by Avery Duncan
“Meet me, quickly. You know where to go. I fear I do not have much longer before I perish.”
“How much time, father?” She was already getting to her feet, forgetting completely about her elbow and letting her frost-seeping wings take flight.
“Not…much,” he responded weakly, before the connection was cut off.
Devlin beat her wings hard, tears already blurring her vision. She had lost two of the most important men in her life this day, and she had a feeling there was no way to get them back. Ever.
~*~
Mike stared down into the portal, emotions warring. It wasn’t in his nature to care, or to even think about what he was doing. Live in the moment and die hard – except, he couldn’t die. Or live, for that matter. So basically, he just did whatever the hell he wanted to, when he wanted to. And right now, he wanted to help that woman.
With a fine mist spread across the glass, he looked into the mirror and saw himself behind a scene. A scene of pain and absolute fuck-up. Her body did a weird sort of…slump, against the ground. And then the blood rushing out of her back spread to the ground. The king, Zyn, gave the largest and most painful cries Mike had ever heard, and tore the blonde man’s head from his body.
And Talon…. Mike knew it was desperation that had the chains ripping from the wall. There was no way anything else could have freed him. He dragged himself to his dark-haired lover and wrapped his arms around her, tightly. Even though he only heard what was happening with a fuzzy ear, as if they were miles away, he could hear him pleading with her. He begged and begged, telling her he loved her, that she had to come back.
Mike turned the screen to the pale-haired witch, Amenia. Sister to Lyne’s former cheating wife, and not the most powerful witch in the universe. Despite her old age, her malicious side had kept her from advancing on in her powerful state. No, she was as weak as a babe compared to other witches he knew.
Talon was still clutching the woman, sobbing now.
So much pain, anguish, complete agony. How did he deal with it? Mike watched with a frown as he slowly lowered Jamie’s body to the ground, taking care to arrange her limbs, smoothing a hand over her forehead, tracing her lips. Her lifeless lips. Zyn was making good work on Chris, and Amenia was staring at the scene with a small smile to her lips. And then he made his way to the witch, who didn’t even notice.
Only Mike, who had known her for as long as he had, knew what she was thinking and feeling. Right now, the bloodbath was about to make her orgasm and he sure as hell couldn’t have that. This was just making him pissed off. He might get his ass chewed by Kevin for doing this, but he could really give a shit.
He reached into the mirror, grabbing her hair. She had gone too far, had cost too many lives and with Talon on a killing-rage, the world would go horribly out of balance. He grinned; couldn’t have that, now, could we? Poor Kevin would get his British bloomers in a twist.
“Unhand me!” she gasped. He let her slump to the floor in front of him.
“That must have been dreadfully painful,” he said casually. “Like glass, slicing through you? Yeah, I bet Talon knows how that feels, right.”
With pursed lips, she got to her feet and, only because he was the only thing saving her from a life of hell, bowed her head. She was the lesser and she knew it. He could even smell her fear behind her calm façade. It was like candy to a child, he thought happily.
“Now, I understand that you went on a bitch-rage and just killed an innocent –“
Her head snapped up. “She wasn’t –“
“Shut the hell up,” he growled. He liked playing games, liked to have fun. But when people interrupted him, it pissed him the hell off. Especially because she was wrong. Her face paled and she once again dropped her head. Yet even at the submissive pose, her hands were twisting under her robes.
“Interrupt me again, and I swear I won’t make your death a good one. Alright!” he chirped, clapping his hands. “You killed an innocent woman, while knowing that she was heir to the throne. You just got your king back, and you take away his daughter. Do you really think that was the smartest thing to do? Do you know what will happen now?”
When she gave no response, he barked, “Answer me, Amenia. I don’t have fucking time for you to act like this.”
She breathed out. “No, Creator. I don’t.”
“Your blind need for revenge is costing me one of my strongest races. Kevin is so focused on his damn Acutos and Archaeos shit that he’s all but forgotten about the other plane. And look what you’ve done,” he snapped, wishing that he didn’t have a thing against hitting women. “You’ve just screwed up my only chance at keeping you fuckers alive.”
If possible, her face lost even more color before.
He turned back to the portal, bidding her close with a large hand. “C’mere. Look at this.”
Hesitantly, she crossed the room and stood on the other side of the mirror, eyes widening. “Don’t touch it. Just look.” Her head dropped and he stared at her, hard, before following her gaze.
Talon was staring at Zyn, who was bloody and devastated. He had no color whatsoever, and Talon was a mirror image. Besides the two dead bodies, they were alone. In silence. Even from where he stood, he could read Talon as easily as a book. The king, however, not so much. They crossed the room to her body, and Talon was the first to fall.
Once again, he clutched her to his chest and just…sat there. In silence. Zyn stood over them, realization dawning on his face and then grief, worse than before. Mike got lost in the picture, and he bet Amenia did too. Her hands were clenched together, fisting. “He now knows how I felt when I lost my sister,” she whispered.
“You not only killed an innocent woman who deserved none of what has happened to her, you ruined my chance at salvaging the most powerful race that we have ever had.”
Amenia snapped her eyes to his, hissing. “He killed my sister!”
“No,” he barked, pushing her away from the mirror. “That was all Lyne! He took her head, and he is the one who took a turn for brown-nosing to live forever. Both of you are tainted with greed and it isn’t even because you loved your sister!” he shouted, disgusted.
Amenia jerked back a step.
“You like to deal pain. It’s what you do. You’re a conniving whore with nothing but her baby-girl powers going for her. You sensed Clover, didn’t you?” he inquired, closing the portal with a wave of his hands.
She paused, then nodded her head slowly. Her eyes turned downcast. “That woman could have easily taken you down. Lucian doesn’t know that you aren’t the best out there – that was for everyone’s safety. And now you think I’m going to keep protecting you after you killed that woman? And that wasn’t a rhetorical question, Amenia.”
Deafening silence. And then a nod. He laughed in a short burst. “Let me explain this to you. You are of the earth – by my commanding. I can give you back just as easily, and therefore save the throne or some other cliché-sounding shit like that. I’m sure that your powers would…” He didn’t finish his sentence, just smiled at her.
By the suddenly panicked look in her eyes and the high-pitched “no” that came from her, she knew exactly what he was going to do.
So much…purple. The floors, the chair, the table. The lights. Everything was just a dull purple.
Jamie sat there, confused. Why was she here right now? Shouldn’t she be… no, she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to be doing. Maybe she had been painting, Painting the room purple, or maybe just sitting there.
She didn’t know.
Really didn’t care to be honest…did they have purple toilets? She had to pee. Holding her stomach, she looked around for a door. Maybe she had been sitting here for a while. How long? Jamie looked around for a purple clock. She should paint one of those, she thought when she saw none.
“Jamie?”
“Hmm?” She looked at the wall, and would have missed him if he weren’t twirling around a small pocket watch. “Did you
know you match your wall?”
The man was the same exact color as his room and everything in it. He had purple hair, purple skin, black eyes, and purple clothes. He gave her a purple smile and nodded. “Did you know you match my wall, too?”
Jamie looked down at herself, frowning. “I do. Did you do it?” she asked, touching the hem of her purple shirt.
“Maybe,” he said chuckling, picking up her hand. It wasn’t purple like his.
“Do you use tanning lotion?” Wait, what was tanning lotion? She rubbed her forehead, brow furrowing.
“No, Jamie.” He brought her through a purple wall, and she didn’t realize how weird that was until she was on the other side. The purple man set her on a couch. She stared at him dully, not knowing what to do. Was he going to make her paint that mirror thing in the center of the room purple, too?
“Are you going to make me paint more things? Could I have an apron? I feel like the painting kind of spread to my clothes a lot…”
He shook his head, sitting next to her. Once again, he took her hand.
“Jamie, do you know where you are right now?”
She shook her head, noticing how deep his voice was. Then she frowned. “Are you God?”
He froze, and then shook his head. “I’m one of the four Creators. But I need to talk to you about some things, alright?”
Jamie nodded. Wow, his eyes were creepy… Maybe he was God, but he was lying to her. God couldn’t lie, though. Lying is a sin.
“Do you remember getting shot?” Jamie stared at him, wondering what the heck he was talking about.
“What’s your name?” she asked, realizing she didn’t know.
“My name is Mike. Now please, answer my question. Do you remember getting shot?”
Jamie shook her head. Mike was really purple, but why was he so serious? Purple was a really fun color, she thought. Purple guy’s should be fun.
“Like a basketball?”
He glowered, making her stand up and walking her to the mirror thing. He touched the side of it, just a brush of his finger on the shining steal that surrounded it. It bent on its own at an angle, and she saw herself.
She was in a different outfit, and she looked really fashionable. But she was in a weird dark room, and there was stone. Behind her was a slender woman with blonde hair and black eyes. She looked…happy. Jamie frowned as the scene changed quickly, to where a ruggedly handsome man was chained to a wall, a thick collar around his neck, and he was close to naked. All he had on was a pair of dark jeans, but even in the dark she could see the spots of blood that covered his chest.
Now Jamie was on the ground, and the longer she stared the more bile rose in her throat. A sickening blonde man was standing behind her, pulling out a gun. The man with the bare chest started to plead with him. Mutely, she could hear the desperation and pain in his voice. He was trying to make him spare her, she realized, eyes widening.
And then a flash came through the room. For some reason that she didn’t know, tears welled in her eyes. The new man was tall, almost reaching the top of the ceiling. She touched the ends of her hair. His hair looked much like hers, but short enough that it reached his shoulders. He had bright amethyst eyes and he looked like he was in pain.
She distantly heard the snarl he let out. Jamie clutched at her chest, a sob ripping from her throat. She had no clue what was happening, but the look on his face… A tear slid down her cheek.
And then she heard the pop of the gun. She watched as her body fell into the ground, and the man chained to the wall let out such a loud roar of pain that she heard it in her ears as if he were right next to her. She gasped, chest heaving. She knew Mike was watching her sob, but she didn’t care.
A pain tore through her back, as if she felt it. She brought large, watery eyes to his as she reached back. Warmness. Moist. She pulled her hands away and stared at the red liquid that covered them.
She screamed, horrified. “What’s happening?!” Jamie grabbed onto Mike’s arm, screaming again. She could feel it slide down her back.
“Jamie, do you remember dying in the forest? When you were a child of only seventeen? Do you remember that?” He pulled his arm from hers and suddenly, all of the blood disappeared.
Jamie was going hysterical. She could still feel the pain in her back, could feel the blood. But it wasn’t there. It was…gone.
She stared at him, breathing heavily. “Answer me,” he demanded, baritone turning even lower with his command.
Jamie shook her head. “Not at all? I know you remember that black-haired man. You have to remember,” he grated, touching the mirror angrily. Before, his movement had been slow, but now it was rushed and agitated.
She sobbed. The mirror was right in front of her face, showing her a horrifying image. That same man from in that dark, stoned room was sitting on a bed, next to her. His face was stony, yet she could tell he was bothered, worried. Nervous.
“Lucky charms. Brownies. Zyn. You have to remember. If you don’t, you die. Jamie, you have to remember.”
“…I never would have let any harm come to you…never doubt that you have a father that loves you as much as I do…” The image flashed to her, in the forest. A younger her. More guarded. Why did this feel so familiar? God… her head hurt. She brought a hand to her face, expecting to try to rub it away, and found tears. She covered her mouth, trying to stop another sob.
She was running from something, but she didn’t know what. Soon she was sprawled over the ground, and something was standing before her. It looked like a very thin tree, but it was white and moving. It reached down, touching a small open scratch on her cheek.
Like the one in the mirror, Jamie was screaming. Clawing at her face, her body. A burning pain shot through her body and she swore she felt like she was going to freeze to death. But it was so much more than that.
And then she remembered. Everything. Everything from those too dreams. She could remember dying, both times. She remembered begging someone to look away…begging someone to save her…dying, each time.
“I remember!” she screeched, grabbing her hair. “Make it stop! Please, just make it stop. Oh god, it hurts –“
It stopped. As quick as that, it was gone and she found herself on her knees, bowing in front of him, sobbing her heart out. He bent down, touching her shoulder.
“Jamie, who is that man?” She turned her head, weakly. The mirror was showing that man with the blood-splattered chest. His eyes were flashing from onyx to silver rapidly. He was standing over balcony, staring down at a night city.
She had no idea. Her eyes rolled back as pain coursed through her once again. “Tell me who that man is. Now, damnit!” He grabbed her shoulders and made her stare at the mirror even longer.
Jamie had no idea, but… “I love that man.” And she did. With all of her heart and soul, so much that just seeing the agony in his eyes was enough to make her physically ache for him.
“Do you want to be with him?” he asked, staring at her.
Without looking away from the mirror, from that man, she nodded.
“Would you risk your life to be with him?”
“Yes,” she whispered, reaching out with a gentle hand to touch the mirror, to trace his cheek. As her fingers brushed down the side of his face, a tear fell from it, following the path of her finger.
Jamie looked at Mike. “What do I have to do.”
“Just give me your hand.”
She hesitated, holding her hand to her chest. “You said you would risk your life for his, that you would do anything to be with him. This is going to hurt like a fucker, but I need you to just listen to me and trust me. Alright, Jamie?”
She took a breath and took his outstretched hand. in his palm was the pocket watch.
Jamie screamed.
It had been two days since that day in the cellar.
Two days since he had been sober.
Two days since he hadn’t thought about killing himself
Two fucking days sin
ce he had lost his soul.
He grabbed the edge of the door, holding himself up. The ground seemed to be getting closer, though, and soon enough it was attacking him like a bitch. Fog was swirling around his mind and it was everything he could do to pass out on his doorstep.
By then, the only thing he wanted was to sleep, because when he slept?
He got to hold Jamie. Got to kiss her, see her, feel her. In his dreams, she was right there with him, holding his hand, laughing with him, smiling at him with those beautiful pale eyes of hers. Everything about her was just...real -- but only in his dreams.
Lucian had gone into depression. Zyn had locked himself into his temporary room. Talon was...close to dying. He could feel her slipping away from him. At first, it had seemed as if she were still next to him, still...with him. Now, though, it felt as if he was losing her with each passing second.
Talon grabbed the handle of the door, pulling himself up. It took all of his strength to push the door open, to crawl into bed and not sob. But he managed, and when his eyes closed, he saw Jamie and her loving smile.
Mike stood over Talon’s bed, knowing that when he got back, Kevin was going to bitch in his ear about leaving and interfering and all of that other boring shit. He could really care less, though. At least right now. Jamie was floating limply next to him, shoulders hunched, face pale and void of all color and emotion.
“Can I...go to him?” she asked wanly, her voice sounding older than Mike actually was.
He nodded. “Just crawl into the bed and sleep. When you wake up, everything will be normal and you won’t be so weak. I’m very sorry that I had to do that...”
She turned her head to the bed, moving a foot slowly. It took her ages, but she made it. “Don’t...say sorry. Sleep. Him. Please...” Mike nodded, helping to lift her into place. Her form was nothing but a ghostly apparition, barely visible. He wouldn’t have known she was there if she hadn’t been moving, blurring the scene on the other side of her.