A Want So Wicked (A Need So Beautiful #2)(57)
Author: Suzanne Young

“This is it, Abe,” I state, growing calmer. “This is what I’m here for.” My shoes are soundless on the pavement as Onika opens her arms, welcoming me.

“No!” Abe shouts. I faintly hear the sound of running as I continue toward Onika, licking my lips and thinking how they taste of cinnamon. How they taste of love.

Onika bares her teeth, looking ready to pounce. I brace myself for her attack, but just then something hard knocks into me, pushing me aside. There is no silence before the screaming starts.

Abe is in front of Onika, her fist buried in his chest. He falls away from her, writhing in pain on the ground as the shadows slowly start to seep from the gaping hole in his chest. His skin is tearing off, ripping to shreds. I cover my mouth in horror, and Onika steps back. Not sorry, just stunned.

But Abe is slowly dying, and it looks painful—nothing like the quick death that Rodney got on the roof.

Abe stretches out his hand to me, and I lower myself to the ground, gripping it. He’s moaning as his skin slowly burns, dissolving to ash. The horror is too much. No one should suffer like this. I begin to weep.

“Elise,” Abe chokes out. His fingers dig into my forearm as agony consumes him, slowly breaking him apart.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, Abe.” When his dark eyes meet my gaze, he stills—even as his body continues to wither.

“You’re so bright,” he murmurs.

I look down at my arm and see the gold glowing bright under my skin, not tearing through but illuminating me in light. Abe is entranced by the beauty of it. He takes my golden palm, pressing it to his cheek before turning his face to kiss my skin. It’s the closest he’ll ever be to the light again. And it’s all I can give him now.

Abe’s body scatters then, falling as ash over my hand and onto my clothes. I choke back a cry, trying to gather the ash, trying to do something—but the wind catches it, washing him away.

CHAPTER 29

I sit motionless, staring down. Lucy moves quickly, grabbing my father from the ground and backing him out of Onika’s reach. I think then that Lucy hasn’t lost her humanity. At least not yet.

Next to me Onika makes a soft sound, and when I look up, she’s staring at me. “He sacrificed himself for you,” she says as if she can’t believe it. “Why would he do something so stupid?”

I climb to my feet then, no longer afraid. I know what I’m here for—despite the love I have for my family, for Harlin, there are things bigger than me.

My body begins to heat, the glow becoming more intense. I feel so incredibly powerful, as if I could burst at any second and cover this place in light. Onika’s eyes widen as she watches, the gold illuminating her face. She’s in awe.

“Elise!”

I turn to see Harlin running up, stopping short when he sees me. A mix of admiration and devastation crosses his face. He knows what this means. He knows I have to do what’s right.

“I wish it could be different,” I say to him.

There’s a sudden gasp, and I turn to Onika, but she’s staring past me. I follow her line of vision. Monroe approaches in the distance, slow as he limps slightly with exhaustion. I let the Need take me into Monroe’s mind. I see the plan that he and Marceline came up with, the plan at my expense. I know what I have to do, and how this will end.

Onika’s skin begins to crack and tear as her emotions roll over her. Monroe was the last person to see her other than the Forgotten. She gave up everything for him, and he turned his back on her.

“The good doctor isn’t looking so hot,” Onika says coldly to me. “Perhaps he’s lonely. Should I whisper him a love poem?”

“I’m sick,” Monroe answers instead, his voice gentle, as if she’d been actually concerned. “I’m dying, Onika. I’m leaving soon.”

Before she can even process his words, Onika stumbles back. She’s stunned by the fact that he can see her. “How—” Tears fill her blue eyes.

“I’m letting him,” I say. “I can control the visions too, remember.”

“No,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t want him to—”

“Onika,” Monroe breathes in the most tender voice I’ve ever heard him use. When she shifts her devastated gaze back to his, he smiles. “It’s been too long, darling.”

As I watch, the layers of bitterness wrapped around Onika fall away, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath, the girl who tried at twenty to save her life, forgoing the rest of the world.

Monroe begins to walk purposefully toward her, his gait weak from illness, but determined. As he approaches, Onika’s face begins to slowly repair itself. She doesn’t want him to see her as she is. Even now . . . all she cares about is Monroe. I slowly back away until I feel Harlin touch the small of my back.

I turn to let him wrap me in a hug, and he holds me tightly against him. My Harlin. I start to cry, the tears evaporating off my cheeks the minute they touch. The energy inside me is becoming almost too much to hold together.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me again,” Harlin murmurs in my ear. “You promised, Elise.”

“I’m sorry.” I lay my head on Harlin’s shoulder. His hand brushes my hair, a silent acceptance, as I watch Onika and Monroe. Marceline had told Monroe that if he could find the humanity in Onika, get her out of the Shadows for even a moment, then maybe I would be able to extinguish her. To do that, I’ll need to burst into light. Of course, I still have a choice. But I know which one to make.

Monroe pauses in front of Onika, letting her look over his failing body. Then as he steps forward to put his hand on her cheek, Lucy comes into my line of vision.

“You’re so bright,” she says to me. “It’s really beautiful.”

“I wish I knew what to say right now,” I tell her, untangling myself from Harlin as he moves back to give us privacy. Lucy won’t harm me now. “I wish we could have been sisters forever,” I say, and my voice breaks.

Lucy’s lower lip trembles and she glances away. “Maybe this once I can love you enough to let go,” she says.

“I don’t want you to,” I answer. “I don’t want you to ever let go.”

A thoughtful expression passes over Lucy’s features, her blue eyes welling up. “Elise,” she says. “Do you remember when we were little girls and I used to sit you at Mom’s vanity, dressing you in pearls and makeup? I dragged you around everywhere with me. My own little baby doll.” She stops. “That feels real to me.”