by Kate Martin
“I can feel it, Bri. I can feel your power.”
“No one will believe you’re me.”
“Oh, yes they will. For long enough at least. Why would they suspect otherwise? Look at me, Bri.”
Unable to see the point in such a small defiance, Bri obeyed.
Kai smiled, Bri’s blood still on his lips. “Enjoy your peace, brother.”
He stepped back, and the myst crept closer. Bri felt a sob rise in his throat and could do nothing to stop it. He heard Kai’s goodbye just as the myst closed in.
Traveling through the myst and out into the Mortal Realm was easier than Kai had expected. It was his brother’s blood, he was sure of it. Bri’s blood lent him Bri’s power, and so what Bri could do, he could as well.
More so, even. The added power of his labrynths allowed him to do things no one had dreamed of before. And so, burning with the extra power that surged through his veins, Kai let himself sink, departed the myst and his brother, and opened his eyes to a new world.
The bedroom was large, larger than anything he had for himself. The carpet was plush, soft beneath his feet. The windows let the dawn light pour in, casting warm slivers of gold across the room. The furniture—a desk with a chair, a table, and a large standing mirror—was carved of hard wood and polished till it shined. They didn’t have such things in Hell. Wood burned. Kai ran a finger along the edge of the desk, marveling at the smooth grain. Above the bed hung an eclectic tapestry that made little sense. Maybe Bri thought it was nice. Bri liked strange things. Books had been scattered everywhere—the floor, the desk, the edge of the bed. More than a few had been left open. Bri’s interest in books didn’t surprise him, but his thoughts left that path behind, caught up instead with the large four-poster bed that stood against the far wall. Lush, with blankets and pillows and a thick mattress, it was just the sort of thing they deserved. Lillianna had made sure to get him a proper bed for his first night in her care. It was his one indulgence in Hell. An indulgence that would soon accompany all his other desires. He felt a surge of jealously for his brother. Lillianna kept him in comfort in Hell, but it was still Hell. He wanted this room in the Mortal Realm. He would have it.
Yet all those things paled in comparison to what lay on the bed. On his back, head cradled by feather-filled pillows, Bri’s body looked as though asleep, a purple shawl tucked beneath his hand. Kai reached for his brother’s face and brushed back his hair. Bri was cool to the touch, but did not stir. Leaning close, Kai whispered in his ear, “Wait for me, Bri. I’ll be back for you soon.”
Until then, he had to hide the body. A labrynth would allow him to transport Bri back to Hell with him, but the time hadn’t come to leave. Taking a spare blanket from the foot of the bed, he wrapped his brother in it carefully, then lifted him and set him gently on the floor. The bed stood high enough to slide Bri under it. It would be good enough until he returned.
Finding the wardrobe, Kai grumbled at his brother’s choice of clothes, but changed nonetheless. He settled for a loose fitting white shirt and a pair of black trousers, not bothering with the rest since he had no intention of leaving the manor. The pants were a bit tight, he had more muscle than Bri, but they fit. He stood in front of the mirror, straightening up, and running a hand through his hair to muss it up.
Then he set about molding his face. He had spent the past months studying his brother’s every expression, the furrow in his brow, the twist to his lips when something worried him. He’d practiced them all, but now came the performance. The household had to believe he was Bri. The servants were no problem, they would hardly pay close enough attention, and most never came close enough, having been instructed to leave Bri alone. If Lillianna was correct, Carma would spare little of her attention unless he did something careless. The ex-demon, Picadilly, worried mostly about herself.
The real test would be Alec.
Screwing his face into something that mirrored Bri’s normally ill continence, Kai mentally nodded his satisfaction. Biting a finger, he swiped the blood along a labrynth he had carved onto the crook of his elbow and felt it flare to life.
Not far away, he heard the responding call of the box shard.
Easy.
Ensuring his skin and the marks carved there were properly covered, Kai went out through the door.
— CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR —
Alec awoke when the sun was already high in the sky, pouring light into his room until he had no choice but to acknowledge it. His sleep had been fitful at first, guilt-ridden from leaving Bri alone, but by dawn he had slipped into deep, unbroken slumber.
He had dreamt of Ariadne. He had dreamt of Marc.
Ariadne’s soft flesh, her silken hair, and the deftness of her fingers as they played along his skin. He marveled at how vividly he could still remember the feel of her lips, the sound of her voice, and the caress of her breath. Even after two thousand years, just the thought of her relaxed, smiling, and lying beside him was enough to set his desire aflame.
Marc was harder to remember. A happy child, despite the tragedy of their parents’ deaths when he was very young, Marc smiled through everything. Regretfully, Alec remembered taunting him for it at times. Don’t you ever stop smiling? he had asked one day. Not when you’re looking, Marc had replied cheerfully as ever.
The thought that his little brother lost that ever present smile when he turned his back haunted Alec after that.
Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Alec was grateful the dreams had contained themselves to Marc’s life and not his death. He traced the lines of the scars on his right arm, lines that just barely resembled a labrynth. Those scars, and the faded vine of Carma’s mark, had been meant to save his smiling brother.
He had been too late.
Apologies to Marc were a morning ritual. Along with a promise that he would do better this time. He would never be too late for Bri.
He splashed some water on his face and got dressed. The walk downstairs was something he rarely remembered, always taking the time to finish waking up, but he was fully alert by the time he reached the dining room and saw Dorothea sitting there with a series of plates laid out in front of her.
“What are you doing?” Despite the late hour, a selection of food was still present, and Alec helped himself without question.
Dorothea continued to pile food on her plates, not eating, just arranging. Her age had nearly evened out, though Alec thought she still appeared younger than her nine hundred years. She had gotten dressed, but her hair was undone, tangled, and falling everywhere. “Thinking.”
“About what?”
She cast down the roll she had been bouncing from plate to plate and regarded him with a highly exasperated look. “What a stupid question.”
“Nevermind then. I’m sorry.”
She made a disgusted noise, then went back to her work, grumbling things about idiocy, transparency, and ridiculous inquiries.
Alec left her alone and did his best to eat his meal in peace with the fire in the hearth warming his back.
Carma entered a moment later, her hair long and loose, and her expression a cool annoyance. “Odd child. Alec, do something about him.”
“About who?”
“Bri,” she said as though it should have been obvious. As if Alec had no other cares in the world.
Maybe he didn’t. “What about him?”
“He’s wandering the house, half dressed and eyes all glazed over.”
“He had a rough night. Leave him alone.”
Carma sat, though she took no food. “It’s unnerving the servants, and we don’t want them gossiping now, do we?”
The subtext there was loud and clear. With the burnings, they had to be extra careful. “I’ll talk to him after breakfast. If he’s walking around, he’s not lost in the myst. Maybe he’s just trying to clear his head.”
“Take care of it.”
He was about to mention that she had been the one to make the deal with Bri, that really it should h
ave been her responsibility, but in reality it was better left to him anyway. His grumpiness was due to a distinct lack of coffee. He kept quiet.
“Wrong!”
Alec and Carma both jumped when Dorothea suddenly flung one of the plates across the room.
“Wrong, wrong, wrong. It’s all wrong!” Each word carried with it another food-filled plate.
Alec dodged one that came for his head. “What’s wrong, Dorothea?”
“Something, something,” she mumbled, fingers twitching and her whole body fidgeting. Her gaze found the ceiling, and her eyes narrowed. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Flicking away a stray slice of bacon that clung to the edge of the table, Alec kept his voice calm. When Dorothea got this way, it was best to ride it out cautiously. “Do you want me to look into it? Tell me what it is.”
“No. No. I will do it myself. Too soon to tell.” She sat back down and resumed her sorting of the food that now littered the table. “Ask me again later.”
Carma sighed, removed a bit of egg from her shoulder and leaned back in her chair. “Apparently everyone is extra odd today.”
“So it would seem. And what will you be offering us in that arena?”
“Oh, ha ha. You’re not always so charming, Alec.”
“How I wish that were true.” He finished his breakfast without another word, accompanied only by the sounds of Dorothea’s mutterings and Carma’s silent impatience.
Pointedly clearing his plate of every crumb, Alec stood and spared her not so much as a glance. “I’m going now.”
“How good of you.”
Her annoyed tone did not irritate him as he left the dining room and went off in search of Bri. He bumped into Mrs. McCallahan as he reached the second floor and asked if she had seen him.
“I have, actually. Just a moment ago. He was winding his way down the south corridor.”
“There’s nothing down that way but Carma’s rooms.”
She shook her head in a sign of her mutual confusion. “He seems… off today. When I spoke to him he sounded far away, like he was thinking about something else. Maybe he actually is somewhere else. I don’t know him quite as well as you do, and was coming to find you when you found me. I think perhaps you should get him back to bed.”
“I’ll take care of it. Thank you.”
She gave him a worried smile as he left. The south corridor of the manor was the darkest, with the fewest windows and the most curtains. Carma preferred the dark when she was alone, and kept them drawn at the brightest part of the day. As a result, the hall was dimly lit by only a few lamps when Alec reached it. The paintings and other décor on the walls were hard to see, but he could see the open door just fine.
It was Carma’s bedroom, a room he knew well in the dark. Upon entering, there was a chair to the right beside the blazing fireplace, a wardrobe along the far wall, a vanity beside the window, and a chest at the bottom of the oversized bed that stood at the center of the room. Nothing but the fire burned, bringing an uneven light, but Alec could navigate his way with what it provided.
Bri was on the far side of the room, opposite the bed, paging through books and boxes that lined a large bookshelf Alec wasn’t sure why Carma owned. “Bri?”
Bri startled. Books fell. A box tumbled, landing on the floor open and upside down. Clutching his heart, Bri breathed and turned to face him. “Alec. Gods, I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Not all that unusual. “What are you doing in here?”
“Oh, I—well, I thought I saw something come in here.”
“Something?”
“Yes, like a…a creature, or maybe just a light.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“I swear,” Bri assured him.
Alec wasn’t convinced. There was too much fidgeting, too much eye movement. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Have you eaten yet?”
“I’m not hungry. You go. I’ll just clean up and then I’ll leave. There’s clearly nothing here.” He sounded disappointed.
Alec propped himself against the doorjamb. Everyone was right. Something was wrong. “I’ll wait for you.”
Though looking a bit perturbed by that, Bri bent down and gathered the books first, replacing them on the shelf. When he lifted the box from the floor, he hesitated.
“Something wrong?” Alec asked.
“What? No. No.” Bri stood and set the box back in its place. “Just blanked out for a moment, I suppose.” He turned and smiled.
Not Bri’s smile.
Alec grabbed him the moment he reached the door, checking for the fever that could explain the odd behavior. Bri jerked away, but he was cool and normal to the touch.
“I feel fine, Alec. Really.” He headed down the hall.
Alec followed, shutting Carma’s door tight behind him. “I wonder about that,” he said. “You don’t seem fine.”
“I probably need more sleep. Maybe I should go back to bed.” He had one hand fisted at his side.
“What about the nightmares?”
“I’ll deal with them. I always do.”
Not right. Bri never slept alone when the nightmares were bad. He hated to have to ask Alec to sit with him, but he did ask. Maybe not with words, but with hesitations and quick glances. There was no asking now.
When they reached Bri’s door, Bri didn’t go directly inside. He waited, watching Alec as if to see if he would leave. Alec’s worry instinct had become so thick it threatened to choke him. “You tell me what’s wrong, right now.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Alec.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, you should. I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that.” He grabbed the handle on his door. “I’ll get some sleep and I’ll be fine.”
Alec gestured to the fist at his side. “What’s in your hand?”
“My hand?”
“Yes. Your hand.”
Bri looked at his hand on the door. “A handle?”
Definitely not Bri. Alec reached for him, grabbing the fist and pulling it close so he could see. Bri struggled and pulled back, but Alec was stronger, though the strength Bri exhibited surprised him. He never got around to opening that fist. He saw all he needed on the wrist. No vine, no demon’s mark.
Etched labrynths drawn into the skin as scars.
Alec’s grip tightened around the not-so-delicate wrist. “You’re not Bri.”
The boy wearing Bri’s face smiled with a twisted madness that could never have come across Bri’s lips. “I knew you’d be the one to figure it out. But you’re too late. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m done here.”
“Who are you? Where’s Bri?”
The doppelgänger shook its head. “I’ll never tell.”
Alec barely registered that the boy reached for one of the labrynths on his arm. He grabbed for that free hand, maintaining his hold on the other, but the imposter Bri kicked at his knees and tugged back on his arms, causing them both to tumble to the floor. Laughing, the boy scrambled to his feet and took off down the hall. Alec cursed, and hollered for the others.
Brannick was the first to appear, standing at the top of the staircase like a dark giant. The scene clearly confused him—Alec chasing Bri down the hall—but he managed to catch the boy as he attempted to streak by.
“Don’t let him get away!” Alec’s heart pounded in his throat. He felt the crackle of power on the air an instant before it surged and exploded. Brannick and the staircase disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The explosion rocked the manor, and Alec heard cries of fear from the servants. Laughter rang out through the open hall, followed by the patter of feet across solid wood floors. The imposter had made it downstairs.
Reaching into that dark place he hated, Alec drew the power of Hell into his veins, steadied his muscles, his resolve, and hurdled himself over the rail, landing lithely on
the balls of his feet on the floor below.
“Carma!”
She appeared beside him. “What the hell is going on?”
“It’s not Bri.”
Another explosion rocked the foundation of the manor. More smoke poured out of the dining room, and they both rushed into the dark cloud. Once inside, they heard the sounds of a struggle, but saw nothing. The faintly familiar tingle of Dorothea’s power told Alec she was nearby.
“Dorothea, where are you?”
“Here, boy.” She sounded irritated. The smoke cleared in a gust, sweeping upwards and out into the hallway, leaving the dining room clear. The table had been upturned, laid flat on the floor with its legs reaching towards the ceiling. The plates Dorothea had stacked high with food were scattered about, the rolls, meats, eggs, and other helpings spread out between them. They formed a labrynth with the table, sparking and steaming. On the upturned table was the doppelgänger, scorched and snarling, sprawled as though he had been dropped from a great height. His shirt hung tattered and torn, exposing much of his back and chest. The sheer number of labrynths scribed into his flesh was shocking, and the thick scars that ran the length of his wing bones spoke of great pain once suffered.
“That was clever, snatching me out of my own spell like that,” he said to Dorothea, awkwardly working his way to a sitting position. “I didn’t know it could be done.”
“You don’t know everything, child.”
“I know you’re the one who stole the power from my source. I can smell it on you.”
“And I smelled you the moment you entered this house. Just didn’t know what I was smelling.” They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, sizing each other up. Alec’s patience had just run thin when Dorothea stepped forward, bare feet padding across the table until she was face-to-face with the imposter. “Clever girl, your mother. Tricky, tricky. What did you come here for?”
“You can’t figure that out yourself? Better hurry up. You won’t be able to hold me here for long.”
Alec moved up as close as he dared, not crossing the oddly built labrynth that encompassed the two witches. “Where is Bri?”