Page 55 of Blue Arrow Island (Blue Arrow Island #1)

It’s hard to sleep here. I’m lying awake right now while everyone else is resting, thinking about Stanley Milgram’s words:

“Ordinary people, simply doing their jobs, and without any particular hostility on their part, can become agents in terrible destruction.”

Excerpt from the journal of Dr. Randall McClain

“What is that ?”

Amira points to something in the sky, her tone laced with fear.

Niran looks up. “Raven.”

She balks. “Since when do ravens weigh ... that thing has to be at least fifty pounds. It’s huge.”

“It’s a Blue Arrow raven.”

For once, Niran spares her a wisecrack. Probably because we’re all exhausted. We’ve spent every moment of darkness on the island searching frantically for the flower for two nights now.

Even though Marcus doesn’t need much sleep when his aromium is on, Amira and I haven’t been able to sleep much during the day. Niran seems to be able to sleep whenever and wherever he wants. Yesterday, he took a nap on a boulder.

It’s evening, and I’m ready to get back to the search. We narrowly avoided a couple of Tiders yesterday when we were searching close to their camp. I’ve been sticking as close as I can to Amira, because if she gets attacked—by an animal or by a Tider—I want to be there to defend her.

The jaguar attack on Chance has reminded us all that we’re not the only apex predators on this island. And our competition has the same aromium advantage we do.

Now that I know more about the aromium experiments, I’m not just leery of the animals here, but also the plants. Vines seem to be my ally, but what about the other plants? An aromium-enhanced jaguar attacked Chance, and I can’t dismiss the possibility that plants could turn on us, too.

“Marcus.” Niran looks up, and Marcus follows his gaze.

There are three giant ravens now, my heart rate kicking up despite my fatigue. Marcus said Virginia can call ravens. I should’ve known they’d be genetically enhanced ravens.

My vines can grow rapidly, build protective structures, and immobilize prey. What can the ravens do?

Marcus’s expression is impassive, but I know by the set of his jaw and the flare of his nostrils that he’s concerned about the birds.

“Can she see us through them?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not directly, but they’re circling to tell her where we are.”

“Wait, who?” Amira asks.

Marcus cuts his gaze to mine. I’m not seeking his permission to tell Amira about the ravens, but I feel him asking me if I’m going to.

He’s been distant again since our talk at the stream. Earlier today, he didn’t even wrap his arm around me while I tried to sleep. He was right beside me, but he stayed in a sitting position, elbows on his knees.

I told myself it was so he could have a better view of any approaching threats.

But it felt like a rebuke. We searched for the flower around Rising Tide and through the swampy section of the island last night, and it was tense, unpleasant work.

My aromium never stops begging me to run to him and tear his clothes off, but we hardly even touch anymore.

I was looking forward to that few hours of quiet closeness with him. Of feeling him locked protectively around me. But I didn’t even get that.

“Virginia,” I tell Amira. “Her aromium connects her to the super ravens on this island, because they have aromium, too.”

She sighs, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Right. Of course. This island is basically an obstacle course designed by Satan. Behind this door”—she gestures to one side—“death by spear-wielding savages! And let’s see what’s behind door number two—” She holds her hand out to the other side.

“Oh! Mauling by a mutant insect or animal.”

I put an arm around her, not sure if my smile is sad or amused. “But at least we’re not alone.”

“Sorry,” she mutters. “I’m just tired of being tired and smelling like a dirty sock.”

“We need to move,” Marcus says tightly. “We should split up for a few hours. The ravens won’t know who to follow and they’re not all that smart, so they might get so confused they don’t follow any of us.”

We work out search areas, agreeing to meet back up at the island’s tallest waterfall in three hours. Marcus leads the way into a dense section of jungle, where the ravens won’t be able to see us.

“You feeling okay?” he asks, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder at me.

“Other than whatever’s happening between us, I’m fine.”

His shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“I know. It’s you not wanting to tell me any of it that’s the issue.”

He spins around to face me, anger pooling in his narrowed eyes. “You think it works like that? Just because we start fucking, I’m supposed to tell you every fucking thought I ever have?”

I raise my chin, not letting him see how hurt I am by what he just said. “My mistake. I won’t ask again.”

Hands on his hips, he avoids my eyes and looks over my shoulder, doing a double take.

“Hang on,” he snaps.

He slashes his machete through something on a branch behind me. Part of a lime-green snake’s body drops to the ground with a thud.

“What was that for?” I ask.

“I didn’t like how close it was getting to you,” he mutters.

“Right. Like when you assumed I wanted to fuck Olin and told me you don’t share.”

He glowers at me. “I don’t.”

He’s fast-tracking his way to the top of my shit list. It’s hard enough being out here scouring an island we’ve been over time and again on hardly any sleep—I’d rather partner with Amira if he’s going to be like this.

“So let me make sure I understand,” I say, my pulse pounding with anger. “You want us to share a room and fuck when you feel like it, and you get to decide we’re exclusive fuck partners, but I don’t get to ask for or expect anything more.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his exhale deep. “No. I’m here for anything you need. If you need to talk, I’ll listen. But that’s not me. I’m not someone who talks about my shit.”

I hold his gaze, fighting the lump in my throat. “Then how can I ever really know you?”

Shaking his head, he says, “You don’t want to know me. Trust me.”

“Yes, I do.” I put a palm on his chest, the contact sending a spark of warmth and arousal through me.

“I know you’ve done bad things—so have I.

I tried to poison Lochlan once and he blamed it on his cook.

They sent her away and I—” I swallow against the shame.

“I knew what was going to happen to her, but I still didn’t admit what I did. I’m responsible for her death.”

His eyes soften with sympathy. He puts his hand over mine. “It was her or you. The real fucked-up part of that whole thing was you being held prisoner in his house.”

“I know, but ... I could have been smarter about what I did. And that’s not?—”

A wolf howls nearby, and Marcus puts a finger over his lips. Then he closes his eyes, seemingly lost in his head for around fifteen seconds.

When he opens his eyes, I ask, “What did you just do?”

“I checked in with Flavius. That was his howl.”

I lower my brows, his ability to exchange actual information with Flavius news to me. “And everything’s okay?”

He nods. “The pack is hunting. That’s all it was.”

I dive back into our conversation, our unresolved issues bothering me too much to leave them like this any longer. “I’m going to stay with Amira when we get back.”

“No, you’re not.”

I huff out a bitter laugh. “Am I a prisoner?”

I get his classic scowl. “No, but we’re better when we’re together and you know it, B. I need you with me.”

“But you won’t tell me what’s on your mind?”

His voice rises with aggravation. “You want to know what’s on my mind? I spend most of my time thinking about what an asshole I am for being with you. For letting you think I’m some good guy when I’m really—” He rubs his jaw and scoffs, looking away. “I’m not even close.”

“I think you’re better than you realize.”

His sage-green eyes are shadowed with doubt.

“I want to be a man you’re proud of, but—” His voice breaks with emotion as he presses my palm harder to his chest. “I’ve got demons chasing me, and you’re the only thing that makes me feel like .

.. like I’m something more than I really am, even if it’s not all the time. ”

Tears well in my eyes. I’ve never seen this side of him. He’s torturing himself, and it’s tearing me apart to see it.

Just as I’m about to respond to him, there’s a sharp crack of breaking branches and snarling sounds, something heavy crashing through the undergrowth to our left. Marcus puts his hands on my shoulders, moving me away from the approaching animal. He leans close, speaking in my ear in a low tone.

“Go.”

I run, slowed by the density of plants and trees. I can feel Marcus’s warmth behind me, a low, rumbling growl on his tail.

“What is it?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained on what’s in front of me.

It should be dark as ink in this part of the jungle, but I can make out a lot of things because aromium is improving my night vision. I take a flying step over a rotting tree stump.

“Lion, I think. The pack’s on?—”

His words cut off and I stop, turning. A massive male lion just knocked him to the ground. The breath whooshes from my chest, the beast’s darkened eyes like twin pools of deep, endless darkness.

“Go, Briar!” Marcus commands. “Run!”

He’s on his feet, crouched with a machete in hand. The lion dips his head, letting out another deep growl.

I reach for the vines with my mind, begging them for help. They’ve only ever helped me, but if Marcus was able to get his wolves to help both of us when we were so cold, I can find a way to get the vines to help him.

It’s our best option. A single shot from a handgun won’t bring the massive lion down, and then he’d be so enraged he’d attack.

Come quickly. I need you.

“Briar, get out of here,” Marcus says, his tone low and commanding. “I don’t need your help.”

Leaves rustle. I know that whooshing sound. It’s the vines flying through the air toward me. I keep my breathing steady and continue summoning them.

They come from every direction. Thick, thorny vines swiftly twine themselves around all of the lion’s legs. He tries to move, snarling when he discovers he can’t.

Marcus wastes no time. He comes to me, gratitude in his eyes as we take off again.

I don’t know how long the vines can hold the lion, so we run and run and run. We’ve covered well over two miles, my breathing hard from pushing myself to my top speed.

“There’s a clearing with a stream to the right,” Marcus says from behind me. “We can cut through the water and he’ll lose our scent if he’s trailing us.”

When we exit the line of trees, I stop abruptly, throwing my hand over my mouth.

I’ve never seen anything like this. Water softly murmurs down the wide stream, a warm, honeyed fragrance filling the night air. And on both sides of the stream, hundreds of waist-high stalks boast bright-blue, iridescent, bell-shaped blooms. Their glow illuminates the space, which feels magical.

Marcus huffs out a cry of relief. He sinks to his knees, his hands on top of his head.

“You did it, B.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You did it.”

“It was us,” I say softly. “All of us.”