Apocalypse the Blossoming (The Power of Twelve Book 2) Page 8

  Hunter sits at the front table with two women on either side of him. He rises to his feet as we enter, clapping his hands. Silence falls across the room. All eyes turn to us. Great, it’s not like I was already uncomfortable or anything, let’s add to it. Probably because he senses my hesitation, Efram takes my hand in his and squeezes reassuringly. I give him a smile.

  “Our guests of honor have arrived,” Hunter says. “Please, make them feel welcome!”

  Everyone stands and applauds like we’re some kind of returning heroes. My cheeks burn, and I stare at the floor in front of us. Shifting from foot to foot, I wait for it to be over. I don’t want to be here. My magic rises, tingling across my skin, and I know I have at least one way out. Not a good one. Efram must sense it because he tightens his grip on my hand.

  “Careful,” he hisses.

  Yeah, right. It doesn’t matter that they’re all crazy—I can’t create a scene here.

  “Come,” Hunter says, motioning us forward. “Join me. We’re having a feast in your honor.”

  In our honor? Due to what? Because we showed up? This is the craziest thing ever. Another testament to how insane this place is.

  Be that as it may, Efram and I walk between the rows of tables and around to the seats on Hunter’s right. He resumes his seat, and once he does, everyone else sits down. The clatter of silverware and chairs echoes.

  Hunter picks up a small bell sitting next to his plate. He listens carefully then shakes it. A crystal-clear ringing sound echoes. Servants carrying trays laden with food march out. The first course is quickly placed before each of the guests. I stare at it and realize I have no idea what it is. It smells good, edible at least, but knowing what we found earlier I’m scared to try it.

  Efram passes his hand over it casually, and I feel his magic surge. He mouths to me that it’s okay. I nod and then go ahead and eat whatever the hell it is on my plate. There’s a little buzz of conversation around the room, but it never grows very loud.

  “So, what brought you to our Bunker? All of us have a tale of how we ended up here,” Hunter asks, after the second course is served. “We want to hear your story.”

  My hand stops halfway to my mouth with a forkful of food. I swallow the last of what’s in my mouth, glance at Efram, and then smile at Hunter.

  “I’m sure it’s not that interesting,” I reply.

  “No,” Hunter says, idiotic grinning turning fully on me. “We want to hear it, don’t we?”

  He motions out across the room, and there’s an immediate response of people murmuring and nodding. If they’re actually interested or just afraid of and weirded out by Hunter I can’t tell. All their eyes are on us, and it’s clear we’re not going to get out of this without telling some kind of a story. Efram clears his throat, and I think he’s about to say something, but I jump into the pool with both feet.

  “We were traveling when our railcar was attacked,” I say, using part of the truth to give more meat to the lie and avoid telling too much. “We’re supposed to be at Bunker 3 but of course, we didn’t make it. We’re so glad you took us in. If you hadn’t…”

  I trail off and stare into the distance, even summoning a tear to help sell the story.

  “We lost several of our companions,” Efram adds, embellishing the story.

  “A sad tale,” Hunter says, nodding enthusiastically. “What happened to them?”

  He leans towards me in a manner that is somehow even creepier. His energy is so wrong. It’s bad enough being in the same room with him, but when he comes closer it’s worse. My skin crawls, and every fiber of me wants to run away from him. Anything to escape his presence. Bile rises in my throat, and I have to force it down. Throwing up on your host is probably bad form, not that I’m ever going to win any awards for my social skills.

  “Dead,” I say, forcing my voice neutral.

  He waits, leaning in closer, it feels like he’s begging for more without saying a word. He wants the details, and I don’t want to give them and not just because I’m making this up. I don’t want to do anything that makes him happy. He’s too damn creepy.

  “Well…” he says, trailing off himself raising the sensation of tension between us.

  If nothing else, I can be one stubborn bitch when I want to and right now I want nothing more. Mentally I dig in my heels, making up my mind that there’s no way in all the nine hells I’m going to play along with whatever his sick game is. Screw you, Hunter.

  “It’s too gruesome to relate,” Efram says. I squeeze his thigh under the table digging my nails in making sure he knows I want him to shut up. “This dinner is too nice to sully with it.”

  “Right,” Hunter says, the tension drains as he leans back in his seat. “Dinner.”

  He looks around. Everyone is staring at him waiting, I could hear a pin drop in the back of the room. My skin itches and crawls as my magic rises in anticipation. Everything about this situation is wrong. It’s not just his creep factor, which is off the charts, it’s the way everybody acts. The way they look at him. It’s like they’re afraid to breathe without his permission. I don’t know what he is, and that worries me.

  “What are you waiting for?” Hunter exclaims suddenly. “Bring on the next course!”

  Now everything returns to some semblance of normal. Everyone starts eating and the slow buzz of conversation resumes. The servants come out, clearing the plates in front of us away and replacing them with a fresh course.

  I stare at the… thing on my plate. I’m not sure what it is but it looks disgusting. I’m relatively sure it’s meat but I have no idea what the source is. If I had to hazard a guess it looks like it’s a sausage? Maybe? Oh God, please let it be a sausage. My stomach turns as I consider the other possibility of what might be and where it might’ve come from.

  Meat is hard to come by in the Apocalypse. Domestic animals were one of the first casualties. Between people over farming them and the general difficulty of trying to raise them underground in limited space it’s a luxury reserved for the rich. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Efram passing his hand over the plate, casually. He recoils, slightly, doing his best to cover it up, but I don’t miss it. I catch his eye, and he gives me the barest of head shakes. Thanks, as if I needed any more encouragement to not eat whatever the hell it is on my plate.

  “You absolutely must try the meat,” Hunter says, staring at the two of us with his fixed smile and crazy eyes. “It’s to die for.”

  Great choice of words there, Hunter. Since that’s exactly what I’m afraid will happen. Now that I think of it, that could be the best thing that could happen. It’s the Apocalypse, there are worse things than dying.

  “We rarely eat meat,” Efram says. “It really doesn’t agree with us.”

  “But I insist,” Hunter says, his voice soft and menacing.

  The room drops into silence once more. Efram and Hunter stare at each other, a contest of wills.

  “And we both really appreciate it,” Efram says. “I’m sure though that you do not wish to make your guests ill. The last time we had meat our bodies rejected it. It was highly unpleasant.”

  “I see,” Hunter says, nodding slowly.

  He continues staring but Efram meets his gaze apparently unfazed. A slow smile spreads across Efram’s face, and I feel his energy shifting. My own magic rises, and I glance around the room noting the exits and the positioning of everyone else. To say we’re outnumbered would be an understatement, but at the same time I feel confident we can get out of here if we need to.

  I can’t get a read on Hunter. That’s part of what I find to be so wrong with him. I instinctively read the energy of everyone I meet, and it tells me a lot. I don’t get that same feedback when I look at Hunter. He’s hiding his true nature.

  “I hope you understand,” Efram continues. “We don’t want to be rude, but I believe it would be more insulting if we were to be such poor company as to allow ourselves to become sick.”

  The tension builds. The ha
ir on my arms stands on end. This is going to go bad, I can feel it. My breath becomes shallow and my heart rate increases. Hunter and Efram stare at each other in a battle of wills. Every eye in the room is on us. I slowly clench a fist, preparing.

  “Of course,” Hunter says, laughing.

  I take my first deep breath and let it out. My heart rate slows to normal as the moment passes. Dammit, that was close. Hunter digs into his plate making a show of eating the meat. The strangeness of the situation continues to bother me, but it is what it is. We must get through it. I really wish Rafe and Nathaniel would get back. I’d love to be out of here.

  Cordy walks forward to stand in front of Efram and me. He wrings his hands and looks from me over to Hunter then back to me.

  “Hi Cordy,” I say, trying to encourage him.

  It seems to help, he straightens up and squares his shoulders. His hands drop to his sides, and a small smile appears on his face. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Hunter is watching us with interest, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “I just want to suggest that you all get a blood mark,” Cordy says. “It’ll keep the haunts out of your head. You need all the protection you can get from them.”

  I don’t know what it is about the words he says, but a cold chill runs down my spine. A blood mark? It doesn’t sound like something I’m interested in having. I think I’ll stick to my sigils that Nathaniel has given me.

  “Thank you,” I say, not wanting to be mean. “We will take that under advisement.”

  Cordy nods enthusiastically, almost like he becomes a bobblehead. He backs away without turning around continuing to nod.

  “You got to be careful,” he says. “The haunts are getting more restless.”

  “We will,” I say.

  “I think we should retire for the night,” Efram says, directing his words towards Hunter. “This meal has been quite delightful. A true pleasure.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Hunter says, his face and eyes unreadable.

  “It was truly an enlightening experience,” Efram says, rising to his feet.

  I stand up along with him. Everyone in the room has once again stopped and is watching the exchange between Hunter and me. It’s strangely like being on a television show, being the center of attention whether you want it or not. Everyone waiting to see what happens next as if some great cliffhanger is about to be revealed.

  I follow Efram around the table, and we make our way down between the rows of onlookers to exit the dining hall. Their eyes bore into me but I do my best to ignore it.

  Breathe, Aviella, I remind myself. Keep your shoulders square, stand up straight, don’t slouch, good. One foot in front of the other.

  When we turn the corner, I breathe a sigh of relief. No longer having their eyes upon me is a huge weight off. Silently Efram and I make our way back to the room we’ve claimed as our bunks. Once we’re in there Efram looks around making sure that we’re alone. The only sounds are the low roars that have become the white noise of Wormwood. Screeches of monsters and roars of what Efram says are mammoths. It’s run-of-the-mill.

  “Thank God that’s over,” I say. “Where in the hell are Rafe and Nathaniel?”

  “They’ll be back soon,” Efram says, a certainty in his voice.

  “Are you sure?

  Efram grimaces and avoids my direct gaze.

  “They damn well better be,” he mutters.

  I feel like I need to take a shower, but I know it won’t do any good. What I want is to wash the feel of this place away. It’s gross and pervasive and I don’t like it. As if on cue there is a particularly raucous round of screeches and howls that make me jump. Efram wraps his arms around me, and I return the embrace gratefully.

  “Thank you,” I say, my voice muffled by his chest.

  “For what?” he asks.

  “For being you,” I say, my heart swelling.

  Our energy intertwines as I embrace him in a way that is more than physical. He holds me until the noise dies down and at last we both step apart, if somewhat reluctantly.

  “You should get some sleep,” he says.

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  I am exhausted. A weariness ago that goes clear down into my bones. Dealing with Hunter is draining. I climb up into the bunk and pull a cover over. Efram sits down at the table and leans his chair back against the wall.

  My eyes drift closed, and I’m just about asleep when the sound of buzzing outside the walls jerks me awake. It’s definitely locusts, and it sounds like they’re trying to eat their way through the metal walls. My heart pounds and I can’t catch my breath.

  “It’s a swarm of them,” Efram says, standing next to the bunk. “They’ll pass soon, they can’t get in here.”

  He takes my hands in his, and a relaxing warmth spreads up through my arms reaching into my chest. My heart rate slows, and I’m able to breathe normally again. Swallowing, I nod and lie back down. Efram stands watch over me as I drift off to sleep. Knowing he’s there, I feel safe. Hopefully in the morning Rafe and Nathaniel will be back.

  Chapter Twelve

  Efram and Rafe walk towards me. They’re both grinning and their eyes are alight with delight. Then it suddenly hits me that I’m naked.

  “Guys, what’s happening,” I say, trying to cover myself up.

  I reach for a towel or blanket or something to cover myself, but I can’t pick up anything. Hands refuse to clench. I look back at the two guys approaching and they laugh.

  “It’s okay, Aviella,” Rafe says, but it’s not his voice. Something’s wrong.

  “We just want to make you ours,” he says.

  “You belong with us,” Efram says.

  Their faces are changing. Something is way wrong. My heart pounds, and I reach for my magic. An empty void is where it should be. There’s nothing. Fear grips me as cold sweat forms across my skin.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head from side to side.

  Their hands reach for me, but it’s not their hands. Reddish skin ending in black talons reaches, grasping at the air in front of me. I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes out. I try to back away but it’s like I’m moving through heavy water. Their eyes glow with an infernal light. On their foreheads is that same symbol that has haunted my dreams.

  “Aviella,” their voice melts into one, hollow and echoing. “You belong to us.”

  I trip as I back up, falling and falling and then I slam down on the bed; my eyes jerk open as I startle awake. A loud moaning assaults my ears. Rolling onto my side, my skin tingles in response to active magic.

  I blink rapidly trying to clear the sleep from my eyes. Is this real?

  Ethereal apparitions pour into the room, coming through the walls. Efram is fighting against them, weaving spells, throwing up shields and trying to hold them at bay. The hair on my arms stands on end, electric with the magic in the air.

  “Aviella, be careful,” Efram yells over his shoulder.

  I drop off my bunk and land on my feet, pulling my magic. Thankfully, it responds as it should. The things approaching us must be the haunts that Cordy warned us about. They are pale, almost see-through, with drawn faces floating through the air. I don’t know what they can do to us, and I don’t want to find out. The room is filled with their moans, which make my ears ache. It’s heartbreaking. There’s a pulsing emptiness, an overwhelming sadness to their situation.

  While they’re attacking Efram, the ones approaching me pause. They lean in but don’t reach forward. I’m surrounded by the creatures, and all of them cock their heads looking at me.

  “It’s not safe, hide. It’s not safe.”

  All of them speak as one, and the voice is hollow and terrifying.

  “What you mean?” I ask.

  “I mean, fight!” Efram says. “Are you okay?”

  “Not you,” I respond.

  “Who the hell are you talking to?” Efram asks amidst a flash of light, as he throws a magic bolt through one of the creatures.
/>   “It’s not safe. Hide. Run!”

  They stare, empty eyes focused on me, and there’s a strange depth to them. Everything else drops away. I have to listen to them. They know something I need to know. They’re warning me, but what are they warning me away from?

  “Aviella!” Efram yells.

  It seems like his voice comes from a long distance. Down the tunnel, drifting towards me. I should respond. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter, I have to figure this out.

  Are they playing with my head? Is this real?

  They motion, shaking their heads, continuing to speak in a chorus of one unified voice. It’s fascinating, pulling me in, holding my attention.

  Aviella, a voice, different and distant. It sounds like it’s coming across a really bad phone connection. Filled with static and crackling.

  “Who is that?” I ask.

  “Aviella, who are you talking to,” Efram says, urgency in his voice. “Fight! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I snap. “Let me listen.”

  The haunts repeat the phrase over and over. I try to focus beyond it.

  Aviella, wake up. You have to wake up now!

  “Daddy?” My voice trembles. It can’t be, can it?

  Wake up! Sweet baby, you’ve got to wake up now!

  “Daddy!”

  It’s him, I know it. It still sounds like he’s talking to me from a tunnel filled with static and interference. I don’t know what he is saying, it doesn’t make any sense. Wake up, I did wake up!

  “Aviella, who are you talking to? Come on girl, talk to me,” Efram says, desperation in his voice.

  “It’s my dad,” I say. “He says we have to wake up.”

  “What?” Efram asks, glancing over his shoulder at me.

  It’s a dream, Aviella. Wake up.

  The haunts surrounding me yell at me that I should run and hide. I have to figure this out. Am I still sleep? There’s only one way to know.