Aisha had once told him that he was a closet adrenaline-junkie. Colin had argued that there was no such thing, therefore, he couldn’t possibly be one. Alisa had asked what Aisha had meant by that, and she explained, “You know how Colin looks so proper, and everyone thinks that we’re a bad influence coz we get him into trouble all the time? That’s coz he never initiates doing the fun stuff, but once he gets into it, he jumps in with both feet, eyes closed, and totally owns it. It’s so goddamn annoying.”
He had insisted at that time that it wasn’t true, but they didn’t believe him. “Oh yeah? Then what
“Core,” Colin said, his face tight with pain. Zafir frowned, not understanding the prince’s order. Colin was still too hurt to speak in full sentences. He would cough up blood and lose his breath after every fourth word or so. Still, he tried. “Bring me—core—I need—” cough, blood, gasp “—see, I’ll fix…core—”“How will you fix it? You can barely even bre
“I told you this would happen!” I yelled. “I told you this was a terrible idea—” I ducked as an outstretched claw flew past, barely a foot away from my face. The Anomaly that it belonged to looked like a cross between a black chicken and a lizard, its feathers glinting in the light as if they were scales, squawking angrily as its prize (my head) evaded it for the second time in as many minutes.“Stop scream
We flew for a few minutes in relative silence. Jester got regular updates from the three agents that Madam Josefa had ordered to accompany us every minute or so. One flew ahead, while the other two were behind us, eliminating as many Anomalies as they could to clear our way. I gave them a heads-up whenever I sensed Anomalies that were too close or moved too fast for my peace of mind. They found that really impressive, and one of them—a guy they called Kaye, a talkative, friendly type—jokingly said that if he could trade Gifts with me (he can apparently make his hair glow in the dark), it would be his ticket to Anom
Jester’s first strike missed by an inch—maybe less—while the second one flew right over his opponent’s head. This guy is trouble, he thought, swiftly dodging a blow that would have knocked him several feet into the air if it connected. He shouldn’t have seen me coming…He landed lightly on the Anomaly’s back, balancing on the balls of his feet, but the creature bucked in surprise at their sudden movements. Thinking his opponent would be similarly outbalanced, Jester took the opportunity to strike at the man’s side—or leg, whichever he could reach—but
“Is it me,” one of the Agents asked, landing neatly on the back of his wyvern after executing a somersault move with a sword that beheaded three Anomalies at once, “or are the Anomalies getting more and more aggressive?”“It’s my fault,” I said apologetically. “They really want to eat me.”The tower was within sight—a tall pilar of stone with a black glass top that reflected the fiery
I hate pain. A lot of people do, really, and it’s not difficult to imagine why. It’s very unpleasant, for one thing; and it twists your face into these horrible expressions that are not flattering at all; but the main reason why I dislike it so much is because pain, among all other emotions, is the easiest to lose yourself in.For an empath like me, it’s also the easiest to manipulate.
“Put both palms on the indicated spaces, dear,” Grandpa Alamo instructed. The spell-circle changed form again for the third time, becoming wider and more complex. It also adjusted itself so that I could remain standing with my back straight and put my palms down in a more relaxed posture. I supposed Grandpa Alamo was trying to make me as comfortable as possible. I took a deep breath. “I’m ready.” I hope.“A
“Oh my god, what is he doing here?” I gasped in surprise, the pillow slipping out of my hands.“How rude,” Bea said, glancing up at the clock on the wall. “It’s nearly midnight. Why don’t I tell him to just visit in the morning—”“Don’t you dare!” I said, horrified at the thought.
Jester swiped his hand to the left. The wall before him tore itself up and crumbled to dust before being sucked into a void known as Jorus, exposing the figures inside.Only two people remained standing. One was a familiar figure, tall and broad, with a white mask covering his face. The other was leaner, smaller than the masked man, with a handsome face and cold, dead eyes. This man held in his arms a woman with golden hair in a fancy red dress. The features of her beautiful face were obscured by the blood seeping from her head, and around her slender neck was a fiery tattoo, like a necklace of thorns painted on her skin.A curse mark, in its most potent form.Alisa. His Alisa.Everything in Jester fell still, and whatever rationality he had left was burned away by fear and fury.*****An explosion of black—an oppressive, all-consuming darkness surrounded them in the blink of an eye. This darkness was unnatural. It wasn’t a darkness born from a lack of light, rather, it felt to him li
Jester had several misgivings about attending the Finale as Alisa’s date. He had to dress fancy. He had to listen to a rabid crowd scream his name and fight the urge to run away. He had to let the paparazzi take pictures without breaking their limbs. He even had to stop scowling.But the Finale was important to Alisa. She had asked him to come, and he knew if he did, it would mean the world to her, so how could he refuse her?At first, it wasn’t so bad. The suit was surprisingly comfortable, and though it was fancier than what he was used to wearing (it had a cape, for crying out loud) at least it was in black and grey, and not—gods forbid—egg-yolk yellow or neon green (like what he saw some of the other guests were wearing). Their red-carpet entrance was also quickly over with, and like what Aisha had said, all that was left to endure was the small-talk.It only took a few minutes after Alisa left, though, for Jester to realize he could only bear with this situation in her presence.
TEN MINUTES BEFORE EVERYTHING WENT TO HELL, VIP SECTIONAn intense tremor shook the Stadium, accompanied by alarmed yelling and swearing and the sound of shattering glasses as surprised guests dropped to the floor or crawled under the tables. Before the shaking even stopped, an alarm ripped through the air. Colin felt a foreboding sense of deja vu when he recognized what it meant.CODE BLACK: ANOMALY BREACH DETECTEDLOCKDOWN PROTOCOL IN EFFECT. THIS EVENT IS HEREBY CANCELLED. ALL GUESTS AND RESIDENTS ARE ADVISED TO REMAIN WITHIN THE BORDER. PLEASE REMAIN CALM AND FOLLOW EVACUATION PROTOCOL.The last time M’lonia had a Breach was nearly fifty years ago. Not only were there fewer active Faults in Ellenis as a whole (when you compare it to Earth or Oren), but the Elven capital of M’lonia was literally in the middle of nowhere, and under miles of sand and bedrock to boot. Some studies have claimed that the possibility of a new Breach forming in an area without a history of a Fault decreas
I suddenly stopped feeling bad for my PA when I realized why she was so on edge.They were hiding things from me again. They knew—Bea, Dad, Jester, they all knew—how much I hated that.“Give me my earpiece,” I said to Freya, pointing at the tiny purse on the couch beside her.“You have to focus on the Finale.” Bea said, snatching it away before Freya could even reach for it. “Forget what I said about New York. Right now, focus on the show, and when everything’s done, you can go and cuddle up to Jester as much as you like and have that talk.”“And if I say, ‘No, I don’t want to go to New York?’”Bea wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Come on. Be reasonable. It’s just a health break…”I narrowed my eyes at her, focusing on Bea’s emotions.How suspicious. There was concern for my health, certainly. But strangely, Bea seems to be more focused on my safety rather than the possibility of me relapsing into anorexia. Then, there’s the thing about Sir Merrion following me around on the orders of the King
It was Jester who first stepped out of the car.Broad-shouldered, long and lean, he wore the dark grey suit Alisa had picked out for him, and it fit him like a dream. Unbeknownst to the stylists, the white shirt he was wearing underneath was actually his AG suit, which he had adjusted to copy its appearance. He told Alisa it just felt wrong for him to wear normal clothes when out in public, and convinced her to let him use the suit. Draped over his shoulders was the luxurious cape trimmed with black fur and embroidered in gold that Holly had waved under his nose, and in the flashing lights, the gold thread shimmered.From LeBlanc’s position on the balcony, and with the help of his favorite camera, he could see very clearly why Alisa Vega had fallen for the AG rookie. Had he been into men, LeBlanc himself would have fallen head-over-heels and off of a cliff for him. The build, the figure—there was no angle from which you could take a photograph that wouldn’t flatter him. And that face-
LeBlanc thought that West Park Stadium had never looked more like a treasure chest than it did tonight. It was bright, and shiny, and loud—and the people inside it were equally so.For most of the normal people in the three worlds, the Fashion Week Finale was a show you watch on your holo-screens. But now, LeBlanc was a part of it. He was there in the flesh.He had been fortunate enough to be invited to the Finale as a guest by his editor, and though he was not strictly required to work during the event, the photographer in him could not resist slinging his favorite camera over his shoulder. Fashion Week was like an all-you-can-eat buffet for him—there was no way he was passing up an opportunity to photograph the elite of the elite of the fashion world, in all their splendor. Of course, he would not be allowed to publicize any of his photographs unless he gains consent from his subjects. But he didn’t mind. He didn’t pursue photography for the money or the potential connections he cou
It didn’t take very long for someone to knock on the door and remind them that Alisa had things to do, and places to be.In reality, it had only been about three hours since they left the others in the drawing room. Emotionally though, to Jester it felt like an entire day had gone by. In a mere three hours, Alisa had gone from ‘angry-girlfriend’ to ‘sweet seductress’ to ‘vulnerable, guilt-ridden, accidental murderess’ and finally, now she was ‘the-show-must-go-on, high-fashion supermodel with a probable eating disorder’, and he sat in bed watching her reapplying her makeup and slipping on those icepick heels.As if she hadn’t been crying her eyes out and dripping snot over his shirt a few minutes ago.Alisa is more than just a pretty face, strutting around in glamorous outfits and smiling for the cameras. She was more than just the Vega name and the influence that goes with it. She’s also more than just a girl with a powerful Gift.Alisa—his Alisa—is lovely, complicated, and unique. S
Things went back to normal almost immediately after that. That mugging incident never happened again, and it was easy to forget about something horrible if it’s not happening directly to you. Marcus was his usual possessive self, and I should have had no expectations otherwise. He changed my memories, so of course I don’t have a proper recollection of what happened. There shouldn’t be any reason for me to feel uneasy with him.But I did. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew what was really going on. I think Marcus could tell, too. He became even more obsessed with keeping me by his side. There was even a rumor at school going around that he and I were dating secretly, because he’s always holding my hand.I’m sure that Aisha told you Marcus needed physical contact to reinforce his Gift, right? I think at that time Marcus was still testing the limits of his Gift. He was afraid of being apart from me because he wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t remember things I shouldn’t.
We found ourselves in bed again…though not in the same way as we were a few hours ago.For one thing, we were dressed. Jester now had on a pair of pants and a new shirt, though it was mostly unbuttoned—I hadn’t realized that when he pulled off the first one, it had ripped a little from our eagerness. He said normal clothes were just built too fragile, and he was used to it.“Wow,” I said drily, “How many girls got you ripping your shirt off for them to say you’re used to that?”Jester kissed my forehead. “Just one.”“Really.”“I have the physical strength equal to a hundred humans, Ali. That’s what I meant.”“I know. I was just teasing,” I said.“Huh. Stop trying to distract me.”Resigning myself to the inevitable, I cuddled up to him as I thought about how to begin.Half my hesitation comes from the fact that I still couldn’t wrap my head around what just happened a few hours ago. I’ve always wanted to know how it would feel to kiss someone and touch someone and be so intimate—withou