Part 2 (2/2)

I sweep my bangs out of my face. ”Sylas, I think Tristan was going to bite me. Does that mean he's a Day Taker?”

Sylas shakes his head and glances at Tristan. ”He doesn't feel the same as a Day Taker, but I don't think he's human either, so we better get him chained up.”

We leave the room. Unexpectedly, Sylas heads for the roof. He weaves up the staircase and pushes out the steel door.

Ash rains down from the sky and I s.h.i.+eld my eyes. ”You're locking him up on the roof?”

”It's as good as place as any.” He drops Tristan on the ground and disappears around a domed skylight where he drags out a set of heavy chains. ”Besides, it's harder for anyone to hear him screaming from all the way up here.”

”You're not going to torture him, Sylas.” I stand between the two of them. ”I won't let you.”

”I'm not going to torture him.” He pushes me aside and winds the chains around Tristan's wrists. ”As long as he cooperates. But I don't want the others knowing he's here.” He clips the chains together with a solid lock and the chains draw together, pinning Tristan's arms tight. ”You should know better than anyone that they don't welcome strangers.”

I stare him down, desperate to feel if he's lying. Sylas is the exception to my gift; he's a rock hard barrier that's difficult to penetrate.

”I don't know how many times I have to tell you, Kayla,” Sylas dusts the dirt from his hands. ”I don't lie. That's my brother's thing.”

My heart races as I think of Aiden and his death. ”How long do you think Tristan will be out?”

”Depends on if he's human or not, I guess,” Sylas says with a half-hearted shrug. ”If he's not human, he should be up soon.” A shadow masks his face. ”Seeing how he'd be stronger.”

”Stronger than what?” Tristan's weary voice startles us.

Instinctively, we reel. Sylas steps in front of me, blocking me from Tristan's reach. It's an overly protective gesture that perplexes me to no end. Just when I think I've gotten him figured out, he does something that completely contradicts his normal character. But being me, I sidestep him to fully see Tristan. I'm not afraid of him, but I don't think I'll be running up and giving him a hug either.

Sylas' eyes flash with annoyance and the desire to devour. ”You tell us.” He crouches down in Tristan's face. ”Why are you here? And what are you?”

Tristan glances at me helplessly. ”I don't know. I-I can't remember.”

”Nice try.” Sylas snaps out his teeth, which are sharp enough to kill a human if used the right way. ”Now, I'm only going to ask you one more time. Why are you here? And what are you?”

Tristan's blue eyes bulge wide and he clumsily scoots back, lagging the chains, and presses his back against the skylight. ”What are you? Some kind of vampire?”

Sylas crawls on his hands and knees toward Tristan, his teeth pointing out and beaming in the glow the fires cast across the night sky. It's his predator state and I know from experience that if pushed hard enough, he will lose control.

”You're not in any state to ask questions,” Sylas growls. ”Only answer them.”

Tears flood Tristan's cheeks. ”I don't know what to do.”

Deciding to intervene, I move between them and bend down to Tristan's eyelevel. ”You don't remember me at all?” I ask. ”You used to know mea”I used to live at The Colony. My name's Kayla.”

”Kaylaa from The Colony.” He tries to recollect, but his eyes are uncomprehending. ”What's your last name?”

”I don't have one,” I say. ”But some people call me Juniper.”

He shakes his head and sobs. ”I don't know you. Please, just let me go.”

I sigh and tug Sylas toward the door. ”I think we might need Emmy's help with this.”

He grins wickedly and rubs his hands together. ”I love it when you're ruthless.”

”I'm not ruthless,” I protest. ”I just want answers, especially if he came here looking for me.”

”Yeah, but why not suggest the minte?” His grin broadens. He moves his lips to my ear, his broad chest pus.h.i.+ng against my shoulder. ”Face it Kayla, you're just as cold-hearted as the rest of us.”

I don't deny it. ”Just go get Emmy.”

Sylas shrugs and ducks through the door. Once he's gone, I turn to Tristan. He looks the same on the outside, but on the inside there's emptiness. Was this what I looked like right after The Gathering? Is this what I look like now?

”You're not one of them,” he says, eyeing me over. ”You're different.”

”I'm not one of who?” I try to break through whatever it is he's hiding.

”Those things in there.” He nods his head at the roof door. ”Those half-breeds.”

”You know about the half-breeds?” In a few strides, I close the gap between us. But I still keep enough s.p.a.ce that the chains won't allow him to reach me.

His heart is as still as a statue. ”They're abominations, you know. They're not supposed to exist.” He pauses, his dark gaze making me squirm. ”Like you. You were supposed to be dead.”

”And what are you?” I challenge. ”What did the Highers do to you when I left? Did theya Did Monarch turn you into something?”

His blue eyes darken and blend in with the night. He skulks, lazy movements, towing the chains with him. ”I'm what they need me to be for the time being. I'm the one they sent to kill you. After they found out you were alive, they had to find a way for you to die.” His voice lowers. ”You shouldn't have been out in the streets. Monarch taught you to be better than that.”

My jaw falls and everything moves quickly, rushes of images that are barely comprehendible. Tristan lunges for me, a loud snap, and then his hands are around my neck.

”Tristan,” I choke, shoving my hands against his chest. ”Stop it!”

He only squeezes tighter. ”You have to die, Kayla. You just have to.”

”The world's life is in your hands,” Monarch's voice whispers in my head. ”You can't die! Fight!”

Staring into Tristan's eyes is like looking into a Highers' eyes. Slanting my head back, I suck a small breath through my nose and thrust my head into Tristan's face. The sound of the impact is like bricks being smashed against a wall. His eyes roll back into his head and his hands slip from my neck.

Spots tickle my vision and I stagger from left to right. Tristan collapses to the ground, moaning in agony. My legs tremble to fall, the sky spins with such force that the smoke dances and twirls, and my head sings a tune. I fall for the concrete floor, but hands brace me.

”Your head's not a weapon.” Sylas peers down at me. ”Next time use something else on him.”

”Great advice.” I clutch my head, blinking wildly as I regain my balance and wiggle from Sylas. ”But it was all I could think of at the moment.”

Tristan fights to get up, huffing and puffing, his face red. ”Whata happened? Why am I here? Who are you?”

”He's insane.” Sylas nods his head at him. ”Emmy, you might as well get it over with. He's getting on my nerves.”

Emmy stalks from the shadows of the doorway. Her hair blows in the wind, her boots scuff the ground, and her gaze locks on Tristan as if he's a delicious treat. She whisks like a phantom, as if she's flying. Her arms soar up and her fingers pierce against Tristan's temples. It's like watching someone die, only the mind still thrives, and Tristan's body becomes immobile.

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