Illumination

by M. V. Freeman

  Mina knew, with a surety of years of observation and knowledge, that if Xander could stand, was even half-way rested, Lev would have a fight on his hands. She wasn’t happy about this circumstance, but she could appreciate the benefit, no matter how twisted.

  “I don’t know shit,” Xander spat. “But if you want to talk about it, be my guest. You’re running the show.”

  “You can explain that to Petrov and Voda. You two need to get the hell out of here before I’m detected.” Lev turned his attention back to Mina. She was torn between finding out about the humans and what her brother had done to help them. Her brother won.

  “What about you?” Mina protested again. Her beautiful brother would be scarred again and forever shunned by the Dark clans. Breaking an oath was serious business, and this was his second offense.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Lev said, dismissing her concern. “Prepare your incantation, and remember to focus on your blood-tie.” He bent his head and began to murmur words in Romanian, so soft that even with her hearing they were just brushes of sound with no meaning.

  Setting the small bag of medications on Xander’s shoulder, she clutched the package for Rachel in one arm and put a gentle hand on his torn chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “You can do it,” Xander told her. He wasn’t happy about having to leave this way; she felt it like a bad aftertaste in her throat. This was the only option. It wasn’t like Cazacul or any Dark would let him leave by the front door or any door. He knew this and supported her.

  “Thank you.” She then began to softly chant a Mage spell, this one in Latin, the blood she’d ingested reinvigorated her and rippling along her nerve endings, calling up the magic she carried. Her fatigue still tugged at her. Another voice, low, matched her words.

  She didn’t stop, but her eyes flew open. He murmured those words, his dark-blue eyes fastened on her. Mina shook her head.

  No. It would take too much from him.

  He didn’t stop.

  Damn him.

  “Focus, Mina,” Lev said in a strained voice behind her. “The wards are almost open. Hurry now.”

  Mina shut her eyes and concentrated, the energy building up around them, getting closer. The edges of the wards receded. The transport spell knitted together. She thought of Laurie, her red hair and green eyes.

  There is a moment just before a spell is released when a breath can be drawn. Mina did so and turned to give one last look at her brother.

  Lev’s dark hair fell around his face, his strong features were set in determined lines, and his black eyes glinted with a power she didn’t know he’d possessed. His arms were out raised as he finished his spell. His mouth twisted in a half smile.

  “Good luck, little sister. Tell Rachel I’ll return her purse myself, and to enjoy the masterpiece, because I won’t be much to look at later.”

  Mina almost faltered. His payment for her and Xander to leave was going to be great, but she wouldn’t dishonor his gift by failing. No. She’d succeed, and one day, she’d return the favor.

  The last words were uttered. The wards didn’t weaken, nor open a little. They fell with a thunderous wave of energy, rolling over all of them.

  Power. Her brother was as powerful as Cazacul.

  Oh no.

  Mina finished her spell, and the strange yanking sensation of the transportation jerked them from the dungeon. Her vision blurred as she tried to keep her mind on Laurie. But she needn’t have worried. The blood tie was stronger than the both of them.

  She wasn’t prepared for the shriek as they appeared in a room so brightly lit, it made Mina cringe. The vertigo continued for a few more seconds, but she couldn’t miss the accented voice of Mikhail Petrov.

  “It’s good of you to finally join us, Mina. I hope he’s dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  LEV HADN’T PREPARED MINA for the searing brightness she and Xander had landed into. The color was white-hot to her dark-sensitized eyes. She covered them, peeking between her fingers at who surrounded them. The large form of Mikhail Petrov loomed over her. She couldn’t make out his features, but she felt him—the emotions he carried were always sharp and overwhelming. Right now she tasted rage and dangerous violence. The fizzle and snap of it in her mouth reminded her of the pop-rock candy she used to eat as a child. On the plush carpet beside her lay Xander. The horrific wounds, terrible in the dungeon, were appalling in the unforgiving light of day. Some were bleeding freely, others were not, but the pale pink of muscle could be seen.

  A low guttural sound came from Xander. She turned to grasp the plastic bag at his shoulder. She’d forgotten about the package she’d taken from her brother to give to Rachel, and she dropped it with an ominous crack. Anxiety wound itself along her spine as she told her eyes to adjust. Blinking didn’t seem to help.

  “Gregori, take this Mage trash out of here,” Mikhail complained. “He is bleeding on my carpet.”

  “Please, you have to help him.” Mina turned toward the Russian’s voice. “He’ll stop bleeding then.” To her, this was a logical point, since it appeared he was very concerned about this rug. She didn’t understand the man.

  “Misha, please.”

  A familiar voice and the clean taste of apples. Laurie. She wasn’t sure if she was urging him to assist Xander or to calm down.

  The brilliant emotions in the room rolled over Mina. After days and days in the dungeon with exposure only to the deepest inhabitants of the Dark who exhibited very little emotion but hunger, it was famine to feast, and nausea was the result.

  “What kind of monsters did this?” Rachel said, her voice harsh. She’d never really accepted Mina, carrying with her a prejudice of the Darks even Nicki, as a Mage, didn’t hold.

  Mina blinked, her eyes clearing. Her first clear visual was the blond-haired witch kneeling next to Xander as he began to twitch his arms and legs. Desire to get up emanated from him strongly enough to make Mina want to reassure him. She did so by touching his fingers with a light sweep from hers.

  He quieted. He’d poured far more of what little was left of him to help her in the transport spell. They were both lucky he wasn’t a dried out husk now—the result of all magic and energy pulled from one of their kind.

  “Not monsters, Rachel. War,” Mina answered, surprising herself when the hot press of tears welled in her eyes. “It was my fault. All of it.”

  “Bullshit. It’s mine,” Nicki said as she came to stand by her. “If I hadn’t been such a pathetic Mage, you wouldn’t have had to go get the books.”

  Guilt added to Mina’s nausea.

  “You’re all to blame,” Mikhail interrupted. “Mina, you will break the blood-tie. I am not concerned about this man. He can rot in a cell here.”

  Again the viciousness, but it was layered with something else…protectiveness. He was worried.

  “No,” Mina told him, crouching next to Xander. The transportation had taken a toll on him because he’d insisted in helping her with the spell. “He was your friend.”

  “Who tried to have us killed,” Laurie reminded her.

  She kept her hand on Mikhail’s arm, and again Mina wasn’t sure if it was to keep him back or for moral support. Their bond muddied their emotions at times, and Mina was hard pressed to pick them out even with the blood-tie with Laurie.

  “He made his choice,” Mikhail bit out in a cold voice. He pulled Laurie closer to Mina, and her red-haired friend recoiled, nose wrinkling. He pointed to the scars on Laurie’s face, the same ones on her own. “And your choices are hurting Laurie. You will break this blood tie.”

  “Not before she takes a bath,” Laurie told him. “I agree; I want this gone. But…Mina, honey, when was the last time you saw soap?”

  Mina supposed embarrassment was the correct response to this inquiry, but as she looked at her dirt-stained hands, ripped jeans, and stiff shirt, she agreed. She did need to wash. So did Xander. All he had left of his expensive clothes was the stained and foul-smelling shr
edded pants he wore. It wasn’t like she was going to find comfort when he lived in hell. It wasn’t right.

  Locking her eyes on Laurie and Mikhail, she spoke in a quiet, low tone, wishing she could consume their emotions, but the nausea was too great. She hadn’t felt this way since she’d eaten half a chocolate cake by herself as a teen. Great comfort at the time, but she paid for it for hours later. It had to be the plethora of emotions.

  “If you kill him, I won’t break the blood-tie.” She made her voice as hard as possible, which wasn’t very hard at all. Short of growling, she wasn’t sure how to get her point across.

  They stiffened. Good. She’d managed to get their attention.

  “He can help you. You’ll need it,” she continued.

  “You make demands?” Any trace of charm Mikhail carried was gone.

  He stood before her, his eyes shifting from one color to the next. Behind her, she heard the shuffle of footsteps and brush of fabric as Rachel tugged Nicki backward. What was he going to do? Maybe that’s what she needed to remember: what he could do. Now she wished she could retreat. Petrov may not have his elements, but he still scared her—just a little.

  “You’ve fucked up everything by this blood-tie. You will fix this,” Mikhail demanded.

  In her effort to stand her ground, she’d managed to piss him off. She hadn’t seen him this angry since Cazacul and he fought, the night she created the blood-tie with Laurie.

  “Misha.” Laurie pulled away from him.

  Mina wondered if she was giving him clearance to attack or trying to find a place downwind of her. Her friend’s emotions were wavering. How could this be? With the blood tie, it should be clearer, not so fuzzy between them.

  “I won’t let her until she’s clean. And, we can’t afford to have a Mage die here. Not yet. Let’s break the blood-tie and then decide what to do.”

  What Mina could discern hung in the air, thick like the fog she loved to play in. Distrust, it was dry and scratchy, and the taste of it made Mina’s heart ache. They didn’t trust Xander, not that she could blame them. But didn’t they see what she saw? There was something else under the Mage persona they needed to recognize. For a long moment, she racked her brain. What could she give them in order to get the care he needed? All she had was herself.

  “I will give you my service if you help him,” Mina told them.

  The slight lift in Mikhail’s brow told her he understood what she meant. Laurie still carried an indistinct flavor.

  “I don’t need a Dark,” he said, his answer clipped.

  “You had Kian,” Mina replied. “He was a Dark and an Elemental.”

  “End the tie. We’ll talk,” he told her coldly. With a sharp gesture, he indicated a dark-haired man. “Gregori, take him to a guest room. Bring a healer.” His gaze skewered Mina. “I don’t do this for you. If he lives, he still has a price to pay. I don’t have time for a Mage war right now.”

  This was good to know.

  “Okay.” Mina knew her lips curled up in a smile. She would convince Xander this was a good thing.

  As Gregori made a motion to a few other Elementals to help carry the inert Mage, she picked up the brown wrapped package and handed it to the silent Rachel behind her.

  “Here, my brother wanted you to have it. He’s feeling guilty and will give you your purse back. He promised.”

  The thought of him brought a lump to her throat. She knew what price he faced, but she couldn’t tell them this. No. It was his story to tell.

  “I don’t want this.” Rachel tried to push it back at her, but Mina let go.

  “That’s your gift. Not mine.” Mina held the plastic bag of medicines. These vials were more important to her right now. “He said it’s something beautiful to look at…” Her voice stopped working. She couldn’t add the last bit about how he wouldn’t be fit to look upon. Her friend didn’t notice the lapse.

  “You can at least open it,” Nicki told Rachel, curiosity lighting up her brown eyes. “Don’t you want to know?”

  “I do.” Laurie moved around Mina to stand next to the two other women. “Mina, your brother is a very interesting person.”

  “I want my purse, not this.” Rachel was being very stubborn, but inquisitiveness grew in her. Mina tasted the green flavor of fresh vines as they climbed a trellis.

  “He is…” Mina kept an eye on Xander as they began to maneuver him, forced to use some Elemental power to lift him. “…very scary.” The image of him commanding the magic of the Darks made her shiver. Lev had been keeping his own secrets.

  “Scary? How? I found him annoying.” Rachel’s acerbic comment came over the loud rip of paper.

  “I’m with Mina; he can be unnerving.” Nicki rubbed her forehead as she spoke. It made Mina wonder just how her brother delivered those books to her friend. She’d ask later.

  Mina trailed after Xander as he was carried toward the office door.

  Rachel gasped.

  “That is an amazing likeness of the Mona Lisa,” Nicki observed. “It looks like the real thing, but the frame is cracked here. Too bad.”

  “It is the Mona Lisa,” Mina told them as she passed. This she knew for sure. He never, ever gave replicas. He left them in place of the real ones. Sometimes. They didn’t have to know that.

  “What?” Rachel and Laurie said in unison. Nicki said nothing. The emotion from her was resigned, flat. She’d obviously been around Lev enough to know this was possible.

  “Yes, it’s real. I suggest you find a nice place to put it up,” Mina said in a cheerful voice.

  She gave them all a five-fingered wave as she walked out of the room, leaving behind the nauseating roil of emotions. Most of them were now filled with shock and awe, but still Mikhail emanated violence because it followed her like a snake, stalking its prey.

  She better take a quick shower.

  These were mummies.

  Poppy stared at the row of eight bodies. They were smaller than the ones she’d examined before crumbling to dust. According to the bone structures, they were young. Their estimated ages ranged from eight to fifteen. Three were male, the other five female. The skin was cracked and emaciated as if they’d been dried out in some sort of Egyptian mummification process. Touching them made the skin flake, but not become dust. Their hair was all gray or white, deviating from the adult bodies she’d tested. Those had varying colors, from gray on the older woman to glossy black on one of the monstrous ones.

  Strange.

  “Where did you find them?” She directed this to John Bradford, who stood off to the side, watching as she and another scientist assessed the find.

  John had become her shadow in the last few days. She was never truly alone except in the toilet, and she wondered if it was monitored. Her new home wasn’t the plush hotel she’d been in originally but a cot in one of dozens of tents, all empty except hers and guarded. She didn’t miss the barbed concertino wire or the soldiers and dogs walking the perimeter. For her protection, she was told.

  No. She was a prisoner.

  “Does it matter?” he responded in a tight voice.

  Poppy lifted her head to look at his impassive demeanor. He’d perfected the poker face. But she’d been around him long enough to pick up his tells—how he’d rock back and forth on the balls of his feet, like he was now.

  “Sure it does. The clothes these bodies are wearing aren’t indicative of poverty or being one of the many lost or homeless.” She pointed to one female next to the one she examined. “Those are New Religion jeans.” At his so-what expression, she added, “These cost about three hundred dollars, and I’ve been coveting them for months. Who mummifies wealthy kids and we don’t know about it?”

  As the words left her mouth, she knew she sounded ridiculous. She wasn’t talking about humans, but something else. Beings that didn’t care if they took out a city block or if their children were mummified.

  “They were found in a shallow grave in an old landfill in West Virginia.” He supplied the
information reluctantly. “They were stumbled upon by some misguided treasure hunters with some high-grade metal detectors. When the authorities saw the strange teeth, they were scanned. They came up positive for the parameters you set.”

  Was it her imagination, or was his tone accusatory when he said “you”?

  “That was fast.” Poppy couldn’t ignore the flutter of unease in her chest. It had been only a few days, a week or so.

  “We need to be on this,” John told her. He checked his watch. “I have a security briefing in fifteen minutes. Fill me in on what you find when I return.” He nodded to a soldier stationed at the door who stepped inside, M-16 held casually in his arms.

  She’d grown used to the guns and the guards, but not the stony-faced distrust they all exhibited. Pressing her lips together, Poppy fought the urge to ask when she’d be released. Who would’ve thought her link to her family’s old ways of herbal healing would be called into question? It wasn’t the drug-dealing her cousins dabbled in. No, this was an old-fashioned Salem hysteria of anything even hinting at strangeness.

  One step at time.

  “Scott, let’s take a bit of the skin and then some bones,” she suggested to her fellow scientist, who moved unobtrusively about the lab as she bent her head to her task. She told herself she was being silly. Everyone was nervous about finding a new species.

  Later, after spending ten hours bent over a microscope, Poppy was happy to head to her cot in the sea of empty tents. The soldier escorting her for “safety” followed, matching her tired footsteps. As she passed through the check point into the compound of empty tents, she slowed. Her tent was to the right, but two tents away from hers, a light shone. The flap of the tent opened, and a woman in her thirties stepped out and froze.

  Behind Poppy, she heard the sharp metallic click of a lock being flipped into place. She whirled around. More soldiers patrolled. Not the one or two—it had been upgraded to five.