Page 103 of Beautiful Chaos
He pushes the hair off my forehead. “You must be so tired.”
I take a deep, shuddering breath. I am tired. Exhausted from pushing against what every cell in my body wants to do, all the time. My only reprieve is killing.
And he’s offering it to me on a platter.
For a moment, I think about what it would be like to let that side of me gallop, like a horse on the beach. I could reign terror everywhere I go.
Fuck, what a relief to simply…be.
I don’t think about it for very long, but I do think about it. And I let this Blake—this other version of me—see me considering it.
He smiles. Like he’s won something.
“By the way, you’re gonna give that long-haired guy a tension pneumothorax if you let his chest close completely.” He shrugs. “Itisa painful way to die. Which, I’m sure you enjoy as much as I do.”
Dammit. Iknewthere was something Anders told me about a sucking chest wound.
“Oakley, grab the straw from the silver case and insert it into the wound before it closes,” I call over my shoulder.
Blake’s smile, so smug and certain, falls.
I let the black take me.
Unlike the Wildlings, where I pull my punches, I go after Blake with everything I’ve got. I’m a blur, breaking his ribs, kicking out his ankles, punching the center of balance behind his ear.
It hardly makes a difference. He heals almost instantaneously. Like Edison.
“You ever wonder why you were the only one who survived?” he asks, wiping blood from his mouth as his ankle stitches itself back together.
All the time, I think to myself. His eyes are still a disturbing white. And something that never made sense finally does.
“It’s because he made me look like a BEC,” I say, gesturing to my eyes. “Like the urban legend.”
Blake shakes his head. “That was no urban legend. Hedidn’t just make youlooklikea BEC, Silas. He used BEC DNA to make you. You’re part BEC.That’swhy you survived when the others didn’t.”
“How could you possibly know that?” I ask, circling him. Trying to figure out his weakness.
None, as far as I can tell.
“Our progenitor had three different labs, each with a different set of protocols, all using Silas Blake’s DNA as the base. One folded immediately after he died. Only mine continued to operate after yours was raided.” He gestures between us. “Your scientist figured out the BEC mix years before the useless scientists at my location figured out something similar.”
I wondered, briefly, the source of Blake’s mods. Is he photosensitive like me or does he not have any weaknesses at all? And what about those scientists? Are we going to find a lab with dead bodies or are they waiting for him to come back with me?
Not that it matters. Whatever his history or motivations, he’ll be leaving this rooftop in a body bag.
He sees the shift, the decision made, and comes after me with everything he’s got. It’s terrifying, the hatred in his eyes. Like I’ve disappointed him by not going along with his plan to be murder buddies.
Fuck that. I already have murder buddies.
His fists are lightning fast, and within seconds, my nose is broken, and I’m bleeding from a couple of different places. Weirdly enough, this is good news.
Yes, Blake is faster than me and stronger, but he’s untrained. He doesn’t have a dad who survived the worst things imaginable, or uncles who kill with glee, or cousins with half a dozen different fighting styles.
He may have me beat when it comes to genetics, but he’ll never know the love of a big, insane family.
Seriously, fuck this guy. I dodge his punches and make him pay by bringing my foot down on his knee.
He screams in pain and stumbles back toward the pool. He’s going into the water, grabbing my shirt on the way down. Unable to stop the momentum, I tumble in after him.
