Phantom Eyes

by Scott Tracey

  My attention stayed completely on the board, leaving Matthias to skirt the edges of my attention. He was just a demon like Lucien, and they thought that by entering a room they were immediately the most important part of it. Just like they thought that Belle Dam was only special because of the monsters that it caged.

  That was about to change.

  “I’ve got her over a barrel,” I said, nodding to the game board. The red pawn was one step away from the opposite side, where it would earn a promotion and become whatever piece I desired. There were no immediate moves for white that could stop it.

  “The first rule in dealing with women, is never expect that you have them at all,” he said. “They always have a way to surprise you.”

  “Does that go double for demons?”

  His lips quirked like he wanted to smile, but he resisted. “I’ve already asked once. Why am I here?” His foot tapped a restless rhythm against the carpet, like I was keeping him from something far more interesting. Knowing Matthias, that might not be far off track.

  “I … need a lawyer,” I admitted.

  Matthias stared me down for a good minute. All the sound in the library seemed to dwindle down to nothing—even my heart silenced itself in my chest. “How, exactly,” he started, and then just as quickly stopped. Another silence began. Matthias lowered himself down into one of the chairs, and his attention came down on the chess sets.

  “Interesting,” he murmured to himself.

  “I need to understand a few things, too,” I added in a sudden rush. “I can’t make a plan until I know everything.”

  “So it would seem,” Matthias said. Then, louder, he called out, “Bring her in, if you please.”

  I shifted in my seat, the chess piece still tucked between my fingers like a lifeline.

  Drew strolled into the library, pushing a wheelchair. And sitting in the wheelchair was none other than Riley.

  “I just get so lonely. I wanted some friendly faces.” Matthias said in explanation. “Now the gang’s all here.”

  Drew didn’t seem surprised by the gathering, nor had he been particularly shocked when Matthias arrived and pulled both him and Riley out of her hospital room before heading over to the Thorpe estate.

  “Figured you needed my help again,” he said. “Not like you can even step out your front door without screwing something up. I’m used to it by now.”

  “Thanks,” I responded dryly. Drew the dick was in fine form this afternoon.

  Riley had undergone the most startling transformation. Her wild hospital hair had been brushed back and tied up in a ponytail, and the outfit she wore … well, it was Amish goth. A collarless, black button-up done up all the way to her neck. A long, ankle-length black skirt with black lace at the bottom. And gloves.

  “Grace wants to meet with me,” I said, pretending that Matthias hadn’t just turned my afternoon into a circus. “And I want to be prepared.”

  “So pack a lunch,” Matthias replied. “Or an extra pair of underwear. I don’t know how you think I can help you.”

  “If that was true, you wouldn’t have shown,” I said. I gestured towards Drew and Riley. “And you certainly wouldn’t have brought the two of them unless they were important somehow.”

  Matthias rolled his eyes.

  I continued, “Grace is going to have terms, and I can’t afford to let her have the upper hand. So how about you stop being a pretentious twit for half an hour and remember that if things go south, I’ll still have my powers back and I can make your life more miserable than it already is.”

  “Do you even know what you want yet? A day ago, you were all set to run. Now you’re suddenly ready to fight?”

  So he knew about that, huh? Matthias was paying more attention to my actions than I’d realized. “Isn’t it obvious, Matt?” I wagged the chess piece in his direction. “I want to stop all of them. Not just Jason and Catherine. Not just Lucien. All of them. At the same time. Because every time you cut a head off this feud, it turns out there’s a whole other layer you never saw coming. So you’re going to help me tear out the roots … or you’re going to be the first demon I destroy.”

  Matthias kept his silence for only a span of seconds before the tension in him vanished like vapor. “Then once again, I’ve come to your rescue. Because without the girl, you’ll never figure out what you need.”

  I got up and held out the red bishop to her. She looked up at me, eyes in wonder, even as she snatched it out of my hands and clutched it to her chest. “Are you going to break him now? Rout his forces, fire flies, calcaneus on vertebrae, checkmate?”

  I knelt down in front of her, glancing towards Matthias who gave me an approving nod, and then turned to her again. “Riley, it’s not enough to break him.” She grew still in front of me. Her lips compressed into a bloodless line. I took a deep breath. “He needs to suffer first. They all do. Can you help?”

  “Braden, what the hell are you doing?” Drew demanded. “Riley’s not a part of this. Not anymore.”

  “She’s still a part of this, Drew,” I said, refusing to break my connection with Riley.

  “Didn’t you do enough damage the last time? She’s here because of you,” he snapped.

  And like that, the air went out of me. What was I doing? Using Riley? Asking her to help me destroy my enemies? That’s something Lucien or Catherine would do.

  Riley reached out and tapped my glasses. Her demon-blue eyes never blinked. I hadn’t noticed that before, but now it was all I could see. “Blind boy needs violet boy. Violet boy can save them. Violet boy can save us all. Violet boy can destroy us all.”

  “But can I be one without the other?”

  “Like hell,” Drew snarled, but just as he leaped up in outrage, Matthias was there at his side, a finger pressed against his temple.

  “Sleep,” the demon whispered. Drew sagged back down like a puppet with its strings cut. Just before he crumpled down onto the floor, Matthias gave him a healthy shove and he ended up sprawled over the side of the couch.

  “There is one more thing you need to know,” the demon said gravely. “And I’m afraid that our young mister Armstrong won’t be quite so receptive.”

  A half hour later, I still couldn’t feel my legs. Riley was happily ensconced with the chess sets, and though she didn’t touch a single piece other than the bishop clutched between her fingers, she was captivated. Matthias had stoked a fire in the fireplace, though I was vaguely aware that there was no kindling inside to burn, nor wood of any kind.

  Drew started to stir, and I looked away.

  “It all depends on how much you want this,” Matthias had said. “And how far you’re willing to go.”

  “What happened?” Drew slurred the words through a yawn until they were nearly one long, stretched out syllable.

  “We’ll just leave the two of you alone,” Matthias demurred, pulling himself to his feet. He sauntered over to where Riley’s wheelchair had been parked and smirked over his shoulder. “Make good choices, Mr. Thorpe.”

  I couldn’t tell if he meant it more as a condemnation or a warning. All I knew was that it wasn’t an innocent piece of advice. Matthias had just as much to lose in this as anyone.

  The grandfather clock struck at the hour, clear bells pealing out a chorus of time. Lucien had kept a low profile since the wake. Were the church bells still doing their job and keeping him out of the way? I couldn’t imagine that would keep him down for long, but yet it already had.

  “Where’s he taking her?” Drew pulled himself up into a sitting position and scrubbed a hand against the drool oozing the side of his cheek. “What’s going on?”

  “I need you to listen to me very carefully, Drew.” The fire was like a swinging pocket watch. Hypnotizing. My head felt strange, like it was filled with sunset clouds, all reds and pinks and purples. I wondered about the fire, about what would happen if I slipped my fingers against the salamander and vermilion and collected it like dewdrops. Would it even hurt? I shook my head
and turned away, unable to even feel the flames against my skin.

  While Drew had been asleep, Matthias had had much to say. He’d even brought me the elaborate gold pen and heavy card stock notepaper. I used it now to write down two locations. “After you take Riley back,” I said, handing him the card, “I need you to pick something up for me. And then tomorrow night I need you to meet me there.”

  “Are you going to tell me what the hell’s going on? You let demon boy put the mojo on me?”

  I looked towards the door. Chewed my lower lip. Hesitated. Panicked. Matthias had said not to tell. Matthias said that nothing good would come of it.

  Matthias wasn’t the one who was going to have to pull all the strings.

  “Have you accepted anyone as your personal lord and savior lately?” I asked.

  twenty-one

  The church doors were unlocked. The moon had appeared from between the clouds only minutes before, a slow and methodical fire that burned at my back. The church itself smelled like funerals and spice, of things celebrated and forgotten.

  Elle was alone, knelt down in front of the chapel candles, a fire stick clasped forgotten between her hands. She could have been lost in prayer. She could have been dead. It was hard to say. Or care.

  “She’s waiting for you upstairs,” Elle said, only moving her lips. “Be careful.”

  “There’s not much she can still take from me.”

  Elle turned her head to look at me, her eyes sad and serious. “Don’t let her prove you wrong.”

  To the right of the chapel was an open door, and behind it, stairs that led up into the darkness. I climbed towards my meeting with Grace, tired of her fascination with heights. I blamed the burn in my legs on nerves, not the climb. Grace had a hundred years to plan for this. I’d had about thirty-six hours.

  I came to the crest of the bell tower, which was now apparently just a tower. The axle the bell had hung from was still there, as were the metal links that had helped it sway back and forth, but the bell itself was missing.

  “He dares only strike at one a day,” Grace said, again from her perch at the window. She looked out at her city, the belle dame of Belle Dam. It was meant to be ironic, I knew now. A “beldam” was a hag, or a witch. She’d named the city after herself twice. “It must gall him, to dirty his own hands. To have a fraction of his old strength restored, and yet the bells cut through his dark power with every passing hour.”

  “Good job. You’ve given him a scare,” I said dryly. Grace didn’t torture Lucien like she wanted to crush him. It was all with an air of grotesque passion. If she was a cat, then he was the prey, and she only toyed with him before the passion to consume him became too much. Until all that was left was to lick the blood from her fingers when she was done.

  I just wanted him to suffer, even destroy him if the opportunity presented itself. Somehow, that had become the less creepy alternative. I wanted to become a monster, and somehow that made me the hero.

  “Shouldn’t you be out there right now, pulling his pigtails?”

  A breeze cut through the open walls, and I had the sense it was raveling around her like a shawl. “You grow bold,” she whispered. “Stupid boy. What would the world lose if the Thorpe line withered where you stood—if I took back the life I returned to you?”

  “Did you come here to make threats,” I said evenly, “or did you come to beg me for my help?”

  That drew her up short. Grace pursed her lips, magma-eyes churning. “You don’t know any—”

  “—I know exactly why I’m here. Do you think I couldn’t figure out what happened? If so, then I’m not the stupid one, am I?”

  I’ll give her one thing. The zombie witch with inferno eyes had a great poker face.

  I gestured between the two of us. “We’re still connected. You might have taken my power, but I can still feel it. I know you tried to have Elle do your dirty work for you, and that didn’t work. I know it’s killing her. And as long as the wellsprings are dormant, you’re still trapped in the lighthouse.”

  “Abomination,” she hissed.

  “Sticks and stones,” I sing-songed. “You wanted his power for yourself, but you ended up trapped. And I unlocked the first wellspring. That’s it, isn’t it? I started releasing that power, and now I’m the one who has to finish it. And you can’t touch a drop of it without me. But you lost control and came after me. Screwed yourself over, didn’t you?” My lip curled. “In all things, balance.” It wasn’t quite the B word I wanted, but the meaning was clear.

  There was a moment, a single second in space and time, where the fire in her eyes kindled and weighed against itself. I could see it in the glow of her power and in the tension that had thickened the room. On one side of the scale was my annihilation. On the other, my survival. The difference between them was less than a feather’s sigh.

  “You misunderstand your position here. Your purpose,” she said, the flames devolving down into embers. “You only live because of my mercy. But that doesn’t make you my equal. Remember that.”

  “Cut the crap,” I snapped. I was curious how far I could push things. If I was wrong, and Grace didn’t need me, there was only so much she would tolerate. But if I was right, then maybe it was the time to redefine some of the boundaries between us. Starting with … “You need me. Actually,” I said, pretending to think, “You needed the old me. The broken, cursed kid who got traumatized every time he took a hotel shower.”

  “Your power,” she sneered. “What are you but a pawn in a game you barely understand?”

  “What are you but an ancient bitch who can’t get over her ex?”

  “You dare—”

  “I dare! Of course I do. So if you’re going to kill me, then do it.” There was a moment while the two of us acknowledged the challenge that had been laid down. “You need me. And he needs me. But look!” I held up my arm, dangled it out in front of her. “No strings. I’m not your puppet. I won’t dance because you tell me to. So shut up and listen, because you might have gotten used to the sound of your own voice over the last hundred years, but I don’t care.”

  “How desperate do you think I am? I don’t bargain with mongrels.”

  It was hard to forget that not only was Grace an aged magical revenant hell-bent on revenge, but she was also something of a pretentious bigot. “If you want my help, we’re doing this my way. You’re not just giving me my power back. You’re going to show me how to use it without killing myself. You’re going to help me get the control I need.”

  Grace sneered. “If you think I’m going to unleash you with the true weight of your power onto this world, you are sorely mistaken. Imagine the destruction you could sow in just a single lifetime. This will never happen. I will not allow it.”

  “Fine,” I said, thinking quickly. I couldn’t let Grace decide the terms of our agreement without fighting back, but I also couldn’t afford to just let her walk away entirely. “Then give me three days.” My heart squeezed in tight, constricted like a snake had wrapped around the muscle and was slowly pressing the life out of it.

  Only three days. How could I do everything and say goodbye to my life in three days?

  “What?”

  “Three. Days.” I said clearly, like it had been part of my plan all along.

  I had caught her off guard. She weighed the words carefully, but if she thought it would be that easy to divine my intentions, she was disappointed. Hell, I didn’t even know my intentions at this point. Confusion lined her face, and the fire in her eyes dimmed. “To do what?” She sounded almost curious.

  “You give me three days back in the world. And then we can negotiate what happens to me. Tear out my eyes, lock me in the lighthouse, but there’s no way I’m walking away from this alive. I know that.”

  The fire in Grace’s eyes dimmed completely, and for the first time I saw something other than fire—a shifting of shades that ran from crimson all the way to daisy yellow. Reds and oranges and yellows, each as striking as the ne
xt, no two shades quite the same.

  Grace knew about sacrifice, maybe more than anyone, but it seemed that self-sacrifice still eluded her understanding. “You … would give up your life?” She looked almost human. Almost sad. Almost.

  “I know what’s going to happen to me,” I said clearly. I did know. I’d known for a while that some journeys don’t end well. They just end. “If I’m going to fall, I’ll drag him down with me.”

  There was a startled pause.

  Grace’s voice was pebbles against stone, as gentle and as tentative as she could. “And what could you do in three days?”

  My smile was slow and sincere. “I’m going to tear Lucien apart. You trapped him in this town, but it’s become his playground. He has his toys, and his games, and his plans. He has his pleasures, and I’m going to sour all of them. I’m going to make this place the hell you should have made it in the first place. For him.”

  “Every cage has its key,” she murmured. Another way of saying in all things, balance. If I was going to take something from Lucien, I would have to give up something of myself. That was the true nature of power, I understood it now. For every victory, there is a sacrifice. For every power, there is a price. And there is always a loophole.

  “The spell over Belle Dam, the one you used to trap him, that continues because you’re still alive, doesn’t it?” Grace nodded, but my question was rhetorical. I’d already figured out that much on my own. “If I have to bind myself to the lighthouse, then I will. I’ll give you my freedom and take up your place.”

  “The burden of Atlas,” she murmured with a small smile. “Do you know how long a hundred years is in this world?”

  “I’ll finally have time to watch all the Lord of the Rings movies,” I offered. “They’re just so long.” But there would be so much I could do before that happened. Heal Riley the best that I could. Save Trey. Protect Jade. Ravage the life that Lucien had built until nothing was left but a shredded, bloodless carcass. Dig out the roots of the feud and pry them from the town so that no one else would get tangled in agendas and dark motivations.