Mace eyed her warily. “You don’t look fine. In fact, you look very much…unfine.”
“Wow,” she sneered. “You say the sweetest things.”
“Ember, I know-”
“You don’t know anything. You do not know what this is like. You don’t understand this at all.”
His brows shot up, “Oh, well aren’t you pissy all of a sudden.”
She bared her teeth at him, rolling her head along her shoulders, “This is all your fault.”
It wasn’t his fault, the logical part of her brain told her, not really. But she was mad. She was just so mad.
“My fault. How, pray tell, is this my fault?” he asked, incredulous.
“You were the one who started this whole thing. Maybe if you hadn’t been in the cemetery that day my powers would have stayed asleep.”
“Oh, that’s rich. Let me ask you, Luv, how long do you think you would have lasted in that cemetery if my magic hadn’t soothed yours? How many people do you think you would have taken with you in that cemetery if I had done what Allister told me and just stood by and watched?”
“Gosh, I don’t know. Maybe we should ask him. He is your boss, after all.”
He stared at her. “How long have you been waiting to play that card, hmm?” He asked. “I chose you, remember. Much to my own peril.”
“Peril? You’re immortal. What’s he going to do take you off his Christmas card list? You act like you’ve done me some big favor by not helping him murder me.” She laughed. “Should I thank you?”
His brows shot up and he gaped at her, “As a matter of fact, perhaps you should. You’d already be dead by now if it wasn’t for me.”
“And if it wasn’t for me feeding you, you’d probably be a shriveled up husk because you haven’t sucked the life out of anybody.”
“I’m sorry, is this news to you? I’m a soul eater, it’s what I do. You knew that when you kissed me the first time and you knew it when you climbed into my lap and kissed me this morning.”
Ember’s face flushed and her magic sparked off her fingers. She fumed, “Get away from me.”
He backed up two steps, face falling a bit, “You say you want me to back away, but your magic doesn’t feel the same. I can feel it pulling me closer.”
“I don’t care what my magic wants.” Ember clenched her teeth. “I want you gone. Now. I don’t care if I take this entire town with me.”
The scowl on his face smoothed out, “Ember, don’t be like this.” He advanced, stopping short, “I didn’t mean it, I just thought you needed a distraction. A way to burn off some of your excess magic.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Come on, Luv. You are just going a bit stir crazy. I bet if I asked nicely I can get the little alpha to let us go to the pet cemetery and work off some of this power. It’s obviously making you crazy.”
Her rage was instantaneous. “Crazy? My magic is making me crazy? Right because I can’t just be tired of this. I can’t just be completely done with this whole absurd situation. It has to be my power. Ember can’t possibly be feeling her own feelings.”
“Ember, Luv, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Anger twisted inside her, like a spring coiling tighter. “I want you gone. I don’t need you anymore.”
He skin looked as grey as his hair. “Ember,” he pleaded, voice soft and sweet like this morning when he’d pushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It just made her angrier.
“Go,” she said again, catching on a sob.
He looked sick, defeated. “Fine, but I think this is a horrible idea.”
“I don’t care what you think,” she said meanly, blinking back tears. She had no idea what she was doing but it was too late to turn back now.
“If you change your mind, I won’t be far.”
Her power was furious, her skin practically sizzling but she was done caring.
She was done letting her magic control her.
She was just done.
75
TRISTIN
The packs arrived as the sun set. Isa took one look at Tristin in her ratty shorts and old t-shirt and banished her upstairs.
“Don’t you come back downstairs until you’ve showered and brushed your teeth,” she told her. That was fine by her, she would just stay upstairs.
“You know, Quinn would never dishonor your memory or this pack by looking so slovenly.”
“Well, he was always a better person than me,” Tristin fired back, but there was no heat behind her words. She showered and brushed her teeth. She pulled on clean jeans and a black t-shirt but that was as much as she could manage.
When she came back downstairs, it was dark and people were everywhere. Isa was mingling with Wren, making introductions and following pack protocol. She’d put Rhys and Kai at the front door to greet guests as they arrived. Kai charmed the pants off the arriving packs and Rhys was the epitome of diplomacy, shaking hands and giving a curt nod to each arriving member. Donovan was smiling, happily feeding the crowd.
Tristin hung back, avoiding the throng of people. They didn’t need her to be social. The newcomers were content to stare at her as they walked past, fascinated by a pack with not one but three reapers. She couldn’t help but notice their disappointment when they saw she looked so…normal.
Neoma flitted about in her long black dress and always bare feet showing off Romero and Chester while the visitors would gasp in wonder.
Welcome to the Belladonna Pack and their Supernatural Side Show, Tristin thought bitterly. These people weren’t here for Quinn. They were there to spy. They were voyeurs cashing in on their chance to see three active reapers in one pack. That had to make people nervous.
Tristin couldn’t think of anybody who wanted to be here less than her except maybe Ember. Ember too sat away from the people. She sat and moped, staring into the abyss. She was probably lamenting about sending her soul eater packing. It was the first smart thing she’d ever done as far as Tristin was concerned. He just couldn’t be trusted.
She lost track of the people traipsing through their house. It was a sea of foreign faces laden down with food offerings. She wasn’t sure who started the tradition of bringing food to funerals but it was safe to say they would be able to feed the entire town for over a week.
She was about to head for the stairs when she noticed a guy standing against the open back door, watching her intently. He was a shifter, feline of some sort. His eyes were shifted but with the moon rising it was to be expected. Periodically, howls pierced the sky and if she squinted she could see the flames of the bonfire almost to the edge of the property line.
“Tristin, there you are,” Isa huffed. “Please go grab more ice from the garage?”
“Sure,” she sighed. “Why not.”
She had just pulled two bags from the deep freezer when a voice asked, “Need some help?”
She turned, warily observing the shifter from the kitchen. “Sure,” she told him smiling snarkily and shoving both bags at him as she pushed past and kept walking.
He laughed at her, following along obediently. “Guess your brother got all the manners in the family.”
She let him catch up, narrowing her eyes at him. She knew all her brother’s friends. The pack consisted of all her brother’s friends. “You know my brother?”
“Yeah, we met a while ago. I’m Tate.”
She whipped around to look at him. “Tate?” she gasped. “Georgia Tate?”
He grinned, “You’ve heard of me.”
She hadn’t until recently. Not until her brother spilled everything about the trip at Isa’s impromptu pack meeting. “You’re the jerk who helped make my friend insane with jealousy after you did…whatever you did with my brother.” She pulled a face. She so didn’t want to know what happened.
“Guilty as charged, I guess.” He picked up the bag
of ice and followed her to the coolers. She stood by while he dumped the ice. All around them, people laughed and joked. Animals roamed both foreign and domestic.
It certainly didn’t look like a funeral to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat. This wasn’t honoring Quinn at all. Everything about this was so wrong. She wanted to cry or scream or hit something.
A glimpse of tawny colored hair drifted past in her peripheral and for a minute, she thought Astrid had made good on her promise to come. She wondered if Astrid still intended to try the spell tonight. Maybe she would. Maybe by some miracle it would work and she could have him back. She didn’t realize Tate held her arm until he tugged her towards the end of the clearing.
“Walk with me? I’m not much for crowds.”
She nodded absently. She wasn’t much for crowds either.
“I knew your friend. He was a good guy,” he told her sounding like he meant it.
“We were going to get married,” she said.
His eyes widened. “Really? You were engaged?”
She laughed, her mouth crooking in a bitter half smile. “Nope, we weren’t even dating.”
He eyed her queerly, but said nothing as they walked. The noise from the party dissipated the further they went and she breathed a little easier. She could hear people moving in the surrounding trees but nobody in the woods would bother them tonight.
“Was that book any use to you?” Tate asked after a bit.
“The book?” Tristin asked. The book. The. Book. She stumbled, stomach lurching. She was grateful she’d skipped food today.
She could see him wince, his feline eyes glowing in the dim light. “Sorry. That was tactless of me. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t do anything.” She said, voice hoarse from the bile still burning at her esophagus. It was her. How could she have forgotten the very book he’d died for? How had she not even thought about that? What was wrong with her?
“Did you give him the book?” she asked, wanting him to say yes. If he said yes she could hate him. It would be wonderful to have a face to put to this constant burning rage that seared her heart.
“I’m afraid he stole it. Though, I think it may be more the case he forgot to put it down in the excitement. It seemed finding out Mace worked for Allister threw everybody. From what I remember, neither he nor your brother took too kindly to that information. They left in a hurry.”
“Do you know what book it was?”
“Yes. Expensive. My boss was intent on selling it for an enormous price when the time was right.”
Tristin looked at him. “Why would Quinn care about some fancy book?”
“I suppose because it was on banshees,” he said, “and, if the rumors are true, you are a banshee.”
Her pulse thudded in her throat. He’d died for her. He’d sacrificed his life because of a stupid book he’d seen about her kind. She wanted to bring him back just to kill him again for being so stupid.
“So did you come here to steal back the book for your boss?”
“The book has been paid for. My boss said a third party paid for the book and then paid Shelby a rather large sum to procure another item of great value.”
“Third party?” she snorted. “Aren’t you the mysterious one.” She was suddenly acutely aware of how far they’d drifted from the others.
He didn’t seem to notice. “Yes, they wanted to ensure there wasn’t any bad blood with Shelby. It doesn’t pay to piss off a demi-god. They were kind enough to pay Shelby triple the amount she would have asked.”
Tristin couldn’t keep the scowl off her face. “Oh, I just bet.” It had to be Allister. Who else had that sort of money? “So, now what? You came to get the book back for this ‘third party’?”
“No, they don’t really care about the book. I’m here for the other item.”
Tristin shook her head in confusion. “What is this other item?”
He smiled sadly, “You.”
He hit her then, just once but it was hard enough to stun. She stumbled backwards. “I’m really genuinely sorry about this,” he said, snatching her and hauling her over his shoulder. The ground turned upside down as her world went fuzzy at the edges. “But I have people to answer to as well. Truthfully, I would have preferred your brother but we need him for later.”
She opened her mouth to say something but then her world went black.
76
MACE
Mace had no idea where he was. They’d chased him from the woods. He’d tried to stay downwind of the shifters but it was only a matter of time before they caught the scent of him. Without Isa there to call him friend he’d had no choice but to flee.
Every muscle hurt. It felt like the atoms in his body were attempting to rearrange themselves simultaneously. He stumbled, tripping along the old railroad tracks. He couldn’t think. He could barely keep his feet underneath him. He had no idea where to go.
He wasn’t sure how long he walked, sweat blind and shaking, before he realized he no longer felt the tracks beneath his feet. He lurched along the empty paved road in the blackness. He wiped the sweat stinging his eyes but it didn’t matter, his vision was fading in and out, this world a hazy shadow realm of looming shapes and utter silence. There were no street lights, no headlights of passing cars. It appeared the world had abandoned this place just like Ember had abandoned him.
He collapsed in the street on his back. The full moon was a blurry orb overhead. Most of the wolves would be fully shifted by now, prowling the woods and looking to hunt. Was he far enough away?
He groaned, body twisting as another wave of pain hit him. It was almost unbearable. Nothing made it better. He was sure he was in flames, skin blistering and cracking until the flesh peeled from his body. But when his hands skimmed over the battered surface there was nothing wrong just the same layers of scar tissue. It didn’t stop the pain. Nothing could stop this pain. It was the worst type of hallucination. He closed his useless eyes and prayed for a death he knew would never come.
“Oh, brother, what have you done to yourself?”
Somebody jostled his head and gently hands petted through his messy hair. It was his sister’s voice. Another sadistic fantasy from Ember’s magic but he embraced it anyway. He opened his eyes, afraid of what he might see. Who knew what horrors all that power could create? But she looked exactly the same as she had hundreds of years ago with her pale blue eyes and that waterfall of blonde hair. She was always the beautiful one.
“Asa?” he mumbled.
“It’s alright, Balthazar, I’m here.” She kissed his forehead. “I’m right here.”
He sighed, letting her attempt to comfort him. “Mace, its Mace now.”
A giggle escaped her lips, so much like when they were children. “You always were one for the dramatic. Mother would have a seizure if she knew. She named you after grandfather.”
“I-I know. Hated him. Still hate him.” He panted, staring up at her face. He just wanted to look at her for a while.
As he watched, her eyes bled silver and her blonde hair went grey. “No. W-What’s happening?”
“I took my true form, just like you.”
He shook his head, retching as his world spun violently. “No. You’re not real. T-this isn’t real. You aren’t like me.”
She smiled wistfully, “I know but does that matter?” He supposed it didn’t. He tried to answer her, to tell her he missed her, to tell her he wanted her to stay. He hadn’t seen her face in so long. Her face contorted above him. “You abandoned me. You abandoned us. Left us defenseless in that place. The truth of what happened to us is far worse than this.”
“No. I did this for you, to keep you safe. To keep you both safe.”
“Safe? Did you really think he’d honor his word? He was a soulless monster just like you; like me.”
“Please, Asa. Don
’t say that.” He begged. He wasn’t even surprised when her grey hair became a mass of orange curls and Ember’s face appeared, a sneer across her face. “Look at you. What a mess you’ve made. This is what happens to liars, Mace. This is the price you pay.”
Another delusion, he told himself. She wasn’t real. They weren’t real. His sister wasn’t like him. Ember wasn’t cruel. She was kind and sweet and everything he wasn’t.
Spasms racked his body, his teeth clacking together violently. What the hell was happening to him? Ember disappeared as a white light seared his tender vision. Headlights. He prayed they ran him over. He longed for just a few moments of peace.
Tires screeched as the vehicle lurched to a halt. He couldn’t move. He just lay there as two pairs of jean clad legs swam into sight and rough hands hauled him to his feet.
“Holy shit,” a male voice said. “Just look at him.”
Another male voice said, “I told you the spell would work. She did exactly what I said she would. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”
A female voice, chimed in, “The spell only worked because she’s not warded. She’d never have kicked him out of the pack if she was immune to compulsion.”
“I don’t care why it worked, as long as it worked,” the original male crowed.
The second male snorted, “Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius, get him in the van.”
They sounded familiar but he couldn’t place them. He hit the floor of the van with a grunt, grimacing at the scent of the dirty blanket beneath him. It smelled like blood and motor oil, a combination his stomach couldn’t tolerate at the moment. They’d spelled Ember. That’s why she’d sent him away. It made whatever came next a little easier to take.
A low, throaty chuckle came from somewhere above him. “Hold him down,” he recognized the voice immediately.
He gathered every ounce of strength he could muster to growl, “When I get my strength back I’m going to drain your whole coven, you bitch.”
Stella laughed again as two hooded figures yanked his arms behind his back. The coven. One of their hoods fell back, revealing icy blonde hair. One of the triplets. How many of them were there in the van?
Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1) Page 44