by Scott Tracey
Embrace the pain, Jason said. Stop running, Trey said. Everyone always telling me what to do. For once, I listened.
I drew on the magic, without words, and without any sort of safety net. I took everything that was building around me, and took the power from it. I didn’t have to speak; my vision was a crystal voice, drawing as much magic from the city as I could. I could totally do this.
As flames and energy crashed around me, the link with Lucien severed itself and returned the room to its normal emptiness. Too much, and too fast. The last time I’d channeled this much energy, I hadn’t been able to control it when it got loose.
I knew where the shadows were, where the trail of Lucien’s power was arcing toward Trey. Even if I couldn’t see them, they were still there. I thought of the sun. Shadows and sunlight never played well together. I just hoped it was enough.
I twisted the magic in on itself, honing it into sunlight and filling it with purpose. Destruction. Once the magic had a direction, it lasered out of me. When it reached the center of the room, it suddenly stopped.
Then, it swallowed everything.
It was like a supernova had been unleashed. The tiny little ball of magic fell in on itself until it pulled a Big Bang. Dazzling sunlight flared through the room.
I could handle a lot, and most of the things I saw were hard to perceive but still possible … but this much light was agony. My exposure to real, unfiltered light had always been taken in short, sickly-sweet sips. And now I was drowning.
I tried to close my eyes, but couldn’t. I saw every bit of sunlight that tore through the room and eviscerated the shadows.
I heard Trey fall to the ground, or at least I heard a thump that might have been him. But my vision was a solid wall of white, and my head pulsed with a seventeen-hammer orchestra.
“What are you doing?” There was no mistaking Lucien’s snarl. What kind of future was he seeing now?
Using that much magic, and seeing it in action, was worse than any normal vision. The pain still thrusted in my head—an arrow that wouldn’t remove itself. It just ground against the insides of my skull, etching in grooves and lines. More arrows joined the first, all scrawling secret messages inside my skull.
“Don’t be an idiot!” I couldn’t see what Lucien was doing, but I knew I still had to act. If I didn’t, he’d kill Trey.
I gathered up the magic, picturing it as it dispersed all over the room. I took it back, recycling the power and hardening it into steel.
It wasn’t as neat as the binding circle John had trapped me in, but the core of it was the same. I slammed a wall into the room, a force of air that warbled and wavered even as it tightened around Lucien. The wall was tenuous at first, slowly hardening from something fragile like a balloon into something like steel. Boxing him in.
It was the first thing I saw when my vision started to clear. A silver and blue bubble, barely more than five feet across.
I was rattling so hard it felt like even my lungs were shuddering in my chest. My knees gave out from under me, and I fell.
On the other side of the room, I saw Trey rise up.
Lucien’s eyes didn’t glow so much as they gloomed, shadows that were growing darker inside the bubble. He reached out to press his fingertips against the edge of the shield. The blues and silvers arced like bottled lightning, separating from each other and slowly tearing apart the shape. The harder he pressed, the faster the lightning arced around the shield.
I drew more magic through my body and into the spell. Harder. It has to be stronger! I was just the conduit—the focus to keep the magic stable. But the harder I pushed, the harder Lucien pushed back. And the faster the spell continued to crumble.
“You’re making a mistake, boy.”
I couldn’t keep this up. But I wouldn’t back down, and I wouldn’t give up. Sweat poured down my face, so cold I thought for sure it must have been freezing against my skin. “I won’t let you hurt him.”
As far as intimidating voices go, mine was not one of them. I was lucky I could still make audible sounds.
I’m pushing as hard as I can, and it’s not enough. A half hour ago, I’d been willing to make a deal with Lucien, knowing what he was.
Now, he wanted to kill Trey. And maybe me, too.
Then Trey surprised the hell out of both of us.
¤ ¤ ¤
“I’ll shoot him, Fallon!” The gun was pointed at me, and there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation on Trey’s face.
Lucien’s manicured fingers hesitated, and gave my spell a much-needed chance to regroup. “You wouldn’t,” he said, his tone musing as his eyes flickered left and right. Reading, the way he’d read me when we first met face to face. Just as abruptly, his voice changed to a certainty full of wonder. “You would.”
The guy I’d fallen for, the one who’d made Belle Dam a more comfortable place to be, was gone. As I looked at him, all I could see was cold, hard lines of icy loyalty and purpose. He wouldn’t look at me.
Trey would shoot me. After all, I was the enemy. I was the one who’d played him. I’d used him.
But I didn’t want to die. “Trey, you can’t—”
“Shut up!” Trey’s aim never hesitated; it was locked on me.
“I saved your life, you asshole!” This was the thanks I got. I was pushing as much magic through me as I could. There wasn’t an ounce left to try and defend myself. Release it, and Lucien would finish the job. To save me?
It was getting hard to breathe. With every pump of my heart, my head throbbed, and in the space between, more images continued to shove themselves inside.
I wouldn’t even die in peace.
“I thought you could take care of yourself?” Trey’s voice was like steel, but at the moment his voice died, his eyes met mine, and I saw through him.
I can’t shoot him but I have to blue agony and rose colored remorse so desperate Fallon will kill me him us but he’s shaking little Braden like rabbits. Something bad will happen he can take care of himself but must stop Fallon this is agony hell despair.
Flashes of reds and pinks hidden under a silver shroud of determination. Heat, and desire, and pain. I only saw through him for a moment, but it was long enough. Trey was the one who always followed through. Determined. Never wavering from what he wanted. He didn’t want to, but he’d shoot me if he had to. Unless I could stop Lucien.
“Put the gun down, Trey.” I could feel the strain on the binding spell ease, as Lucien watched us both. Waiting to see how this all played out.
“You’re Jason’s son?” The cords in Trey’s arms flexed as he gripped the gun tighter. “You’re working with him?”
There was no sense in denying it. “I was.” Vertigo was starting to set in. All that magic, rushing into me and out into the barrier surrounding Lucien, was starting to sweep me away with it. It felt like my feet were falling asleep, tingling slowly as sensation struggled to assert itself.
“My mother was right about you.”
He had to know the words would sting. Had to know just how bad it would hurt. But he didn’t care. And in that moment, neither did I. I was as much a part of the magic as I was the container, and before I even realized it, cords of power were extending out from me, wrapping around Trey. My anger pushed at the magic, demanding pain in return. The spell Jason had used on me, but far stronger.
His hand with the gun dropped, his muscles going slack. I could feel the way it affected him, vertigo that was quickly setting every nerve ending into a screaming frenzy. Pain, and lots of it.
He gasped, and the sound drew me back. Oh god. What was I doing? Hurting Trey? Even if he had been pointing a gun at me, this wasn’t me.
To my right, Lucien cleared his throat. It felt like my head moved in slow motion. Inside the binding wall I’d thrown around him, the air had gone black. I
couldn’t see inside, nothing but the flaring sparks of light where my spell held.
Then it erupted, raining magic down on me as I was thrown to my knees.
“Let me make something clear.” Lucien strolled toward me. “I can take the pain from you.” Looking down on me made him seem even more smug. “Or I can make it worse than you’ve ever felt.”
My skull exploded. Shrapnel dug into every single part of my consciousness. Every thought I’d ever had was lanced and filleted and set on fire. My mind was torn apart, shredded into tiny pieces only to pull itself back together long enough for the cycle to continue. I was screaming. Dying. This wasn’t fire, and this wasn’t pain. It was hell.
Just as quickly as it started, the pain vanished. But I’d never forget the feeling. My whole body was shaking now, a broken mess of muscles that didn’t understand a single thing I wanted them to do.
“The boy has to die.” Lucien stood above me, but all I could see was a corner of his shoes. My stomach revolted, choking gasps of icy air punctuating the dry heaving.
“W-why?” I croaked between heaves.
Somehow, I managed to look up. And I saw the rest.
Fear like stinking humanity clawing against the holes in this body, the boy has to die. Everything centers around it. So much power in a new war, feasting for generations to make myself powerful again, and mend what she broke. That bitch, if I ever find her, I’ll carve her soul into diamonds.
And I saw flashes of images. Visions and impressions and feelings all wrapped up into one.
Trey and I, together, bound together by things deeper than physical touches and feelings. And in our wake, fires raged out of control, battles and feuds that were yet to come, and Lucien, kneeling before me.
I watched half in fascination, half in horror. He begged for mercy, but I had none. This other Braden—future Braden—was so cold. Ice and steel, not blood and bone. Lucien cowered beneath us, and I unraveled him … somehow. Finished what Grace had started and left him nothing but ash.
That’s what this is all about, I realized. “You’re scared of us,” I whispered. “What we’re going to do.” He needed me, but he couldn’t risk Trey and I together.
It gave me hope, at what was the worst possible time. Maybe we had a chance after all.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed slightly, the first shadow of disbelief crossing his face. “You know nothing.” He started to raise his hand.
I felt the power calling from the cemetery, the door I hadn’t fully opened. I pulled at it, calling it to me with every ounce of willpower I had. The moment I started, Lucien’s hand stopped again. He hesitated.
I didn’t try to think it through. Didn’t have that luxury, and the wrong twitch might reveal the deception I was planning.
I threw myself into the spell and into the energy I had raised. The moment the energy peaked, I hurled it toward Trey, a spell with no words. No tools, no limits.
My body was nearly useless, ravaged so hard I couldn’t even stand. But Trey’s wasn’t. And that’s what I was counting on. My mind soared out of my body, riding on the tip of the spell as it slammed into Trey. There was only a second of resistance before I flowed inside of him like water.
Trey’s mind was full of rigid lines of obedience, hard edges where he’d had to develop a thicker skin, and corners that kept out the light. There wasn’t time to explore it all, as much as I wanted to.
Shock assaulted me, an alien presence that pressed against my control. There wasn’t any time to explain to Trey that I’d hijacked a ride on the spell and shoved him out of his own body’s control. I pushed it down, pressing on bits of spirit and thought that radiated Trey.
Everything looks so drab to him. Seeing the world through Trey’s eyes was anticlimactic. No matter how many times I’d wished to be free of the witch eyes, I’d never pictured it would be so … unimpressive. Bland.
From here, I could have stopped Trey’s heart, shut down his nervous system. Anything I wanted. Trey’s body and mind were at my disposal, and there was nothing he could do to resist.
I pivoted to the left and fired the gun in his hand. Right into Lucien.
Trey had training with the gun that I couldn’t have duplicated without years of practice. I’d never even fired a gun before, let alone fired a gun at something. But Trey’s muscle memory was strong, his body knew what I wanted, and the gunshot barely caused his arm to snap back in recoil.
The moment the gun fired, the spell faded and I snapped back into my own body.
As I straightened my head, I caught a glimpse of Lucien right before he fell out of my sight, hidden on the other side of the desk. A single bullet had taken him through the eye, leaving a bloody and violent hole in its wake.
I managed only a single, racking cough before everything in my stomach made its way to the surface. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought there was blood.
As I knelt there, heaving my guts out, I heard Trey walk around the side of the desk and crouch down in front of me.
“He … he saw … ” I could barely think, but the one thought that came clear was that I had to explain to Trey. I had to make him understand.
“It’s okay.” He touched his fingers to the back of my head, and I flinched. “Here.” He was so gentle I had to strain to hear the words.
The splotchy mess on the ground under me was soon punctured by pure red drops. Slow at first, it started to grow into a steady stream as my nose released everything. I whimpered, and felt fingers slide around my eyes. Cold plastic found its home as the glasses settled, and even as my vision dimmed … it still wasn’t enough.
“You have to go.” I couldn’t think straight, but I knew if Trey stayed, it would be bad. Jason would blame him. Maybe try to kill him, too.
Just as quickly as the moment happened, it was over. “I’ll call your father. Will you be okay until he gets here?”
The migraine kept growing, like a train coming out of a tunnel. I started whimpering. Nodding was out of the question, but I tried.
“He’ll think I did this to you.”
I felt him move away, and I curled up in a ball behind the desk. I think I might have been lying in breakfast, but it didn’t matter.
“You did great, Cyke.”
Days could have passed, and I wouldn’t have known. I tried to focus on something, anything other than the pulsing, but the pain was merciless and wouldn’t let me forget.
Finally, someone came for me. I never even opened my eyes. All I knew was that it wasn’t Trey.
Thirty-Three
One week later
“You’re out of bed, that’s a start, right?” Jade’s voice was quiet. She’d been here every day, the nurses said. They thought she was my girlfriend.
Riley had only visited once, and only stayed a few minutes before she darted out of the room. The whole time she was there, I didn’t hear a single clacking sound. It freaked me out.
Jade wouldn’t tell me what was going on with Riley at first. She changed the subject every time I brought it up. I kept pushing.
“I think she’s scared. Not that she’d tell me if she was. But she thinks Catherine did something to you. Maybe she thinks she’s next,” Jade had whispered, resting her hand gently over mine. I knew there was something more to it, but nothing huge. There had been some whispered fight between the two of them out in the hallway before Riley had come in. Jade refused to talk about it.
For the first few days, I’d spent almost all my time dripping with as many drugs as Jason could order the doctor to give me. By the second day, the headaches still hurt, but I was so drugged up I didn’t even care anymore.
They told me, eventually, that I’d started having seizures after being admitted. Despite giving me pills they thought would stop them, the seizures kept coming and there was nothing they could do but let m
e ride them out. They still weren’t sure how much damage had been done.
I had a dream, at least I think it was a dream, where Jason talked to one of the doctors. The words “permanent” and “possible blindness” came up often.
My eyes had been bandaged up with thick rolls of cotton, siphoning off every last shred of light that might have opened me up to the visions. It pulled at my hair, and made my skin itch, but they wouldn’t remove it. Everything to keep me safe, Jason had assured me.
“Why are you here? Isn’t your mother going to find out?” Finally, I’d pushed the nurse to let me out of bed. A struggle of words quickly turned into a struggle to control my legs, which shuddered and threatened revolution at the first sign of strain. It was like I hadn’t walked in years, instead of days. Finally, I pushed my way into the chair. I could feel sunlight on my face. But the world was still black.
“She knows Jason’s taking care of you. I don’t think she knows the rest yet. It’s just a matter of time,” Jade admitted. When I’d woken up, I’d found out that Jade knew the truth. Jason was my father. “She’s not talking to me much right now. Gentry either.”
I swallowed. Every day, I hoped to hear his footsteps in the hallway, to hear his voice in the room. But that never happened. “How is he?”
Jade pulled away, her fingers resting against my palm for only a moment. “I don’t know,” she said in a quiet tone. “He’s off by himself a lot.” The truth of it all hurt. Stung, actually. I’d hoped for something more.
She touched my neck, fingering the cool silver of the necklace John had given me in another lifetime. Her fingers touched something new, a weight I hadn’t felt before. “Trey gave me this. I put it on the chain when you were still asleep.”
“What is it?”
“Just a little star. He thinks it’ll keep you safe.”
A pentacle? I traced my fingers over it, and felt the circle surrounding thick lines. It was big; at least I thought so.