to-know basis.”

  “And you don’t need to know?”

  “No.”

  “Doesn’t that bother you? Being kept out of the loop?”

  Romy shrugged. “Sometimes, but things happen around here for a reason. If everyone knew why Jackson was locked up in the vaults, the reaction mightn’t be one that’s so… desirable.”

  “Oh.” She had a point, though I wasn’t sure if highly trained soldiers would have the same pitchfork mentality as the general public.

  “There’s a lot of prejudice towards anything demonic,” Romy said, glancing at me, “even amongst the Naturals.”

  I thought about Wilder, how Martin and the others had talked about him behind his back. Was there such a thing as a good demon? The more I got to know him, the more I realised Wilder had a lot of secrets—his tentative position amongst the Naturals, how his eyes shone with that silver hue, and the way others treated him. It was as if he’d helped the enemy and was being punished for it.

  I shivered as we walked into a hallway lined completely with a slate grey-coloured metal. I assumed it was all fancy metal because demons. The air had an eerie chill to it like a supernatural force had sucked all the warmth out. I couldn’t pinpoint what was so strange about it. Maybe it was the presence of something, more than the absence.

  Hoping it wasn’t Jackson I was sensing, I tensed as Romy opened one of the dozen or so doors that lined both sides of the corridor.

  I didn’t want to be the kind of friend who looked at her mutating BFF differently, so I boldly stepped into the room.

  I saw him immediately. It wasn’t hard not to, considering most of the space was his cell. Bars separated us, running from the floor to the ceiling, leaving a small portion of space for visitors to stand and observe. There was no sign of an opening to the cell itself, which didn’t bode well for Jackson. How was he supposed to get out?

  Turning my gaze onto Jackson, he was lying on a simple cot, the brown-coloured blankets kicked onto the door. He looked disheveled and exhausted, like he’d been awake for three days straight. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was sallow, but he looked exactly like the Jackson I remembered. If I closed my eyes and envisioned it, I could almost be fooled into thinking it was release week for one of his favourite game franchises and he’d been up all night mastering a new open world.

  “Scarlett!” Jackson exclaimed, shooting to his feet.

  I lumbered forward and glanced at the bars with an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

  “Jackson,” I said, “are you okay?”

  “I should be asking you that question.” He went to push his glasses up his nose, but he wasn’t wearing them and he almost stuck his finger in his eye.

  “I feel like I’ve got an epic hangover, but I’m more worried about you.”

  Jackson grimaced, then looked past me at Romy. His cheeks flushed, and he leaned closer.

  “I remember everything,” he whispered.

  “Everything?”

  “Yeah. Unfortunately.” He shivered and blushed again. “Scarlett, I’m sorry. I really thought you were…”

  “Going crazy?”

  “Something like that,” he replied sheepishly, not looking me in the eye.

  “Look, it doesn’t matter. What’s happening with you? Greer said you were…” I trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

  “Mutating?” Jackson scoffed. “I’m freaking out here, Scarlett. They say I won’t turn into a monster or anything, that my outsides will still look the same, but my insides? Who knows.”

  I thought about what’d happened over the last few weeks, searching for the signs I’d obviously missed while being self-absorbed. He did look different, though I wasn’t sure if it was because of the fortified bars or because he actually was changing.

  At the tournament at the O2, Jackson had said his reflexes were sharper than they’d ever been, that he’d known what Zero Remorse was going to do before he did it. After the Infernal attacked us, and I’d been on the verge of collapsing, he’d suddenly remembered the Sanctum. Now his glasses were gone, and his weedy frame was filling out with muscles.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered, curling my hands around the bars.

  “Ramona thinks the demon who possessed me did something to my DNA,” he replied. “I’m developing an immunity to their magic or whatever it is.”

  “What? What does that even mean?”

  “It means we’re not going to Aruba anytime soon.”

  My heart gained weight, feeling heavy at the sound of his admission. Everything was changing and nothing was certain anymore. My future and his were completely in the hands of the Naturals. I’d wanted to join them, but now I wasn’t so sure. Wilder was right about one thing, though—I wasn’t special and I wouldn’t be treated any other way… and that included Jackson.

  “It hasn’t been pretty,” he murmured. “I’ve lost count how many times I’ve been poked and prodded. They even tried to flush this thing out of my system with their magic. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt, Scarlett. It’s what I imagine being struck by lightning feels like, except lightning stops after a second.”

  “Oh, Jackson…”

  “It’s cool. Whatever they did seems to have made it go slower.”

  “But they hurt you.”

  “Don’t be mad at them,” he said. “They’re trying to help, I think. Ramona wants to stop the mutation.”

  “Stop it?” I asked, frowning. “What about a cure?”

  “I don’t know about that. Have you seen these muscles?” He lifted his arm and flexed. A little muscle popped up and he looked so proud of it. Knowing how it developed left a bad taste in my mouth. Was there an upside to being mutated by a demon? I wasn’t so sure.

  “You want to be like this?” I looked him over, not sure if he was joking or not.

  “Not exactly. I can afford laser eye surgery now.”

  “And a personal trainer.”

  Jackson smiled, but I noticed the expression didn’t reach his eyes. Thankfully, his irises were still their usual shade of green.

  “Are you…” I let the sentence fade away, my own fear stopping me from asking the hard questions.

  “Scared?” Jackson asked.

  I nodded.

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I mean, I still feel like me. Just… better somehow. Whatever’s changing inside me, I’m pretty sure it helped me win the tournament. I don’t know how to feel about that.” He lowered his head. “It kinda feels like cheating.”

  “You didn’t know,” I argued.

  “No, but I also don’t know what I’m going to be at the end of this.”

  My bottom lip began to tremble as tears formed in my eyes.

  “Don’t,” Jackson whispered. “Think about Aruba, okay?”

  I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else but the trouble I’d gotten him into. He had to realise that this was my fault, right? If I wasn’t weird and the Infernal hadn’t targeted me, he never would’ve been possessed.

  “What about you?” he asked, deflecting the conversation away from his predicament. “What are you going to do now?”

  I shrugged. “No idea.”

  “You shot lightning bolts out of your hands and almost died because of it,” he declared. “I think you better find out more about that, huh?”

  “Always the level-headed one, aren’t you?”

  “I know what things are worth, remember?” He winked, then curled his hands around mine, which were still grasping the metal bars.

  The air shimmered between us and he jerked away.

  “What was that?” I let my hands fall away, squinting as the air returned to normal.

  “There’s a barrier,” Jackson explained. “It’s designed to keep demonic creatures in.”

  “What a mess, huh?” I felt a barrage of tears coming again and I swallowed hard. I wasn’t a crier, but w
hat else were people supposed to do in this kind of situation? Waiting around wasn’t something I subscribed to.

  Romy coughed to get my attention, the sound echoing around the vault.

  “I think she wants something,” Jackson whispered, flashing a half-smile.

  “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

  “I know,” he replied. “Go do you, then tell me how it goes, okay?”

  I nodded and backed away from the bars, feeling awful for leaving him there.

  “Ramona wants to see you,” Romy said, closing the door behind us.

  “Dr. Surly is in the house, huh?” I asked, glancing down the metallic hallway.

  “Ramona’s not so bad once you get to know her.” She chuckled, her blue eyes sparkling as she nudged me away from Jackson’s cell. “She’s been working around the clock to figure out what’s going on with your friend.”

  “Oh.” I felt bad for my sassy outburst as we walked down the hall, our boots clip-clopping on the metal walkway.

  To my surprise, a portable laboratory had been set up in the next room. Benches laden with microscopes, beakers and vials, little refrigerators, computer screens, and other bits and pieces were set up in a grid-like pattern. A whiteboard with complex mathematical formulas hung at the opposite end, and a man I didn’t recognise furiously scrubbed out an equation before writing it again.

  I had no idea what half of this stuff was for, but I got the feeling Greer wasn’t lying when she said they were doing everything they could to help Jackson. A little trust began to filter in at the thought.

  Ramona glanced up from the microscope she was peering through and rubbed her eyes. When she saw Romy and me, she rose and came to meet us. She looked exhausted, and the three empty coffee cups on the table were an indicator that there must’ve been a great deal of all-nighters.

  “Scarlett, how are you feeling?” she asked, pressing her palm against my forehead.

  “Tired. My head aches and my ears seem a little sensitive.”

  “That’s normal,” she replied with a slight nod as she let her hand fall away. “Overuse of Light draws from all of the senses—sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell. You may feel a little overwhelmed for the next few hours, but you’ll make a full recovery.”

  It was reassuring, but my thoughts were on Jackson.

  “I’m not really worried about that, honestly,” I stated as Ramona turned back to her makeshift laboratory. “How’s Jackson?”

  “We’ve managed to slow the transformation for now,” she replied matter-of-factly. “But our attempts to stop the mutation have been thwarted so far.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means he’s taking on the characteristics of a demon. Sorry to put it so bluntly, Scarlett, but that’s the reality of his situation.”

  I swallowed hard and glanced uneasily at Romy, who’s expression was unreadable.

  “Is he going to die from this?”

  “Unlikely,” Ramona replied. “I’ve determined his DNA was compromised when he was first possessed, though the contact was minimal at the time. Which is why it wasn’t detected until now.”

  “The alarms went off when he walked into the Sanctum carrying you,” Romy explained. “We have anti-demon measures set up all along the perimeter of the complex, and something inside him tripped them.”

  Remembering the first time we’d crossed the Sanctum’s threshold, I frowned. Nothing had happened then.

  “He wasn’t yet sufficiently altered for the wards to identify the changes,” Ramona explained, preempting my thoughts. “When we repaired his soul, it dampened the effects. I suspect that why it’s taken so long for his symptoms to manifest.”

  I turned my attention to the medical equipment, not knowing where else to look.

  “Don’t worry. We’re working on it as a priority.”

  “Thank you.”

  The door opened behind us and a man entered, wearing a full Natural uniform—black T-shirt, tactical pants, and combat boots. He whispered something into Romy’s ear before departing, leaving me staring after him curiously. Something was going on.

  “Scarlett,” Romy said, “you’ve been summoned.”

  I scowled and made a face. “They couldn’t wait a day before handing down their verdict? They really like making people squirm, don’t they?”

  The Natural sniggered and nudged me from the room, leaving Ramona to her work.

  “I can see why Wilder likes you,” she said when we were alone again.

  “Wilder hates me,” I declared, my limbs going all wibbly-wobbly. I was still over sensitive after my Light mishap. Yeah, that was it. I’d only woken up a few hours ago, so it stood to reason.

  Romy laughed as we climbed the stairs to the upper floors. “He’s shown an interest in you. He never shows an interest in anything other than killing demons, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s assigned as your mentor.”

  “My what?”

  “Mentor,” she replied. “He’ll train you. Probably. You’re a special case. A late bloomer, so they say.”

  “You think Greer and the others will ask me to become a Natural?” I blinked as if the repetitive motion would teleport me out of the Sanctum and back in time to the moment right before I met Wilder outside of 8-bit. I could use a do-over.

  “Everyone’s saying so,” Romy declared.

  “There’s gossip about me?” My cheeks heated and I started to fret. I didn’t do well being the centre of attention. I liked to melt into the background where it was safe, and no one judged me for being slightly off-centre. That’s why I liked working at 8-bit, the pub where I was so fired from.

  “Of course there is,” she said as we finally turned into a hallway I recognised. “A strange woman shows up in dramatic fashion with the Sanctum’s black sheep? That’s given us fodder for years to come and that’s not even a quarter of what’s happened in the last few weeks. Ah, here we are.”

  She opened the double doors before us and gestured for me to go on ahead while my stomach fluttered with a slew of new butterflies. Talk about constantly being judged.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward into an unknown future.

  The library looked completely different during the day.

  The windows were awash with light, drowning the rows upon rows of leather-bound books in a warmer hue. It didn’t feel stuffy in here at all with the reflection of the stained glass playing across the floor. Even the macabre items in the display cases weren’t so scary now that the sun had risen. I wished I could say the same for the three people waiting in the reading area in the back.

  The room had been cleared for the occasion, and the spaces between the shelves were devoid of other Naturals. It didn’t stop me from feeling as if a thousand pairs of eyes were scrutinising my every step, though. If I knew where the closest toilet was, I would’ve bolted right towards it.

  By the time we reached the end of the room, my heart was beating so fast, I’d stopped my search for the loo and was looking for a defibrillator.

  I was surprised to see Wilder draped over a leather armchair, a look of complete annoyance etched on his face. He hadn’t bothered to dress for the occasion, his knees showing through tears in his jeans and his hair had likely been scraped back with his fingers with a bit of spit to hold it. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and threw on whatever was lying on the floor. His lack of respect for the Naturals’ chain of command was on full display.

  Brax was glaring at Wilder with an air of disapproval as I approached, and the others—Greer and Aldrich—were watching me closely. I wondered where my nerves measured on the Richter scale—probably a twelve point seven.

  “Thank you, Romy,” Greer said, lifting her hand gracefully. “You are dismissed.”

  Romy nodded slightly, then strode away, her footfalls silent on the carpet.

  “We trust you’re feeling much improved?” Aldrich asked.

  “Yes, thank you.” I shuffled from foot to foot. “I’m sorry.
I didn’t understand what I was doing, and… Well, I had to do something.”

  “There’s no need to apologise, Scarlett,” Brax said. “It was unfortunate you had to use your Light so openly, and in such a manner, but what’s done is done.”

  I was fairly sure he was telling me off, but it was so passive-aggressive that he almost had me convinced that I was off the hook.

  “One thing is very clear about this situation…” Aldrich began. “You can’t go back to your old life, Scarlett. It’s far too dangerous.”

  “You’re saying I can’t go home?”

  “It would be unadvisable.”

  “So my only option is to stay in the Sanctum? I can’t leave at all? Well, this blows.” I blew a strand of hair out of my eyes.

  “You came to us wanting to become a Natural,” Greer stated. “Has that wish changed?”

  My breath caught, and I forced myself to keep eye contact and not glance away. Be strong, Scarlett, don’t show them any weakness. I’d dismissed Romy’s earlier assessment as pure speculation based on gossip, but it seemed like it was true.

  “I don’t understand,” I began with a note of skepticism in my voice. “I was under the impression my hesitation nullified my chances.”

  “You must forgive my harsh response,” Brax said. “But it was necessary.”

  “To your bait scheme,” I shot back without missing a beat.

  He nodded, pursing his lips. It seemed Brax didn’t like being talked back to. Duly noted so I could challenge him again.

  “And what about Jackson?” I demanded. “What will happen to him if I refuse?”

  “This conversation is about you, Scarlett,” Aldrich stated. “Your concern for your friend is admirable, but what do you desire?”

  “I…” I glanced at Greer, but she was as stoic as ever.

  “You spoke with great conviction when you last approached us,” Aldrich went on. “Do you still wish to fight the creatures who’ve tried to harm you? The creatures who’ve harmed your friend?”

  I turned towards Wilder, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was picking at his fingernails, looking bored out of his mind. Honestly, it was a little insulting.