A descendent of a goddess of magic, of witchcraft. “What? You think I’m the Incantator?” I squealed.
“No, no, not that,” Micah gushed. “Just, that you’re capable of it. It’s fueling your other specialties, making you even stronger.”
“You came up with this just because she’s developing quickly?” Nathan asked with more than just a hint of disapproval.
“No,” Micah admitted reluctantly, “there’s more.”
More? Seriously? How much more could there possibly be?
I wasn’t so sure I wanted to stick around to hear what else he had to drop on us, but again, my curiosity won out. Besides, this whole conversation was about me. I supposed I couldn’t just up and leave like I really wanted to do.
“We’ve all heard of the legend of Hecate,” Micah said to the others.
Obviously, Callie and I hadn’t heard of the legend. The rest of them grumbled their acknowledgement.
Micah spoke to me directly, since the others didn’t need the history lesson. “Hecate sided with Zeus and Poseidon, but she held so much power because of her magic that Hades captured and imprisoned her, rendering her powers useless, except for his own vices. Before she was captured, she had a secret love affair with another god, Asclepius. Legend has it that they fed off each other, made each other stronger, as their souls were like one. They were what modern day soul mates are based on.
“When Hecate was imprisoned by Hades, being away from Asclepius weakened her. She was further weakened by her desire for him, a desire that would forever remain unfulfilled. You see, Hades placed a curse on her that if she were ever to reunite with Asclepius, she would kill him, assuring that Hecate would never try to escape, and would remain weak and for Hades’ manipulation.”
A quick glance around the room confirmed that the others had heard of this legend before. Micah wasn’t spinning some wild tale for me. Even if it was an interesting story, there was much I still didn’t understand.
“Micah, what does all of this have to do with me?”
He looked me squarely in the eyes. “I’m descendent of Asclepius.”
From somewhere, from someone in the room, came a gasp. Micah was staring at me as if he expected his revelation to have some sort of effect on me. It didn’t. I had no clue what it meant. So what if, for argument’s sake, I came from this Hecate character’s bloodline, and she had a secret love affair with the guy that supplied one of Micah’s bloodlines. So what if they had been soul mates?
So why was everyone looking at me like they were? Especially Micah. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of me once.
“There are stories of others like us, Kris,” he continued, gesturing toward the books on the table. “Others who were thought to be descendent of Hecate and Asclepius, who crossed paths because they found each other, because they too were soul mates.” He paused with an apologetic expression on his face, and too late, I realized why. “The bond we have, the dreams, it’s all because their connection was passed on to us.”
My face fell as I felt all eyes turn to me. One set in particular.
His voice was like thunder in my ears. “Dreams?”
I glared at Micah, making sure he understood the gravity of what he’d just done. It was out in the open now. They all knew about the dreams. Nathan knew.
When I turned to face him, his eyes were already on me, waiting, questioning. He must have seen the answer written on my face. “You’re sharing dreams with him.” It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded my answer regardless. That muscle in Nathan’s cheek twitched. “How long?”
Afraid to answer, I hesitated. Long enough that Micah found it necessary to answer on my behalf. “Since she started development,” he said, “and we formed the connection.”
Though I knew Nathan heard Micah, he gave no indication that he had. His complete focus remained on me as he waited for my answer.
“Months,” I said softly.
I didn’t know what I expected Nathan to say or do, if anything, but his first action would have been the last on a long list of possibilities.
He turned to Alec. “Did you know about this?”
Standing in the corner with a fist to his face as he attempted to conceal a smile, Alec said, “If I did, this wouldn’t be the first you were hearing about it, as much fun as this train wreck is to watch.”
At another time, in another situation, I might have cracked a smile at Alec’s quip. Hell, Nathan might have even found it a little funny. But nothing about this moment—this train wreck—was funny to either of us. Nathan’s steady gaze remained fixed on me for a long time. The silence of the others moved in around us like a heavy fog, giving me the sensation that it was just the two of us alone in the room.
But it wasn’t, and Micah made sure to remind us of that. “We were born with this connection, Kris,” he said as if nothing else more important than his stupid revelations was going on right now. “We could use this, take advantage of it now that we know. Use it to beat the Skotadi at their own game.”
I watched as Nathan’s gaze finally moved and settled on Micah. I expected some sort of reaction from Nathan—most likely a strategically placed fist to Micah’s face—but his lack of reaction was even more unsettling than the alternative. He turned and walked away without another word.
Gabby and Richie watched him carefully, and only relaxed when the front door slammed shut behind him. Looking out the window, I saw him pause briefly before bounding down the steps. He cut across the yard, heading toward the trail in the woods.
I wanted to follow, to try to explain to him that the dreams meant nothing to me, not like they obviously did to Micah. I decided against it; opted to leave him alone—to let him clear his head. God knew he needed it.
As did I. I didn’t yell at Micah, didn’t tell him all the hateful things I otherwise would have. I didn’t even look at him before I retreated down the hallway to my bedroom.
It was just too much. There was so much to absorb, to consider, that I didn’t know where to begin. But all of that was trumped by the memory of the look on Nathan’s face.
First, his witness of my encounter with Alec in the kitchen. Then, this bombshell of Micah’s. I started to worry that the stars weren’t aligned for Nathan and I after all. Maybe this would finally seal the deal—we weren’t meant to be together, no matter what I thought, no matter what I wanted, and what I knew in my heart he wanted too.
And despite the possibility that I might be descendent of a goddess of magic, making me an Incantator, and destined to be soul mates with someone I could barely stand, the thought that Nathan and I would never be together was the one that crumbled me onto the bed in a fit of tears.
CHAPTER 12
If Micah thought we were going to start picking out china patterns together, he was seriously mistaken. If anything, I wanted to pound the hell out of him, and probably would have if not for Gabby and Richie hovering around like they knew exactly what I was thinking.
I was sure Micah was getting an earful of my thoughts, because, aside from working with me on my specialties once a day for a few hours, he kept his distance.
As did Nathan. While I desperately wanted to talk to him, to fix everything—if I could—I gave him the space he obviously wanted. It was like a slow, miserable death for me inside, but I figured a little time for him to see how ridiculous Micah’s claims were would be worth every minute in the long run.
And Alec? Well, Alec was just pissed. At Micah, simply for existing. I was pretty sure he wanted to beat up on Micah as much as I did. Maybe more. Unlike Nathan, he wasn’t avoiding me, or Micah.
Surprisingly, Alec took to hanging out with me and Micah more as we worked on reigning in my specialties. Perhaps to be an ally for me. I knew it wasn’t to protect Micah. I doubted he would stop me—and would most likely join in—if I raised a hand to Micah.
Alec was with us now on the back porch, where we had met about an hour ago. So far, I have yielded fire twice…and extinguished it wi
thout catching anything or anyone on fire. It seemed I was a natural at manipulating fire. My other specialties were a different story.
For one, they were much harder to practice.
My fighting skills I would typically work on with Nathan, and that wasn’t happening anytime soon. I’d yet to fully understand what my ‘charmer’ specialty was all about. To me, it sounded like a joke—the ability to woo people into liking and trusting you, and then convincing them to do what you wanted. Yeah, right. Micah had to be wrong about me specializing in that one. That left conferring with the dead, and I so didn’t want to try that now. Not with witnesses.
I’d tried once, alone in my bedroom, to reach Gran. The attempt had resulted in me staring at the wall for thirty minutes, and feeling like a complete idiot when nothing happened. I wasn’t ready to do it again. The thought that I might actually reach her freaked me out way too much. I wasn’t ready to try it again.
Perhaps that was why I had failed? Because I wasn’t really ready? Either way, I wasn’t doing it again. Not now. Maybe never.
“If you don’t want to try channeling the dead,” Micah was saying, “then try charming me. Or Alec.”
“She don’t need to charm me. Not like that,” Alec said drily from the porch swing.
He was leaning forward, elbows on knees, and head in his hands as if hanging out with Micah and me caused him excruciating pain. He glanced up at me and I flashed him a smile to portray my gratefulness, for both his presence and his backhanded compliment, before I turned to address Micah.
“I don’t even know where to start. How do you charm people?”
Micah lifted an eyebrow and looked at Alec. “Care to elaborate?”
Alec blinked slowly and gave Micah a look I’d come to realize meant that his tolerance level was quickly fading. “I guess it comes naturally to me.”
I threw my hands up and glared at Micah. “See? I can’t do it. I don’t want to try to do it.”
Micah was relentless. “Look. You’re good with fire and fighting. We just need to work on your meditation so th—”
Alec crossed the length of the porch in a few strides, coming to my side. His eyes were filled with rage, and a tiny spark lit the black of his pupils, as he leveled his gaze on Micah. “Stop pushing her,” Alec growled.
“I’m only tr—”
Alec lunged, grabbing a hold of the front of Micah’s shirt, and propelled him into the side of the house in one swift motion. He hit so hard I suspected there to be a hole the size of Micah’s head punched through the siding.
With his nose nearly touching Micah’s, Alec snarled, “If Kris doesn’t want to do it, she doesn’t have to do it. Now, she might not do what I know she wants to do, because she’s a good girl, but I can promise you that I am not a good guy and I would have no problem knocking you out. In fact, I know I’ll enjoy it.”
With Alec and Micah staring each other down, only I saw the faint orange glow emitting from Alec’s clenched fist. He was conjuring fire—though a small one compared to what I’d created—and he didn’t even know it. Realizing he was close to not only beating, but combusting, Micah’s head, I stepped into the danger zone.
“Alec?” I said gently so as not to startle him.
His teeth gritted together with forced control. “What?”
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me, Alec.”
Standing beside and slightly between the two of them now, I could see what Micah saw, and it scared the hell out of me.
That spark in Alec’s eyes was now completely engulfed.
“Alec?” I tried again, and this time, his gaze drifted to meet mine.
The second his focus turned to me, the flames—both in his eyes and in his hand—extinguished, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “I need to take a walk,” I said to him. “Do you want to come with me?”
Alec’s eyes flicked back to Micah, who he still had pressed against the wall.
“We can argue over who wants to beat up Micah more,” I added with a grin that was only partly teasing when I tossed it in Micah’s direction.
With one final abrupt shove into the wall, Alec let go of Micah’s shirt. As he backed away, his eyes held mine, and he nodded slightly. “I need to get out of here,” he said gruffly.
I hesitated, watching as Alec bolted down the porch steps ahead of me, and wondered if he simply wanted to be left alone.
“Alec?” I called after him. He turned, hands stuffed in his pockets, and a small sad smile curling his lips. “Can I come with you?”
I was rewarded with a full-on grin. “Do you really have to ask?”
I joined him and we walked around the side of the house, to a quiet corner on the front porch. Just enough to separate us from Micah.
In the yard, Nathan and Callie were working on target practice, and the rumble of her shots reverberated through the crisp mountain air. Alec rested his elbows on the railing, appearing to watch them, but I saw the distant look in his eyes that meant he wasn’t really seeing what was in front of him.
“Alec, what’s going on?” I asked softly. “Aside from hating Micah?”
He scoffed. “I can’t stand him.”
“I’ve gathered that much, but what’s happening to you?” I hesitated, not sure if I should mention what I saw. Was Alec even aware of it?
“I don’t know, Kris,” he mumbled miserably. “I’ve been getting these impulses, this need to hurt someone, for a while now. I’ve been able to keep them under control, and fighting the Skotadi had helped alleviate some of it, but sometimes it hits me hard…”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Months. Worse the past few weeks. It might be Micah making it worse, I don’t know.”
I could understand that. Micah was supposed to be our enemy. There was a deeply rooted seed in both of us to dislike him. But while Micah claimed I had a connection to him that might prevent me from hurting him, Alec didn’t. It must be torture for him to be around someone he was created to hate.
“Does anything make it better?” I asked with a hopeful ring in my voice. I wanted there to be something, not just for Alec, but myself as well. If this was what I had to look forward to, I had to learn how to deal with it.
“This is helping,” Alec said. “Talking to you, being with you, helps.”
He turned to look at me then, and I smiled at the warmth in his eyes. Not because they were enflamed, but because I believed he truly viewed me as a bright spot on the dark horizon.
“I’ll be here,” I told him. “Next time you feel it, come find me, okay?”
He looked away with an indifferent nod. I grabbed his arm, forced him to meet my eyes. “I mean it, Alec. I want to help. Come find me.”
He gave me a smile that was painfully sad, and very uncharacteristic. “Yeah, Kris. I’ll find you.”
I suspected a double meaning to his words, but I couldn’t determine what it might be. Instead of pressing, I opted to just be there for Alec—without question, without trepidation—because I knew that was what he needed.
As we stood side by side, listening to Callie’s thundering gunshots echoing through the valley, I knew I was more determined now than ever to find a way to stop this. Not only for myself, but for Alec.
Especially for Alec.
I was so determined, I spent the rest of the afternoon reading Micah’s books, orienting myself to the world of Incantation. I’d secretly hoped to stumble upon some clue as to how the Skotadi were using it to manipulate Kala into turning Skotadi, but really, I just learned general information about where it originated and how it was used. After a few hours, I came to the conclusion that these books didn’t have what I needed.
Micah had said that different spells were used to achieve different results. I needed a book that focused on the spells, not superficial information and history. Maybe there was a spell out there that I could find and reproduce.
It was a long shot, but what alternatives did we have at this point? This was how t
hey did it, so this must be how we can undo it. If I was really capable of Incantation, if I was a descendent of the goddess of magic, then I could do it. Right?
There was only one way to find out. And that was to try.
I asked for a volunteer to go with me to the town library. It was the first place I thought of to start looking for the type of books I needed.
Micah jumped at the chance to drive me. Nathan promptly snuffed out Micah’s joy by saying that he would do it instead. I overlooked the grudging tone of his voice, and viewed it as a step in the right direction.
About halfway there, I reluctantly accepted that being alone in a car with Nathan for twenty minutes was not going to turn out as I would have hoped. He wasn’t into small talk. And quite frankly, with all the shit going on in my head, I wasn’t feeling up to it myself. So I confronted our problem head on.
“Are you going to be mad at me forever?” I asked him.
His eyes flicked to mine briefly before returning to the road. I might have been mistaken, but I swore there was a hint of a smile threatening to break through in there somewhere.
“You know why I didn’t tell you?” I asked, and continued when he didn’t respond, “Because of this. I knew you would look into it too much, exactly like you’re doing now.”
“Look into it too much?” His eyes were fixed on the road, but, at least, he was talking. “You’re acting like it’s nothing. In our world, dream sharers are a big deal. They’re soul mates.”
“Because that’s what you’ve been told?”
He shrugged. “It’s the way it is.”
“And what if I don’t want it?”
He smirked, actually smirked, and I felt a rush of heat start in the roots of my hair as my temper boiled. “When it comes to soul mates, I don’t think you get a choice,” he said.
“Just like I don’t get a choice about being a Skotadi, right?” I fired back. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and I knew I’d gotten through to him. Just a little. “You’re helping me fight that predestined path I’m supposed to be following without having a choice. You claim to believe I can fight it, but this? This you accept without question, without a fight?”
Sacrificed (The Ignited Series) Page 12