Unholy Sundering

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Unholy Sundering Page 14

by DeAnna Browne


  Darion sat back in the chair. “I wish I had answers, but I don’t.”

  That scared her most of all. The unknown was the hardest to battle. Becca climbed on the foot of Elizabeth’s bed. Becca and Darion watched Liz silently until Doc came back with Andre and Jemi.

  Great. She hadn’t had the chance to apologize to Jemi for what happened before. People don’t forget getting knocked out, and by Jemi’s glare, it was fresh in her memory.

  “Doc said Elizabeth had an episode,” Andre said.

  “That’s a nice way to put it,” Becca replied. “More like the hounds of hell were after her.”

  Andre nodded to Jemi, and she grabbed a chair and sat by Elizabeth’s head.

  “What’s she going to do?” Alarms went off in Becca’s mind at a variety of magical spells that could hurt her sister, all in the name of subduing her.

  “I’m not going to bash her in the head, if that’s what you’re asking.” Jemi gave a sickly smile and placed her hands on Elizabeth’s scalp.

  “She’s searching her mind,” Andre explained. “It shouldn’t hurt.”

  “Shouldn’t” didn’t sound good. Trying to make peace with Jemi, Becca turned. “Look, Jemi, I’m sorry about that...”

  The words fell on empty ears as Jemi’s had already tuned her out.

  No one spoke for a minute, waiting for Jemi. She finally opened her eyes.

  “They were nightmares,” she explained. “And with being cooped up with a demon for a few months, they’re pretty bad. She’s in there, but too exhausted to wake up. Like coma victims, she put herself into a guarded status to protect herself.”

  “We’ll have to wait,” Andre explained. “Doc—”

  “Becca is connected to her subconsciously,” Darion offered. “She could reach her if she knew how.”

  Everyone turned to Becca for confirmation.

  She nodded. “Through our dreams.”

  Andre turned to his second-in-command. “Jemi—”

  “No,” Jemi said. “That girl knocked me out and left me to get devoured by Bael. I don’t care if she makes nice with her sister.”

  “What?” Dread hung in Becca’s stomach.

  Andre turned to her. “Becca, you will be punished for your behavior. It’s not okay to hurt others here. You will be assigned extra chores until I say so.”

  Becca nodded. The chores didn’t bother her. She probably deserved them.

  He continued, “As far as your training, your powers are similar to Jemi’s. Where she can delve into people’s mind, your powers can influence others, like the guard the other night. Jemi would be an invaluable teacher.”

  “I’m not going to train her. Lance is good enough.” Jemi stood, sticking out her chin defiantly, her hair sticking up like a pixie. A very angry pixie.

  It was the only time Becca had ever seen her contradict Andre.

  “Maybe.” Andre rubbed his bald head. Becca had seen that look of exasperation a time or two on her old boss, Nikko’s, face. “Why don’t you start with a scan of these two, and then I’ll let you decide.”

  The word “scan” sank heavy and cold in the pit of Becca’s stomach. She remembered the last time Jemi scanned her.

  “What are you talking about? A scan?” Darion stood facing Andre.

  “I don’t want her in my head,” Becca protested. Jemi’s anger radiated off of her, not that Becca blamed her, but she wasn’t about to let her poke around in her mind.

  “The attack on the community, the men you fought, it wasn’t accidental,” Andre explained. “I have wards to deter many. They broke them down and hid their magic from me. They had to have inside help. Someone sent them, and I want to know who.”

  “Doesn’t help that one of them was your friend, and he got away,” Jemi said.

  “He’s not a friend,” Becca said and turned to Andre. “So this is how you do it? Instead of requiring blood oaths, you invade everyone’s privacy constantly?”

  “A little price to pay for safety.”

  “But a price, nevertheless.” Becca narrowed her eyes.

  “Everyone will be evaluated by Jemi. Becca, you can stay in here with your sister until the beds are needed by Doc. But I want you back working with Lance as soon as possible.” Andre strode out.

  The idea of letting Jemi get in Becca’s mind made her insides turn cold. There definitely was a price.

  CHAPTER 23

  C aleb left from visiting Becca in the med unit, and for the first time in days, he felt hope. Granted, his anger still simmered that she would be careless enough to almost kill herself without regard for him or Darion. But Caleb had known Becca since childhood, so her behavior should really stop surprising him at this point.

  At least she’d survived. Every day she improved, his anger lessened. Her color had finally returned since her battle with Bael. Elizabeth was still unconscious, but there hadn’t been a bad episode for days now. Even Jemi said things in Liz’s mind were settling down.

  Even though Andre, Leon, and many others were seething mad at the danger of Becca’s actions, they still cared for Becca and Liz like family. After months on the run, things were finally coming around for them.

  He headed down to get something for lunch. He was starting to believe that maybe things could work out here.

  The energy inside the cafeteria was palpable. Pine cones and sprigs of evergreen hung on the cave walls. People placed strands of popcorn on a large pine tree in the center of the room, while others tied on red ribbons. A child stole a strand of popcorn and ran away in delight. The noise of children playing, others talking, some even humming a tune, created a blissful racket.

  It was Christmas. Something Caleb thought he’d never see again like this. Memories of his mother rushed back. She would have loved it here, with the tree and decorations, and everyone would have loved her songs and sugar cookies. After weeks of fighting it, he realized this maybe was the closest thing to family he’d ever find.

  “Merry Christmas.” Nikki appeared next to him, her hand extended with a brown bag. “A peace offering.”

  “There’s no need.” There had been an awkwardness between them for several days, and it probably had a bit to do with Becca.

  “Take it, stupid.” Nikki smiled.

  He opened the bag, and inside was an orange. A bright, beautiful orange. He brought it close to his nose and inhaled.

  “You remembered.” The citrus smell brought back a flood of memories, all happy ones. “Thank you.”

  “My dad gets one for everyone in the community.” She folded the brown bag back together. “Again, I’m sorry. I know you care for Becca. I …”

  “We’re just friends, Becca and I.” A lot of history lay between Becca and himself, but he knew it was purely platonic. After spending over a month on the run with Darion and Becca, that much was obvious.

  “No. It’s more than that. I think I was jealous of her relationship with you.” A flush colored her dark skin. “But don’t worry. I’m good now. You don’t have to worry.”

  Maybe it was the lightness in his heart, the memories of his mom, or the Christmas spirit, but he couldn’t lie to her. He kept his eyes on the tree in front of him. “I’m the one that should apologize. You’re not the only one that feels something between us, but I’m not sure I’m ready for it to be. Does that make sense?” He wasn’t sure it made sense to him. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Of course.” Keeping her gaze straight ahead as well, she didn’t give anything away.

  He decided to change the subject. “Do you believe in Christmas?”

  “What do you mean? The old white guy breaking into people’s houses to deliver presents, or the young mother who claims to be a virgin?”

  He couldn’t help but laugh by her take on things. “Not a believer, then, I take it.”

  “My mom died when I was young, and I was raised in a cave by my father. Call me a skeptic.”

  “It’s about hope,” he explained.


  “I guess I could see that. People want miracles or things to happen without having to work for them.”

  “Boy, you are a skeptic.”

  She didn’t seem upset at the conversation though. “Why do you believe?”

  “Because I know what it’s like not to.” He remembered the day he found his parents dead. The darkness and pain as his world had been ripped from him. “Finding this place, knowing you, it gives me hope. And I don’t care if Santa’s a fraud. I want to hope, to strive for something greater than me. This place does that. It inspires me. Maybe there is more to life than the madness outside these walls.”

  “So you’re thinking of sticking around?” She turned towards him, the smell of oranges clinging to her.

  He wasn’t sure what was next for him, but he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. “Well, if I left, who would Leon torture?”

  The soft lines of her lips curled up into a beautiful smile. “True.”

  Becca sat near the top of her sister’s bed, her hands placed on Liz’s smooth blonde hair. She poured what power she had left into waking Liz up. Becca caught glimpses of Liz’s dreams, similar to the ones that were haunting her at night—darkness, freezing barren landscapes, and disturbing voices. Despite the visions, nothing indicated that Liz was close to waking up. Becca slouched back in the chair, exhausted and frustrated with the lack of results.

  “You need a break. Come on.” Darion shuffled a deck of cards on the bed next to her.

  “I know.” She’d been working on getting through to Liz all afternoon.

  “You don’t have the strength to do much good right now. And it isn’t a matter of magic,” Darion explained. “I tried to wake you when you were out. Andre and Jemi tried to wake you, but it didn’t work.. Liz needs rest. Her mind needs to recover at its own pace. Otherwise, she might start rambling about Caleb or something.”

  “You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?” She glared at him.

  “Not likely. Come on. Just play a hand.” Darion dealt out the cards.

  “If I can stay awake, I’ll kick your butt.” As tired as she was, she thought a distraction may be what she needed.

  Doc sat at his desk and read an old western, not acting as though he were disturbed by them. She climbed on the white bed, folded her legs underneath her, and waited for Darion to finish dealing.

  “What game are we playing? Poker?”

  “Sure, what ya’ betting?” He kept a straight face, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.

  “How about an extra ration for the soap back in my bunk?”

  “I already have soap.”

  “I may have some coins from the last city.”

  “Not interested.” His intense gaze never left her eyes.

  Heat burned her cheeks. “I’m not interested in strip poker if that’s what you’re inferring. ‘Cause we’d have to invite Doc to play, out of courtesy of course, and I’m not dying to see what color underwear he wears.”

  “What about my underwear?” Doc peered over the top of his book.

  “Becca wants to see you in it.” Darion brought up the cards in his hands.

  Becca grabbed the closest pillow to throw at him. “Nothing, Doc, only Darion acting juvenile.”

  “Glad to hear it. Life is getting way too serious lately.” He lifted his book back up. “By the way, they’re green boxers if you’re curious.”

  “Nope. Not curious at all.” Becca’s face burned with embarrassment as she glared at Darion. “Just deal the cards.”

  “I can’t believe you think so little of my moral standing.” Darion dealt, the edges of his mouth turning up.

  He was doing this for her, she realized. Distracted her, embarrassed her, and made her smile.

  “Thanks,” she told him.

  He didn’t ask for what.

  Becca killed him in the first hand, and he demanded a rematch. By midway through the second hand, they had another visitor. Navina. She wore a tall green hat that kept slipping into her eyes.

  “Hey, Navina,” Becca welcomed. “Starting a new fashion style?”

  “No. I’m an elf,” she huffed. “Ya’ know, Christmas and all today.”

  “Christmas?” Becca knew the holiday was approaching but hadn’t kept track of the days lately.

  “Yeah. Christmas. Don’t you celebrate it?”

  “When I was a kid.” There wasn’t much in the way of Christmas the past few years. She usually worked like every other day. “Guess I didn’t realize what day it was. Why didn’t you guys say anything?” Becca looked to Doc and Darion.

  “Didn’t seem like a great day to celebrate Christmas,” Darion answered, glancing at Elizabeth.

  “I brought you presents from Andre,” Navina piped up.

  “Yeah? Anything good?”

  “You’ll have to open it.” She dropped a brown package on Becca’s lap.

  “Thanks.” Becca opened the simple brown sack and retrieved an orange. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten one. She pressed it to her nose, and the clean, sweet smell filled her senses. Looking up, Darion was looking at his orange, his face lighting up with a grin. Maybe this really was Christmas after all.

  “Thanks, Navina. They’re great,” he told the girl. “Want to play a game with us?”

  “Nah, dinner is to start soon, then singing and hot chocolate. Are you guys coming?”

  Becca looked at her sister, still prone in bed. Now she understood why Darion didn’t tell her. She couldn’t go enjoy herself while her sister was here, alone. “I’m not feeling quite up to that yet.”

  Navina’s face fell a little. “Okay.”

  “I’ll head down with you,” Doc said. “I’ll get a bite, then bring some back for you two.”

  “No rush. Enjoy yourself.” She didn’t want to ruin his night.

  “If you start to starve or get bored, there are some nuts in the desk drawer.” He shrugged on his jacket. “Better than strip poker in the winter.” He winked at Becca.

  “Oh, shut up.” Becca looked for something to throw at Doc, but he was already heading out the door.

  He held the door open for Navina as she asked, “What’s strip poker?”

  Becca and Darion both struggled to contain their laughter.

  Doc quickly turned sheepish. “Nothing,” he said, following the girl out the door.

  “Poor Doc,” Darion said.

  “Wait till her mom hears,” she said, imagining the scene. She shifted on the bed and accidentally knocked the cards off. They scattered on the floor.

  “I’ll get it.” He slid off and gathered up the cards.

  She got off the bed, feeling guilty that he was cleaning up her mess. “I’m sorry. I can help.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m all done.” He stood up, their faces mere inches apart.

  Quiet filled the room as they realized, probably simultaneously, that Doc was gone. She watched Darion’s features, so sharp and serious these past weeks, soften. The worry and ache absent.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh again.” He reached for her hand and gently touched it. “I wasn’t sure if I would ever hear that again.”

  “Me either.” His touch settled her spirit and lit her nerve endings on fire.

  “You scared me good back there, Becca.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He pulled back slightly. “You’re not.” Before she could argue, he asked, “Would you do it again?”

  She swallowed. “Yes, I would.”

  “Then no more sorrys. Even if you scared the hell out of me, I understand why you did it.”

  “Wait.” She struggled to put into words how she felt. He’d gone to hell and back for her, and even though his past involvement with the coven had troubled her for some time, she was ready to move forward with him. Together.

  “What’s wrong?” He glanced at Liz.

  She shook her head, trying to clear her head. “Nothing. I’m just …”

  “It’s okay.” He nodded, the w
orried look disappearing from his face. He stepped closer, his body encompassing her view, her world, her everything. His touch still burned on her hand. He leaned towards her, slowly closing the distance between them.

  As if irony was smiling at their timing, a frail voice spoke from behind. One that Becca would recognize anywhere and made her heart swell. Elizabeth. “Rebecca? Rebecca?”

  CHAPTER 24

  P eter stayed staring at the cheap bathroom sink longer than he should have. He didn’t dare look in the scratched-up mirror; he quit that habit long ago. Bent over, he focused on his breath, trying to ignore the pain running up and down his arms as he waited for his pills to kick in. He couldn’t help the anger that crept through him, highlighting his pain.

  He wanted to go back north and continue Nevada’s treatments to heal his body. Since his last treatment, his hair had finally started growing back and now hit the top of his ears. If only it was long enough to hide his scars.

  Instead, he was stuck down in this hell hole, some run down school in the city, working with a bunch of rejects. Arturo may be the head of this coven, but he was a drunk and ran a sloppy ship. Probably the reason why a rebel base was able to grow so large right under his nose.

  The roughly twenty wizards Arturo gave him to work with, to train for an attack, didn’t understand the meaning of work.

  After another couple minutes, Peter’s pills finally dulled the pain to the constant droning he was used to. He pulled on his hood, the smooth black fabric dropping over his face.

  He headed to the gymnasium, his head held high. The gray metal doors slammed open as he walked into the large room. No one dared to stare, not after the first guy had. The walls were an aged white, almost yellow in color with a large cat painted on one wall. The Go Cougars painted on the other wall was barely visible.

  Peter whistled loudly. “Line up,” he hollered.

  The men, who were playing basketball and lifting weights, paused and slowly started to move. Anger fueled Peter’s magic. He pushed a simple spell out into the crowd that would cause pain. A weight clanged to the floor as the noises of surprise and agony echoed throughout the gymnasium. Several men took a knee. Two men stood strong, eyes trained on Peter. At least they’re not all useless.

 

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