The Annihilator: Part 3 – Chapter 26

THE SMELL OF BURNING flesh was putrid, almost enough to make her sick.

As the fire burned away at the room, the heat getting hotter on her skin, Lyla walked away from the corridor and out toward the exit of the factory, everything she was feeling, everything she had experienced and discovered crashing down on her.

She had a brother.

A few steps into the gloomy factory.

She had family.

Her breathing got choppy.

He hadn’t told her.

Something tight invaded her gut.

Before she knew what she was doing, her feet were flying. She began to run, full-throttle, away from the fire, away from the hell, away from the man, nothing but rage pulsing in her head. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t told her, couldn’t believe he’d not given her a single indication that he knew something about her past.

As her feet led her over the cemented floor right to the main entrance, she heard him call out for her.

‘Lyla.’

Just one word, and her feet faltered before she righted herself. ‘Do you know my real name?’

He paused, his eyes watchful. ‘Yes.’

Fuck him.

She broke out into a full-speed run.

She needed to get away from him, needed to get some space before she did something she would regret, like scratch his mismatched eyes out.

The emotions swirling in a tornado inside her, she exited into the block, moonlight ample enough to show her the eerie quietness. She hesitated, wondering if she should go through the way they’d come, or take the left toward an unknown area. She looked back to check where he was, only to see him walking casually toward her, his hands in his pockets, eyes intent on her.

She hated that he was approaching her so slowly, that there was no urgency in his chase as there was in her heartbeats.

Fuck him. The thought was on repeat in her mind.

She pivoted left, and began to run to her full speed, her smaller frame quick, more agile, her eyes taking in the area. Industrial block after block passed, the space for her to run narrowing as the final block she crossed opened on some kind of dock but without any boats, just a stream of water spanning the vantage.

Turning, she began to run parallel to the river, not knowing where she was going, just knowing she needed to get away as the cemented path giving away to softer soil.

After a few minutes of running, with her lungs burning and her calves screaming, she stopped, resting her hands on her knees, catching her breath as she looked around for him.

She was alone.

Had he given up on chasing her? Or was he giving her space?

And she was messed up because she hated that. She’d expected him to be at the corner, expected him to be barreling down and taking her with him. She’d expected him to be there, but he wasn’t, not as far as the eyes could see. She was in a strange place, all alone, and it was dark.

Tired, she walked to the wooden dock, right over the river, and slumped down on the slabs.

She sat there quietly, looking over the river and to the other side, the bank more forested than this side, and she began to shake.

She didn’t know if it was the adrenaline from the running, or the high of the power, or the aftermath of her first murder, or the discovery of her long-lost family. She didn’t know what it was, but as her tremors intensified and her eyes began to burn, she stared mindlessly at the water, her mind collapsing again into a kind of numbness that was terrifying her.

Arms came around her, a warm body at her back, legs on each side of her, his masculine scent in her nose.

‘Xander is with your brother.’

Five words.

Five words that tilted her world on its axis all over again.

She gripped his arms to anchor herself, her chest heaving as a noise left her, the burn overpowering her eyes. The shivers wracked her frame and she cried out, sobbing as the facts hit her one after the other.

She had a brother.

Her baby was with her brother.

She had family.

Her baby had family.

Her sobs turned to hiccups and she stared at the water, her throat burning.

‘He’s a smart kid,’ he told her, and she soaked his words, letting them water the waiting, parched parts of herself. ‘I hired an old woman to take care of him for the first few years while I tracked your history and where you’d come from.’

‘He… he knows you?’ she stumbled over the question, unable to believe it.

His arms gave her a squeeze. ‘He does. I talked to him, explained that he had family he had to go to, and he understood. He’s sharp. Then, I placed him in an orphanage and led your brother right to him.’

She swallowed. ‘What’s… my br… my brother like?’

There was a long pause. ‘He leads the mafia operations in Shadow Port. He’s determined, lethal, and he’s not stopped looking for you since you were taken from him twenty-two years ago.’

The honest, matter-of-factness of his words made her close her eyes as she absorbed them. Her brother. He was in the underworld too. And he had been searching for her.

‘What’s his name?’ her voice croaked.

‘Tristan Caine,’ the man behind her spoke, his voice neutral.

‘And… what’s my name?’

A hand turned her face to the side, her eyes locking with his in the moonlight. ‘Luna.’

Luna. It felt strange. She didn’t feel like a Luna.

She looked at him, unable to process it all, unable to understand everything she was feeling. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

He stayed quiet for a long minute, so long she almost thought he wouldn’t answer her. ‘At first, I didn’t know. By the time I did, you were starting to self-harm in thoughts, and I had to keep you hanging in for the answers.’

‘And you didn’t think telling me I had a brother, that Xander was with family, would have helped me hang on?’

It was odd hearing the bitterness in her voice. He leveled a steady look at her. ‘Would it have? If I’d told you you had family and the kid was safe, would you have hung on?’

She didn’t know. Back then, she’d been a different girl, with a mindset she didn’t go into anymore. She didn’t know how she would have behaved. But that didn’t let his off the hook.

‘And what about after? When you took me home? You still couldn’t have said anything?’

He sighed, the only outward reaction to whatever was happening inside him. ‘You would have left me.’

She blinked. ‘What?’

‘If I’d told you then, you would have left me, and I didn’t know if you’d return. And I couldn’t risk that. Dr. Manson also advised me not to put too much on your mind.’

She turned her neck away, unable to keep her eyes on him, anger coming to the forefront of her mind again. ‘So you lied to me by omission.’

He didn’t say anything.

A dark laugh left her. ‘So what? Now that I love you, it’s okay for me to know? Was that your plan? To make my stupid heart fall for you every damn day until I had no choice but to be with you? So that even if I left, I’d be with you? Was that it?’

His silence spoke volumes.

Done with him, done with everything, she pushed off from the ground. He started to get up but she pushed her palm out, stopping him. ‘I can’t see you right now. I need some fucking space. Don’t you dare come after me.’

His jaw clenched but he stayed where he was, and she walked away the same way she’d come, hands in her pockets, not looking back at him. She walked back to the industrial block, past the factory now burning, her eyes lingering on the flames and smoke of her past. Whoever she had been in there months ago, the shell of a girl, ashes of her own being, was gone. She had risen, been reborn, and watching the flames, she could feel the heat of their kiss on her skin. The fire, once terrifying, was now her lover, and it was this fire that had purified her, reset her, rekindled her.

Acknowledging that, remembering the power she had taken back before she had killed her tormentor, she walked past the factory and toward the main street, merging into the noise and hustle of the city. She didn’t know if he followed her, and frankly, she didn’t care. She just walked and walked and walked, one with the crowd, her mind numb and reeling simultaneously.

The scent of tea broke through her haze. She looked to the side to find a small food shop, the wonderful scent wafting from the inside, and she entered. It was quaint. Going to the back of the shop, she ordered herself some herbal tea and a pastry, and took her phone out. Dainn had given her the device when they’d left home, guiding her on how to use it for everything—from calling to paying someone to sending a text.

But as she stared at the screen, she opened the search bar, her fingers hesitating.

And then she typed.

‘Tristan Caine’.

She found a few hits, some newspaper articles, some images. Hands shaking, she clicked on one of the photos, to look down at a good-looking man with bright blue eyes. Lyla stared at the photo for a long second, unable to grasp if it was his features that looked familiar or if she’d seen him somewhere. Scrolling to the next photo, she gasped. It was him with a brunette in glasses, both of them looking at each other, the caption reading ‘Tristan Caine and Morana Vitalio rumored to be engaged’.

Morana.

She remembered that name. She remembered the girl that night in her club, the night she had almost ended her life. He had been there. Her brother had been right there, and she hadn’t even known. Instead, she had gone up to her room and overdosed herself.

The messed up situation messed with her head. She put the phone down, drawing in short, sharp breaths to calm herself.

Tristan and Morana were together, and they were taking care of Xander. That was good. That, at least, was the biggest relief she had felt in a long time. She didn’t know what she was going to do, didn’t know how she was going to process anything, but she was glad from the glimpse of them she’d had that they’d seemed good, good enough to raise her baby boy.

The waiter brought her tea and pastries, and she just looked at them blankly, unknowing about the outside world.

Her brother, Tristan, was looking for her, for the sister he’d lost. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. She wasn’t Luna, and she didn’t know how she could meet him, didn’t know how she could put her broken self out there. What if she didn’t live up to who he had in his mind? What if she wasn’t enough? What if she fell short? Would he be disappointed that he’d spent so much time looking for her? Would he be frustrated and try to make her into someone else? And after all this time, would she be able to trust anyone on the outside? What did she even know about family? And what about Xander? What would she even say to him? If he was happy and settled, how could she ever destroy that?

As the self-sabotaging thoughts filled her mind, she closed her eyes and snapped the hair tie on her wrist.

It didn’t work.

Thoughts and questions swirled in her head, drowning her, and she breathed through her mouth, trying to calm herself down.

It didn’t work.

The phone in her hand vibrated, an unknown number calling. Focusing on her breathing, she picked up, staying silent.

There was silence on the other end.

She looked down to see if the call was still engaged, and put it back to her ear. There was a dark chuckle on the other end. Slightly creeped out, she bit her lip.

‘Luna Caine,’ a man’s deep voice, evil voice said over the line. ‘The bane of my existence for twenty years.’

She gripped the phone in hand. ‘You’ve got the wrong number.’

‘No, little girl,’ the familiar voice spoke. ‘I’ve got the right number. Do you remember me?’

Her heart began to pound, old, old memories washing over her mind.

‘Such a pretty little girl.’

She began to shake.

‘I’m going to kill your lover, sweetheart,’ the evil voice told her. ‘The Shadow Man will die. Your brother will die. I’ve let you all live for too long. And then, when he is finished, I will take you for myself just like I did when you were younger. Do you remember?’

Bile rose in her stomach, climbing her throat. She swallowed it down, reminding herself she wasn’t that scared little girl anymore, tat she was a grown woman, one who had just murdered one of her demons.

‘Wrong number,’ she said, before hanging up the phone. She looked around the little place, noticing some people looking her way but unable to discern if it was dangerous. There were too many people.

She needed to get out.

Paying for the untouched order, she ran outside the shop and hailed a cab, giving him the name of the hotel.

As the city flew by, she closed her eyes, giving herself a moment of respite before everything crashed around her again.