The fake Charlie tries to grin, and I want to cower in fear at the sight of it. “You will see her again,” it says to my father. “She will be a work of art, carved to perfection.”
My knees weaken and the world tilts but I manage to stay on my feet.
And then I let the pretend Charlie take my wrist and lead me away from my father’s frantic voice calling my name.
FORTY-FIVE
Rebecca
As soon as the fake Charlie reaches the line of trees, I consider running, but it turns as if it senses my urge and holds out a hand to me again.
I step back and shake my head. I shook its grip loose as soon as I could. The chill of rough, scaly skin against my wrist was more than I could handle on top of everything else. I know I’m going to die, I know a part of what it wants to do to me, but the thought of touching the claws, set to rip me apart, makes my head spin.
“You must touch me if we are to travel.”
I blink at it. “Where are we going?”
“My queen wishes for you to give something back, and then we will discover what we may do together, for she has promised me your flesh before your full transition will occur.”
My skin crawls and my stomach rises. Oh, God, what does it mean?
“Come,” it says, its voice becoming low and dangerous. “Your will is mine now, Fire Child.”
The assurance in its tone almost makes me believe I have no choice. But I can’t give up just yet. “I haven’t taken anything from anyone. What is it you need back?”
It steps forward, grabbing me by the arm, and I see the features of my brother loom over me, scarred with the rage and darkness of the monster underneath. “You will obey.”
And then my body is ripping in half.
I scream, but no sound comes from inside me because there is no me anymore.
When I find myself again, I’m falling, crashing to my knees, my stomach emptying as my body remembers itself. I gasp and gag and feel like I just died a hundred horrifying deaths.
“Stand,” comes the voice of my tormentor. What did it do to me, why doesn’t it just kill me? “You will not be weak.”
Like hell I won’t. I blink at the blurry ground, trying to get my eyes to work. Either I’m crying or I’m going blind, I can’t see. It looks like grass underneath me.
A scaly palm slides over my skin and grabs me, then yanks me to my feet, nearly pulling my arm from its socket.
I whimper and look around, more things coming clear. We’re not at the line of trees anymore. Somehow we’re in the spot where I woke up, in the forest, standing beside the tree that has my handprints embedded in the bark with that odd symbol.
“Why are we here?”
The fake Charlie ignores my question and shoves me at the tree. “Open.”
“I . . . I don’t know what you mean.”
It growls low in its throat. “Open.”
What’s it talking about? Open a tree—how do I open a tree?
It takes my wrist in its fist and holds my hand out in front of me, showing me my wounded palm. “Open. Now.” And then it points to one of the handprints burned into the trunk.
I just have to put my hand back on the tree?
I stare at the markings and then look over at fake Charlie. I’m positive now, this is the thing that killed him, that drowned him, and it’s wearing his skin. It’s so wrong. I want to rip the mask away and make the creature beneath suffer. I definitely don’t want to blindly do what it asks.
It must feel me contemplating rebellion because it says, “Your father is not far from my grasp, Fire Child. I can return with his head if you wish, for encouragement.” It leans in, putting my brother’s face only an inch from mine. The putrid smell of its breath swells around my head, choking me as it runs something sharp over my cheek. “Then I shall begin to cut away this soft pink flesh, inch by inch, peeling it from muscle and tendon as you scream for me to stop.”
My pulse roars in my ears.
“What would you choose, if given the grace?” it asks. It nearly touches its lips to mine. “Obedience or agony?” Then its head moves back to look me in the eyes, watching for an answer.
I shiver and stare right back, forcing myself to look, trying to see past my brother’s familiar features to the truth of what this thing is. And as I focus, begging for things to come clear, its eyes seem to become larger, changing shape and turning oily black. Its nose becomes sharp at the tip, and thorns emerge from its widening jaw, teeth lengthening to a point as the head grows, thick horns sprouting out. And I see it, a seven-foot beast, a creature from nightmares, cloven feet, claws as large as my head still gripping my arm.
I curl my raw toes into the grass beneath me to keep from sinking to the ground. There is no choice in this moment of truth, where I finally see the face of what’s been haunting me, chasing me. It’s ready to do whatever it needs to do to force my will.
But I can’t do what it says. Even though I don’t want to suffer, and I don’t want my dad to die. Because once I’ve done what it asks, what then? It’s not as if it will just release me to live my life. It’s been promised my flesh. And it’s going to take it.
“I won’t do anything for you,” I say, my voice hollow.
Its beastly features twist, and I’m so relieved that it’s not wearing Charlie’s face anymore that I barely register fear.
“You shall obey,” it says. It grips my arm tight enough to crack the bone beneath, and the pressure inside me rises, the twinge rushing behind my eyes.
The beast releases me suddenly and I stumble back, the pain in my arm growing as the blood starts flowing again. “I can’t,” I say through stuttering breath. “I won’t.” And I know with everything in me that’s the truth. I won’t do it.
The demon’s large eyes seem to search me, like it’s seeing a part of me that I can’t. “You are stubborn. Powerful.” It growls low in its chest. “Very well. The queen will have to find another way to retrieve her property.” It moves to the side, beginning to slowly pace like a lion. “And so, we must finish this dance.” It licks thin lips. “It is what I’ve waited for. What I have longed to take hold of. So much that the jaw aches, teeth hungry with need. Because you are to be mine, little witch. So lovely, so pure of heart, and I have been gifted the chance to devour pieces of you.” With each word, its triumph seems to grow until I imagine that I can feel its elation stinging my skin.
I shake my head, stepping back.
“Yesss,” it says with a hiss. And its demonic form widens even more, muscles thickening, jaw opening to bare its fangs. “Mine.” Then it huffs out a smoky breath from its nose.
And lunges.
I barely escape its grip as I dodge to the side, then slip on the grass, falling to my hands and knees. I’m crawling, scrambling into a standing position again so I can run, but the ground shakes as it stomps closer, making me falter.
It grabs my ankle. And yanks.
I flop to my stomach again, head bouncing off the ground as it slides me across the grass, the pull lifting my shirt, baring my back. A cloven hoof presses into my shoulder blade, crushing the breath from my lungs. The air around me rumbles with the demon’s satisfaction.
And a talon scrapes a trail from the back of my neck down my spine, forcing a scream from my lips as its cold sting sears my skin.
“Delicious,” it purrs.
“Fuck you,” I say, my skin burning, adrenaline filling my limbs in a panicked rush as I realize how trapped I am. The horror crashes down on me as I wait for the first deep slice, the first jarring agony to fall.
The beast laughs. “Ah, my witch, you will see. Soon I shall be your master and your power will belong to the queen. Then you will beg to feel my claws rake your skin.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and block out its words. Whatever it means, I’m not going to let it happen. I’m going to be sure I’m not alive to feel it, to see any of it come to pass. Somehow, I need to make the beast kill me. I won’t just sit by and let it tormen
t me. I force myself to struggle, to twist my body, even as the edge of its hoof digs deeper into my back and presses me harder into the ground. I scream into the dirt and tug at the grass. I writhe and kick and force it to crush me.
“I have an eternity to twist your soul, to tame you for her.” The pressure on my spine lifts. My ankle is gripped, and the beast yanks my legs again. “Fight as much as you’d like.”
I gasp, trying to catch my breath, and as I stare at where I was lying a second ago, a part of me goes still. Pink flowers speckle the ground in the shape of my body. Flowers. Flowers that weren’t there before. Did I do that somehow? Like Aidan’s mom made the white flowers grow?
I focus inside myself again, searching for the power that tossed the man across the room, hoping those flowers mean something, maybe that I’m not as helpless as I feel. How could I be helpless if I destroyed an entire convenience store?
It was when I closed my eyes and thought of nothingness that I channeled the drawing, and that same feeling of dark nothing captured me just before I caused the tornado in the store.
I go still, not fighting the demon’s grip on my ankles, even as I feel something tie them together. “I will take you to her soon,” the beast is saying. “She can assist me in tearing away your humanity. I think the little witch would like that.” It places a knee on either side of my hips, straddling my back, then grips my wrists, yanking them above me, and begins tying them as well. “Perhaps then you will see her cause is just. Perhaps you will assist her in other things.”
I close my eyes and search for it, my empty dark place, where I feel nothing, no pain, no terror, nothing . . .
My surroundings fall away. I let the emptiness rise in front of me and fill my mind. I float in the stillness of it as it spreads, as I breathe it in and let it envelop me.
Save me, I plead. Or consume me. Just don’t allow this thing to have me. And I wonder who my heart is begging for help from, even as I feel my answer rise.
Like a lullaby it sings over me in a hundred sounds; birdsong, the wind stirring the leaves, the rushing tide. Receive a new anointing, child of Earth. The years the locusts have stolen will be returned to you; the Seed of Eve will follow your line, as it was meant to. Do not fear your future any longer.
In a wash of white light, the nothingness becomes everything inside of me, my sight full of its shimmer, my head full of its rosy scent, and my mind engulfed in its peaceful presence.
Just breathe, it says. And hear the songs of salvation.
And the white expanse reveals an entire universe within me, as if it cracked open my insides and there was so much power there, it took up an entire sky. And I know its message, what it’s trying to convey, without any explanation needed. I understand.
When I open my eyes, I’m no longer on the ground. I’m dangling over the grass. Hanging from the tree by my bound wrists. The ache in my shoulders surfaces first, then the pain in my chest and my back. I gasp in air, but my lungs are too constricted to breathe right.
“I am glad to see you return,” says the demon. It stands a few feet from me, a large form surrounded by night, almost blending into the shadows. “I thought that I had broken you already and was disappointed. Perhaps I have been . . . overzealous. It has been a very long journey to this moment.” It steps closer, baring its teeth at me.
I try to kick it away but am reminded my ankles are tied together. I still feel the light lingering inside me. And as the demon closes the distance between us that light seems to pulse a little brighter.
The demon’s wide brow creases. “What has happened? Your energy . . . it’s changed. More . . . focused.”
I say through my teeth, “One step closer and I’ll show you.” Brave words because I have no idea how I’ll end this thing, no matter how true the threat feels inside me.
The words must feel true to the creature, too, because it pauses and looks me over more closely. “Something . . . is shifting in your soul. What have you promised, witch? What spirit have you contacted?”
I only stare back at it, the familiar twinge behind my eyes surfaces again.
It growls deep in its chest. “You are mine.”
I shake my head. The twinge in my brow becomes a rush of heat, spreading down my neck into my chest and stomach.
“Who, then?!” Its voice becomes a roar. “I will destroy it! I will destroy you for your folly!” And it steps closer, talons raised to strike.
My insides crack open again. But this time I see the strange colors of my power emerge from inside me with my eyes wide open. I feel it in every molecule that hums with the push of its force. A wash of green and gold and pink pours from the center of my chest, reaching out in curls of light like a blossom made of energy and heat. It slithers up my arms in a rush, at the same time spilling down my legs to the ground.
I sense everything above and below me come aware, as if it’s waking from a slumber, raising its focus. To me.
The branch holding me creaks. The ground three feet under my toes groans.
And then I watch as a root bursts from the grass, slides into my bonds, cutting them, at the same time a branch grows above me, slicing through the ties holding my wrists.
I fall to the ground with a huff of air, but the energy that’s flowing from inside me has me rising to my feet again, facing the demon. Hunger.
Its rage stings my skin as it towers over me, snarling like a cornered dog, shoving its putrid breath at me. But it doesn’t attack. I’m stunned, because some part of me wishes it would.
I hear words in the back of my mind, stirring in my throat. I know I’m supposed to speak them. And I’m supposed to create my spell, just like the one I drew without thinking. I let my feet take me, knowing my instinct will guide me.
I begin walking around the beast. One circle, then two, as I let the words escape from my throat, a lyrical chanting in another language, as I go round and round the creature that wants my soul.
It seems stunned, trapped. It doesn’t try to escape or move.
Once I’ve walked the circle three times, I stop and face the thing that killed my innocence. This is the creature that tore my brother from me, tried to steal my sanity. I focus my energy on it, sensing the air around me move. “No more,” I whisper. “You’ve caused enough pain.”
The green and gold light still pulses from my chest with each beat of my heart. But now it seems to choose a direction. It spills down my legs and seeps over the grass, like water. It follows the path of the circle I made, then reaches in, closer to the beast.
Hunger moves, frantically trying to escape the light as it closes in, but it can’t leave the circle I’ve created. “You cannot destroy me. I am always here. Always.”
The ground shifts, cracking open with a burst of roots, tentacles of life uncoiling, reaching out, wrapping around scale and spike, grabbing horns and talons in a fury of movement, pulling the demon down to its knees, then its back, forcing it to submit. And then it yanks with a crack of bone. It tears leather skin as it tugs down, wrenching limbs from each other. Screams of agony and rage billow from the demon’s chest, but the life merely coils around its head, gagging it as roots slither down its throat.
And then the earth shifts again, opening its arms to the beast. With one last jerk it pulls the demon beneath the dark soil before the ground closes over its head. The grass regrows across the healing ground in a swirling pattern of green. Until all that remains is the circle.
With three pink blossoms in the center.
FORTY-SIX
Aidan
Stillness. Peace.
I sigh deep in my chest and keep my eyes closed, letting the smell of tranquil air seep through me. It’s so lovely. So right. I don’t remember ever feeling like this before. I drift in it for days, for months . . . maybe years . . . before I open my eyes. I slowly allow the light into me, each sliver of gold piercing my vision, blinding me for a second before the vast expanse appears above me.
The night sky. It’s not the sam
e, though, not like it was so long ago. Now it’s clustered with blue and green stars, a twinkling array of light. It’s close, so close that I can almost touch it. I reach out a tentative hand and feel the heat on my palm.
I know I’m dead. It’s an awareness inside me. But I don’t really . . . care. I also know that I’m not in any kind of afterlife. I’m in that between place before I move on: not here, not there, not alive, not dead. I am nothing. I’ve been here before. I’ve hated this place. But this time seems different. It seems right and good and meant to be.
I know I should be fighting, that I should try to get back, like I have before. But for now I just want to rest.
And I want to watch the sky.
“I’ve broken it all,” I say to the stars. “I should just move on and leave things alone.”
The stars blink in answer, but I don’t know what they’re trying to say.
“What happened?” asks a voice beside me.
I sit up slowly and realize I’m inside the house. The roof is missing. I turn to the voice and see the blogger, kneeling beside the kitchen table, looking down at something on the floor. His body.
He turns to me, confusion clouding his features. “Who are you?”
I wish that I could forget the answer to that question. “Don’t worry,” I say, looking around at the frozen world. “I can send you back to your—” I stop, realizing my body isn’t beside me in the entryway where I thought I fell. I look around the room and memories come back to me like fists to the gut. Chaos reigned last time I was in this space. Death was master here. But everyone’s gone now. Connor’s body. Finger. It’s a charred space, half the floor missing to my left, with flames frozen in a trail up the staircase, along the living room ceiling.
I stand, panic sparking. I came here to save them. But where are they?
“Connor!” I yell, but the sound of my voice muffles as it leaves my mouth. I turn to the blogger again. “Did you see anyone else? Was there anyone else here?” The fire hasn’t touched much of the kitchen in this frozen moment, but the living room and the entry are blackened and grey, the place where Finger’s body was lying, where Connor was beside him, it’s completely consumed.
Darkness Savage (The Dark Cycle Book 3) Page 26