Flock

Chapter 9

"So you want to use me?" My voice came out flat and emotionless. I stared at the woman before me and couldn't help the spark of hope that burned within me. I thought Clark had cared about me, and I was desperately holding on to that truth. Bogan had failed me in the past, but Clark couldn't do that to me. She wouldn't—

"We want to show people what you can do." Her words were carefully chosen. I remember her measured words when she was talking to someone who wasn't associated with her rebellion. It was a slow, methodical voice built to soothe frazzled nerves. It was as if I was an animal that needed to be tamed. My mouth tasted sour.

"If they find out what I can do, they'll kill me, Clark." I waited for her to respond but she just continued to stare at me. "Humans and Kryijia will want me dead—they'll both see me as an abomination."

Clark sat down at the head of the table. She took another dissatisfied sip of her tea and then folded her hands on the table. "It will inspire the rebels."

My little spark of hope was dying a slow death inside me. "For what? You just said that Illia's people are gone, you won't go back to Javink—the Kriyjia are more powerful than ever. They were just in Javink yesterday making sure we were working hard in the mines and minding our place beneath them."

"Ollie," she said, in that soft voice.

"Don't Ollie me," I snapped. I stalked away from the table the letter for Illia clutched tightly in my fist. "You left me behind, don't presume to think you know me anymore. I'm not the child you abandoned."

"Ollie," she pleaded. The soft lilt to her voice was gone and her features looked genuinely startled by my outburst. I didn't let that calm me, though. Instead, I let my anger pulse through me—my cheeks flushed with heat.

"We're done here for the day." I turned on my heel and left. I retraced my steps back the way we had come, wandering through the city on my own. Clark hadn't chased after me, and I didn't expect her to. If she was as secure in this city as she believed she was, she wouldn't need to follow me. She probably had eyes on me the second I slammed the door to her flat behind me.

Clark was wrong. My existence wasn't going to inspire anyone. The male Kryijia's horror-stricken face flashed in my mind again and I squeezed my eyes shut against the memory. I wasn't going to inspire them because I was an abomination. If anything, my existence could potentially unite the humans and Kryjia against me for the five minutes it would take to murder me.

What if I wasn't the only one? A sharp twinge on my pointer finger jarred me out of my dark thoughts. I had chewed my nail to the skin. A bead of blood welled up. I couldn't stop staring at it —it was red like it should be, only it wasn't the right red.

I stared at the little bead, the dark black red dot. I thought back, searching for another moment when I had bled; a moment where the bright crimson color of human life spilled from my skin. But I couldn't remember ever actually looking at my blood, looking at my mortality.

"Are you going to cry over a little cut?" I recognized Kiliyan's voice and immediately popped my finger into my mouth removing all traces of my blood.

"Just stung," I sneered. "What do you want? Did Clark send you out here to babysit the freak?"

He brushed past me and rolled his eyes. "Not everything is about you, Olivia."

I bristled at the use of my formal name. Bogan only used that when I was in trouble, or when he was presenting me to a crowd. Olivia the Orphan. Nice use of alliteration, it branded me for his campaigns. Catchy, was what he called it. Memorable.

Just thinking about that little act was enough to make my stomach turn. Especially now. What would happen to Bogan when the Kryjia and humans found out I wasn't completely human? Would he be blamed?

My stomach clenched further and I couldn't maintain the scowl on my face. Kiliyan must have noticed the change in me because for a moment he even looked concerned. Bogan and I had had our falling out, but he still raised me. Still made sure that I was getting by and not causing any trouble for myself or for him. Still found me in a crowd and noticed my existence.

"I need to leave," I said out loud. "I'm dangerous, you saw what I did to that Kryjia male—"

Kiliyan's hands slapped against my mouth so hard I saw stars and a metallic taste filled my mouth. I screeched beneath his hand but he didn't remove it. Instead, his other hand came up behind my head to hold me immobile. I screeched again and he gave me a little shake.

"Quiet," he hissed. "I didn't tell them what actually happened."

My eyes widened, I could feel them growing. He sighed at my confusion. He released my head and put a finger to his lips before he slowly lifted his hand from my mouth.

"Come on," he said, taking my hand. I didn't argue with him, or resist at all. If he didn't tell Clark why he had really intervened on my behalf than was the only special ability about me? My ability to touch the Kriyfem?

Kiliyan led me along a few back alleys and through a busy residential area. Women and men alike were outside their dilapidated buildings hanging wash, chopping wood, tending small gardens, and playing with their children. People looked up as we passed and smiled at Kilian but he paid them no mind.

He dragged me through a narrow alley that led into a dark dead end. Tucked away in the corner was a door. He dropped my hand for a moment while he searched his pockets for a key before inserting a small gold one into the lock and pushing the door open.