by Mia Marshall
The final pieces of the puzzle fell together, even as my own world shattered.
Chapter 22
I knew I needed to sleep. I knew my friends were expecting me home that evening and would be worried when I didn’t turn up. I knew that what I was about to do went to at least eleven on the stupidity meter. It didn’t matter. When my car hit the interstate and I was supposed to turn south, I went the other direction.
I arrived mid-afternoon. My home looked no different than it had three weeks earlier, and the knowledge that one thing in my life hadn’t changed was more comfort than any well-intentioned words my friends could have offered. I locked the front door behind me and climbed the stairs to my bedroom. I took off my shoes and jeans, then slipped between the jersey sheets, sighing at the welcome one can only find in their own bed after a long time away.
During the drive home, I’d kept the panic at bay by refusing to consider what Trent had shown me. I stared fixedly at the road and sang loudly along with the radio, not letting my brain wander beyond the confines of the car. My only thought had been of home, of the front porch with its crooked supports, the wooden bench, and the solitude. I held the image of my home in my mind, a visual mantra. It became my prayer for the last hundred miles, the only thing I was asking for in this world. Peace. Control. Home. Because if what he’d demonstrated meant what I feared it did, those things were crumbling away from me.
Maybe his magic had nothing to do with me. Maybe his and Brian’s madness was just an unlikely coincidence. Maybe my problems were completely separate from what had scarred them both. I told myself that, and didn’t believe it. The moment I had seen Trent hold out first one hand, then the other, and call his magic, I knew the truth about who I was with a sharp, brittle clarity.
I felt the horror creeping relentlessly toward me and curled into a tight ball. “No,” I whispered. “No.” Thick tears fell in rivers down my cheeks, and still I refused to think about what I had seen. I insisted that my stubbornness work for me this time, and in the battle between panic and exhaustion, exhaustion finally triumphed. I was dragged toward the sweet oblivion of sleep, and I happily surrendered.
Night had descended by the time I awoke, and the room was shrouded in shadow. Outside my window, I heard the typical nighttime sounds of a country spring. Crickets sang, with the occasional frog providing bass accompaniment. The long grass rustled. I reached my magic beyond the house, feeling for the small pond, bloated from the winter’s rains. I sent the water rippling, a brief hello, and withdrew. Everything seemed safe and quiet, and there was no reason for my absolute certainty that I was no longer alone.
I slid quietly out of bed and pulled on my jeans. Every movement seemed to echo loudly in my ears. I sidestepped down the hallway, back tight to the wall, and crept slowly down the stairs, avoiding all the squeaky steps. I knew every floorboard and beam in this house, and no one could sneak around it better than I, but it didn’t really matter. Halfway down the stairs, it became clear that whoever was in my kitchen was making no attempt to disguise his presence. He seemed to know I’d been expecting him.
I padded down the hallway in my stocking feet. As I approached the kitchen, I was hit by waves of scent that made me gag. It was a smell that made most humans and carnivores salivate, but not one I ever expected to find in my kitchen. I peered around the corner, seeing a man’s back standing by the stove, tending a pan of sizzling bacon.
“I know you’re there, Aidan,” Brian’s voice was the mild, easygoing tone I knew so well. “Have a seat. I’m making breakfast. Or dinner. Definitely one or the other. I figured you’d be hungry after sleeping so long.”
I’d made no plan beyond luring Brian to me and away from the others, and for the first time it occurred to me that formulating my plan while shocked and sleep deprived might have been a poor choice. As much as I needed the certainty he could provide, it didn’t change the fact that I was now alone with an unstable murderer. Brian stood between me and the kitchen door, but the front door was still an option if I wanted to run. I knew I was faster than he was, but I was also on my own, with erratic control and an unpredictable opponent who understood his powers far better than I did. I crossed to the kitchen table and sat.
“Good, good. I really don’t want to fight with you, Aidan. I’m only here to talk, to have that conversation we were going to have the other night.” He made no mention of the reason we’d been interrupted. To hear him tell it, he’d needed to take a phone call, rather than attempt to murder my best friend. “But you came here, didn’t you? Alone. You wanted me to find you.”
He was pleased by the thought that I wanted to see him. That was good. As much as I wanted to scream at him, to pummel him with my fists until he was bloody and begging for mercy, I knew I’d never get information that way. He needed to believe I chose to be here. My acting skills being what they were, I was counting on his capacity for self-delusion.
Glancing at the wall clock, I quickly calculated how much time had passed. It was nearly midnight, and Sera would be expecting me back by now. Even if she figured out where I’d gone and left Tahoe immediately, she would not be here until morning. I had hours to convince Brian to share his knowledge.
I forced myself to look at him, to see the friend I’d loved for years in addition to the monster that lurked inside him. “You said we needed to talk. I want to hear what you have to say.”
He crossed to the table, iron skillet in hand, and lifted scrambled eggs and bacon onto my plate. I felt the bile rise as the smell hit my nose anew, but succeeded in keeping my face impassive.
“You know I don’t really eat meat.” I spoke quietly and without judgment. This was not the time to rile up the crazy, no matter how much rage boiled just beneath the skin, waiting for release. The scent wafting from my plate reminded me how far I was from the Brian I thought I knew, even as he behaved exactly like my old friend.
He gave me a look of mock exasperation. “You also didn’t eat bok choy until I cooked it for you. Give it a try.” He rummaged through the cupboards. “Look, I understand wanting to live away from people, but no highballs? That is uncivilized.” The contents of the freezer did not improve his opinion of my housekeeping. “And no vodka? It’s like I barely knew you.”
It was surreal to watch him putter around my kitchen. He was so confident of our continuing bond and friendship. He gave no indication he’d ever attacked me or Sera.
“There’s some bourbon above the fridge.” I pushed my food around the plate, trying to hide the bacon.
With a triumphant shout, he grabbed the bottle and brought it to the table, two chipped mugs in his other hand. He poured healthy slugs into each cup, then held his hand over mine, waiting for my confirmation. Mutely, I shook my head. Normally, I would want ice, but right then I didn’t want even the smallest contact with Brian’s magic. If things went the way I needed them to go, I’d be seeing it soon enough.
He shrugged and forged several cubes for his own drink. No longer restrained by his desire to appear less powerful, he formed perfect shards of ice, toothpick thin and remarkably delicate. The last piece was longer and sturdier, a sharpened spear. With this, he stabbed a piece of bacon, bringing it to his mouth. He waited expectantly for me to do the same.
I took a small bite of eggs. Because it had never been conscious, I had no strong reaction to it, other than my typical dislike of eggs. The bacon was another matter. The moment it touched my lips, I saw the pig’s life in short bursts. An open pen, litter mates, warm mud, plentiful food. It had been a nice life, until the end. Memories of blood and weakness assaulted my mind, and I felt fear consume me before being rapidly extinguished, leaving me with nothing but a painful sense of nothing where once there had been a life.
Although I needed to keep my mind sharp around Brian, I grabbed the mug and took a long gulp, swirling the bourbon around my mouth as if I could remove the memory along with the taste.
Brian shrugged, unbothered. “It was worth a try. It does get
easier. After a while, you even learn to appreciate their lives and their deaths. After all, they died so that you can thrive. There are few acts so noble.”
I wasn’t certain that we were still talking about the pig. I pushed the plate away and brought the mug to my lips again, this time faking a small sip, trying to buy myself some time. “So, what did you want to tell me?”
“Have you really not guessed?”
I did my best to think innocent thoughts. Kittens. Rainbows. Rainbow kittens. Anything to keep him from seeing that I’d already guessed his secret. Based on everything he’d said to me before, at the cabin and even a decade ago in the warehouse, he wanted to believe his knowledge would astound me and open a wondrous new world. If he knew that I lived in dread of what he was about to tell me, it would steal his thunder… and likely his plans for our glorious lives together as psychotic elemental killing machines. If ever there was a time for me to pull off an inscrutable face, this was it.
“Tell me,” I said.
He stood and held out his hand to me. I took it and felt his fingers clamp around my own, the hold one of possession rather than assistance. He led me to the front porch, to the very spot where Sera first found me. It was a clear night, the sky dotted with endless stars. “Still no air elementals,” I murmured, deliberately evoking the last time just the two of us had been together, easy friends. Keep him relaxed, keep him trusting. Let him never guess at the fury that paced within me, awaiting its turn.
Brian followed my gaze. “A shame, isn’t it? Just imagine the world they could be a part of.” He shrugged off the wistfulness that had crept into his voice. “Have a seat, my lady,” he said, grandly indicating the bench.
I obeyed, wondering how he would reveal himself. It was important to him that I know what he was, and that I react positively to the revelation. I expected him to savor the telling.
The moment he felt my attention fix on him, he used his right hand to draw ice from the air, shaping one rose after another until he had a dozen glimmering flowers. The entire process took minutes. He sent the flowers gently my way with a gallant bow. I knew that refusal was not an option and so gathered the gift to me, ignoring the chill that coated my hand.
“But you need something to hold the flowers, don’t you?”
His left hand moved in a steady, powerful motion, sweeping through the air. A moment later, I heard the rumble. Even though I had been prepared for it, had expected this ever since Trent had shown me his power, I did not have to fake the shock that crossed my face. What I saw went against everything I had ever known.
And Brian was more powerful than I had ever anticipated. Unlike Trent, whose magic use was limited by his situation, Brian clearly practiced.
Slowly, steadily, the earth moved in graceful waves. It pulsed its way toward me, flowing easily toward the porch and winding its way slowly up the steps. It stopped by the bench, and a section of the earth rose slowly, forming itself into a tall, narrow vase, the perfect receptacle for the roses. The effort to hold that much dry earth in place should have been tremendous, even for a half earth. Brian was grinning, showing no sign of any stress.
I stared at him, trying to find any words that would satisfy him. He seemed to think my silence eloquent enough, my shock everything he had hoped for. “Aidan Brook, I do believe the old ones neglected to tell us something. It turns out my father gave me something a bit more interesting than a pocket watch, after all.”
I pointed at the vase. “That’s…”
“It is indeed.”
“And you are…”
“Something of an anomaly? It would appear so.”
“And you are telling me this because…?”
The darkness crossed his face, there and gone in a second, but now that I knew to look for it, the frustration was obvious. He still wanted more from me, and I had no idea how much further his patience would stretch. “Because you need to know. You need to understand.”
I’d confirmed my suspicions, and though I’d expected no less, I was still disappointed that Brian hadn’t simply been a really crazy ice. This was all too complicated. I needed time. Preferably, time spent on a deserted beach with an inexhaustible supply of rum, but I would settle for time away from Brian. My car was mere feet away, the keys still in the ignition where I’d left them. “Show me again.”
He grinned, and this time manipulated the ice and earth simultaneously, showing off. I waited for the moment his attention was wholly on the power, and I ordered the pond to ensnare him. There was no water in this world I knew more intimately. Every molecule, every bit of life it held, I had played with over the years. It responded instantly, swarming Brian, wrapping around him in a blinding sheet. If he froze it, he would only trap himself.
I was sprinting for the car before his first cry of anger. I launched myself into the driver’s seat, fumbling for the keys and thinking three steps ahead to the safest route I could take back to Tahoe.
The keys were not there.
It was miles to the nearest house, but I was instantly outside the car and sprinting down the drive, aiming for a copse of trees near the road that could provide cover. I never made it. A foot of earth rose before me. I attempted to hurdle it, but it rose with me, catching me around the waist and pulling me to the ground, winded and gasping.
I heard feet approaching, making an unexpected squelching sound with each step. Where Brian had stood, there was now a mud pit. The earth had swallowed all the water I’d used to trap him. His clothing was covered in long streaks of mud, his face marked and savage. With each step, he drew the earth away from his body, separating the mud into its distinct parts and freeing himself to take powerful, quick strides to me. I scrambled backwards desperately, even as I knew there was no escape.
He crouched down before me, eyes even with my own. “Will you just stop running, already? You aren’t supposed to run. You are the one person who is supposed to understand, Aidan. You know me.”
Staring into the deranged face pleading with me to see him clearly, I was quite certain I’d never met this stranger who’d been lurking inside Brian for years. I froze, prey caught in a reptile’s eyes, and waited for him to strike.
Instead, he smiled and stroked one hand gently down my cheek. “It doesn’t matter. There’s time. We belong together, and soon you’ll realize that, too.” With no further warning, I felt the horribly familiar pressure of ice coiling around my throat. “Go to sleep, my Aidan. Tomorrow, we leave to start our life together.” He pressed lips to my forehead as my oxygen slowly fled, and I descended into unconsciousness.
I awoke to a clear morning, but my head felt muddied. A slight headache pulsed in the back of my skull, and bleariness clouded my vision. Moving a hand to brush the hair away from my face, I found myself immobile, hands stretched out to the side and tied to the bed frame. A quick struggle revealed that I wouldn’t be freeing myself anytime soon.
“Shhh.” Warm hands gently smoothed my hair, tucked it behind my ears. I relaxed into the touch for a moment, before the events of the prior day flooded my mind.
I felt as if I sat up with a shot, though given the restraints and my fuzzy brain, the reality was closer to me raising my head an inch or two. “What did you give me?” The words emerged from my mouth sluggish and slurred.
“Just a little something I whipped up over the course of my adventures in pharmacology. It keeps magic close to an elemental’s body, which makes you a bit more… predictable. It’s only a temporary measure, and it’s safe. I promise.”
Somehow, I needed to gain his trust again. “I want to understand, Brian.” My tongue felt too large for my mouth, and I had to force the words through rubbery lips. “Why did you kill them?”
“To get your attention, of course. You had forgotten all about me, up here in the middle of nowhere. We only found out where you were recently, otherwise I would have tried to reach you sooner.” He was actually pouting.
We? I still had no idea how Sera had found me in the first p
lace, but I needed to finish this conversation before looking for other answers. “No, ten years ago.”
“Oh, that was so long ago. Do we really need to talk about that?” He gently ran a wet cloth over my face. I managed to nod my head, wincing at the throbbing caused by the small movement. “Very well. But only because you asked nicely. I was jealous, okay?”
“But…” My thought was too complex to articulate, but he quickly understood.
“Yes, I know you weren’t serious any of them. But they were human. Stupid, pathetic, short-lived humans, and you kept dating them. One after the other. Never any elementals. Why weren’t we good enough for you?” He looked oddly bashful, a young man flirting with the schoolgirl he adored. “I just wanted to scare you off dating humans. It worked, too. But instead of dating your own kind, you ran away and didn’t date anyone. Ten years I’ve been waiting to find you again.”
It was so simple, and yet I didn’t believe a word. He had killed those people because he enjoyed killing, and any feelings he claimed to have for me were his flimsy excuse. I was almost certain he’d continued to kill during the last decade. Perhaps he hadn’t flaunted his murders as blatantly as he did when sending his message, perhaps he’d quietly given people heart attacks in their homes, but someone who loved his power as much as Brian did would never have allowed it to lie dormant for so long. I expected my anger to rise again at that thought, but all I felt was exhaustion. Whatever drugs he’d given me were doing their best to deliver me to oblivion.
There was more he wanted to say, but before he could conjure the nerve, car tires crunched on the driveway below. Brian moved to the window, surprise evident on his face. I tried not to smile, but I wasn’t sure how successful I was. Despite my best efforts to stay awake, I felt myself drift off, the potion that lingered in my bloodstream pulling me away. It was okay, though. I could sleep. The cavalry was here.