The answering low chuckle sends chills down my spine. I strain my eyes into the shadowed trees and bushes that surround us. I should be able to see him.
“I haven’t heard fuckhead before.” The voice seems to ring out in the night. “When people manage to speak before me, they call me the messenger of the gods. But it does have a ring to it.”
“Some psycho homeless guy,” Aiden mutters.
“No,” Izzy says, her voice full of terror and her gaze suddenly far away, and for some reason her one word holds a spell over us.
We linger, staring into the shadows, waiting.
“They thought the gods were too powerful. They wanted them gone. There was betrayal. There was blood and war. But a god can never die.” His words come out rough, almost inhuman, a rambling of madness that sounds so serious none of us speak. “I went to Hel to save my brother’s life. No one else was brave enough. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t bring him back. And then, when I thought Hel would grant my quest, the gods were buried...”
The shadows separate, and I hear the unmistakable sound of hooves on the dirt before something emerges from the darkness.
My heart stops. A creature rides on top of a horse. Not a man. Some kind of demon, or a creature born from nightmares. He’s tall, unbelievable tall, with a silver helmet and horns. Golden eyes glow from beneath the helmet. In his hand is a spear, and his body is covered in armor. As he moves closer, my gaze moves over to his armored horse. It has… eight legs.
Holy fucking hell.
“No one will be happy to see you. They will try to trap you. They will try to stop the coming of the gods. But no one can stop this. It was written, and so it shall be.”
He freezes then, his gaze moving over us until it lands on Izzy. “You shall decide. Live or die. A new world or the same, old, dark one. You.”
Then, his gaze goes to Reid. “Hel, you can always call on Hermod, and I will always come. You know my price. Return my brother.”
When he kicks his heels into the side of the horse, the horse flies toward us. There’s no time to run. No time to react. We shift, curling ourselves over Izzy, tensing as one, ready for an impossible creature to trample us to death. The hoofprints rise in my ears, matching my racing heart.
And then, suddenly, the night is silent.
I open my eyes and rise slowly to a standing position. The creature…it’s vanished.
“What the fuck was that?” Aiden asks.
But I don’t have an answer.
“It can’t be real,” Reid says, but even he sounds unconvinced.
As we stand, the stars begin to fall above us. Or at least, they seem to. Colors of impossible brightness and color rain down on us, and we stare as the lights cling to us like embers. They gather more and more, coating our flesh. And then, I stop and really look at the people around us.
We look like gods. The thought comes and goes in a flash. We look magical. Impossible. But the crazy horseman that can’t exist wasn’t telling the truth.
Right?
And then, the embers start to burn and burn and burn. I hear someone around me scream. And then more screams join the first, but my vision is filled by the brightness. The burning is maddening, sizzling my skin from my body. Pain unlike anything imaginable consumes me, and I’m lost to the fire.
Time passes. I don’t know how much. All there is is the burning.
My eyes slowly open. I expect to see myself burnt to a crisp. Actually, I expected to know deep in my heart that I’m dead.
But I don’t feel dead.
I feel more alive than I ever have before.
Chapter Four
Mr. Time
It’s suddenly hard to breathe. I grip the edge of my desk to keep from falling, and as my vision narrows, I stumble to make it into my chair before I collapse.
My vision flickers wildly between this world and many others all at once. The sensation is overwhelming. So many different futures, all changed because of a solitary event.
One I knew was coming.
But even so, I’m shocked. The event makes ripples race over the future, unsettling everything.
I fall into my chair, breathing rapidly as the images slowly fade away. In my office, a lone lamp sits lit in one corner. The rest of the room sits in shadows. It’s so late it’s almost morning, and yet, energy courses through me.
The future of the entire world has changed. It’s something that rarely happens in a Time Keeper’s life, and something I’ve been preparing for since that heartbreaking day so long ago.
I gave them eighteen years. It was the longest I could protect them. And now, their lives of normalcy will be gone forever.
I think of my daughter, and my heart clenches. A man with my power, and this was the most I could do. Pathetic.
A slight tapping comes at my office door.
I already know who it is. A woman who I’ve trusted with everything, except this information. Because even though she would understand my loyalty, she would have had to act. And we would’ve become foes.
“Enter.”
The woman pushes the door open. She’s the oldest fae I’ve ever encountered and one of the few who care about what happens to humanity. Which is one of the reasons she’s also a teacher at our reform school.
“May I come in?” she asks in a voice that holds uncertainty.
I nod.
She enters, closing the door behind her. Even though she felt the change only a few moments ago, just as I did, she’s dressed in an elegant burnt-orange gown that clings to her tiny frame, and her hair is pinned up in a flawless way, as if she hadn’t just climbed out of bed. She’s always perfection, something that never ceases to amaze me. She moves across the room with all the regality of a queen, and her hazel eyes watch me as she seats herself lightly in her chair.
“They’ve returned,” she says. It’s not a question, but a statement.
A shudder moves through my body, and I nod in horror. In disbelief. It had taken so much power, so much magic, and the unity of all the paranormal beings to lock away the gods those many years ago. But we had to, for the survival of us all. The power-hungry beings could never be killed, but most people believed trapping them was enough. That they were imprisoned for eternity.
Esmerelda and I had always known differently. No one could keep the gods locked away forever.
What we didn’t know? That the gods would find the only way back that wouldn’t end in their instant exile. The only thing they could do to stay my hand.
Eventually, Esmerelda would know the truth about my weakness. But I hoped it wouldn’t be tonight. I doubted she’d ever be able to forgive me.
I wasn’t sure if I could forgive myself.
“How did they do it?” she asks, watching me, knowing that I’ve seen it all.
A chill rolls down my spine as the faces of the young people move through my mind. So innocent. So unknowing of anything, including the parasites that have made their way into the children’s bodies.
I try to keep my personal attachment hidden behind a mask of indifference. “They’ve been reborn in the bodies of young humans. Ones they somehow marked…and others who were so closely connected to the marked that they allowed more gods to be able to come through.”
Esmerelda’s eyes widened. “Human children?”
“They’re barely adults.”
I watch her swallow visibly. We both know the easiest answer, the safest way to handle this. If we kill the children, the gods will lose their hosts and the world will be free of them again. As cruel as it might sound, it might also be the most merciful act. All the creatures who are sensitive to changes in the world will know the gods were reborn tonight, and they’ll desire the children’s blood and deaths.
But as I’ve seen into the future, it isn’t the only way. Just the easiest.
And I would have to be absolutely certain, to do what I couldn’t do so long ago.
“Will we kill them?” she asks.
“No,”
I answer without hesitation.
“Not yet?”
I amend my words, realizing a second too late what the fae would’ve expected me to say. “Not yet. There are futures. Futures where being the gods changes little. Futures where if the children can maintain control, they protect mankind. It’s a gamble, but I feel it’s worth it.”
Her gaze softens, and I’m relieved to realize I’ve made her happy with my kindness. “But how will we keep them safe? Out in the world, they have no chance of surviving.”
She’s right, but then, she always is.
“We’ll need to get them to the school.”
“But even here…”
“They won’t be safe anywhere, but this will be the best place for them. We can watch the children. We can see if they allow the gods to take control. And we can end them, if we find they’re walking down the wrong path.”
Esmerelda looks sad as she reaches across my desk.
I take her much smaller hand in mine.
“I’m afraid,” she tells me, holding nothing back.
Her honesty makes my heart lurch. She’s always been a far better being than I am. I have too many secrets.
I squeeze her hand. “I am too, but we won’t allow them to destroy the world again. Even though there is nothing greater than life, we will kill the children if we must.”
Her gaze holds mine. “You know we can probably kill their bodies, but their souls, entwined with gods, will just find new hosts. If we want them truly gone, we’ll have to lock them away with the gods.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. I might see the future, but my beautiful fae knows more about the magical world than I ever could, after her long life. We both remember the time of the gods. We both know we can’t allow such a thing to happen again.
And yet, when I imagine the hell the children will experience trapped for eternity with the gods, it makes my skin crawl. We have to do everything in our power to steer them onto the right path.
“We’ll get them here, and then we’ll push them until we break them. And if, when they break, they show the dangerous side of themselves, we have our answer.”
Tears fill her eyes. “May the magics of time and eternity give those children the strength to do what’s right.”
“Amen,” I whisper.
She’s quiet for a long minute before she speaks. “Will you collect them now?”
I shake my head. “The future is clear: one way or another, they will lose everything within a day, and the next step will be easy.”
We stay there for awhile, holding hands in the near-darkness. Never before have we killed children, but we’re both preparing to do exactly that now. Only, as much as this might destroy her to do, it’ll be worse for me.
It’s never easy to kill one’s own blood.
Chapter Five
Izzy
I barely manage to collapse into bed and fall asleep when my alarm starts bleating. My eyes flash open, and I stare at the ceiling in groggy disbelief. Is it really time to get up already? I will myself to stand up and turn off the alarm, but I can’t quite summon the strength to move. My arms and legs feel pinned to the bed. My muscles feel like mush.
Last night rushes back in a blur of memories that doesn’t even make sense. Whatever the hell happened in the library. Wilder holding me, trying to calm me down. The car ride with him and Van...and then the park. I squeeze my eyes shut. It must have been a dream.
There wasn’t anyone chasing me. Or a scary demon creature with an eight-legged horse.
Even the guys didn’t feel real. After all, Wilder doesn’t pay attention to me.
And do I really remember Van being...protective? Yeah, I definitely made that up.
Someone bangs on the door to my room. “You’re going to be late for school, loser.”
Oh, yes. My foster brother, Carl, is always so helpful.
With a groan, I slam the button on my clock and stop the damn alarm from blaring. Then, with another loud groan, I finally stumble out of bed, praying I don’t fall over. My legs feel like they’re made out of jello--not even good jello, like red jello. More like disgusting lime or lemon.
Stumbling down the hall, I make it to the bathroom and feel a wave of gratitude when I find it empty. I brush my teeth in a sleepy haze. Then I grab my hairbrush, preparing to run it through the wild snarls that I call my hair. The brush slips unexpectedly through my soft strands like butter.
Since when is my hair soft? Usually I’d describe it to be more like a rat’s nest in the morning. Weird.
I glance in the mirror, and my own face surprises me. I’m still me, the same small upturned nose and brown eyes and the scar just under my eyebrow. But I look… prettier. My brown hair that I’ve always described as mousy has caramel highlights, and it’s smooth and shiny, hanging in loose curls at the ends. It looks like I tried this morning.
I push my hair back from my face, examining my lips, which look full and red, and the pink blush that accentuates the curve of my cheekbones. I rub my jaw, remembering the two little zits that decorated my face yesterday that I’m pretty sure came into existence because I drool in my sleep, but there aren’t any bumps under my fingertips.
I frown at my reflection. I should be happy that I look nice for once, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something weird going on. I still feel unsettled by my odd dreams.
I know I’m being crazy. Everyone has a good hair day now and then. Not me usually, but hell, it’s possible...
Someone bangs on the front door, but it barely registers in the back of my mind. It’s always the same people in the morning. Friends of the elementary-aged foster kids that live in this house too.
I go back to my room, dress, and grab my backpack. Glancing at my clock, I swear under my breath. I’m going to have to run if I have any chance of making it to school on time. And I need to make it to school on time. I have finals!
I’m halfway down the stairs when I realize the banging has started again. Isn’t anyone going to get that?
“Izzy, I think that’s for you!” My foster-mom sounds aggravated as she shouts from the kitchen.
For me? My ears strain, and for the first time I realize I don’t hear the noises of the younger kids. They must have already left for school. But then, who could it be?
I run the rest of the way, knowing better than to piss off my foster mom. From the moment the kids are out the door, that’s her time. And God help anyone who interrupts it.
When I swing the door open, I freeze. Aiden leans in the doorway, standing like this is the most normal thing in the world. In shock, my gaze runs over him from head to toe. He always looks good to me, with his ruffled, dark hair and his big jaw and the way he chews a toothpick absently, but today he looks especially perfect. His cheekbones are sharp beneath those lush-lashed, deep green eyes.
“Ride to school with me,” he says. “I want to talk.”
His arrogant words snap me out of my ‘stunned by his hottness’ stupor.
“Good morning to you too,” I say, an edge to my words.
Why does he always have to be so damn rude? He gets under my skin, and the worst part is that I always want to give him what he wants anyway. Would it hurt him to at least pretend to be nice to me?
“Yeah, good morning,” he says dryly. “So how about that ride?”
I sigh. It’s probably my only shot at getting to class on time, but this wasn’t at all how I planned this day to go. I’m already nervous enough about finals. The last thing I need is some sexy guy leaving me feeling wired and stressed.
“Fine. I guess.”
He catches my arm, pulling me onto the porch with him.
I turn back to close the door behind us, and when I turn back, he’s right there, so close to me that I almost bump into his chest. I look up into his face, my lips parting in surprise.
“You feeling okay?” he asks. “Anything...weird?”
“Besides this conversation?” I smile to ease the mood. Absently, I t
ug at the ends of my hair, feeling the curls sliding between my fingers. No, I’m not about to tell him that I woke up pretty this morning. It sounds stupid. “Are you feeling anything weird?”
He shakes his head, but his eyes are troubled. He inclines his head toward his car, parked in his driveway, and the two of us walk across the patchy grass. He heads to the driver’s side, then abruptly comes around the car and swings open the passenger side door.
I stop, staring at him.
“Well?” He sweeps his hand toward the car, the gesture imperious, but there’s a funny look in his eyes.
It’s definitely weird that Aiden just opened the door for me like we’re on a date.
Although any date that ended in homeroom would be a pretty sad one.
“Thanks.” I slip into the passenger seat before he closes the door. Aiden’s car smells good--actually, it smells like him, like his spicy cologne and the faint clove scent he carries on his skin--and the dark leather interior is scrupulously clean.
When he gets into the driver’s seat, a strange tension strains between us. I shift uncomfortably, trying to think of something to say to break the silence.
“Your car is nice.”
He stares at me for a second, and I get the impression I said the wrong thing.
“Nicest thing I own. Well, just about the only thing I own.” When he turns the key in the ignition, rock music blares out of the speakers, and I jump. His eyes flicker toward me as he hits the button, and the car’s suddenly quiet.
I expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. We pull out onto the road and head toward school, silence heavy between us.
“You’re not waiting for Reid?” I ask.
“He’s catching a ride in the geekmobile like usual, I’m sure,” he mutters.
The two of them used to be close, like you’d expect from twins. Aiden’s always been popular, with a dangerous edge and a quick grin. Reid is quiet and sensitive; Aiden was fiercely protective of him. When I moved to this town when we were nine, it took me the longest to get to know Reid. He wouldn’t talk to me. Then one morning before school—after a very long night in a very bad house—he sat down next to me, pushed his glasses up his nose with one finger, and told me jokes until I couldn’t catch my breath from laughing so hard. And that was that. We were friends.
Magic For Dummies: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (God Fire Reform School Book 1) Page 3