Earthbound

through the memories from the change you’ve already invoked.”

“I had hoped to find a way to bring Logan back with me and pull his memories while you were together.” Sammi’s voice is soft and even, but I’ve lived with her long enough to hear the current of frustration. “But your running away kind of put a wrench in that.”

“If you’re waiting for me to apologize, it’s going to be a long night,” I say, leaning closer to Benson with my arms folded over the files, holding them against me.

I’m not giving them back.

“I’m not waiting for anything. We know where Logan is; we’ll take you to him tonight.” She looks up and meets my eyes. “By force, if necessary.”

“What do you mean by force?” I snap. “I think you’re being a little melodramatic.”

Sammi looks at Mark and they have a silent conversation with their eyes. I rest one hand on my hip to wait for them to finish deciding if they are going to continue lying to me. But Mark gives a tiny nod and Sammi turns back to me with genuinely haunted eyes.

“Mark has the virus.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“The virus? The one from the news?” I ask, and reach for Benson’s hand. I grip his fingers so tightly I know I must be hurting him, but he doesn’t complain.

“I estimate he’s got twelve to eighteen hours,” Sammi chokes out.

I look over at Mark, understanding his limp skin, deep under-eye circles—even the signs of fatigue I was seeing before I ran away; he’s dying.

And then, as I’m about to look away, he flickers. I draw in a loud breath.

I get it now. I see it when others don’t because I’m an Earthbound. The reporter on TV—probably dead or dying. The woman who gave me the Band-Aid, almost certainly gone. What about the man by the candy shop? If flickering is the virus, what is disappearing entirely? I shake the thought away; there’s no time. “What does that have to do with me?” I ask shakily.

“Something changed when you survived that plane wreck, Tave. At that point, they wanted to kill you— wanted it desperately. Now? They want to take you.”

“Could have fooled me,” I grumble, thinking of Sunglasses Guy shooting at me, the car that almost hit me, the charred BMW at the hotel.

“Trust me,” Sammi says, “if the Reduciata really wanted you dead, that car in Bath wouldn’t have missed. They’re not amateurs: it wasn’t a failed assassination attempt, it was a message—a warning. I only wish I know who it was for. They want you to remember, and then they’ll try to take you. And our sources say it’s because you know something about the virus.”

“But I don’t!” I protest.

“Tavia, Mark’s only chance of survival is getting you back with Quinn—Logan—connecting you two, and getting you to resurge. Hopefully in that process you’ll remember what the Reduciata need you for.”

“But I can’t … I don’t—”

“Tavia, I’m offering you a chance to be with Logan. At eighteen,” she adds, and I hear a frantic edge in her voice. “To have a whole lifetime together. It’s what you’ve always wanted; why are you fighting me?” she asks, her patience starting to loosen at the seams—completely unaware that not fifteen minutes ago I pledged my life to Benson instead.

I’m keeping that promise.

Somehow.

Sammi takes a deep breath and runs her fingers through her short hair, getting a better grip on her control. “I have a private jet waiting for us; you can sleep on the way and we’ll get some better food into you.”

“No.” My voice seems to boom around the clearing, and I swear I hear people shuffle around in the trees behind me.

Sammi freezes. “What do you mean, no? You have to do this. And we’re running out of time! Not just for Mark, but for everyone. Sixty-four people died of the virus today, and that number is only going to go up.” She flings her hand out, pointing at nothing, at the world, at everyone else. “I don’t know exactly what the Reduciata want with you, but it must have something to do with the virus; otherwise they would just kill you. You don’t understand—they have plans, something is brewing, and in the last few years their methods have changed. They’re getting ready to—”

“I don’t care!” I scream, finally stopping the words falling from her mouth. “Whatever they’re planning is just a moment amid thousands of years of history of blood and schemes and I want out!” I turn to Mark. “I am truly sorry, Mark, but I. Can’t. Help. You. I know nothing about this virus.” I turn back to Sammi and Elizabeth. “I don’t want anything to do with the Curatoria or the Reduciata and if you’re as interested in aiding me as you say, then you’ll respect that.” My legs are quaking, but I force myself to stay calm—to appear in control.

“Think about it, Tavia,” Sammi says, carefully avoiding looking at Benson as she changes her tactic. “This is your chance to be a true goddess and save the human race. After your curse, don’t you think this is the ultimate redemption? And on top of that, it’s your opportunity to have a whole lifetime with your partner. You’re going to give it up to spend a couple of years with a guy you just met?”

“No offense,” Mark says in a wry mutter.

“Mincing words isn’t going to help anyone,” Sammi retorts without looking away from me. “Do you think you can fight the thousands of years of longing and love that you’re going to remember more of every day? And why would you want to when you can be with him and do something to stop the Reduciata?”

“You can’t make me fall in love with someone just because it’s ‘supposed to’ happen,” I argue, and my stomach feels hollow as I try to push away the guilt. But I can’t be the heroine they think I am! I don’t know anything about this virus!

“No,” Sammi says softly. “I can’t.” Then she points at my head. “But they can. The hundreds of women inside you, the hundreds of women who love him. And they’ll grow stronger and louder until you resent the day you didn’t run into Logan’s arms when you had the chance. That’s simply the reality of it. Do you think you’re the first Earthbound who had a life before their memories awakened? The people I’ve seen, the journals I’ve read—you can’t fight this, Tave. And by the time you realize that, you’ll be dead, the majority of the human race will be gone, and it will be too late. Think very carefully about that.”

I stare at her, defiant, and she stares right back, her eyes razors of anger and fear.

She’s not lying—at least, she’s saying what she believes to be the truth.

But truth, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.

“Tavia.” Benson’s voice is small and weak, but it vibrates to the center of my chest. “Maybe she’s right.”

“No, Benson, she’s not!” I turn to him and he catches my face in his hands, cradling my cheeks, his face inches from mine.

“I will stay as long as you want me to,” he says in a whisper meant only for me. “But this virus, it’s going to devastate the world. And if you’re the key to stopping it—you need to take that chance. If she’s right, someday you’ll regret making this choice. I know what that feels like and … I don’t know if I could handle it.”

“I don’t think she is right,” I argue. “I know nothing! And I don’t think Rebecca knows anything either.”

“Is it worth the risk?”

“Yes,” I insist, and I don’t bother whispering—don’t care if they hear. “Benson, every person I have ever loved in my life has been ripped away from me either by death or deception,” I say, flinging my hand out at the people I had come to love as Reese and Jay. “The chance to choose my own heart’s desire and be with the person I want is worth it.” This is my truth; he is my truth.