Twice Born

Chapter 16

“Are you listening to me?” Tristan waves a hand in front of my face. “We have to get out of here. It won’t be long before more Trackers reach this area.”

Eve has faded into the background. She’s silent, but the damage has been done. I’ve seen too much. Understand too much. About her—but about myself, too.

I killed my father.

My legs give out. I sink into the grass, clutching my stomach. No wonder my memories about his death seemed hazy. I always sensed something was wrong, but I fought hard to suppress it, unable to bear the truth.

To think that I had the audacity to call Eve a cold-blooded killer all these years. I was the one who started it all.

 “Bree? Is that you?”

“I know what happened to my father,” I blurt out. “What I d-did to him. I saw it in Eve’s mind.”

I hunch over, folding in on myself to contain my pain. My childhood was a lie. How could I have been so blind? If I listened to Eve long before that day, could I have prevented everything? Would my mother still be alive and my brother safe?

Tristan grabs me under the arm and pulls me to my feet. “Don’t give up on me now. We have to go.”

He sounds like he cares. I wonder if he knows how much Eve wishes she could love him. He annoys and exasperates her, but she doesn’t push him away. She hopes she’ll feel something for him someday. Only then will she be certain she’s entirely human.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tristan asks.

I shake my head and draw my coat tightly around me. The sheathed Scarlet Blade is heavy under my belt, jabbing against my thigh with each step. We start walking down the hill. I hobble along, weak with fatigue and hunger. Tristan holds onto my arm.

I hope for his sake he hasn’t grown too attached to Eve. She doesn’t believe she’ll ever feel anything for him. Monsters don’t fall in love.

Damn you, Bree.

Her malice startles me. It shouldn’t. Because now I know everything.

She wants me gone.

I’m a heavy noose around her neck, slowly choking the life out of her. She can’t ever let her guard down with me. She doesn’t live a single day without worrying what I might try to do to her—whether I’ll succeed in eclipsing her.

A few Freed at the Pit reassured her that won’t happen; that it’s a matter of time before she’s in full control. But she knows something is different about me. She knew this from the moment she watched me turn a fragile daisy into a steely sword.

If she doesn’t kill me first, she believes I’ll find a way to rid myself of her.

Tristan curses and squeezes my arm. I jerk out of my thoughts. In the distance, five men march along the dirt path, coming toward us.

Judging by the purposefulness of their gait and the swords at their waists, no doubt they’re Trackers. They’re far away enough that they haven’t pinpointed the flare yet. But they have spotted us; one of them places a hand on the hilt of his weapon.

Tristan stops and turns to me, leaning in. He’s trying to make us appear harmless; two lovers stopping to share romantic words. But his expression is anything but loving. And I’m too busy staring over his shoulder at the Trackers to feel unease at his proximity.

They slow down and huddle together, speaking in hushed whispers. I’m worried they identified me and are now plotting my capture, but it seems doubtful. They wouldn’t give me this chance to escape. More likely they’re gauging the direction of the flare, deciding how to proceed.