The Fire and the Sky (Book 3 of the... - Chapter 50: Chapter 50

"It'll be much easier for everyone if you come out on your own, ladies." The voice of Wyndam Aviar drifted in through the shattered living room window. He sounded confident and pleased with himself. "I don't recommend making us come in to get you."
From where they lay out of view on the floor, May and Em looked at each other.
"Us?" May whispered in terror.
"Shit," Em swore. "Shit, shit, shit."
The sound of tires crunching over gravel could be heard from outside. Doors—too many to be from one vehicle alone—opened and closed. There were footsteps. Somewhere in the distance, a thrumming from the sky seemed to be drawing near.
"You can't hide in there forever."
Instinctively, May reached for the Star cannon. Instead, her hand met her bare forearm and her heart sank. She hadn't thought to put it on that morning—she hadn't even planned on getting out of bed. In her head, May cursed herself out; Welkin had built her a weapon for this very reason. For a second she wondered if she would be able to sneak upstairs undetected to get it.
Something outside let off a thunderous bang. The couple flinched in fearful surprise.
"Let's run," May said, reaching across the broken glass to grip Em's hand. "If we can get upstairs I can grab my cannon and we can leave out a window—"
Suddenly, the sound of crying—the loud, terrified howls of a child—cut through the air.
May and Em froze.
"If you won't come out for me, perhaps our young friend can persuade you instead?"
Eyes locked, bodies trembling, neither May nor Em needed to confirm with the other what they had to do next. They shuffled first to their knees then got to their feet, raising their hands above their heads as they did so. The scene framed by the window made May's blood run cold. Black cars and vans with tinted windows were parked at random angles throughout the front yard. Loyal agents, each excessively armed, stood at the ready. The sound of footfalls through the back screen door let May know they were already surrounded. Halfway down the drive, a sleek helicopter was making its descent.
And in the middle of it all, looking like he had just stepped out of a high-powered business meeting, was Wyndam. To see him now, May wondered how she didn't notice the family resemblance between him and his son the first time she saw him on that monitor at the Rookery. Jeremy was the spitting image of his father: they shared the same bronzed skin and svelte frame. Jeremy had even inherited Wyndam's dark, knowing eyes—though where Jeremy's gaze was generally defiant and wary, his father's was filled only with cruelty. The only feature they didn't share was by way of their hair; where Jeremy's was untamed in a scorching shade of red, his father's was brown and neatly styled.
Standing before Wyndam was a little boy May recognized instantly from Rue's locket. He had his mother's wavy hair and his father's surreal green eyes, which swam with tears that had already drenched his soft cheeks, still baby plump.
"Gaten," Em breathed.
The little boy let out another wail that made May feel sick to her stomach. Once, when Omi was still a toddler, he had gotten himself locked in the tiny linen closet in his grandparents' house. He had been so frantic and afraid that, even after May found and freed him, it took a long time to calm him down again. Children, May knew, didn't downplay their fear. Gaten wasn't just scared—he was hysterical with terror.
"Let him go!" May shouted, eyeing the vise-like grip Wyndam had on the back of the child's shirt. Gaten's hands were bound with plastic straps, as if he was somehow dangerous or even capable of defending himself. May felt dizzy with rage.
Wyndam shifted a self-satisfied gaze from her to Em and back again. "What an incredibly fortunate turn of events. I knew I'd find you here"—he gestured in May's direction—"but the Starborn as well? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that those abominations were lying to us, but here we are."
May and Em shared troubled glances. The Loyals had come looking for May, but why? And how had they known she would be there at all? Her mouth went dry contemplating the terrible possibilities.
Had WIND sold her out once again?
"Let's make this easy, shall we?" Wyndam drawled on. "The boy for the Starborn—a simple exchange."
May gasped. Her eyes snapped to Em, who was so tense she looked to be carved of alabaster. With great effort, Em swallowed and turned to look back at her. They gaped at one another, torn and fearful.
In the silence that hung between them, Gaten let out another terrified cry.
"We can't let them keep him," Em whispered. Her voice quivered. Though her words suggested a brave and noble act, her expression gave away just how afraid she really was.
May turned a searing glare back to Wyndam. "And if we refuse?"
Wyndam gave an aloof shrug. He smiled, snake-like, down at the child caught in his grip. "Then he dies." He raised his eyes back to May and the effect was chilling. "This isn't a negotiation, Miss Alana. Don't forget who holds the cards here."
"Babe," Em croaked. "You know they will."
Yes, May did know. The very fact that Em was here and Audrey wasn't proved that Wyndam wasn't bluffing.
May opened her mouth, but she couldn't find the words. What could she possibly say? How could she argue for Em to stay when she knew that would mean sacrificing an innocent child? How could either of them live with themselves if they walked away now?
"What guarantee do we have that you won't just come after him once you have me?" Em asked.
"He's not the one we want," Wyndam said. "He never was."
Em shook her head. "You're going to have to do better than that."
Wyndam's eyes narrowed dangerously. "We can meet in the middle if it will calm your nerves." His tone was mocking. "We'll hand the boy to Miss Alana and she can pass you off to us."
A scream of fury bubbled its way up May's throat, but she fought to keep it down. None of this was fair, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. She looked at Em and found her already gazing sadly back. They both knew what had to happen; they had no other choice.
As Em held May's gaze, the air between them crackled. It was quick—just a brief burst of energy that one would need to be close to even realize it happened—but May felt it. Em gave an imperceptible nod and May at once understood: Em didn't intend to go down without a fight. May considered her options—without her cannon, May would have to keep Gaten out of harm's way while Em fought the Loyals off with her otherworldly power.
Could they pull it off?
May was willing to try. She lifted her chin to signal she was ready.
"Alright," Em said, calling through the window. "We're coming outside now."
They moved carefully. May held her breath as they stepped through the front door, feeling like it would take very little to set the Loyals off. When they reached the top of the steps, May and Em paused, waiting for direction. Across the yard, Wyndam signalled for one of the other agents to take hold of Gaten.
"Let's meet in the middle, shall we?" he said. "Keep your hands up and make no quick movements. May will take Gaten, we'll take the Starborn, and we can all carry on with our days."
May bristled. She wanted to throw herself at him, pummel his smug face with her fists and make him regret talking about Em like she was some kind of mindless specimen. But she took a deep breath, and though her body trembled, she kept her expression blank.
"May?" Em mumbled, barely moving her lips. May looked to her and her heart stumbled. "I love you."
"I love you too, Emmy."
They made their way down the stairs, keeping in step with one another. To May, each moment felt like she was walking through water — her body struggling against an invisible, resistant force. She took comfort in the sensation of having Em at her side—in the feeling of her closeness and the hint of cracking energy that danced in the air around her as they moved—but she stayed focused on Gaten. The moment she had the boy in her hands, she was going to have to act quickly. With each step, May gauged when to make her move: when should she grab him? Which way should she run?
The Loyal agent who had been charged with making the exchange eyed them both warily, his eyes darting back and forth between Em and May. Then he stopped with still a handful of paces separating them. May gritted her teeth.
"Step forward, Starborn," Wyndam demanded. His eyes flicked to the agent. "Langley, give the boy to Miss Alana."
The man called Langley waited until Em took a step toward him and then shoved Gaten forward, hard. The child shrieked, stumbling and falling. Instinctively, May lurched forward to catch him before he hit the ground, and in that moment, she heard something small and fast cut through the air.
Em gasped.
May, dragging a now screaming Gaten up in her arms, jumped up straight just in time to see Em's eyes roll back. Unconscious, Em slumped forward into Langley's waiting arms.
"Em!" she cried. Panic surged through every single nerve in her body. Already, agents had flooded toward her, weapons drawn. She wrapped her arms tightly around Gaten and staggered back. Through the crowd, she saw Wyndam watching, a lazy smile on his punchable face. And at his side, looking equally as self-righteous, was Melanie. Her eyes flashed when they met May's. In one hand she held a small firearm. Between the fingers of the other she pinched what looked like a small dart, which she shook mockingly, its feathered tail waving like a small hand.
A tranquilizer.
Rage exploded in May's chest. She let out a furious, wordless scream. Already, a team of Loyal agents had bound Em's limbs and were carting her unconscious, lolling body toward the still-waiting helicopter. A shot rang out. A patch of ground just in front of May exploded, spraying her with gravel. She twisted away from it, trying to shield Gaten from the debris.
"Walk away, Miss Alana," Wyndam shouted over the pulsing beat of the helicopter's propeller. "Next time we won't miss."
May's heart pounded. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. She hadn't planned on actually letting the Loyals leave with Em, and now she was paralyzed with indecision.
But what else could she do? Gaten howled in her ear. Wyndam and Melanie were retreating to the helicopter and the remaining agents were closing in, herding her back toward the house like a pack of wolves closing in on a lamb.
She couldn't deny the truth: she and Em had gambled and lost.
And so, though it broke her heart, she tore her eyes from the helicopter that was now lifting off with the love of her life. She hitched Gaten up in her arms, turned away, and ran back into the house.
In the living room, May stood and watched through the broken window as the Loyals piled back into their vehicles and peeled out of the yard. Their tires tore up the grass, spitting earth and gravel behind them as they sped away in a procession of chaos. In the sky, the helicopter was nothing more than a speck, like a bird in the distance.
May thought she would drown in the silence that followed.
In her arms, Gaten was still crying, though his sobs came slower now and sounded less panicked. Instinctively, May began to bounce him in her arms, shushing softly the same way she had with Omi so many times before. While she soothed him, her eyes scanned the wreckage.
Amid the broken glass that littered the carpet, something caught the light and glinted brightly. May got to her knees, easing Gaten onto her lap so she could reach for the source.
Her fingers closed around something small and round. Her heart tore open.
It was the ring.
In the utter confusion of the Loyals' ambush, she missed her chance to slide it onto Em's finger.
Quaking, May put it back on her own finger. Ring or not, Em was her fiancée.
And one way or another, May was going to get her back.