“Yeah,” I said, blinking back tears at the thought of her. “I’m definitely going to miss her.” It was one hell of an understatement.
“Many people lost their lives in this struggle. By the laws of the Astra coven, it is now up to us to live as they might have, to give their sacrifice a living memorial.” Luc looked off into the distance. He was so old for his years, so wise. He definitely wouldn’t be caught sneaking out to go dicking around in a lake after hours. No. He was the kind of kid who changed the world. A swell of pride bubbled up inside of me.
“Maybe we’ll do that, son,” I answered, and slung my arm over his shoulder. “How are you feeling? Are you still hearing the voices?”
“Of the coven members Uncle Scott banished? Yes, a little. They seem more distant than before, but that may be because some of them have perished.”
“Don’t think like that, kid,” I answered, smiling as I saw Gary rushing up with two ice cream bars in his hands. “This is a good day. Sure, we lost some good people, and we’ve got more than a little to rebuild after this, but we’ve got today. We’re together, you me, Gary here, your mom and Scott. That’s important. It’s more than we ever thought we’d get.” Gary handed me the ice cream bar, and I handed it over to Luc. “And you get to have ice cream for breakfast. That’s got to count for something.”
He looked it over with a critical eye. “This is not a normal breakfast, Father,” he said. “Back in the coven-”
“You’ve gotta stop that, son,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re with your dad, and if your dad wants to eat ice cream with you for breakfast,” I looked over at Gary for my ice cream bar, only to find it half eaten in his mouth. “If your father wants to watch you eat ice cream for breakfast, then that’s what we’re going to do,” I amended, shaking my head at Gary.
“I was hungry,” he said through a mouthful of push pop.
“Alright then,” he answered, opening the bar slowly. Looking at me, he tasted it. Then he tasted it again. “Perhaps I can be persuaded that this is an acceptable breakfast after all,” he said.
“That’s my boy,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.
Looking over, I saw Scott and Essie walking toward me. They had been discussing some of heavier aspects of what was going on. So, when I saw them coming, I got up and walked toward them, telling Gary to keep an eye on Luc.
“Did you contact the other covens, tell them what happened?” I asked, settling in front of the pair.
“We did,” Scott answered. “They were all really sympathetic and grateful for what we’d done. They even offered to let us join up.” Scott shuffled nervously. “But-”
“But they don’t want anything to do with half demons,” I finished. I knew the answer.
“I told them to stick their invitations up their ass,” Scott said. “And I told them that the next time the world needs to be saved, maybe they should look somewhere else.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at my brother and punching his shoulder.
“No worries. Besides, if they don’t want my baby brother, then I don’t want them,” he answered.
“Plus your nephew,” I said and motioned back to Luc, who was halfway through the ice cream I’d given him.
“What is he eating?” Essie asked, narrowing her eyes and looking over at him.
“Oh leave him alone. He’s happy,” I said, rolling my eyes. “It’s just ice cream.”
“He may be, but that’ll have to stop once you’re in charge for good. I can’t have my son getting cavities,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.
“In charge for good?” I asked, my interest piqued. I had made it very clear that I wanted to be a part of my son’s life after all of this was over. I never wanted to be like my father, never wanted to be an absentee parent. I wouldn’t be that. I wouldn’t do to Luc what had been done to me. Still, the idea that Essie would just let me be in charge was strange enough that it caused me to worry a little bit. “There’s something I don’t know, isn’t there?”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know, baby brother,” Scott answered. “Though there is something that’s a little more pressing at the moment.”
“It’s about the coven,” Essie said, looking passed me and at our child. “They’re lost, stranded across the world, across the worlds. They have no powers and no way of getting back home. We can’t leave them like that. They deserve more. The coven deserves more.”
Though I had my own thoughts about what the coven deserved, I did think finding people who had fought as hard as they had for a good cause was important.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“I’m connected to them,” Scott said. “I can feel them. I can even hear them sometimes.”
“I know,” I nodded. “Luc is going through the same thing.”
“Right,” Scott answered. “Which is why I have to go find them. I’m the only one who can, the only one who can sense them and draw them out.”
“What?” I asked, my eyes widening. “You’re leaving? There are hundreds of members of the coven, Scott. There’s no guarantee that any of them are together. It could take years to find them on your own.”
“It could.” Scott nodded. “But I won’t be on my own.”
“He’s only connected to half the coven members,” Essie said. “He only absorbed half of their energy signatures. The other half is-”
“Oh no,” I said, throwing a pointed finger at the both of them. “If you think you’re taking my son on an intergalactic mission to find displaced warlocks in the most dangerous places known to man or beast, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Essie said. “Does anything about me lead you to believe I’d put our son in that kind of danger? Fighting to save the world is one thing. Leaving on an open ended mission to parts unknown is something completely different.”
I breathed a sigh of relief before asking, “But if you don’t mean Luc, then-”
“The energy can be channeled,” Scott said. “Like the Hypnos energy which was channeled through Renee. The same basic principal can be used to gauge the energy inside of Luc. It won’t be the same, but it’s as much as any of us are willing to risk.”
“You’re forgetting something,” I said, shaking my head. “The channeling thing only worked with Renee because she shared blood with Hypnos. I love you, Scott. You’re my brother in all the ways that count, but you don’t share blood with Luc.”
“But I do,” Essie said, swallowing hard.
“What?” I asked. “You’re not serious.”
“But I am,” she answered. “It’s what’s right. It’s what’s necessary. I love Luc. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, but listening to him talk about you that way, like you were a hero, I realized there were more ways than one to be a good parent.”
“Essie,” I said, my mind racing. “Let me do this. You’re his mother. You need to be with him. I share blood with him too. I’ll go.”
“And then what will become of him, Roy?” Essie asked. “He needs to learn to control the demon half of himself. I can’t help him do that. Only you can. He’s lived thirteen years of his life with me, and I taught him to be a man in the best ways I knew how. Now it’s your turn.” She touched my arm. “But no more ice cream for breakfast.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, my heart full of muted joy and hurt. I couldn’t believe I was going to get to be with my son every day, but the price was a steep one. I knew what it was like to be without a mother, and now my son would too. At least, for a while.
“I’m going to go say goodbye,” she said, squeezing my shoulder, and then walked to our son.
“You’re really going to do this?” I asked, looking over at Scott.
“You didn’t think you were the only hero in the family, did you?” He winked at me. “Besides, chicks love hero stories. Maybe I’ll even get one of those scars. I won’t be able to beat them off with a stick.”
“Be careful,” I sai
d. “I know you want to save the coven, but I don’t want to lose a brother.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” he answered. “I’m like the flu. I always come back. Besides, Luc will still be connected to us. If something comes up, if you need us-”
“Just use my son like he’s the string between two tin cans?”
“Now you’re getting it,” he said, punching my shoulder again. “I’m proud of you, baby brother. Now go be a kickass dad.”
“You got it,” I said, gave him a hug, and walked toward Luc.
By the time I reached him, Essie was already walking away. She nodded at me, saying so much more than words could with a single look. We were connected forever, the two of us. And neither of us would have it any other way.
“Are you okay?” I asked, sitting down next to Luc. “She’ll be back, you know.”
“I know,” he answered. “One of the abilities I absorbed was limited precognition. It comes in handy.”
“I bet,” I smiled. “I want you to know that we’re going to be alright, you and me.”
Gary nudged me with a sharp shoulder.
“And Gary,” I said.
“Yes Father, I know,” he answered. “And we won’t be by ourselves, not unless we choose to be.”
“What?” I asked.
“She probably won’t remember us when we find her,” he said, looking out at the rising sun. “The rebirth can be a little tricky, and I doubt she’ll be exactly as we knew her.” He shook his head. “It never rises as it fell.”
“Luc, what are you talking about?” I asked, leaning forward.
“The gift I gave you,” he answered, pressing his hand against my chest at the spot where the burn was. “Remember, I told you I redirected the Greek god’s energy. I hope you like the surprise.”
Pulling open my shirt, I saw the spot he touched had become a branding. On my chest, burned into my skin, was a bird with fire flying from its wings.
“Is that a-”
“A phoenix,” Luc said, smiling at me. “The bird of resurrection, and the last spell I cast on Renee.”
“You…” I balked. “You weird, amazing, beautiful kid.” I said, hugging him and squeezing him hard. My arms seemed lighter. My heart seemed lighter. The world itself was brighter now. “Thank you so much, son.”
“Of course, Father,” he answered. “And we can begin the search for her whenever you’d like. Though, I wouldn’t mind another ice cream before we go.” His eyebrows shot up. “Assuming we don’t tell Mother.”
I chuckled. “It’ll be our little secret.”
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Cursed
My name is Mac Brennan and that's the only thing I can remember about myself. Not why I woke up in a dumpster. Not why my right arm is as black as pitch and covered in glowing red tattoos, and certainly not why a vicious death cult is after me.
Actually, that last part isn't true. I know why the death cult is after me. It's because I saved that damned girl from them. I didn't know who she was at the time, but I'd have done it anyway. I just don't like it when girls get beat up, call me old fashioned.
Still, I can tell she's hiding something behind those devilish eyes, and if I want to find out what it is, I'll have to help her.
My name is Mac Brennan. I have no memory, and I'm a werewolf-hunting, hellfire-flinging version of Faust himself.
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Cursed
Chapter 1
The sound of punishing hydraulics snapped me from sleep. My eyes shot open, but I couldn’t see much of anything through the closed lids of the dumpster. The stink of rotten eggs and festering meat filled my nostrils, turning my stomach as I struggled to find my bearings but succeeded only in burying myself further beneath gobs of slimy debris. I reached out, trying to claw my way through the plastic trash bags piled on top of me as the whole world shuddered up and to the left, covering me in dirty diapers, rotten tuna fish, and moldy cheese.
My right hand lashed out with a mind of its own, trying to grip on the inside of the steel dumpster as it began to tilt, dousing the back of my neck in warm, sticky fluid that smelled of rancid beer. Bile rose up in my throat as my fingers scrapped against the paint-chipped metal, desperate for purchase that would not come.
The sound of a garbage truck’s crushing hydraulics filled my ears, reverberating deep down in my gut as a snake of fear twisted inside. I tried to scream, to cry out for them to stop as gravity, the bitch that she is, began pulling me toward my inevitable demise.
The lids beneath me fell open then, smacking against the metal side with a sound like a gunshot. The sudden glare of sunlight was nearly blinding, but it was the flash of a trash-filled pit that threw me into a panic. I scrambled to grab onto something, anything that could arrest my fall before I tumbled into the gaping maw of the trash truck.
As my feet cleared the edge of the dumpster and my fingers slid off the metal, a wave of rancid, curdled milk crashed against my face, filling my nostrils with fetid goo and cutting off my air supply. Without thinking, I opened my mouth to suck in a breath before my lungs exploded. Milk spilled down my throat, and while I tried to curse in rage and horror, the only sound that came out was a hoarse, bubbling gag that would never be heard over the noise.
Even if I could have managed to cry out, there was no way for someone to hear me scream over the roar of the punishing hydraulics destined to compact me into pulp. Not that it mattered. If I survived the fall into the metal jaws below, I was going to be pretty damned dead about a second later when the automated press punched my teeth through my brain.
If the driver saw me now, it would probably be too late for him to stop his truck from killing me. As the dumpster upended itself, I fell backward, scrabbling against the metal like a pathetic lizard as the lower part of my body cleared the edge. My heart hammered in my chest like a goddamned bass drum as I tumbled ass over elbows. My right hand shot up, reaching for one last desperate handhold. A stream of crimson light, so bright it was blinding even over the sunlight streaming into the alley from above, burst from the tattoos emblazoned on my arm.
With that last desperate lunge, my fingertips brushed at the edge of the heavy plastic dumpster lid, and I jerked to a stop that damned near dislocated my shoulder. A howl of pain ripped from my throat as I hung there, trash cascading down around me from the dumpster like rain from a hideous, disgusting storm cloud.
As I hung there, watching the metal jaws of the compactor crush the trash into the back of the truck, part of me marveled the driver hadn’t seen me. The other part of me was thanking any and all gods for letting me live, even though I wasn’t sure how that was possible. I ought to be dead.
I craned my head upward, shielding my eyes from the still falling trash as best I could. My right arm was as black as pitch. Scarlet symbols I didn’t recognize glowed with feverish light across its entire length, but what was even weirder was how my fingers clung to the heavy plastic lid like I was Spiderman. I mean, hey, I’m not complaining because I was pretty sure I’d been about to die in a hail of old beer bottles and half-eaten sandwiches, but still, it was a little weird, especially because the rest of my skin was so pale I could have blended in with a milk display.
Before I could begin to figure out what the hell was going on, the dumpster began to tilt back the other direction. Momentum and gravity took turns slamming me into the metal belly of the dumpster before the lids fell back into place, leaving me shrouded in darkness. My hand released its grip on the lid, and I fell against the steel bottom hard enoug
h to make my teeth rattle in my skull. Agony shot through my back as a sickening crack of my spine against metal filled my ears. I lay there, struggling to breathe until well after the dumpster was back on the ground.
I was tempted to lay there and rest for a while, to try and figure out what the hell had happened, but what if I passed out? Sure, I’d somehow survived this time, but I might not survive the next time. Besides, the idea of being covered in garbage wasn’t exactly appealing. In the unlikely event people who regularly dumped trash in here decided to glance inside first, they would probably notice me taking a nap inside and call the cops. I was pretty sure I wasn’t exactly friendly with the police. Call it a hunch, but I don’t think cops looked kindly upon people who slept in dumpsters.
With all the willpower I could muster, I crawled to my feet and pushed the heavy black lid open. The sunlight greeted me like a punch to the face, and I was forced to look away and cover my eyes with my black hand. Thankfully, the tattoos along my arm weren’t glowing like they were radioactive anymore. I gave myself a moment to get used to the brightness before pulled myself over the metal lip. Even though I tried to land gracefully, I wound up collapsing onto the cracked asphalt. It hurt, but at least I was out of the dumpster.
I pushed myself to my feet, intending to walk off my recent debacle like a badass. Then I was going to go home and get myself a nice warm shower. I stopped mid-step. There was just one problem. I didn’t remember where I lived. Hell, I didn’t remember anything other than my name. Mac Brennan.
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