Touch

by Rose Wulf

  “That’s what I thought,” Eric muttered after several seconds, arms falling back to his sides. “All talk and no action. I guess some things never change.”

  “And what’s your excuse?” Angela demanded angrily. “You talk like your whole life goal is killing me, you finally have me completely in your grasp, and yet I’m still breathing. You haven’t even really shocked me. Why?” Better question. Why the hell am I egging on a proven murderer?

  Eric’s hands fisted at his sides and he replied, “I told you that already. We’re sharing your death. Jacob should be here soon and your final hour will end.”

  Angela laughed, the sound full of incredulity with a tinge of terror that she hoped he didn’t hear. “My final hour? Really? Wow, you’re full of originality right now, aren’t you?”

  “Does it make you feel better to mock me?” Eric asked, his calm returning. “Did you somehow manage to forget that you’re defeated and tied to a chair awaiting your execution when you mock the man who’s already beaten you?”

  “Man, huh?” Angela taunted with a deliberately arched brow. Because, well, she didn’t have anything to lose by taunting him at this point. Her only hope was to try to throw him off his game. “When did that happen? You think paying for sex makes you a man? Or did you finally reach manhood after murdering my uncle?”

  Eric snorted. “You really think I’d bother to pay?”

  “Oh,” Angela replied as her stomach churned at the actual possibility she was about to suggest. “What, are you cleaning up the streets by killing the hookers after you’re done with them?”

  “You’re starting to get annoying.”

  “Then shut me up,” Angela returned. Yes, please, shut me up. What the hell am I doing? She only hoped she knew because apparently, her mouth had decided on a course of action before her brain had. “Oh, wait, that’s right, you can’t. You’re waiting on big brother to show you how it’s done.”

  Eric swung out and his hand collided with the side of her jaw, sending her head snapping to the left. “I’ve had about enough of your noise. One more syllable and I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” she pushed, managing a broader grin despite the ache in her face. “Clearly, you won’t be killing me, so what do I have to lose?”

  Eric pulled in a breath and dropped his arms to his sides. “I’ll take a trip to the hospital and, if by some miracle Prescott managed to survive that gunshot, I’ll make sure he never wakes up.”

  Angela swallowed her next retort at the images that assaulted her mind’s eye in the next instant. Vaughn… She’d left him bloody and unconscious—unstable—on the lawn of her new house. How long had he lain there before the ambulance showed up? Had he made it to the hospital? Or is he … gone? Her stomach plummeted and she didn’t quite manage to fight back all her tears. One escaped and betrayed her by rolling slowly down her cheek. I’m a terrible girlfriend.

  He’d confessed a difficult secret to her and what had she done? She’d gotten mad at him.

  She’d never even told him she loved him.

  “Ah,” Eric taunted smugly, “I see you’ve still got a couple of functioning brain cells, then. That’s good for you. And better for everyone else.”

  The door up above opened and Angela didn’t bother to retort. There was only one thing that could mean. Jacob’s here. And if Jacob was there, then Eric was right whether she liked it or not. Her final hour was at hand.

  “What the hell took you so long?” Eric snapped as the steady, deliberate footfalls of the newcomer descended the stairs. “I expected you nearly an hour ago.”

  “I got interrupted,” Jacob replied as he stepped into the minimal light provided by the overhead fluorescent.

  “Was it Sarah?”

  Jacob flicked a glare at his sibling. “It hardly matters. Sarah won’t be interrupting us again.”

  When he shifted his glare to Angela, looking at her directly for the first time, she had to suck in a breath. She’d anticipated some nasty scarring, it was true, but her imagination hadn’t done it justice. Dean had really done a number on him.

  “Do my scars unsettle you?” Jacob asked with an arrogantly bored kind of curiosity.

  Swallowing, Angela replied, “No. But if you don’t like them, you might want to consider leaving me alive long enough to heal them.”

  Eric snorted again and re-crossed his arms. “That’s rich.”

  “No,” Jacob replied calmly. “I wear these scars proudly, in honor of my father’s memory.”

  “That’s fitting,” Angela heard herself say. Apparently, she’d decided to release every insult she could think of until they killed her. “One blemish for every life that monster ruined.” Or maybe she was just suicidal.

  “Do you think it wise to aggravate us?” Jacob asked pointedly. The air sparked as the ambient electricity doubled.

  Angela swallowed and narrowed her eyes at him. “What’ve I got to lose? Are you saying if I play nice you’ll let me walk out of here?”

  “Only if you believe in ghosts,” Eric returned.

  Jacob held out his hand when Eric took a step forward, cutting him off without removing his own gaze from Angela. “No,” he assured her. “But perhaps we’ll let your family survive. You are the last legacy. With your death, it will be only a matter of decades before the elementals are eradicated from this planet.”

  Her stomach sank and the breath rushed from her lungs as she considered his point. She’d always secretly hoped that, somewhere, there was another thriving elemental family. But something told her Jacob—or at least his father—had done his homework, so she had no choice but to believe his words. I’m the last legacy… Her entire race depended on her.

  How was anyone supposed to carry that burden?

  “You’re more than your destiny, Angela.” Vaughn’s words echoed again in her ears and the tears that had begun to burn behind her eyes faded. He was right.

  “You’re wrong,” Angela returned quietly as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She returned Jacob’s glare. “Even if you kill me, even if you kill my entire family, the elementals will live on.” She paused for a second, enjoying the flicker of confused suspicion in the dangerous eyes locked on hers. “Because we’re all the same. Your family controls different elements, but they’re still elements. So long as you survive—you and any children you someday have—the elemental legacy will continue.”

  “That’s enough,” Jacob snarled, his lip curling as something invisible in the air snapped and a short, agonizing shot of electricity passed through Angela’s body. “Just listening to the rubbish in your mind makes me sick.” He turned slightly, glancing toward his brother. “Eric, it’s time.”

  Angela’s attention shifted to Eric in time to see him nod on an intake of breath. “Good,” he replied. But there was something odd in his voice, and he didn’t quite bother lifting his glare to her directly.

  She didn’t have time to dwell on his behavior, though, because the brothers separated and began walking around her. As if they were performing some sort of ritual. And I’m the sacrifice. The charge in the air began rapidly increasing and her stomach rolled. There was no way this would end well.

  They stopped and again turned to face her when she was exactly between them. One brother to her left, one to her right. She could only barely see them both in her peripheral vision. To get a good look at one would be to turn her back to the other. It was awkward and frightening all at the same time.

  “Why the show?” Angela asked despite herself. “Why not just strike me down and be done?”

  “After all these years,” Jacob replied calmly, “to finally end this war so simply would be anticlimactic.” He extended one arm, palm facing her. “This way, your death is symbolic.”

  Angela dragged in a shaky breath, watching out of the corner of her eye as Eric mimicked his brother’s motions. So they weren’t doing this to scare her or because it somehow increased their strength. They were just doing it for ceremony. That’s so much
worse. The air was nearly unbearable now. It was starting to choke her. She felt as if she were trying to breathe through a heavy, coarse blanket about an hour after eating bad dairy. And the worst part was the knowledge that she’d miss this sensation very soon.

  “Good riddance, elemental,” Jacob said coldly as the deadly energy in the air began gathering around his palm.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as the room was suddenly flooded with bright, searing light and braced herself. If it was even possible to brace herself for the kind of pain that was heartbeats away from tearing into her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What the hell?” Eric exclaimed at about the same moment that Angela realized she hadn’t been struck.

  Could they have missed? It seemed impossible, but the temperature in the room had definitely spiked and she could hear the distinct crackle of fire.

  Her eyes flew open as she realized there was another option. As soon as she looked, she was sure she was right. The whole ceiling was engulfed in flickering, menacing flames.

  “It would seem we have visitors,” Jacob stated, irritation filling his voice.

  Ignoring her captors, Angela did the only thing she could think of. She pulled in a shaky but slightly easier breath and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Eric and Jacob snapped their glares back to her and Eric reached out as if to strike her again. “Will you shut u—”

  “Angie!” Dean’s familiar, angry, frightened voice hollered as the door flew open and crashed against the far wall in a ball of fire.

  “You’re too late, Hawke,” Jacob said, making his way to the stairs. “You cannot stop us.”

  “Dean!” Angela cried. “Down here!”

  Eric’s hand fisted in her hair and yanked her head back sharply. Faint twinges of pain stung her scalp as a little of his natural electricity leaked out. “Take another step, Dean, and you’ll get to watch your sister die.”

  “The choice is yours,” Jacob added. “If you don’t want to watch, you should leave.”

  “Trust me,” Dean returned, fists shaking at his sides, “I’m the one you should be paying attention to right now.” A whip of flame snapped down from the ceiling, crashing into Eric’s outstretched arm and forcing him to release Angela in order to leap back. That same fiery extension shifted and burned through the ropes holding her down as effectively as any sharp blade.

  Angela jumped to her feet as soon as she was free, knowing this was her best opportunity. Of course, she was going to have to get past Jacob at the very least.

  “Freeing her won’t save her,” Jacob warned, feigned calm still coloring his voice.

  “Funny. I kinda thought it would.”

  Angela saw Jacob’s expression darken with hatred and he spun even as she approached. His arm swung out and the electricity he was summoning cracked visibly in the air. She felt it arc from his skin, headed straight toward her, and knew he wasn’t holding back. He really did intend to kill her, and there was nowhere she could go.

  With a furious roar echoed by the still-burning flame, Dean crashed into Jacob and tackled him to the concrete floor. The blast of lightning veered off course, crashing into the ceiling and feeding the fire. Several chunks of charred drywall fell to the ground.

  “Dean!” Angela cried, horrified, as she watched her brother roll from the impact of his tackle. Surely, that had hurt him. Jacob had been channeling too much energy for it not to.

  “Get out of here!” Dean ordered.

  “But—”

  “Angela, hurry!” another voice called from the stairs. Her head snapped over even as she processed who it was. Bruce Prescott, Vaughn’s father. He stood in the doorway, braving the nearby flames, and held his arm out to her expectantly.

  A wall of fire erupted behind her, startling Angela, and she realized Eric had tried to grab her again.

  “Go!” Dean shouted.

  “Running won’t help you this time!” Eric called over the fire.

  “Dean,” Angela cried, turning stinging eyes back toward her brother, who still struggled with Jacob. “Come with me!”

  “I’ll be right behind you!” he exclaimed with a couple of grunts.

  Bruce coughed—whether to get her attention or because of the smoke, she had no idea—and shouted, “Angela, please, let’s leave!”

  Sucking in a smoky breath, Angela finally gave in and sprinted up the stairs. “Dean, come on,” she called over her shoulder. She might be willing to leave the basement without him, but she wouldn’t abandon him completely.

  Something exploded behind her and she stumbled, falling forward with a shout. Bruce caught her before she could hit her face and hauled her up with surprising ease. “We have to get outside,” he insisted.

  “But— Dean’s still down there!”

  Bruce turned her forcibly from the smoke-clogged entry of the basement. “We can’t help him if we burn down with the house.”

  She knew he was right, and she knew Dean wouldn’t want her running into a dangerous situation on his behalf. It was still hard to move forward when she was worried about her brother. The explosion hadn’t obliterated the basement, but it had come from Dean’s vicinity. Would he really be okay?

  Would she ever forgive herself if he wasn’t?

  She was still lost in her latest nightmare when she stumbled out into the open, though still smoky, air. And right into her father’s arms.

  “Angela! Oh, thank God. Are you all right?” Christopher practically scooped her off her feet, simultaneously talking and turning, and tried navigating her toward one of the nearest vehicles. She vaguely recognized it as Bruce’s.

  “I—” she choked, breaking into a coughing fit, and tears surged behind her eyes. “Dean … he’s still inside. And … Vaughn—” It was too much. She could well have managed to be the reason two of the men she loved most in the world had died. In the same day, no less. She should probably do the world a favor and throw herself back into the burning basement.

  “Look out!” another voice—female—shouted in warning a second before another explosion split the air. This one was filled with high-voltage electricity, enough to kill anyone on impact, elemental or not. Anyone, Angela was sure, except for the woman who’d just thrown herself in its path.

  “Riley!” Bruce exclaimed as the dust settled again.

  Riley? Vaughn’s aunt … who would also, Angela realized, have elemental lineage.

  “Oh,” Riley breathed, sounding as if she’d just stepped off a wild roller coaster. “That was a rush.”

  “What the … hell?” Eric said from the doorway of his house, arm still outstretched, confused shock blatant on his face.

  Riley lifted her gaze from her shirt—where she’d taken the hit—and said, “You’re not the only one around here immune to lightning. Also, that was my nephew you left bleeding earlier.”

  “Another weather-elemental?” Eric asked, dumbfounded. His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing saving them?”

  “Wow, really?” Riley returned, sounding genuinely surprised. “You think because my grandfather could hurl lightning bolts like you do, I automatically have to side with you? That’s the most ridiculous logic I’ve ever heard.”

  “Riley,” Bruce began carefully. “I don’t think you should antagonize the enemy.”

  “What are you guys doing?” Riley countered with a glance over her shoulder. “Get out of here! I’m buying you time!”

  “She’s right,” Christopher said, tightening the arm he still had around Angela’s shoulders. “I have to get Angela out of here.”

  Dean… “No!” Angela cried, struggling to find the strength to push free of his embrace. “Not without Dean!”

  Eric choked on a laugh and let a deliberately dark chuckle fill the air. “Dean? Dean’s dead, Angie. And you’re next.”

  Tears immediately stung the backs of Angela’s eyes. Dean … dead? It was what she’d been afraid of, but could it really be true? She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t w
ant to have to think about Kira growing up without a father or Arianna losing her husband so soon. She didn’t want to live with the guilt of having gotten her brother killed.

  “I’ll kill you all!” Eric declared, lifting his arm to the sky.

  A hard gust of air rushed past them and slammed into Eric practically before his words reached their ears, throwing him up and into the wall above where he’d been standing. The air receded after a prolonged second, letting Eric collapse to the ground face-first.

  “Nate,” Angela breathed as the wind seemed to vanish. “Nate! You have to find Dean!”

  Gurgled but no less effective laughter drifted over to them as Eric pushed himself to his knees. He wiped a smear of blood from his face and said, “You just can’t accept reality, can you? Dean is dead.”

  Angela swallowed, searching for a comeback that didn’t also sort of sound like an admission of defeat. Her father tensed at her side and she didn’t dare look at him. She wasn’t ready to face the reality of what she’d done, what she’d cost her family.

  “If that’s true,” Nate called as he emerged from the back of their father’s Navigator, clad in only a pair of jeans, “I’ll make you wish you’d died with him.” The wind kicked up again, seeming to lift off the ground and swirl up, blowing everyone’s hair into their faces.

  “Go ahead,” Eric replied. “I don’t expect to survive this, anyway.” He paused and narrowed his eyes as his gaze shifted back to Angela. “But I don’t plan on dying alone.”

  Nate stepped up to Christopher’s other side and glanced over at Angela. “Angie, you okay?”

  Her jaw trembled as she fought to restrain her emotions. “That’s … a stupid question.”

  Nate inclined his head and looked forward again. “So, what are you gonna do, then? Do you even have the strength left to make another big play?”

  Eric smirked, pushed back to his feet, and returned the question. “Do you? I imagine flying all the way up here from Darien, in elemental form, has already taken its toll.”