Chapter Fourteen: Nightblood

A/N: Hey everyone, long time no update! I've got some serious plans for Jacinta, and I'm almost done with Season 3. The end of this chapter marks something I've wanted to write since very early on in the story, and I can't believe it's finally here. Please let me know what you think, feedback is always amazing.

The sound of a horn blaring roused Jacinta from sleep, jolting her awake. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. It had frustrated her that Clarke had not yet wanted to leave Polis, while she and Murphy were just eager to be gone. Hearing more about the Nightbloods only made Jacinta uncomfortable, very much aware of her secret and desperate to keep it. She couldn't say what would happen if the Grounders discovered she had black blood too, but she didn't think it could be anything good.

"Hey, Jacinta." Murphy rushed into the room, Clarke close behind. Their urgency made knots twist in Jacinta's stomach as she glanced between them. "Come on."

"What's going on?"

"The victory horn," Clarke explained, her blue eyes wide and full of dread. "It means the Conclave has been won."

"But…the Conclave shouldn't have even started yet, it's the middle of the night." Jacinta frowned. She didn't know much about Grounder culture, but she didn't think the Conclave took place in the early hours of the morning.

Murphy raked a hand through his hair. "Exactly."

Easing herself to her feet, Jacinta trailed through the dark corridors after Murphy and Clarke with a sense of trepidation. Even before they entered the throne room, she could hear the sound of various people shouting. As they edged through the open doors and nudged their way through the crowd, Clarke immediately made a beeline for a man Jacinta vaguely as Roan kom Azgeda, the new King of the Ice Nation.

"What's going on?"

Roan pressed a finger to his lips, warning her to be quiet. Titus hesitantly approached the throne, where a young woman about the same age as Jacinta and Clarke sat on the throne, covered in black blood and with a sword in her hand. The way she reclined in the throne with such an ease, as if this was her birthright, troubled Jacinta.

"Who is she?" Jacinta murmured.

"Ontari." Clarke's eyes were still glued to the macabre scene in front of them. "She's Ice Nation, a Nightblood that Nia had hidden away for her own use."

"What is the meaning of this?" Titus demanded.

Ontari reached down and picked something up, and Jacinta pressed a hand over her mouth as she realised that it was a head. It belonged to a young boy, although Jacinta couldn't have said who he was other than a Nightblood. Clarke recognised him, because she made to step forward, outraged.

"Aden…"

Roan restrained her, keeping a firm grip on her arm. "If she sees you, she'll have your head too."

"Clarke, I think we should get out of here," Murphy insisted, and privately, Jacinta had to agree with him. This girl was clearly unbalanced and hungry for power and blood. If she'd been hidden away, what was to stop her from killing Jacinta the second she found out that the Mountain girl was a Nightblood?

Ontari contemptuously kicked a sack down the steps and out spilled more heads – the heads of children, the Nightblood kids who had meant to compete for the title of Commander. Titus stepped back, even the Flamekeeper horrified at the shocking display of violence.

A mocking smile curved the corners of Ontari's lips. "I win."

The fact that the King of the Ice Nation himself was getting them out of Polis indicated the severity of the situation. If Roan had trusted Ontari in the slightest, he wouldn't have been doing this behind her back. The fact that the Grounder capital was in such turmoil was deeply troubling to Jacinta, as she carefully sidestepped obstacles in their path in the darkness of the night.

"Roan, slow down," Clarke said, although Jacinta had to admit that she was in a hurry to get out of Polis. "We need to talk to Titus."

Roan made no attempt to slow his pace at all. "Trust me, right now, your friend Titus is on his knees in front of Ontari."

"No," Clarke insisted firmly, "There's no way he'll support someone who hacked the heads off children while they slept."

"Yeah, those children were marked for death anyway," Roan reminded her casually. Grounder culture was clearly brutal, and while what Ontari had done was despicable, they wouldn't have been in for a much better fate had the Conclave proceeded as planned.

"You'll support her too," Clarke accused.

Roan was unperturbed. "She's Ice Nation."

"Whatever's best for your people, is that it?" Clarke's tone was bitter, but her accusatory tone had very little impact on the King of the Ice Nation."

"That's it. Kind of like killing every man, woman and child in Mount Weather was best for yours."

Jacinta raised a hand. "Hi, exception to that massacre."

Roan frowned and glanced at her as if seeing her for the first time. She suspected that he'd believed she was another member of the Sky People. His eyes narrowed slightly as he inspected her critically.

"You were from Mount Weather?"

"Not anymore," Jacinta assured him, unwilling to let more tensions rise in this moment, wishing she'd kept her silence. "I didn't do anything to your people. The ones who did are dead."

Aside from Emerson.

"Tunnel's through here." Roan gestured, and Jacinta was all too keen to hurry over along with Murphy. Reaching the gaping opening of the tunnel, Jacinta rolled her eyes as she realised that although Clarke had made no attempt to follow Roan back in, she wasn't heading for the tunnel either. Clearly, she wasn't intending to leave the city just yet.

"You're staying, aren't you?" Jacinta planted her hands on her hips when Clarke nodded. "Well, I've had about enough of this city. If you want to continue exploring, you're welcome to, but I'm heading back to Arkadia."

"By yourself?" Murphy asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows as if it was some kind of ludicrous suggestion.

Jacinta's smile was tight. "I've been alone for a long time. I can manage."

Jacinta knew the land better than most of the Sky People, so navigating to Arkadia – although it would take a few days – wouldn't be difficult for her. As she set up camp for the night, her last before reaching Arkadia, she warmed her hands over the fire and tried to ease her troubled mind. Since the commotion in Polis and her argument with Bellamy, she'd found herself conflicted and feeling lonelier than ever.

Jacinta wasn't a Mountain girl anymore. Her people were all dead, aside from a man she had no desire to acknowledge as part of the same community as her. She hoped that Emerson died in the wilderness, because she didn't know what might happen if she stumbled across him again. Every snap of a twig made her paranoid that he could be in the trees, watching her.

She wasn't a member of the Sky People. Despite her attempts to integrate herself into their society, she was always going to stand out. Her bright auburn hair marked her as the outsider. With Bellamy, she'd felt like perhaps she could belong – but with Pike on the warpath, Jacinta knew things had taken a direction she couldn't follow.

She definitely wasn't a Grounder. Her black blood tied her to them in some way, but she doubted they would ever accept her as one of them. If they found out she was a Nightblood, they'd surely kill her. Clarke had said Nightbloods were forced into a Conclave whether they wanted to fight or not. Jacinta had no choice in the matter – should her secret be discovered, she'd be even more of a threat to them.

Pressing her face into her hands, Jacinta's shoulders shook with frustrated sobs. She was adrift with nothing and no one to anchor her. She hated her dad for this, for making her this creature with black blood, for being unwilling to cease his experiments, for abandoning her as though he hadn't even cared whether she lived or died. With every breath she cursed his name.

A hand clamped over Jacinta's mouth and she immediately began to struggle, teeth biting into the palm that silenced her.

"Jacinta, it's me. It's Sinclair."

Only when she stopped thrashing did he spin her around to face him. Why was he out here in the wilderness? Jacinta had about a thousand questions for him, and he seemed to sense that because he held up a hand.

"I'll explain everything. Right now, you need to come with me. You're not safe here, and you're definitely not safe in Arkadia."

"Okay, but you can start explaining right now." Jacinta put out the fire and hauled her pack over her shoulder. As she followed Sinclair, he filled her in on everything – things that made what had happened in Polis look like a simple problem in comparison. Pike had become Chancellor, but had since been taken to Polis to answer for the crimes he'd committed against the Grounders. Jaha had since seized control with a devoted group of followers loyal to something called A.L.I.E, a computer program inserted in the form of a chip that seemed to have a goal of its own. Many of them had been forced into hiding.

"Where are we going?" Jacinta inquired, knowing that Sinclair wasn't leading them back to Arkadia, but wondering where their destination was. She blinked as suddenly the blinding bright lights of the Rover came into focus, wincing and shielding her eyes. There were various small fires lit around what appeared to be a hut.

"We're safe here," Sinclair convinced Jacinta, although she wasn't so certain. Nonetheless, she followed him inside. The sound of a woman screaming 'let me go!' over and over reached her ears, making her glance at a now grim Sinclair. Jacinta froze when she realised Bellamy was just inside the hut with a gun in his hands.

"Jacinta?"

"Bellamy?" Her voice was soft and uncertain. They hadn't spoken since their fight, and she was unsure where things stood with them now. She hadn't expected to see him here, and it seemed as though his loyalties might have shifted from Pike. He moved to embrace her, but Jacinta took a step away, glancing from him to Sinclair to the angry-looking Grounder woman over near the fire.

"Tell me what's happening."

"We captured Raven." Bellamy looked at Sinclair. "She's been chipped and she's under A.L.I.E.'s control. A.L.I.E. is…"

"I know what it is." Jacinta held up a hand. "Sinclair explained it all to me on the way. So why did we bring Raven here?"

"We want to see if we can get the chip out of her." Bellamy fiddled with the gun in his hands, clearly avoiding looking at Jacinta. "Look, I just wanted to say, about everything that happened before…"

He was prevented from going on by Monty and Octavia entering the room. They both appeared a bit startled to see Jacinta. The way that Octavia's eyes flared with anger and her jaw clenched when she looked to her brother made Jacinta realise something terrible must have happened in her absence. Bellamy refused to look at Octavia too.

"We're heading to the dropship," Monty explained, his eyes darting between Bellamy and Jacinta, "We're gonna need an EMP to get the chip out of her."

"Be careful," Bellamy said, but Octavia was already heading out of the hut. Monty headed over to pull Jacinta into a hug, and she could see the concern in his dark eyes when he drew back.

"It's good to have you back, Jacinta," he said, before following Octavia out into the night.

Once they were gone, Jacinta turned to look at Bellamy with raised eyebrows. As Sinclair had only really glossed over the events of the past few days, it was obvious there were things she was missing. She didn't think she'd ever seen Octavia look at Bellamy with that much hatred.

"What did you do?"

"Lincoln was executed." Bellamy swallowed hard. "Octavia…she blames me, because I sided with Pike. But after that…"

He lapsed into silence, shaking his head. Jacinta could see tears welling in his eyes, and realised that he truly did regret his decision to side with the man. It could have been the end of their relationship, but the spark of hope was rekindled within Jacinta, making her think perhaps they could work this out after all. Moving closer, Jacinta rested a hand on Bellamy's arm.

"Sometimes we choose things that…we make wrong choices. We're only human, Bellamy. As far as I know, you weren't the one who killed Lincoln. Octavia will realise that someday, but right now she's hurt and she's angry. She's still grieving."

Jacinta spoke from experience. How badly had she wanted to push the blame of Mount Weather onto Clarke? In her mourning, she had needed someone to be angry at, and Clarke had taken the brunt of her anger. It was true that Clarke had killed her grandfather, but it had been Cage to doom Mount Weather. Pushing her pain onto someone who shouldn't have to bear it had been her mistake – one she still hadn't apologised for. She and Clarke would never be best friends, but there was no use in holding Clarke accountable for actions beyond her control.

"Can you forgive me?" Bellamy asked. "I was all too ready to push you aside and…"

"I do." Jacinta offered him a tight smile, but a genuine one nonetheless. She leaned in to kiss him. It was less passionate than their usual kisses, yet it was the start of something new. A chance for Bellamy to redeem himself, not just for her sake, but for the sake of everyone he'd hurt in his decision to side with Pike. When she drew back, Bellamy's dark eyes were emotional.

"I love you."

Jacinta bit her lip. The words from him had been so unexpected, and she wasn't sure that she was ready to reciprocate them. She didn't want to return the sentiment if she wasn't whole-heartedly certain that she meant it. She cared deeply about Bellamy, but was this love? She needed to be sure before she said something like he just had.

"One day I'll say it back," she murmured.

For a few moments, they remained in comfortable silence. However, that was interrupted when Octavia and Monty returned. Monty marched straight past them, looking extremely shaken. Octavia said nothing but instead looked meaningfully at Bellamy. Jacinta realised that perhaps their trip to get the EMP hadn't been as straightforward as they'd anticipated.

"What is it?"

"It's not my place to say," Octavia responded, before she followed Monty into the back where the others were with Raven. Jacinta threw a troubled look at Bellamy, who was frowning deeply.

"Come on. We should go outside and make sure A.L.I.E. doesn't find us."

Jacinta followed him out into the cool night air, sucking in a deep breath. It felt good to be talking to Bellamy again, to have their relationship on the mend. With everything else that was happening, she didn't know how she would have survived being on bad terms with Bellamy. It wasn't completely healed, but the wound was stitched up. They were healing, together.

The humming of a drone made them both look up. On instinct, Jacinta snatched Bellamy's gun from his hands and fired a single shot that knocked the drone out of the sky. It hit the ground with a thud. Bellamy stared at her incredulously as she handed the gun back to him, the moment of the adrenaline rush over. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, raising her eyebrows at his intense examination.

"That was…I didn't know you were such a good shot."

"Mount Weather was once a military base," Jacinta explained, a little uncomfortable as she was whenever she had to bring up the place that had once been home to her. "Just because I don't like violence and war doesn't mean I can't handle a weapon."

"Guys! We gotta go."

The others emerged from the hut, Sinclair carrying Raven – who wasn't struggling this time, indicating that the EMP had been successful. Bellamy and Jacinta exchanged looks, before they headed over to the Rover. Jacinta clambered into the front seat, twisting around to watch as the others filed in. As they started up the Rover, Clarke approached Raven, who was in the back wrapped in a blanket to help keep her warm.

"Why did A.L.I.E. want you to kill yourself?"

"I know how to stop her," Raven explained with a triumphant smile. "The Flame – it's A.L.I.E. 2. We need a Nightblood to merge with it to access it, and that way, they can tell us how to destroy the original A.L.I.E."

Suddenly, Jacinta felt sick all over again. She turned to face the front, remaining silent. Yet more people that she had to protect her secret from. She wasn't a Nightblood, she fiercely assured herself. She had been created and not born, so it wasn't the same. She was simply a bastardisation of a Nightblood. Yet she was beginning to believe that, in their hour of desperation, they might decide near enough was good enough.

Jacinta jumped out of the passenger seat of the Rover, casting around the abandoned Arkadia. She knew she wasn't alone in wondering where everyone had gone. All they needed was Lincoln's book to lead them to Luna – a known Nightblood who had been part of the same group as Lexa, but who had fled the Conclave. Seeing the place empty should have been comforting in how easy it would be to obtain the book, but Jacinta knew things were never that simple.

"I'll go get the map," Octavia stated, heading out with Jasper hot on her heels.

The quiet was beginning to give Jacinta the creeps. Apparently, there were some others who had hidden in the caves, and who hadn't answered when Bellamy radioed in. Silence all around. It was disconcerting.

"I'm going to look for supplies."

"I'll come with you," Bellamy offered, causing Jacinta to glance at him. She didn't want company right now, but being alone probably wasn't a great option either. She knew she could only keep her secret safe for so long – after all, how unlikely was it that she was never going to bleed again? It would only take one small wound for the others to discover the truth, and then what would they think of her?

"You've been quiet since we headed out here," Bellamy pointed out as they turned down a corridor. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Jacinta shook her head vigorously. "Just…this place gives me the creeps. The sooner we can find the map to Luna and get out of here, the happier I'll be."

"Why don't we head outside and get a bit of air?" Bellamy suggested, and Jacinta nodded. She followed him out into the sunlight, scanning their surroundings. There was once a time when she'd been able to appreciate the sheer beauty of nature, for the very reason that she could never access it. Now she wondered whether she'd been safer inside the mountain.

"Bellamy! Jacinta!" Clarke sprinted over to them, struggling to breathe. Bellamy caught her by the arms as she coughed and tried to catch her breath. "Emerson. It's Emerson, he's here."

"What?" Jacinta was immediately on red alert, chills running down her spine at the thought her worst enemy could be so close. "Where?"

"I don't know." Clarke shook her head fervently. "But he set off a smoke grenade. I…I think he has Monty."

Jacinta spun to face Bellamy. "We need to get the others on the radio right now."

Bellamy picked up his radio, and the distraction was good enough. Jacinta marched back toward the ship. She knew that Bellamy would never condone this, that he'd never let her take on this burden alone. But this wasn't his choice to make. She'd spared him at Polis and was beginning to seriously regret that decision. If she found Emerson, she would kill him – and not even Bellamy could stop her.

Jacinta knew that this wasn't a smart plan in the slightest, but the fire of vengeance had been lit within her – and this time, there was no putting it out. She had tried to be the bigger person in Polis, break the cycle of violence, and this was where it had gotten her. Her friends were missing. They might even be dead. She knew Emerson, and knew he wanted Clarke to pay for the destruction of Mount Weather. But where did that leave Jacinta? As the only other survivor, she knew she had to be part of his plan…but how?

She'd headed to the armoury to figure out which weapon she wanted to kill her nemesis with, and settled on a gun. She'd make it quick and clean, which was really more than Emerson deserved. Heading back down the corridors, keeping her footsteps soft, Jacinta paused when she heard raised voices – including those of Bellamy and Clarke. She swallowed hard as she realised that Emerson had found them.

Following the sound of the cacophony, Jacinta rounded a corner and froze when she saw that Emerson had rounded up her friends and tied them up in an airlock. Bellamy was even locking himself into some handcuffs as Emerson pointed a gun at his head. Clarke had her hands held up in surrender.

"Get on your knees, Clarke. Put your hands behind your head."

The blonde did as instructed, before Emerson stepped out of the airlock, his gun pointed directly at her to dissuade any idea of rebellion. He pressed several buttons to lock them in, before walking toward Clarke with his gun still pointed at her head.

"Emerson!" Jacinta shouted, drawing his attention away from the blonde. A deranged smile crossed his face at the sight of her, something horrible lighting up in his eyes.

"Jacinta. I've been waiting for you." When she paused, his smile widened. "Of course I knew that you'd be here too. Now you get to watch them all die as well. Put the gun down, before I decide I want to shoot Clarke in the head after all."

Knowing that she had no alternative, Jacinta slowly placed her gun on the ground, trying to think. Both she and Clarke weren't in the airlock. Between them, she knew they could take out Emerson. The only question was, could they do so in time to save their friends?

"Kick it to me."

Hating herself, Jacinta did so. Emerson picked up her gun and tossed it aside, before stepping forward to hit the red button on the panel outside the airlock. Emerson's weapon stayed trained on Clarke's head, the insanity clear on his face as red lights began to flash.

"Airlock 5, oxygen venting."

"No!" Clarke exclaimed, but she stayed on her knees for fear of what might happen if she tried to get up.

Jacinta knew she couldn't let her friends, couldn't let Bellamy, die like this. Whatever the risk to herself, she had to take it. Teeth bared, she sprinted down the corridor and lunged at Emerson with enough force to send them both toppling to the ground. Rage and adrenaline gave her strength as she landed a solid punch to his face, but Emerson was a lot stronger than Jacinta. He gripped her wrists and easily flipped her onto her back. When Clarke made to move, Emerson pointed the gun back at her, letting her know that she hadn't been forgotten about.

Jacinta thrashed against his hold as he wrapped a hand around her neck. In the flashing lights, something shone in Emerson's belt. A knife. If she could only get to it, then she could end this once and for all. Emerson's grip tightened on her neck and Jacinta choked. She could feel her hope draining from her. She was going to die here on the cold floor at the hands of her enemy.

"Your mum couldn't fight worth a damn either," Emerson hissed.

The words, and what those words inferred, made Jacinta's blood boil with fury. She wouldn't become another victim of Emerson's. With a strangled cry of rage, Jacinta kneed him between the legs. Emerson grunted, his grip loosening slightly, but it was enough for Jacinta to reach down and yank the knife from his belt.

It cut into her fingers as she slid it out, and for a few moments, both she and Emerson battled for dominance. Emerson twisted her arm, making her scream as the knife sliced into her arm. Through the pain and her spinning head, Jacinta turned the knife and stabbed into Emerson's stomach.

Clarke scrambled to her feet and over to airlock, but Jacinta's mind was grimly focused on the task at hand. Emerson gave a strangled gasp, and she pushed hard so that he was the one on his back. He stared down at the knife protruding from his stomach, at the crimson stain spreading outwards, thick and fast.

He could have died there from blood loss. She could have left him. But here and now, in the moments after he had just referred to her long-dead mother, Jacinta was merciless.

With another raw cry, Jacinta ripped the knife free and stabbed him again. And again. She didn't know how many times she drove the knife into him, her teeth bared in savage rage, until he finally fell still.

She was sickened at what she was done, or rather, sickened at the realisation that she felt such utter relief at killing him. Her body convulsing with sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks, Jacinta eased herself to her feet. The knife, her hands, the floor, her clothes…Emerson's blood was everywhere. She'd never wash it all off.

When she finally clambered to her feet, all eyes were on her. She must have looked a mess – face blotchy and tear-stained, practically covered in blood at this point. Then her gaze drifted down and she realised at exactly what they were all staring at. Not the scene of her gruesome first kill, but the blood that ran down Jacinta's arms from where the knife had sliced into her.

Blood black as night.