by Skyler Andra
Some things cannot be stood, and a sick part of me was pleased to see the effect I’d had on him. For someone so empty, so devoid of love, he was unable to handle everything I had gifted him.
A small part of me deep inside knew what I was playing with was monstrous, no matter what they had done to me. What was this power turning me into? Someone no better than a mighty god. That part couldn’t stand my actions.
There was another part of me that demurred. If you had told me I could fuck up all of the people who had ever hurt me or hurt someone whom I cared about this badly, I would have done it right away. Yes, please, and sign up for more.
My stomach tightened as I glanced around the room at the chaos I’d struck. Was it wrong of me to wield this power like this? To abuse people as if I were no better than them? As if I were one of them? Despite my misgivings, and my sick admiration for what I’d done, something within me told me I was almost done, and I could not leave until I’d fixed it.
My gaze flew to the last person in the room unaffected by my manipulations.
Dr. Victors. Still cowering in the corner. Praying to be exact. Imploring God for me to stop. It wasn’t going to do her much good when I was the only one in the room.
Shaking loose of the cords in my possession, I stepped closer, hovering over her.
The long, red string extending from her shriveled with fear at my approach. I followed it with only the vaguest interest to an addiction to gambling, which had led here in the first place. The onto a small house in L.A, where a man about her age worked at a computer desk. For a doctor, I was surprised to find they were living in a shoebox of a house in a scummy little neighborhood. No wonder she had taken this job. To pay off all her debts. But the man didn’t care. He stared at a laptop screen that gleamed in the darkness, and his lean hands typed line after line into the Word document. His eyes sparked with every word flowing from him as he constructed the world within his mind on the page. I considered messing with his for a moment.
“Please,” the doctor said, sniveling and waving her raised palms at me. “Please, please, I didn’t want to do any of this.”
“But you did,” I replied. “You went along with it. You didn’t stop it.”
The doctor wiped snot from her nose. “To stop them from doing worse. Please, you don’t understand…”
No, the problem was that I did understand. All too well. A twisted and messed-up fate had led her to do some evil things for survival. Fear and paranoia had left her with no idea how to get away from the group she’d mistakenly joined. Everything was all a muddle for her. Maybe phone sex kept me safe from the wolf at the door, but what if things were a little different? I didn’t like to have too many illusions about myself.
Finally, I granted her mercy, knowing she was the only one of the rotten group to have protested against Dartmoor’s will. “Get out of here.”
The doctor didn’t bother to thank me and stumbled to her feet, dashing for the door.
Before she got all the way out, I called to her, “He doesn’t love you as much as he loves that damned book of his. Best think about what that means.”
For a moment, she hesitated. Her wild eyes met mine, and she chewed her lips. Something in my words had struck a chord within her. Heart-piercing betrayal stirred inside her at realizing the truth in my words. I felt it with all the might of my godly powers. Refusing to stick around any longer than necessary, she was gone, ruminating on my warning and what to do about it and the mess she was trapped in. When she returned home, she was determined to confront him about it and heap upon him an ultimatum: choose her or the book.
In an instant, I went to Byron’s side, finding his bound hand and linking my fingers with his.
“Locke?” His eyes were wide with confusion and terror. “What the hell?”
I smoothed his wet forehead, brushing his damp hair from his face. “Shhh. I’m sorry for dragging you into this. Let me get you off this table and away from here.”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to save you,” he said, trying to make light of the situation as I removed the straps shackling him to the board.
“What did you do to them?” he asked, sitting up, rubbing his chafed and bruised wrists.
I scratched at my throat as if I wore a shirt that was too tight. Out of respect for Byron, I deliberately did not use my godly sight on him since he didn’t deserve this. He had already been harmed once today. Let him keep some kind of privacy if I could safeguard it for him.
“What do you mean?” I asked, unable to look at him.
“Your eyes,” he said. “They glowed silver.”
Damn. Not much I could say to get out of that one. Instinctively, my hand raised to touch my face, but I pulled away. There was no point in dancing around this if Byron had witnessed me utilize my powers.
“What they deserved,” I growled, my gaze panning the room at the madness continuing around us.
“Why didn’t it affect me?” he asked, stumbling as he got to his feet.
He jerked away from me when I leaned into to help him. Not out of fear, but confusion and unease at what might happen if he touched me.
“I won’t hurt you,” I said, lifting his hand over my shoulder.
“Let’s get out of here, Locke.”
No need to tell me twice.
Byron limped and leaned heavily against me. At his height, he was far heavier than I, and I pulled on all my strength to get him to the door.
A strange heat rolled down the corridor outside. Blasts tore into the hallway outside. Those men I had altered screamed.
Rane was now inside the building. Something inside me wanted to go out and meet him. But another part of me tensed, preparing to challenge him. In his raging state, he was unrestrained and I might not be able to reason with him.
I put myself between the door and Byron, refusing to let him get hurt again. I had already done this much to keep him safe. Everything else would be easy by comparison. Despite this, I was calm. There was nothing else to worry about besides protecting Byron, getting us out of here. Rane could handle himself by the sounds of it.
And then of course, it all went sideways again when the avatar of Ares entered.
Rane’s nostrils flared and his body trembled with uncontained rage. Burn marks singed his skin and there was soot smeared all over him. Tatters remained of his shirt, exposing his hard chest. Blood dripped down him from the bullet wounds riddling his body. Scars formed over his wounds, leaving pure white streaks as he recovered. God, he looked like hell.
“Rane?” I gasped, a sourness curdling in my stomach.
Why couldn’t fucking Ares make him invulnerable? Why couldn’t he just make the bullets bounce off of him instead of tearing into his flesh? Why the hell did he have to suffer like this?
My anger at Ares transferred to Rane when I recalled what he’d done to me. The bastard had tricked me, lied to me, and had been ready to use force if he’d had to get me wherever he needed me to go.
He crossed to me, drawing me close so that he, Byron, and I were in a weird three-way hug. None of that mattered right now. With Rane so near, with the smell of his inner fire, I cried out at the sheer heat of him. That didn’t stop me from opening my mouth and letting him kiss me. This wasn’t some kind of sweet lovey-dovey let’s-make-up kiss. No, it was raw, practically fucking while standing up, and I wanted to consume him just as he would consume me. Through our kiss, I absorbed the molten terror of the god that gave him his powers. Rage, war, and the carnage Rane had wreaked to get to me. Desperation to save me had made him this ferocious, and now, my kiss brought him back down to sanity.
We might have kept kissing forever, but something pulled me away first. A hand that wrenched me by the shoulders, dragging me backward, clutching me to his hard chest.
“Get away from her,” Byron growled.
For the briefest of moments, I’d forgotten all about him.
Flames licked along Rane’s shoulders and his muscle twitched.
Byron clutched me even tighter. Somewhere inside of me, I detected something change in him, as if something had been activated.
Crap. Something warned me of an epic showdown about to transpire.
Chapter 24
Bright light, like a stage lamp, shone from behind me, burning my back. Byron’s grip on me released, and I spun around, finding him tumbling to the ground. A sharp cry of surprise expelled from him. Then he glanced up with a murderous look in his eyes directed at Rane.
Rane charged forward, seizing me, practically flinging me out of the way.
“Get behind the door,” he ordered.
“No.” I yanked free of his hold. “You’re not fighting over me.”
I was almost ready to wage battle with Rane myself when a strange wind blew hard through the room. Hard enough to almost lift me off my feet and to send my hair whipping around my face. It roared in the space, along with the noise of a great flapping of wings, as if some enormous bird had come to roost just above us.
“I don’t know who it is!” Rane shouted, holding out his arm, his gaze jumping from me to Byron.
What was Rane talking about? It’s Byron, I wanted to say. He’s my friend, my best friend. I love him. He’s taken care of me practically since the day we met. It’s Byron, and don’t you touch him, don’t you dare. But I couldn’t find the words in my dry throat.
Flames licked at Rane’s fist, turning into a glowing hot shield. A long sword materialized in his hand, which he sliced through the air and slammed into the ground.
Byron growled. Bronze crawled over his face, shaping into a war helmet. That same metal formed armor over his chest, shoulders, forearms, and legs. A glowing golden owl flapped above his shoulder. His eyes glowed a pure and gorgeous silver.
Oh god. What was happening to him? Was he an avatar too?
Rane lifted his sword over his shoulder.
“No,” I screeched.
Ares’ avatar brought his sword down hard on Byron’s arm brace. A shield materialized in Byron’s fist, which he swung, striking Rane in the side. He grunted and stumbled backwards.
“I said, get out of here!” he shouted at me.
“No.” I moved forward without any fear for my life.
This time I examined the cords coming from their bodies. Red, stained with dark patches. Passion smeared by jealousy. Bitterness over me. The most ugly of love’s opposite emotions. Dammit. My power had interfered with the two of them despite my best efforts to leave Byron unharmed.
Hands shaking, I gripped their cords, returning them to a healthy ebbing crimson. When the guys clutched their own heads, groaning as if they had a bad hangover, I dropped their cords and backed away.
What had I done? Using my power had unintended consequences. I’d wanted to save everyone, not make them mad, bashing their heads, tearing out their hair, or fighting each other. Who else might I hurt when deploying these abilities? My nerves broke and my legs wobbled, threatening to collapse beneath me. I didn’t know what I was doing. Didn’t know how best to use my powers, and I no longer wanted this responsibility. Alarmed at the devastation I’d wreaked, I ran from the room.
Despite my attraction to Rane, he could handle himself quite fine, as the effort to bust in and save me proved.
Byron, well, he’d done fine without me, going on to become a professor at a university. Now I was convinced that being with him just brought him danger and bad memories. Perhaps I’d fooled myself into thinking we could be more than friends.
Outside in the hall, I faltered, discovering burned and bleeding bodies sprawled like broken toys. I backed into the wall, clasping my hands over my mouth.
Fucking Rane! What had he done?
For a few moments, I closed my eyes. Until I heard him shout my name. A bolt of electricity thundered through me and I took off. Panic coursed through me as I tiptoed over corpses, refusing to look at their faces or view their decaying cords. Holding my breath, I picked my way around the rubble of crumbled walls, destroyed furniture, and exploded doors.
God, what a mess.
Rane had brought everything down to get to me, just like he’d promised me. I reminded myself that he hadn’t intended to kill all these people. He’d done it to save me. To prevent my powers from falling into the hands of the wrong people. Evil people like Dartmoor, who intended to abuse my powers for their own gains.
A few minutes later, I made my way back to what looked like the entrance of the golf club, where I shoved open the large, grand doors. Unsteady legs carried me into the burning desert sun. I blundered, not knowing where I was going or what I intended to do next.
How the heck was I going to get out of here? I still didn’t have my wallet or license. If the police pulled me over, I’d have to use my sarcastic charm or manipulate them with my powers. The latter of which I dreaded doing after what I’d left behind.
Maybe I’d just try my luck with walking through the stretch of desert. Then burn up and vanish in a wisp of smoke. I was ready to do either if it meant I could get away from all of this. I scanned in either direction, spotting only the desert, as promised by Dartmoor. The notion of wandering in the hot sand, perishing there, made me feel dizzy and disoriented.
Damn my shit sense of direction. I couldn’t tell east from west. North from south.
Shielding my face from the hot glare above, I stumbled forward, heading away from the angle of the blazing sun.
Tires screeched, and a vehicle halted to my right. Dazed, I looked up and realized that a large SUV had stopped just inches from my body. While other thoughts had occupied my mind, I hadn’t been paying attention to where I’d been going. I hadn’t even heard the engine.
I met Dr. Victors’ eyes behind the windshield. Tears coursed down her face, and her lips had been bitten bloody. White knuckles spoke of how hard she clutched the steering wheel.
It only took me a few moments to make my decision. I got around the wide bumper of the car, approaching the side window.
The doctor’s hands shook as she lowered the window.
“Got room for me?” I asked her.
Without a word, she gave me a sharp nod.
Pain stabbed at my chest. It felt like something in me broke as I opened the door and hauled myself inside. New car smell hit me. Along with that disgusting scent produced by those rotten car air fresheners.
“Where to?” Dr. Victors asked, her voice just as broken as I felt.
I leaned my head against the headrest, staring out the window. “Wherever you’re going.”
In all honesty, I had no idea why the doctor had let me in. She could have easily driven away and left me screaming in the wreckage. Maybe she was too scared of what I might do if she denied me. Maybe she wanted to make some kind of amends for what she’d done. The company she’d kept. It didn’t matter.
Rane burst out of the country club and shouted my name again.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” I asked harshly, desiring to get the hell out of there before the god on earth stopped me. “Drive.”
Dr. Victors did as ordered, peeling out of the compound as if the devil were on our heels.
I glanced in the rearview, watching Rane hang his head, then kick a bit of smashed wood. Clutching my stomach tightly, I broke into sobs, letting my remorse overcome me.
I’m so sorry, Byron.
***
So that was it.
Dr. Victors drove for about four hours after we left the compound. Silence gripped the car since neither of us felt like talking after all the shit that had gone down. My powers also told me she still reflected over what I’d said about her partner. She tortured herself with what she’d say when she returned home. Eventually, she got the shakes, and her eyes turned glassy with tears, and I took over. It was nice to feel the hum of the SUV beneath my fingertips. I drove until the sky turned blue, and then black, and then it bloomed into thousands of stars.
They reminded me too much of Rane when he’d introduced me to Ares. I couldn’t
afford to think of Rane or Byron right now, not if I wanted to stay sane in any way, shape, or form. It took all my effort to shove the thought of them aside. Perhaps I should pass the time talking with Dr. Victors. Try to figure out who Dartmoor worked for. Why they were after me, what the hell they were doing, and whether they would be back at some point. But I’d come through hell and back, and I didn’t want to talk to her at all.
At some point past midnight, the doctor pulled into a full and bustling truck stop to refill the tank. The lights were bright and harsh, and it made the doctor and me both look dead, which I supposed we were in part after what we’d witnessed. While she gassed up, I went to use the bathroom, which to my surprise was clean and neat. Unusual for places like this in the middle of nowhere.
On my way out, I realized my stomach felt hollow and hungry. It had been hours since I’d eaten. I didn’t feel like food when my mind was still a mass of confusion. But my body needed it if I was to keep going. So I gave in for my stomach. I fished around in my jeans pocket, finding a few spare dollars, probably a laundry error rather than any godly gift. With it I bought myself and the doctor some dried fruit. Nibbling at the food made me feel a little more alive, and right now, I wasn’t sure if I really wanted that at all.
When I got back out to the gas pumps, Dr. Victors’ SUV was gone.
The bitch had gone and left me behind!
Pressure formed at my temples. What was I going to do now? How would I get as far away from my past as possible?
Sure, I was disappointed in her. But I wasn’t mad and didn’t blame her. If I was stuck with someone with godly powers who turned people into mad zombies, I’d probably run at the first chance too. As far as I was concerned, me letting her go, and then the doctor getting me the hell away from that golf club was as close to even as people could get. Especially when the good doctor had presided over Byron’s and my torture.
For a moment I paused in front of the archaic payphone. If I picked it up, I could get a hold of Mads again. Get in touch with Rane and Byron. Figure out what had happened and where to go from here. It would be the right thing to do. The smart thing.