by Theresa Kay
And shifting through the wreckage is another consciousness beside my own. Slimy. Snake-like. Jastren.
I refuse to let him stay and rub salt into the extensive wounds he created. I pounce onto that slender red thread, grip it with my mind, and strain to break it.
Ah, Jasmine…
His voice makes me ill. I squeeze his connection to Jace tighter.
It appears you have learned more than I expected. I am impressed.
I will strangle it. I will kill it. He’ll never touch my brother again.
And your strength… .remarkable.
It’s not working. Jastren is fully embedded in my brother’s mind, his roots so deep I’m terrified to rip them out. But there has to be a way to break his hold. Maybe from the other end. I latch on to Jastren’s thread and follow it back to its source.
Now this has him worried. I can tell. Jastren places block after block, but I easily overcome them, one after the other, until I stumble onto the surface of his mind, accidentally releasing the connection to Jace on my way in.
Jastren isn’t trying to shut me out anymore—maybe because he thinks he already did. His mind hasn’t reacted to my presence, and I drift carefully to avoid his attention. I suck in a breath of surprise. His mind is fragmented too. Not as bad as Jace’s, but there’s clearly damage, and some of it is older than me. The shikiza must have done this.
What was he like before the shikiza? Was he ever good? Did he have redeeming qualities? Was he ever… like Jace? Curiosity has me searching for the answers, traveling deeper and deeper into his consciousness. But if the answers are there, I can’t find them. His mind is shaded in a darkness made of anger, hate, and a desire for vengeance. That’s all there is to Jastren anymore.
I pull back, determined to get rid of whatever connection he has to my brother. Jastren is beyond redemption. But maybe Jace isn’t.
It feels like hours pass before I find something, a tiny red thread hidden in the back of his mind, one that pulses Jace’s name. That’s the one. And from this end, it’s stupidly easy. A quick tug, and Jace’s thread floats away and disappears. I smile as I watch it go.
But now… the way I came in is gone.
I’m lost. I’m stuck.
I’m trapped.
I panic, thrashing against the boundaries of Jastren’s mind. It doesn’t help.
I need to calm the hell down and figure this out. Start with breathing… or the mental equivalent. In and out. In and out. This happened with Vitrad too, but I doubt Jastren is going to be kind enough to guide me back like Vitrad did. I need to do it on my own.
Who else would Jastren be connected to? Who else could help me? Of course, Vitrad. Lir’s uncle might be able to block him out now, but that doesn’t mean the connection isn’t still in place somehow. I race along the surface, desperately searching for the shine of gold.
What if it’s not here? What if he broke it?
Just as my panic’s ramping up again, a metallic glint catches my eye. Thin, fragile, and weak, but definitely a golden connection. I grab it and start crawling along it. There. I can almost see the barrier between Jastren’s mind and the open world. As long as I get past that, I can find my way back.
The tip of my consciousness brushes against the edge of Jastren’s, and his mind suddenly clamps down on mine. I keep my grip on Vitrad’s thread—barely—and hold on with everything I am.
Not so fast, little bird. Were you planning to leave without saying goodbye? He makes a tsking noise. I see you have severed my connection to your brother. No matter. I believe he may have outlived his usefulness to me anyway. So powerful, but too easily burned out. It is a shame really, but I will be more careful with my next subject. In the meantime… perhaps I shall finally set some connections with you.
Blade-like threads slice into me like tiny needles, hitting me from every angle. As soon as I shake one off, another burrows its way into my mind. I scream and thrash and bat them away, but it’s useless. They just keep coming. He’s never going to let me go.
That is correct.
No. There has to be a way. There has to. There has to…
The shield. I can block his attack and then follow the golden thread out of here. My hold on Vitrad’s thread hasn’t faltered, so I focus on it and use it to once again learn the feeling of the shield I need. It comes much easier the second time around, and I wrap it around myself, shattering the brittle connections Jastren has managed to implant. His mental scream of rage echoes around me as I barrel my way out of his mind using the golden thread as a guide.
“JAX.”
My sister’s name is the first word on my lips when my eyes flutter open. I know what she did. I can feel the difference. My mind is my own for now, but the pain in my head scrambles my thoughts, scrambles my words, so I can only repeat her name again.
Her friend—Rym—hovers over me, misplaced concern for me written on his face. “She helped. You’re okay now.”
No. No. No. I shake my head, the motion rattling my brain and making me flinch. “Not. Okay.”
He squeezes my hand. “Just relax.”
Confusion steals the words I need, and frustration tenses my jaw. The room spins. I close my eyes against the sight of the swirling ceiling. My thoughts are disjointed and disconnected, fleeting floating things I can’t seem to get a solid grip on. But there’s…
“Not. Okay.” This time I manage to put those two words with the third I need. “Jax.”
I open my eyes again, meeting golden ones in a plea for understanding, comprehension, knowing.
My plea is answered as his eyes narrow in thought and then widen in realization. “Jax isn’t okay? Something’s wrong with her?”
My nod is punctuated with a slow breath of relief. The room takes another spin, but I force my eyes to stay open, force myself to pull more words from the mire of my mind. “Trapped. Too much. Can’t… can’t… get rid of it.”
He sends a glance over his shoulder to his sister and the other E’rikon. They’re here too. Maybe they’ll understand. I shove myself up onto my elbows.
“She needs help.” Things are clearer, words closer to the surface and easier to retrieve. “She needs help now. Someone… please.”
Rym’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Lir is with her. He’ll know—”
“He’s not! She’s alone.” In this moment, I don’t much care what the green-haired E’rikon is to Jax, I despise him for leaving her alone. For leaving her hurting. I don’t know what happened, but I felt the block Jax put on their bond. And he’s not there. He’s not with her. My twin is alone, on the ground, in the cold, with wave after wave of my darkness crashing over her. “I can’t pull it back. I tried.”
Frustration burns my eyes. Time is running out, and he doesn’t understand. And I’m doing a piss-poor job of trying to explain.
I place my hand over Rym’s. “Look!”
I don’t give him a chance to move away. I pull him into my mind and let him see, let him feel where Jax is and what’s happening to her. It only takes a second or two, but exhaustion rolls over me when I release him from my mental hold.
The color has left his face and he looks like he might be sick. He’s clearly shaken. “I… I… could have contacted her on my own.”
He wants to debate telepathic etiquette right now? “There’s no time,” I hiss through my teeth.
He shakes himself. “Yes. You are correct. Sorry.” Hopping to his feet, he holds out a hand to assist me.
I take it, though I almost pull him back down when my legs threaten to give out. Leaning against the wall, I pause for a moment with my eyes closed, trying to convince my body it’s functional enough to walk. It has to be. I drag my hand down my face and give my head a brisk shake. “Let’s go.”
Rym looks me up and down. “No offense, but you look like a soft breeze would blow you over. Are you sure you’re up to this?”
I give him a hard stare. “I’ll survive. Or I won’t. I don’t really give a crap. I’m goi
ng to my sister. Are you coming or not?”
A curt nod and a brief mental exchange with his sister and her guard, and he’s following me out the door and down the stairs.
We burst past the main door and onto the sidewalk. And that’s when I remember the other three men. It will waste precious minutes, but I can’t leave them here to wake up and go in after their comrades.
“Do you have a weapon?” I ask.
Rym hands me the guard’s blade without asking why. Perfect. It’ll be quiet and quick. It’s not until I stalk over to the first prone form that he speaks up.
“What are you doing?”
“This is the rest of the team. I left them alive thinking… I don’t know… that there’d be less blood on my hands? But if we leave them here…”
He gives me a slight nod. Thank God. I don’t have the energy to argue about this. Or the time.
One by one, I slit their throats, letting their blood soak into the ground. They never wake. Part of me wishes they had. Men like that… they don’t deserve the peace and mercy of a quick and painless death.
It takes too many steps and too many seconds to reach the other side of the base, every one of which I’m clinging to my connection to Jax and begging her to hold on just a little longer. Finally, there’s a splash of red between two buildings, and I run the last few blocks to kneel at my sister’s side. Rym’s right behind me, and his face loses even more color when he sees the state she’s in.
Jax’s arms and legs are twitching on the ground, and her eyes are rolled back in her head. Blood is dripping from her nose and the corner of her mouth. She gives no reaction to our presence.
Rym reaches a hand toward her, but my hand shoots out to stop him. This guy’s just a glutton for punishment. First he blindly tries to help me, now he’s practically asking to be blasted across the base. I know he’s felt her shikiza before. That he’s still willing to help says a lot about him and how he treats other people.
“Too risky. It needs to be me,” I say. I wait for him to meet my hard gaze before continuing. “If I don’t come out of this… or if only one of us can come out of this… she survives. Promise me.”
“I promise,” he says with a curt nod.
“Stay with me, sis,” I say as I grab her hand and reach into her mind, a silent prayer on my lips that there’s enough left of me for this.
IT’S QUIET HERE AT THE cabin. Peaceful. Even if I know I’m not really here at all.
… happened? Why is she …
Memories play out in wisps of color and motion. Dad with Jace perched on his shoulders. The first time I read a book on my own. That time when Jace cut off my braid and I retaliated by rubbing poison ivy leaves on his pillow. Me on the couch, book in my hands with my feet propped in my brother’s lap. Dad teaching us how to gut a fish, how to clean a rabbit, how to fix a snare, how to… survive.
Some part of him must have known even then that he wouldn’t be able to stay with us, that we’d have to make it on our own. But I doubt he expected things to turn out like this.
I know I sure didn’t.
The world beyond the windows is pitch black, a hungry yawning darkness. No sky. No clouds. Just nothing. I close the curtains and trace my finger across the edge of the bookshelf. It’s here, but not here. Like everything else in this place it’s a faded copy of reality. But it’s mine. It’s safe. For now, it’s all I need.
… my fault … did not believe …
… how did he …
Objectively I know I need to wake up, that there are things going on I need to be present for. But to get there, to step outside the cabin, to go beyond these fragile walls… I’d have to navigate the darkness outside without a light to guide me.
… trying!
Green, gold, red… there’s no one here with me. Because I shut Lir out in anger and then took too much of my brother’s pain—so much that it’s going to swallow me whole. Eventually I’ll drown in his darkness, because I’m too exhausted to keep my head above water. Soon the walls will crack and shatter, letting it all come crashing in.
But for now it’s peaceful here.
… both of us … stronger …
A sliver of light sneaks between the curtains, and Jace appears, as solid and real as if I were awake. Whole. Healthy. Lighter.
“Hey, sis,” he says, his mouth quirking up in a familiar half smile.
Three long strides take me to him, and I wrap my arms around him. I know how these things work—well, sort of—so although he’s not here physically, he is here.
He holds me in a tight hug for a moment, then releases me and looks around. “Really? You had to call up the time I got poison ivy so bad both my eyes were almost swollen shut? Never did figure out exactly how I got it on my face and absolutely nowhere else.” He winks.
“Uh-huh…” I grin at him. “Just like I have no idea how I got poison ivy all over my feet soon after.”
He shrugs and holds his arms out at his sides. “Your socks must have fallen in a bush or something.” My elbow somehow ends up in his side, and he doubles over laughing. He slings an arm over my shoulder and kisses the top of my head. “God, I missed you. Even if… it didn’t seem like it.”
“I know,” I say softly. “I missed you too.”
“Your friends are worried about you. I’m worried about you.” His arm disappears from my shoulders, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I appreciate it and all, but you, uh, shouldn’t have done what you did by yourself. The connection to Grandfather—Jastren—may be gone, but the damage has already been done. You put yourself at risk for nothing.”
“I put myself at risk to save you.” I step away from him and gesture up and down his body. “And it worked. Look at you. You’re coherent. You’re fixed.”
A pained look takes over his face, and sympathy drips from his eyes. “But I’m not…”
I cross my arms. “You are!” I fling my arm toward the window. “I took it all from you. You can be better. You can be happy.”
His brows draw together. “You can’t keep it here. It’ll destroy you.”
“I. Don’t. Care.”
“You damn well should!” he yells, throwing his hands up and stomping to the other side of the room. “You’ve done more to thwart Jastren in the past hour than I’ve done the entire time we’ve known him. You’re stronger than I could ever hope to be, and it needs to be you.”
“What needs to be me?” I cross the room and place a hand on his shoulder, but he shakes it off.
“The one who finishes this thing with Jastren. The one who beats him. The one who wins.” He forces himself to meet my gaze, naked anguish simmering in his eyes. “I’ve already lost.”
I shake my head. “But you haven’t. We can do this together. We can—”
“Jax…” He grabs my upper arms and holds me in place. “You were there, in my head. You saw what it was like. There’s no coming back from that. The brother in front of you right now… this is the last piece of me left. I can be who I was here only because this isn’t real, and because I have you and your bondmate to bolster my strength.”
“No.” I shake my head again, refusing to meet his eyes. “That’s not true. Dad said… he said there might be a way. He said he just had to examine you and run some tests and… No.”
“Jax…”
I tug out of his hold and walk to face one of the windows, my arms crossed over my chest. The painful truth of his words drips from my eyes as tears. Deep down I know, I’ve always known, that Jace is gone, no matter how much I’ve denied it to myself. And now I’ve seen what his mind is like, a fragmented wasteland, his psyche shattered into pieces much too small to put back together.
“But we can just stay here,” I say. “You can stay here. With me.” A lump forms in my throat, and I can barely choke out my next words. “I don’t want to do this without you. I don’t know how.”
Jace steps up behind me, drapes his arms around my shoulders, and hugs my back to his chest. “You’ll fi
gure it out. You’re stronger than you realize, sis. I may have kept you together there for a bit, but look at all you’ve done on your own without me. I know I coddled you and tried to make decisions for you before. I thought I was protecting you, but… I should have gone about it differently, and I’m sorry for that.” His breath hitches in his chest. “You should know that Jastren is here, close. And he’s working with someone on the base. My real mind is too scattered to put all the pieces together, but I know there’s something particularly special about the kid. And best I can figure, Jastren hopes to alter himself further, make himself invincible or something. You need to get to him before he can do that.”
“He’s working with General Carter, the guy in charge of the base. Do you have any idea what Jastren could have promised him?”
Jace shrugs. “No clue.”
“It has something to do with the E’rikon children, the ones who don’t have kitus…”
“I’m sorry, Jax. He didn’t clue me in on the things he was doing, not any more than he needed to, and my thoughts and memories aren’t particularly reliable.” He lets out a pained sigh. “I wish there was more I could tell you, more I could do to help. All I know is the general guy’s been working with Jastren for a while. I first saw him sometime before… what happened in Bridgelake.” He pauses. “And tonight… he said something about having selected fifty men for the ‘project.’”
“I’m sure if you had more time to recover, you’d remember more. We need that information. I need that information. Stay with me. We can figure it out together.”
His hair brushes against my cheek as he shakes his head. “No, Jax. It’s too late for me. All I can do now is…” His breath catches in his throat. “This is the last thing I can do to protect you, and I’m going to do it right. I won’t let your love for me be the thing that destroys you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to take it all back, all my pain and darkness, and then you’re going to wake up.” His chin tilts toward the window. “I’ve already started.”