Fractured Suns (Broken Skies Book 2) by Theresa Kay

Author:Theresa Kay
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Dystopian, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Aliens, Science Fiction & Dystopian, Romance, Science Fiction, Teen & Young Adult, Paranormal & Fantasy
Published: 2015-09-18T07:00:00+00:00

The next three days pass in much the same way. I spend my evenings at Emily’s with her, Stu, and Ethan, then tag along with Emily during the day and put my awful social skills to use. It’s not as if Bridgelake is huge or as if some of the faces here aren’t familiar to me, it’s just that I didn’t talk to them before, so why is it necessary for me to talk to them now?

The one person I actually want to talk to—Gavin—seems to be avoiding me. He’s never in his office when I stop by, and after that first one, there are no more chance encounters. Emily assures me that Flint is safe and unharmed. Still, all I can picture is Lir beaten and left tied up in a squalid basement and my worry morphs into irritation. And I can’t do anything about it until I get a chance to talk Gavin. Jerk.

Something else is bothering me, too. I’m feeling a trickle of unease and agitation that leaves me constantly on edge. Every morning I wake with stiff muscles and a raging headache. And every morning, Stu shakes his head at me over his mug. My nightmares haven’t returned, at least not that I can remember, but something is happening while I’m asleep, and nobody knows what, including me. After the second night, Stu stops asking Ethan to try to draw from me. It was obvious after his first attempt that his ability couldn’t help with whatever was going on, and it upset the kid that I “wasn’t there,” as he put it.

It isn’t until my fifth night spent back in Bridgelake that the images finally come. Or maybe that’s just when my brain finally processes them. Knives and blood. Stumbling, lost and blind. Then memories of chains, white walls, and bright white pain. The light is bad and it hurts my eyes, so I turn away and return to the refuge of the red-washed darkness. But that’s not any better. It pokes and prods and shoves until my hands are clenched and my head feels like it must explode to relieve the pressure. Strange words I do not know pull and push and tear and—

I wake up screaming. The sound that rips from my throat is so animalistic it’s like claws scraping their way out of my chest. All that time I spent anxious for Flint, and it’s my brother who I should have spent my worries on. I know where I’ve been at night now: I’ve been unconsciously lending what little strength I had to Jace. I knew he was in trouble. I knew what he was fighting. But he’s so much worse than when I was in his head before. How can that be? It hasn’t been that long. How could he deteriorate so quickly? He’s losing the fight against the rage and pain. He’s losing himself.

And I’m not there to stop it.

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