"We need to know," said Rhys. "I need to know. If this is true, I need to start looking for a solution."
Slowly, I nodded. I dreaded doing this, but Rhys was right, we needed to know. I wasn't about to give up on my love with Rhys based on what might just be a dream, but if it were true, we needed to be prepared, take precautions, and most importantly, look for a cure.
I walked the two steps it took to get to the far side of the small cabin while Rhys remained on the bed. I tried to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to do, but how could you ever feel ready to cause your boyfriend to become a mass-murdering monster?
I really hoped my dream was wrong.
Standing there, taking deep breaths felt like standing on the edge of a pool. You know that sooner or later you will have to jump in and that waiting simply delays the inevitable, but you still can't bring yourself to do it. Except this pool was full of rage and pain, and there was no guarantee of ever getting out of it.
At this moment, there was still hope that the vision was wrong. The moment I cast the snare, we would find out one way or the other if Rhys would become a murderous rampaging monster.
Can you blame me for hesitating?
Rhys nodded at me. "You can do it," he said.
I felt the tears once again begin to roll down my cheeks. I took in a steadying breath. This was it. I was going to do it. Any minute now. Right now. Or now.
Or now.
Black cables flew from my fingers wrapping Rhys tightly from head to toe, his arms pinned to his side.
Nothing happened.
Rhys looked up at me and smiled, relief clearly visible on his face. The dream had been wrong. We could be together!
And then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell limp against my snare.
"Rhys? Rhys?" I cried. "Wake up! Don't do this!"
But when he opened his eyes, they were glowing red.
Chapter 12
Bitter Medicine
I spent the next day holding the man I loved prisoner. Fortunately, by the time we had to get off the yacht, he had passed out, and I was able to carry him off the boat in my arms, the snare that kept him captive invisible to everyone but me.
I cried a lot during that time. My worst fears had been confirmed and an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness weighed me down and sucked all the joy out of my heart.
The words Rhys had said to me about never giving up still ran through my mind and were the only thing that kept me sane during this dark journey. I held those precious words tightly and tried to focus on the hope they offered, not the bleak reality that kept punching me in the face whenever I let my mental guard down.
I chartered a private jet to take us home. I didn't want to risk the awkward questions that would come with a commercial flight, and my experience had been that with enough money crew members would keep quiet and give us privacy. Also, if something did happen with Rhys, the cold reality was there were fewer people on a private jet.
Halfway through the flight, Rhys woke up. I had laid him down on a leather couch and sat so that his head rested on a pillow in my lap. He had woken up several times before, but this time his eyes were normal. He looked up at me, took in the interior of the jet, and frowned.
"I guess our little experiment didn't work out so well?" he asked.
My throat felt too tight to get any words out. What was I supposed to say? Sorry, Rhys, but you go feral anytime I use my binder powers around you. I hope that isn't a problem?
Instead, I just shook my head.
Rhys slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted. "We will get through this," he promised.
It took me a minute to find my voice. "You can't know that," I said.
Rhys pondered my words for a moment. "I don't have any proof," he said. "I know things look bad. Really bad. But I also know things will work out for us. Someway, somehow, we will get through this and be stronger for it."
"Isn't that just wishful thinking?" I asked. I wanted to believe. I really did. But I couldn't see any scenario where this could possibly work out. I was losing my faith in us. You can only have so many bad things happen before you start to expect them.
"There’s a difference between having hope and wishful thinking," said Rhys. He squeezed my hand tighter. "I still have hope that we can and will get through this. I don't have all the answers now, but I know that as we need them the answers will come. I’m not giving up on us."
***
I kept a close eye on Rhys for the rest of the trip. He didn't show any signs of going feral, but it was obvious that he was still exhausted. He couldn't stay awake for very long at a time and the least bit of exertion tired him out completely. But at least he was still Rhys and hadn't gone feral again.
We brought the venom to Shing, straight from the airport. We found him still watching over my unconscious dad. As he had promised, Shing had not left Dad's side for long, if at all.
I knelt beside my father's bed and stroked his face, which I noticed was clean shaven. Obviously Shing had been seeing to his care. I held his hand for a moment, secretly hoping that my presence would somehow register with his unconscious mind and cause him to wake up.
It did not.
Rhys fell asleep on the couch while Shing examined the venom. After a few moments of looking at it from various angles and – beyond gross – tasting a sample, Shing pronounced it good. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been afraid that we hadn't harvested enough or Shing would find something wrong with it. I hadn't relished the thought of going back there anytime soon, but I would have done it a hundred times over if that was what it took to save my dad.
Shing said he would need a few hours to make up the appropriate medicine. He had ordered the needed supplies while we had been gone, so he had everything he needed at the Berserker house.
Before he left, Shing motioned to Rhys' sleeping form. "It is not like Rhys to be so exhausted," he said.
Which, now that I had been around Shing for so long, I realized was his way of asking what had happened to Rhys.
I hesitated a moment while I thought through the consequences of telling Shing about what had happened. Would he think Rhys was too dangerous and kill him on the spot? I didn't think he would, but I couldn't be entirely sure. I needed to feel him out a bit.
"I think he's sick," I said. I wanted to start slowly and not just dump it on Shing all at once.
"In what way?" asked Shing.
How did I answer that? Did I tell him about Rhys going feral, or just leave it vague? The question I had to answer for myself was how much did I trust Shing?
Which wasn't a difficult question. I completely trusted Shing. There was no way I could not tell him.
I explained to him the situation – about the dream, Rhys' red eyes, and how I had brought him back.
Shing's expression did not change the entire time I spoke. I could have been discussing the weather or best chocolate chip cookie recipes for all the reaction I got from him. I knew by now that it wasn't that he didn't care. He simply controlled how he expressed his emotions with an iron will.
"You have given me much to think about," Shing said. "I, too, have never heard of a Berserker going feral and then coming back from it. As you said, the old rules clearly do not apply anymore."
"But what do I do?" I asked. "I'm still new at this. I don't know what to do." At this point I couldn't help it and hot tears spilled out of my eyes.
The stoic expression on Shing's face melted and was replaced by a look of tender compassion. It changed his face so much I almost couldn't recognize it as him.
He pulled me in to a hug, and I sobbed on his shoulder, completely soaking his shirt. Shing was the last person still conscious that I could fully trust.
After a moment I pulled back and Shing handed me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and tried to stop my blubbering, but it was several minutes before I could gather myself back together.
"I have found that action is often helpful in times of sadness,"
he said.
I nodded and blew my nose, cringing at how gross it sounded. So ladylike.
"I believe it may be prudent to start with the things we know we have control over," Shing said.
I was pretty sure I knew where Shing was going with this. "The medicine for my dad?"
Shing gave single nod. "Yes. I will take Rhys back to the Berserker house with me and make the medicine there."
"Why take Rhys?" I asked. "What if he goes feral again?"
"I do not believe that will be the case," he said. "If we believe your dream dragon, it seems that being farther away from you will reduce the likelihood of that happening."
I wanted to throw up just thinking about it, but I had to concentrate on the task at hand. "But what if it does? I need to be with him to use my snare."
"In the unlikely event that he does go feral again," Shing said, "You will feel it through your connection, and I will use my own powers to contain him until you arrive."
"Can you do that?" I asked. "He's very strong when feral."
"He is not the first feral Berserker I have dealt with," Shing said gently. "I am familiar with how to contain them."
Of course. He and the other Berserkers had dealt with Eric when he had gone feral. I knew they had trained for that situation and there were techniques taught specifically for fighting feral Berserkers.
Of course, most of those were for killing them.
I didn't like it. Not at all. But that was mostly because it involved me being away from Rhys when I knew he was hurting. But what were my other options? I could keep Rhys here, but Shing was right, there was a greater chance of something bad happening with him close to me. It made sense to keep away from him for now.
I sighed. "Ok. Let's do it."
***
The next few hours felt like years. Shing had taken Rhys with him, and I was left alone with my unconscious father. I held his hand and told him all about my trip to Antarctica.
"Now Shing has the venom and is going to make some medicine that will help you," I said. "It won't be long now before you can come home."
At least, I hoped that would be the case. There were no guarantees that what Shing was preparing would even work. My father was a special case that didn't quite fit into the human or Berserker reaction. We had no idea how he would react to the medicine, but the alternative was to simply leave him as is and wait for him to slowly die.
When Shing finally entered the room he was alone.
"Where's Rhys?" I asked. A thrill of fear shot through me as I thought about what could have gone wrong.
"Do not worry," Shing said. "Rhys is asleep in his bed. I saw no sign of him going feral during the brief moments he was awake. However, just to be sure, I have given him a sedative that will ensure he stays asleep until I return. You have nothing to worry about."
I took in a deep breath and let it out. Leaving Rhys alone in his condition made me very nervous. Given what I knew about him and my connection to him, he felt like a time bomb that could go off any minute. We just needed to find a way to defuse the bomb before it went off again.
"So what's next?" I asked.
Shing pulled out six small bottles, each with bright red liquid in them. "This is the medicine that counteracts the toxin in your father's body. I had enough venom to make six doses. In a normal Berserker it would instantly bring them back to consciousness and eliminate any hallucinations caused by the toxin. Given the way your father has been affected, we cannot be sure how he will react."
"I understand," I said. Shing was trying to prepare me for the fact that this medicine might not work on my father at all. He wasn't a Berserker anymore so the entire trip might have been for nothing.
It was time to find out.
Shing removed the cap from one of the bottles, while I lifted my dad's head and opened his mouth. Shing emptied the contents of the bottle in his mouth and turned his head so he would reflexively swallow the medicine.
It took what felt like several minutes to get the liquid in him, and once he swallowed, he started coughing. It was the most movement I had seen from him since he took the knife for me back in Puebla.
After a few moments of coughing, Dad slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Shing and me.
He tried to speak, but all that came out was a croaking noise. After being unconscious for so long, his throat was dry and parched. I helped him sit up and take a sip of water.
"Slowly," I said. "Take it easy, Dad."
After the first couple of sips, Dad began to gulp the water, clearly thirsty. Once he had drank his fill, he swallowed hard a couple of times and cleared his throat before attempting to speak again.
"What's going on?" he asked. "Where am I?"
I jumped up and gave Shing a huge hug. "Thank-you!" I said and then gave Dad an enthusiastic – if somewhat gentler – hug.
"I'm so glad you're back!"
It took a while to fill Dad in on what had happened while he was unconscious. Even then, we didn't tell him everything – just the highlights. I left out the part about Rhys going feral. I didn't want him to worry about it yet. He needed to focus on his own recovery, not Rhys' condition.
"Are you...ok?" he asked me. His speech was halting and slow. Like a person who had just been woken up from a deep sleep and hasn't yet fully awakened.
"I'm fine, Dad. Now that you're back, everything will be ok again."
Dad smiled at me and took my hand in his. Slowly his eyelids drooped lower and lower until once again his eyes were closed. This time he was only asleep instead of in a coma but that fact that he had only stayed awake for about fifteen minutes worried me. I asked Shing what he thought about it.
"He may be like this for some time," said Shing. He looked at the ground. "In Berserkers the medicine works instantly and you see full effects right away. We need to be prepared to accept that he may never fully recover his full strength and stamina."
I took in the words Shing said and tried to be brave. "It's better than him being completely unconscious and slowly dying," I said. "At least this way he lives, and I get to have my father back, regardless of how weak he may be."
"The immediate danger does seem to be over," Shing said. "But we do not know who sent this man after you." He handed me two of the doses of red medicine. "Keep these with you at all times," he said. "You were already attacked twice, and the strong possibility exists that whoever orchestrated those attacks will try again. If you are ever exposed to the toxin used on your father, drink one of these bottles immediately. It should counteract the effects and prevent the toxin from causing you hallucinations."
I took the bottles and promised to keep them with me at all times.
No sooner had I put the bottles away when without warning a sudden pain stabbed through my head. It felt as if someone had detonated explosives inside my skull. Bright lights flashed before my eyes, and I felt the contents of my stomach churn uneasily. Only the explosion didn't happen once – it continued over and over again with machine-gun-like frequency.
The world around me faded, and I saw a castle I had only seen before in photos – Nuremberg Castle – the location of Pravicus' seal.
My Havoc's seal.
I saw the seal before me, the familiar gold with the red handprint in the center. I watched in horror as first one crack, followed by dozen's more spread across the face of the seal.
The seal shattered into a thousand pieces. Bright light flashed around me, ripping every conscious thought from my head. Buildings, trees, and people simply vaporized as the energy from the broken seal expanded outwards, destroying everything in its path. Before I could see the full extent of the destruction, my body gave out, and I collapsed to the floor in too much pain to do anything but simply curl up into the fetal position.
My last conscious thought was one of horror as I processed what I had seen – Pravicus was free.
Chapter 13
Needing a Little Space
I woke up in my own bed. How had I gotten here? It
was the first time I had been in my own bed in months. My mother sat by me, lines of concern etched in her face.
"Oh, good, you're awake," she said and smiled. She reached over and stroked my hair. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of her hand on my head.
After a moment I opened my eyes again. "What happened?" I asked. "How did I get here?"
"Your friend, Shing, brought you over," Mom said. "He said you were dealing with fatigue from all your travels and that you just needed some rest."
It took me a minute to sort through my memories and piece together what had happened.
The castle.
The seal.
The explosion.
Had that been real? Had Pravicus' seal really broken and destroyed all of Nuremburg with it? I needed to find out, but I couldn't ask directly – hey did Nuremberg suddenly blow up?
"What's been happening on the news?" I asked. "Anything big going on?"
Mom's smile faded. "Oh, yes," she said. "Terrible things. There was some sort of terrorist attack in Germany yesterday. They still don't know what happened, but everything in a hundred mile radius of Nuremberg just vaporized. They think someone set off a new type of bomb."
I felt my stomach twist. Nuremberg was completely destroyed? Did I have something to do with it? Was I responsible for all those deaths? There had been no warning – no strange weather patterns or other signs of the seal breaking.
My anguish must have been visible on my face. "What's wrong, Madison?" Mom asked.
"I can't really talk about it," I said.
"Does it have to do with your new friends?"
That question brought me up short. As far as I understood, the haze on Mom should prevent her from making the kinds of mental connections to even ask that question.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Mom paused for a minute. "I keep remembering bits and pieces of conversations. I don't understand it all, but I get the idea that you and your friends have some important secrets."
She paused, and I gaped at her. How could she know that? Was the haze Mallika had cast breaking down, too?
Bonds That Break (The Havoc Chronicles Book 3) Page 16