The Liberator

33 Crimson Angel

I lift the hem of Charlie’s shirt and press my lips to her bare stomach. Her head falls back, and her hair tickles my hands. I trail my way up her torso, slowly rising to my feet. When I’m standing over her, I stop and cup her face in my hands.

The last time Charlie and I were together, she was the one who took the lead. She showed me where she wanted to be kissed, how she wanted to be touched. But the thought of leaving Charlie, of knowing I may never make it back, makes me crave control.

I push my body against Charlie’s until she’s forced to walk backward. She releases a cry of surprise when her back hits the wall. I silence her with a kiss that borders on forceful. I listen for any sound that tells me she doesn’t want it this way, but there’s nothing to be heard.

My hands find her wrists. I pin them over her head and slide my other hand lower. Leaning forward, I kiss her neck. Then I bite the delicate skin there, soft at first, then much harder. Beneath my lips, I feel her throat vibrate with a small whimper.

“Tell me you want me,” I say, my voice deep with lust.

Charlie is quick to respond. “I want you.”

I spin her around so that her stomach pushes against the wall. My hand releases her wrists, and she reaches back to grab onto my thighs. I press against her harder, my hips connecting with her soft frame. My body swallows hers so easily.

“Take off your shirt,” I command.

I give her only a few seconds before I make my next request. “Your jeans.”

She does as I ask, her breath coming faster.

When she’s stepped out of her jeans, she tries to turn and face me, but I keep her pinned there, my abs pressed against her back. My hands twitch, waiting to be released, and when I can’t stand it another moment, I give them what they want. My fingers slide across every surface of her body until we’re both aching to be together.

I step away and wrap my arm around her upper waist. My other arm circles beneath her legs, and I’m carrying her to the bed.

My lips never stray from her skin.

…

When I wake in the middle of the night, my chest is damp with sweat. I’d been dreaming about hell, about a blade biting into the flesh on my left arm and the clicking of demon nails. And about the devil’s favorite torture devices, most of which include ice.

The bed creaks as I roll over, my arm searching blindly for Charlie.

But she isn’t there.

My pulse picks up immediately. And by the time I’ve stepped into a pair of shorts the Quiet Ones gave me, my heart is pounding in my ears.

Something is wrong.

As soon as I know the answer—Annabelle—I’m rushing from the bedroom. I don’t bother banging on Blue’s door, I just throw it open. He bolts upright, eyes round with surprise. “Charlie is gone,” I tell him. “I think something’s wrong.”

He answers the way anyone would after being awakened. “Whaa?”

“Get out of bed!” I back out of his room and find Aspen staring at me. “How can I help?” she asks.

That simple question provides such clarity that I could weep. Aspen is strong. She is fearless.

She is destined to help me steal back Charlie’s soul.

“Go find Valery and Max,” I order. “And Kraven. Tell them Charlie’s not in her room and that Blue and I are looking for her.” My hand sweeps through my mussed hair. “And tell them we haven’t seen Annabelle since before dinner.”

Aspen races from the room. I’m not sure how she’ll find two liberators and one collector in this honeycomb of a house, but I trust her.

Blue appears after Aspen is gone. “You shouldn’t involve Aspen,” he growls.

I ignore his comment because now isn’t the time. “You take a right down the hallway. If you don’t find Charlie or Annabelle, meet me at the front of the house. The place with the three sets of doors.”

We weave through the lounge and spill into the hallway. I’m about to turn left when Blue says, “They’re probably just in the kitchen getting something to eat.”

I can tell he doesn’t believe that, so I just keep walking.

After twenty minutes of searching, there’s no sign of the girls. I tell every staff member I see to bring Charlie and Annabelle to the entrance if they see them, but when I get there, I only see Blue. The way his face contorts tells me he hasn’t had any luck. I nod toward the first set of doors, and together, we start trying different ones. The doors aren’t locked from the inside, which seems like a gross security fail, but I decide Kraven must have his reasons.

I have no idea how Valery memorizes the order when the doors are always being repainted. For a moment, I consider trying to find the hidden door at the back of the mansion, the one Kraven took me through yesterday morning. But I decide if Charlie and Annabelle went outside for whatever idiotic reason, they would have gone this way.

After more than two dozen unsuccessful attempts, Blue and I finally land outside. The moon is full overhead, casting enough light so that I can easily see. As we spread out, our shoes crunching over patches of snow, my heart climbs into my throat. I start thinking about the sirens, about why they’ve been stalking out here in the cold instead of trying to break in. Are they waiting for the collectors to recruit more of them? And why aren’t the liberators doing anything besides training? I hate that we’re practicing defense when we should be all offense.

Then I think of something else, something that makes my breath catch.

Maybe the sirens are waiting for Charlie to come to them. Wouldn’t that be easier? It’s not like she’d stay inside the Hive forever. Sooner or later, she’d go outside—to take a walk, to see the ocean up close.

To find a missing friend.

Before I know what I’m doing, my legs are pumping beneath me. I abandon trying to be quiet and call out her name. “Charlie! Charlie, are you out here?”

Blue follows my lead, and why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t know about the sirens on the cliffside. He knows it’s safe inside the Hive, and that the outside is uncertain, but he doesn’t know how many of the collector’s soldiers cling to the rocks above the sea.

“Annabelle?” Blue hollers. “Charlie?”

A scream rips through the muggy night air.

Blue and I look at each other for one brief moment. Then we’re running. My arms whip up and back, and I sprint like I’m competing in the hundred-yard dash, like every hundredth of a second means the difference between success and failure.

Blue and I round the house, and I see a shape spread out along the ground. As I get closer, I make out short dark hair splayed over pale skin. Annabelle. She’s still so far away. It’ll take time to get to her. Too much time.

I see someone standing near Annabelle’s still body. Their arms are open wide, and they’re walking fast toward Anna.

“Stop!” I shout. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.”

By some miracle, the person stops moving. I run faster. Faster. Blue is at my heels. We’re only a few feet away when I see who’s walking toward Annabelle.

It’s Charlie.

Her hands are covered in something dark and wet. She drops to her knees.

As Blue rushes to Annabelle’s still form, I race toward Charlie. I reach out to touch her, but she stops me with a stare. Her eyes are wild and ferocious, and I’m not sure what she’ll do if I get any closer.

She raises her palms to the sky like she’s making an offering. She looks like an angel.

An angel painted in blood.

The blood is everywhere. It drips from her fingers. It covers her chest. It’s in her hair. Along her neck. There’s even a splatter of dark-colored dots peppering her left ear.

I don’t care where the blood came from. The Quiet Ones will fix it. They’ll make Charlie better. And they’ll make Annabelle wake up.

My arms snake around Charlie, and she stares at me like she’s not sure who I am.

I guide her toward Annabelle. Blue has to get her. He’s got to help Annabelle, and we have to get both of them inside. Now.

Blue turns toward me, but I can’t see the expression on his face. If he looks grief-stricken, I will hit him. Annabelle has to be okay. She has to. Blue wraps himself around Annabelle and starts to stand. I hear Anna groan, and I’m so relieved, I think my knees may buckle. But they can’t. I have to be strong. Strong enough for me and Charlie both.

I follow behind Blue as he walks Annabelle back toward the front of the house.

My heart hammers in my chest, and all I think is, Get inside—get inside—get inside.

The four of us have only made it ten feet when I hear Charlie mutter something.

I try to ignore it. I can only focus on one thing right now, and that’s getting us out of here before the sirens climb up from their grave.

Charlie speaks again, and this time I hear her. I hear her, but I don’t want to.

She repeats herself over and over. I try to shush her, but when I do, she raises her voice.

“I killed him,” she says. “He’s dead, and I did it.”

Blue doesn’t take another step even though I’m telling him to hurry the hell up.

“It was a siren, I think. It must have been.” Charlie holds her hands out again. “I didn’t think it would kill him.”

“What?” Blue asks, his arms still holding Annabelle upright. “What killed him?”

Charlie smiles. I know it’s a nervous gesture, but it sends a chill up my spine all the same. “He was crouched in front of Annabelle. He wouldn’t get away from her. He was going to hurt my best friend.” She shakes her head. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“Blue, move!” I yell.

He remembers we’re outside and turns back to his burden. For every two strong steps he takes, Annabelle takes one labored one. He’s all but dragging her behind him, and that’s fine as long as it gets her closer to safety.

Charlie keeps talking beside me. “It’s like he was waiting for me,” she says, her voice devoid of emotion. “So I let him come. I ran away from Annabelle so he’d chase me and get away from her. And then I turned and faced him.” Charlie puts a hand to her chest like she’s feeling for something that isn’t there. When she pulls her palm away, there’s a bloody handprint left behind. “I stabbed the horn directly into his eye. And his eye…it just burst. So then I tried to stab him in the other eye. But I missed and got his throat. After that, I just kept going at his face until he stopped—”

“You did what you had to do,” I say, cutting her off. My arm grips her waist so hard I know it must inflict pain. But I can’t loosen my grasp. I may never take my hands off her again.

“Do you hear that?” Charlie asks. She sounds like a child, like she’s asking about ice cream instead of demons buried by the dark.

I spin around and see what she heard—the shadow of a man creeping slowly toward us.

“Blue,” I say, instilling as much calm into my voice as I can. “I want you to take Charlie and get the two of them inside.”

His gaze meets mine. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but I already know.

“We’re cool,” I tell him. “We’re always cool. Now go.”

When I crane my head back around, I find that the siren is now racing forward. I fill my lungs and then start running in his direction, too. It’s just one siren, just one, and behind me is my world.

We’re only a few feet apart when I realize his eyes aren’t on me. They’re set on the people fleeing toward the house. He snarls, and his shoes pound the earth. He’s so close now. Close enough that I reach out to grab him. But I miss. I made a mistake. I misjudged how fast he was going, and now he’s past me and crashing toward Charlie like a bolt of lightning.

“Blue!” It’s the only word I can get out.

Blue jumps into action. He lets go of Annabelle and leaps in front of Charlie. His arms spread out behind him, pushing her back.

But the siren speeds past Blue and Charlie both.

I suddenly understand who he is headed for, who he was always headed for.

And now it’s too late.