by Ann Atkins
“What do you think I should do to someone who’s murdered my parents, threatened my friends, and cut me open to play a real, live game of Operation?” I asked, my words laced with venom.
“How are you any better than me, then? If you kill me in cold blood it will haunt you for the rest of your life.”
I cocked my head sideways as I stared at him. “I really don’t think so. I think I’d be haunted if I didn’t kill you, and there is a big difference between self-defense and murder. If I let you go, I will never have a moment’s peace. You will never stop coming after me or the ones I love, and the joy I will feel over knowing that they’re safe will far outweigh any miniscule grain of guilt I might feel over ending your miserable existence!”
A noise from outside the door caused me to glance away for a split second, and that was enough time for him to pull a gun that had been carefully concealed in the waistband of his pants beneath his shirt.
I quickly erected an impenetrable barrier around me—just in case—before focusing all of my attention on that gun. The black faded to a bright, orange glow, and he screamed as he dropped it on the floor. An angry red burn, complete with large blisters had formed on the palm of his hand. He glared at me as he cradled his bright, red, swollen hand.
“Did you really think it would be that easy?” I asked angrily.
“Do you really blame me for trying to defend myself? For trying to save my own life?”
“No, I don’t, but there are plenty of other things to blame you for, and believe me, I do! You’ve never had to answer for any of your crimes, and I think you’re long overdue!”
“And just how are you planning to exact your revenge, little girl, by talking me to death?” he sneered. “You don’t have the guts to kill me! You’re weak! Just like your headstrong mother and your fool of a father, and you will die because of that weakness, just as they did!”
There was a screaming, roaring sound inside my head as rage leaked out of every orifice of my body and rained down upon him. I was barely conscious of my actions as I raised my hands, palms up, and his body began to shake. Once the fog of anger had dissipated a little, I noticed the blue bolts of electricity snaking from my fingertips and shooting from the center of my palms.
His body fell to the floor and I stared, transfixed, as the blue, hissing, crackling snakes coiled around him. His eyes rolled back into his head and my heart stuttered. He was dying. I was killing him. I had thought it would feel good to end his life. I hadn’t expected it to feel so wrong or make me feel so dirty. The bands of electrified blue disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared, and only the faintest trace of leftover electricity crackled across my palms. Oh, God! I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t kill him!
I’d thought it would be easy. I’d thought I wouldn’t feel anything at all. I’d been wrong. It would’ve been different if I were battling to stay alive right now, but could I really kill him on the basis of the future threat he would surely pose? I didn’t know.
I was trying hard to believe that I couldn’t kill him simply because it was wrong and he was weaker than me, but in my heart, I knew it was more than that. Crouched somewhere in the deepest recesses of my mind was a little girl, a little girl who loved her daddy and just wanted him to love her back. I knew he wasn’t my father. I knew he was evil. And I really did hate him, but a tiny part of that little girl was still inside there. He was the only “parent” I’d ever known, and that little girl—as dumb as it sounds—whispered into my brain, that once he was gone, I would truly be an orphan. I hated her!
He coughed weakly, and his head fell to the side as he looked up at me, and then he started to laugh. “I told you, you weren’t strong enough,” he whispered, and then he passed out.
At least, I think he only passed out, and I was torn between checking for a pulse and kicking him. I told myself that I didn’t care if he was dead, but that was a lie. You can’t live with someone—especially someone you believed was your father—for eighteen years and not feel something when that person is gone.
I ended up choosing the latter and nudged him, none too gently, with my foot. When he groaned, I felt an odd mixture of relief and regret. Mostly, I was sorry that he was still alive. Mostly, I wanted him to suffer the way he’d made my real mom and dad suffer, but a small, microscopic part of me wished there was another way. I was a walking contradiction, and that could end up getting us all killed. I had to get it together.
My tumultuous thoughts were interrupted when Sheridan burst through the door. She was wide-eyed and disheveled, and her clothes and face were spattered with blood. She had incurred a few minor scrapes and abrasions, but she appeared mostly unharmed. She almost tripped over David when she ran in the door and stared down at him in horror for a few moments before dropping to her knees beside him. With shaking hands, she clumsily checked for a pulse. Only after ensuring that David was still alive, did she turn the power of her fury upon me. There was nothing in her eyes but pure, undiluted, burning, two hundred proof hatred.
She waved her hand across his inert form, never taking her eyes off of me and murmured, “tego texi tectum.”
I saw the air around him shimmer like heat off of the pavement, and then he began to fade, until finally, I couldn’t see him at all. She must have seen the look of panic that crossed my face because she smiled.
My eyes frantically searched the place where he’d been, and if I concentrated hard enough I could almost see him. The longer I stared the more solid he became, and I saw her smile falter when she realized she wasn’t strong enough to conceal him from me.
I was focusing too much on him, when my focus should have been on her. He was nearly unconscious, but she was wide-awake and seething with rage. She was clearly the greater threat at the moment, but as I struggled to see him I forgot that, and I paid dearly for my mistake.
She howled like a banshee, and her hair snaked out in all directions as if blown by an unseen wind. Her light gray eyes had turned into dark, silver slits, and they now appeared more catlike than human. She began to chant and a black mist rose up from the ground and began to twine around her arms and legs. The black, oily mist seemed to be absorbed by her skin, and her eyes briefly flashed to black before returning to catlike silver.
It was at this point, that I realized she was something more than just human. She wasn’t your ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill witch, and she drew her powers from darkness, not light. The question was, which one of us was stronger? I was pretty sure it was me, but she’s been practicing a lot longer than I have, and I was afraid that would make all the difference.
She spoke more words in a rapid succession of Latin that I could not follow, and I immediately flew backwards and slammed into the wall, but I didn’t drop to the floor like I should have. Instead, I was stuck up there. My arms and legs seemed to be held by invisible chains, and no matter how much I struggled I could not break free.
I panicked, but after a small amount of time had passed, I realized that physical strength wasn’t going to help me—only the power of my mind could do that.
I began to imagine the chains slipping away, and almost before my feet hit the ground, I had thrown a bubbling, boiling ball of blue fire at her. She didn’t have time to duck, and the smell of burning hair soon assaulted my nostrils.
I threw a couple more but they bounced back, and I had to duck down as they buzzed past my head. She had quickly erected a barrier around herself as she and her flaming head made a mad dash toward the sink. When she finally stood up to glare at me, she looked like a drowned rat.
“Oops,” I said, smirking at her. “Looks like you needed a wash, anyway, but next time you might actually want to use some shampoo. If you have any hair left, that is.”
“You think you’re very clever, don’t you?” she asked in a voice that trembled in anger.
“I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”
“Luck eventually runs out, dear, and borrowed time slips away even faster. Unfortunately, you
are out of both!”
Almost before she had stopped speaking, I saw more of those snakelike wisps of black, but this time they were slithering across the floor and heading straight for me. I immediately put my shield up but it did little good; they were able to pass right through it. And once they reached me, they began to multiply. They wrapped around my arms, my legs, my chest, and eventually, my throat. They burned like acid as they constricted around me, and the more I struggled, the tighter they became. I knew I needed to remain calm, but that’s kinda hard to do when you’re being strangled to death by magic snakes. Just as black polka dots danced before my eyes, I screamed for them to stop … well, not out loud, but I was definitely screaming on the inside.
I felt the reptilian lengths of fog slightly loosen their death grip on me, and my vision started to clear. I reinforced the power of my inner voice, and the wisps of black fell away and began to slither toward her. I was commanding them to attack her, but with a wave of her hand, they vanished.
Several fireballs, lightning bolts, telekinetic projectiles, spells, and shields later, I started to worry. She had proven to be a much more worthy adversary than I’d thought she’d be.
Neither of us was able to subdue the other; we were too evenly matched, or at least that’s how it seemed, but I was willing to bet that my inexperience played a role as well.
We threw everything we had at each other, but nothing was enough. We were both starting to weaken, but we remained focused on each other, because neither one of us could afford not to, but our attention was momentarily divided when Mason burst through the door.
He had immediately vamped out and charged at Sheridan, but she held up her hands and he flew across the room and smack into the wall. I waved my hand while she was distracted, causing her to slam into the wall several times before she was able to gain control. It should’ve knocked her out, but she appeared only slightly addled. What was it going to take?!?
I glanced briefly at Mason and saw that he was now pinned to the wall, just as I had been earlier, but I had no opportunity to help him, because Sheridan came at me full blast; I didn’t even have a chance to return fire. Had she been holding back, and if so, why?
A faint shadow on the periphery of my vision caused me to lose focus for a split second and that was enough. I glanced at the spot where David had lain and was alarmed to find it vacant. He appeared shadowy to me because of the spell, but I could still see him, Mason could not. I saw the glint of silver in his hand and realized that he was holding a knife.
I opened my mouth to scream, having completely forgotten about Sheridan in my fear for Mason, and my air supply was instantly cut off. I scratched at my throat until my fingernails were bloody, and all I could do was watch in horror as David plunged the knife deep into Mason’s heart.
I tried to reassure myself that it wouldn’t kill him. He was a vampire for God’s sake! He would be okay. He would be fine. He had to be fine. He had to survive. He couldn’t leave me; he wouldn’t leave me, but when his head dropped and a trickle of blood ran from his mouth, I wasn’t so sure.
He fell from the wall and I heard someone screaming and sobbing. After a moment, I realized that it was me. I was no longer choking, and I ran to his side and fell to my knees. I don’t know how long I screamed his name and shook him before I noticed the changes in him.
His skin had begun to wither and wrinkle, and he felt as cold as ice. I laid my head on his chest and cried. My eyes were closed tight as I held on to him. I knew what was happening, and I couldn’t bear to watch it. He was gone and his body was aging rapidly. Pretty soon there would be nothing left but ashes, and I wished so badly that they would just kill me too.
I couldn’t be strong like he’d been all these years. I honestly don’t know how he did it. I hadn’t even known it was possible to hurt this much and still keep living, but my treacherous heart still pumped and my stupid lungs still drew breath.
I’d never even told him I loved him and now it was too late. How had I let this happen to him? It was all my fault! I’d gotten captured, and of course, he’d come to save me. Oh, God! If I’d just stayed with him none of this would be happening right now. What was wrong with me?
“It’s amazing what you can learn from studying vampire blood,” David laughed. “My latest breakthrough is a formula that greatly impedes the healing process,” he explained, and I noticed that a faint glow tinged the knife’s surface.
I didn’t say anything, just stared at him from red, swollen eyes. He was smiling until his clothes caught fire, and then he started screaming. Sheridan quickly put out the flames, but not quickly enough, judging by the burns on his body.
He walked over and slapped me so hard that my ears rang and my head snapped back, but that was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. He clamped a meaty fist around my upper arm and tried to drag me back to my cell, but as I was pulled away from Mason, I started to panic. I kicked and screamed and scratched and clawed, desperate to hang onto what was left of him.
It was at this moment that Ella burst through the door like an avenging angel, and I was in so much shock over Mason’s death that her words barely even registered. Later, I would ponder them. Later, there would be questions, but right now, there was nothing but pain, despair, and fear. Her words were important, I was sure, but everything just sounded like static right now. Mason was gone. What else mattered?
“Get your hands off of my granddaughter!” she said in a voice that was deep, dark, and deceptively calm.
The words had no meaning. All I could understand was the pain.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Ashes
His fingers dug into my arm so hard that I cried out, but he wasn’t paying much attention to me. His cold, dead eyes were fixated solely on Ella, and I was quick to take advantage. Just like a frightened animal, I sank my teeth into his arm and he released me with a cry of pain and a curse. I quickly skittered across the floor and blanketed Mason’s body with my own, trying to protect him, because part of my brain simply refused to accept that he was gone.
“You’ve stolen one child from me! I won’t let you take this one too!” Ella warned.
Sheridan laughed. “How exactly do you plan on stopping us? You’ve been away from your homeland for far too long to do any real damage. Your magic probably isn’t even strong enough to float a feather.”
“I’m a lot stronger than you might think, but luckily I’m not just relying on my own power.”
“You stand alone, Ella, and all the borrowed power in the world won’t be enough to save you,” she sneered.
“Are you sure about that?” Ella asked, opening both hands to reveal two shiny heaps of glitter, but it was completely unlike any other glitter I’d ever seen. It almost seemed to pulse with light, like there was a tiny glowing heart beating inside of it. Tiny prisms of light reflected off of the walls, and I could hear a faint hum fade in and out as the glitter brightened and dimmed. It was beautiful. It seemed to be brimming with life, but it was scaring Sheridan and David to death. I was confused, but Sheridan gasped and took a step back with David cowering behind her. Apparently, they both knew what it was, but I was completely clueless.
The glitter began to swirl in her hands like two mini funnel clouds, and the clouds grew bigger and bigger until a strong wind whipped through the room. I clung more tightly to Mason as the funnel clouds moved toward Sheridan and David, engulfing them. The howling wind wasn’t loud enough to block the sounds of their screaming, and I buried my face against Mason’s chest as I waited for the storm to pass.
Once it was quiet, I opened my eyes to see Sheridan and David unconscious on the floor, but when I looked down at Mason, the screaming started all over again, only this time it was me.
Where Mason had lain, only moments earlier, there was now nothing but bone. A skeleton wearing his black shirt and jeans looked up at me like some macabre Halloween decoration, and pretty soon he would be nothing but ashes.
I couldn’t prete
nd anymore. There was nothing left for me to hold on to, so I just started screaming, and I had no idea how to stop. I was vaguely aware of arms being wrapped around me, and there was a soft, gentle voice somewhere in the background. Then, those same arms began to rock me, and my head rested on a soft, warm chest.
I could hear the rhythm of a heart beating in that chest, but it did little to comfort me. It was just a horrible reminder that Mason’s heart would never beat again. Mason’s arms would never hold me and rock me like this. Mason’s voice would never soothe and comfort me this way. Mason’s lips would never kiss me again. Mason’s eyes would never look into mine. We would never get married, never have kids … never have anything ever again, and I think I was screaming to try and drown out the sound of my shattering soul.
After a while, the arms released me and the voice rose in volume. Two strong hands gripped my upper arms tightly and began to shake, but the screaming never stopped. My throat felt raw, and I knew that my voice would eventually fail me, but I just couldn’t stop; I didn’t want to stop, because the guilt I felt churning inside me over his death was so much louder than the screaming.
A sharp stinging blow to my cheek startled me and quieted me down, but the second slap completely shut me up, and I blinked my eyes as if waking from a bad dream. I looked over at Mason and all that was left was his clothes, and I began to rock back and forth and whimper.
“Allison, no! Don’t look at him, baby, look at me. Please, sweetheart, just listen to me for a few moments.”
I slowly turned my head and looked at Ella. Her blue eyes were wide and frightened, and her cheeks were stained with tears. Her blond hair was streaked with blood, and her clothing was ripped and bloodstained. Unconsciously, I reached my hand up and wiped a tear from her cheek and she covered it with her own.