“Whatever you have to,” Cornelius responds. I pull my sword from its scabbard, gripping the hilt with two hands. Then I glance between Cornelius and Jacob and say, “Grab onto me. I don't know if it means anything or not, but it makes me feel better.”
They do as asked without question, and then I grip the hilt of my sword more tightly, lifting it and driving it deeply into the scorched earth.
At first, nothing happens, but them just as panic begins to erupt inside me, the sword begins to glow and all of that outside noise from the storm ceases to exist. The sky falls away, taking the storm with it as everything turns into nothing. First the sky then the forest, it all melts away until this small patch of scorched earth is nothing but an island, an oasis hanging suspended in the nothing.
I look to Cornelius and Jacob, who are also staring at the sudden change of landscape. The sudden silence, deafening. The distinct absence of life, disturbing.
Foreign noise breaks through, and I strain my ears trying to pinpoint the sound. Stone grinding on stone, like an archaic lock not wanting to release.
“Oh, shit,” Jacob mutters. Then he turns to me and says, “Brace yourself.”
I'm not sure what he means by brace myself, considering there's literally nothing to brace myself against. So instead, I tighten my grip on the sword hilt and then watch in horror as the scorched earth fades.
For a moment, we're suspended in the air as if time has paused and it's waiting for redirection.
With one final ominous clank, everything releases, my stomach flipping as gravity lashes onto me. And then we’re falling.
THIRTY-THREE
A FIERY VEIN
Zion
I come awake violently,scrambling to my feet, fists raised defensively.
Or at least that’s what I did in my mind.
In reality, I struggled ineffectively against the bonds securing me to the most uncomfortable stone table ever created.
Craning my head around, I attempt to get a look at my surroundings. It appears to be the same scene as it was before I got myself knocked out, so I go back to lying prone, staring up into the darkness.
Squinting, I try to get a better look, confused that I'm not seeing some kind of ceiling, and then I realize there's an opening over the altar that I'm lying on. “Great,”I mutter, having a few ideas onwhat Gemma is up to, and none of them being good.
Lightning flashes from above, a swirl of wind falls on top of me, and that's when I realize someone undressed me.
I glance down at my body, frowning to see that someone had changed my clothing. My lip curls into a grimace, a shiver of disgust rolling over me at the thought of all those nasty hands on me while I was knocked out.
Knowing I have bigger problems right now, I push the thought aside, close my eyes, and inhale slowly as I work to center myself. But no sooner do I touch the calm stillness beneath than I'm jarred back to reality.
My eyes fly open as his hands grab onto both my wrists and ankles. More Vivian clones surround me. I can only imagine what Gemma hopes to accomplish with her presence. Apparently, she's too stupid to understand that we're connected so infinitely that any variation of an impostor will never get her anywhere.
Gemma appears at my side, and, knowing it will irritate her, I intentionally ignore her. She leans over so her face is directly in front of mine. The sickly-sweet smile on her lips turns my stomach. She gives my cheek a light tap, and I force myself not to flinch away or lash out at her. Complete detachment is the best option at this point.
Her smile falls. Her brow creases as she frowns, and then she tsks, giving me another slap before straightening and disappearing from view. Unable to help myself, I lift my head slightly, looking around for her, only to find her now standing at my feet. She grips my ankles, her touch cold, and when her hands move up my shins, I ask, “What do you think you're doing?”
She raises her brows, self-satisfaction oozing off her features as she says, “I certainly shouldn't have to explain myself.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, then rest my head back down on the stone. Closing my eyes, I go back to ignoring her, even as her hands trail up higher and higher, and there’s a flutter of clothing tickling my legs as she climbs up on the altar with me. Shestraddles my hips, and I don't even attempt to hide my disgust. She rubs herself against me. And then she says, in what I can only assume is her sultry tone, “I see someone's happy to see me.”
I roll my eyes and snort. “Did you miss the memo on dicks, Gemma?”
“The what?”
“Dicks are stupid. In situations such as this, it doesn't mean anything.”
She stops moving and then remains quiet for so long that I finally chance a glance at her. She's frowning at me, looking annoyed but no less discouraged, so I add, “Regardless of how my body may or may not respond, you know that's not how this works, right?”
Her expression turns pinched as she replies, “You don't know that for sure.”
