Are you telling me I just saved your entire species?
I run my palms down her back. The Legend Mirror owes you.
It owes me big time.
I laugh and kiss her, chaste and soothing.
“Not to interrupt but—what the hell just happened?”
I cut a heated look at the Phoenix’s son. “She just saved your skin is what happened.”
“Yasmin.” Fray’s whisper holds my attention. “They’re waking up.”
She’s right. Even without their memories, these Pures shouldn’t see us. And I made a deal to bring the Phoenix’s son back with us. I can feel the binding vow urging me out the door and back to Callaire.
I tell him, “Your father asked us to find you. I’m Yasmin Ix Man.” Then, just to be sure, I ask, “You’re the Phoenix’s son, aren’t you?”
He groans, sinking against the bar. “If I say no, what are the odds you’ll leave me alone?”
“Not a chance,” Fray says sternly. She looks him up and down, taking him apart with one look. “You’re coming back with us.”
He rolls his head back, sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. “And if I stay here instead?”
I say, “You might die.”
“Well.” He blinks at my serious tone. “I’d better get my coat. I’m Ran, by the way.” He looks around for a startled moment, and then he tells us, very seriously, “I didn’t bring a coat.”
“We’re leaving,” Fray snaps, grabbing one of Ran’s arms. I take his other side and we haul him out of the pub and down the street.
It’ll be alright, I tell Fray, sensing her worry.
She’s gonna know, she disagrees. The Numen from the memory you saw. If she wasn’t already watching me, she will be now.
I won’t let them hurt you. I let the fierceness of my need to protect Fray echo across our connection. My heart gives a painful twist, and for a second I acknowledge the fact that I care for her. A lot.
THIRTY FOUR
THE PHOENIX’S SON
Ran slept all the way back to Callaire, sprawled across the back seat of Fray’s purple Clio, snoring and drooling, so I don’t know what to expect of him this morning.
I pad softly into the living room, gnawing my lip.
I needn’t have worried. He’s still asleep, a tanned arm slung carelessly over his face. He mutters in his sleep but I don’t strain to pick out the words.
Half asleep, I power up my laptop to check today’s news, specifically for people with amnesia—who may have lost their Majick. What I stumble across instead is an angry red headline: WIFE OF MAN KILLED BY BEAST DEMANDS JUSTICE. I open the article, dread running through me. Sure enough it’s the wife of the man I killed at the last moon—Wilfred Stirling, 43. His wife Cilla demands the hunters put me down.
My throat closes up. I slam the laptop shut.
Ran jerks awake. He looks around himself, clearly not recognising a thing, and finds me. “Must’ve been a good night,” he mutters to himself.
“You used your Majick in front of Pures. If that’s your definition of a good night, it was great!”
He winces. “Can you … quiet … shh.”
I sit on the floor and glare him down. The beast encourages my anger. “If it wasn’t for my—friend—the entire Legend Mirror would have been exposed. Do you know what would happen if they knew?”
“Death. And—oh—more death. So what if I used Majick? It’s alright now, isn’t it?”
I squeeze my fingers so I don’t choke him. I don’t remember ever being this angry. “Covering up your mess required a miracle! Do you know what it took to make those people forget they’d seen you putting on a Goddamn light show?” I drag in a breath. “I told your father I’d bring you to safety, that I’d take you to the Red. If it wasn’t for that, I’d have dumped you in the middle of nowhere.”
“What’s the Red?”
“A group of Legendaries, a safe place. And if you contemplate endangering or exposing them even once I’ll go back on my deal and I’ll kill you myself.”
“You?” he laughs. “A killer?”
“Yes. Me. A killer.” Something about my tone makes him go still. He believes me. Good.
I struggle to reign in my fury. I’m not this person. I don’t threaten strangers.
Fray saves me, as she has a habit of doing. She settles beside me and leans against my shoulder, taking my darkness and replacing it with light. Willa was right, I’ve found my sun.
“Just my luck.” Ran stretches his long legs, heaving a sigh. “I wake up in a strange house with two girls, no memory of the night before, and they turn out to be dating each other.”
I almost jump in and say we’re not dating but I hold back. Let Fray correct him.
She doesn’t. “I’m sure someone is single at the Academy. Maybe you’ll have better luck there.”
“The Academy?” His expression turns dark. “I’m nineteen. I’m not going back to school!”
I say, “It’s just the name of the building,” and he relaxes. So he has a bad relationship with school …. Interesting.
“So when do we go?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
He jumps up, eager. Fray makes a face. “Maybe you should shower first. No offense but you stink, and not even your tiny tiny waist will make anyone overlook it.”
“My what?”
Fray’s eyes are glinting. “Your tiny tiny waist,” she repeats slowly. “You have like, the body of Captain America. You know that, right?”
Ran rolls his eyes and asks me for directions to the shower. I wave him into the bathroom, contemplating my own body. If Fray has noticed Ran’s, she’s surely noticed my less-than-perfect shape.
She kisses my shoulder, easing my insecurities a little.
“So,” she says against my skin. “Are you my girlfriend, or what?”
I want Fray to be mine but is it worth the risk of being hurt? I’m terrified but it’s no choice. Not really. “Yes. If you really want that.”
She faces me, her cheeks a dark pink. “I really want that.”
I curl my fingers into the soft fabric of her jumper and bring my mouth to hers. She guides me to a bean bag and sighs a breath, resting against me.
“I can hear you kissing,” Ran shouts from the bathroom.
Fray yells back, “Then stop listening.”
*
Ran reacts to the Red strangely well. Usually Legendaries who’ve been living alone freak out at the large number of us. Ran exudes relief. It makes me question what I’d assumed about him—that he was an irresponsible party boy. I think maybe the whole show in the pub, the blatant attempt to draw attention to himself, was because he felt alone. Maybe he was alone. I don’t know who he lived with in Coll.
Mavers is ecstatic, showing Ran every room in the Academy, explaining our purpose, and reeling off rules and expectations with fervour. Ran isn’t fazed by anything. He’s laughing and making jokes. I feel sorry for him. How bad has his life been up to now?
Minnie comes out of her bedroom and stops abruptly, turning a glare on Ran. “Oh great. It’s you.”
“You know me?”
“I saw you in a vision last week.” At the questioning looks directed at her, she adds, “You don’t want to know, friends, and I don’t want to tell. There’s only so much my eyes can see without my mind shutting off the trauma.”
“Ah.” Ran smirks. “You saw last Wednesday, didn’t you? The strip—”
“Yes. That.” Minnie pushes past him. To me she whispers, “Why did you bring him here? He’s trashy, Yas. He’ll corrupt us all.”
“Hey,” Ran protests. “I only corrupt when the lady asks me to.”
“Well don’t expect a request from me, sweetheart.” She stalks away, grumbling. I’ve seen enough rom-coms to know where this is going. I laugh to myself.
Mavers, trying hard to smother amusement, asks, “Would you prefer a room at the back or the front of the house?”
“Which is best?”
“Back,” four people say at once. The front is where Fearne and Rowan live, and they’re notorious for being loud.
An arm comes to rest on my shoulder. I growl at the touch but shut up when I see my brother. “Who the hell is that?” he asks.
“The Phoenix’s son.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of him.” He raises his voice. “It’s Amaranth, isn’t it?”
Ran crosses his arms over his chest. Instead of making him look tough like I expect he wants it to, it makes him look small. “It’s Ran.”
“Well, Amaranth, it’s nice to meet you.”
Mavers rubs his eyebrow. “Guy.”
“Ignore him.” Amity guides Ran down the corridor. “Guy’s favourite hobby is irritating people. It would be a dark day in the Otherland if he didn’t antagonise a newcomer.”
I stay where I am and let the small crowd follow Ran to his new room, sweeping Fray along with them. She looks enchanted by her surroundings, the same way she did at Matronalia.
I laugh under my breath.
“Amaranth Magnusson,” Guy murmurs. “I know a guy who used to go to school with him.”
“What’s he like?”
“Bit of a dick, though I think he’s compensating.”
“Compensating for what?”
“Not mine to tell, Yasmin. I might be an ass but I’m not an asshole.”
“That makes no sense.”
He shoves my shoulder on his way to the kitchen, barely jostling me. “Makes sense to me.”
I trail after him. “You know how you told me to talk to you?” At his interested look, I go on. “Fray’s my girlfriend now. And I’m … I don’t know what to do.” I whisper, “I’m scared of killing her when I’m Changed.”
He searches for the right words, concentration drawing his dark eyebrows down. “If you let that stop you from being with her, properly with her, you’ll regret it. A lot. Fray cares about you.”
“How would you know?”
“Matronalia. She looked at you like you were … I don’t know. I suck at metaphors. She looked at you like you mattered—that’s what I’m trying to say. Like you were important. And when Rowan started ranting all that bull about you—I genuinely thought Fray was going to rip him apart.”
“She should have.”
“Missing the point. She obviously thinks the sun shines out of your ass. She knows what you are, she knows about the Legend Mirror. If she can handle that, she can handle you being yourself.”
I stare at the floor. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You’re Yasmin Wikke, remember? You were so determined not to live here that you moved away from the Red and found a life of your own. I’m sure you could do anything if you decided to.”
“That’s how you see me?”
“Yes. You’re a brave idiot, now stop worrying about things you don’t need to. Just carry on with what you’re doing now.”
I make a face. “Nervously fumbling through life?”
“Yeah. Fray obviously goes for that kind of thing.”
When he smirks I kick him. I hadn’t realised he was joking.
“Seriously, though,” he says. “Fray must like you or she wouldn’t be with you. Stop trying to change yourself.”
Minnie storms into the kitchen at that moment, swearing ferociously. “Do you know where Mavers has put him?” At my blank look she exclaims, “Ran! He’s in the room next to me!”
Guy snorts. “That’ll save time when you start screwing around.”
She makes a fist and attacks his chest. I’m not sure who looks more hurt. Probably Minnie. Guy’s chest is nothing but fist-crushing muscle.
Minnie changes tactics, instead aiming insults at Guy which he returns gladly, though harmlessly.
Fray wanders over to me, smiling at their bickering. “Can we go home?”
“Tired?”
In answer she drops her head onto my shoulder, her eyelashes fluttering against my neck.
“Alright. Let’s go home.”
“Don’t wait forever to come back,” Guy says. “We’re not going anywhere if you need us.”
“Or if you want a very accurate reading,” Minnie chirps. “You too, Fray. You’re one of us now.”
THIRTY FIVE
THE BOYS IN STASIS
A week passes. Fray moves into my flat for safety. I have to leave her during the days to go to work but she alternates between staying home with all the doors and windows locked, and going to the Academy. I know she feels like a burden but until we find Miranda and Niall, all I can do is reassure her with gentle touches and the solid weight of my body against hers.
I start to feel better about our fledgling relationship, the insecurities ebbing away when day after day Fray looks at me with the same sparkling eyes. I let myself get lost in the feel of her, in the comfort of her beside me when I wake up. She knows what I am, who I am. She won’t leave me unless I mess up exponentially. But still the fear of hurting her is there—will always be there.
Guy gives me daily updates on Ran. He and Rowan have started hanging out so it looks like he’ll join the duo of Fearne and Rowan. Minnie has slapped him, though she won’t say why. Mavers has already begun teaching him. And the Hannam sisters scare the crap out of him like they do everyone else. The Phoenix’s son is settling into the Academy like he’s always been a part of it.
On the fifteenth of March I bring a bunch of daffodils home. I think they were meant for Mother’s Day but I don’t care. Fray lights up at the sight of them.
She pulls me in for a kiss, swallowing my laugh when I have to bend down for her to reach. I gather her against me and all the taut strings of my control sever. Her back hits the door and she grabs my hair to urge me closer. Fray’s lips demand everything from me, her arms locking around my neck so I can’t escape. As if I would want to.
I hesitate at the hem of her blouse. “Fray,” I gasp. “Can I—?”
“Yes.”
My palms slide under gauzy material and her skin scorches me. My heart is thumping when she hooks her fingers in the collar of my shirt, drawing me back to capture my lips and my heart in a kiss.
I’m trapped and set free, intoxicated and petrified. It’s too much and not enough and I’m shaking with it.
I press my body against her, heat in all the places we align, and let her kisses encase my fear.
Fray overwhelms all five of my senses.
She startles, a jolt of electricity shifting from her body to mine, and it’s only when I focus on the world that exists outside of Fray’s vanilla taste, her spicy-sweet scent, and the sound of her thrumming heart, that I hear someone knocking on the door.
Fray sighs in frustration as she neatens her shirt, threading two buttons back through their holes. She leans up to kiss me once, chastely, and then swings the door open.
Willa stands on the threshold. She doesn’t comment on my rumpled appearance or Fray’s flushed cheeks. “I found Niall.”
*
Willa stops the car outside a deserted cluster of grey buildings. Around the edges of the fenced-off area are ordinary terrace houses in varying shades of grey, cream, red, and beige. It’s like someone supplanted a horror movie location into suburbia.
“How are we gonna get in?” I ask, eyeing the chain link fence and the crumbling warehouse beyond. It’s hunched between three other buildings, one with a tower climbing to three times its height. The sprawling warehouse where Willa saw Niall has patches of roof missing, and most of its windows are either glassless and gaping or boarded up. I’m not looking forward to going into it.
I glance at Fray and a shard of ice digs into my stomach. Fray’s eyes are golden, her pupil tiny and blank as it was in Coll.
“I can burn it,” she says.
I’m impossibly scared of her. Within seconds half of the fence has disintegrated. Willa drives without a comment.
Fray’s Majick isn’t Legendary. It’s not even sure it’s Numina. How can she suddenly have control over it? Wh
y does it appear sporadically, only when the situation is dire? And how much power over Fray does it have, to need to change her appearance?
Majick takes something from all of us when we use it.
The Numina become physically weak.
Legendaries are limited in the use of Majick—defined by specific parameters and unable to use any Majick that isn’t ours. We don’t become physically weak with each bout of Majick like the Numina, at least not in an obvious way. It’s why there are so many young Legendaries here and so few old. Over time our exposure to Majick affects the brain. We were raised on Earth, and we live by Earth’s rules—the human brain isn’t meant to control and contain Majick.
Cross-Bloods suffer tumours, strokes, anything caused by a meltdown in the brain. Legend-Bloods are affected differently. We have a long history of going insane, our minds physically able to contain the Majick but mentally incapable of processing it. Either way, by sixty we’ve lost ourselves.
Majick isn’t free—it comes with a price. What price is Fray paying?
I squeeze her fingers. I won’t let anything happen to her. I’ll protect Fray against anything, even if it’s herself.
“Let’s go,” Willa says, bringing me back to the present. Niall. Miranda. The warehouse.
I keep my hand in Fray’s as we come into a wide, bare room. Ribbons of light slice through the wrecked roof and make abstract patterns on the floor. Niall is on his side on the concrete floor.
Fray runs to him. “He’s unconscious.” She looks back at me, tears in her eyes.
There’s something different about me with Fray’s gaze locked on me. I’m stable. “Stay with them,” I tell Willa, and make my way into the back rooms of the warehouse, my nails becoming dangerous hooks. For once, giving into the beastly side of me feels liberating. I’m not overwhelmed, not terrified of killing someone, not a passive, paralysed part of me watching the beast move, stalk, attack. I’m me. Yasmin.
I wish it was always like this. If I could control myself while I was Changed, I’d never have to hurt anyone. I’d never dread the Crea moon. Hope is a poison coursing through me.
The building is empty save for Niall and us, which is strange enough to make my hairs rise. Why would Miranda abduct Niall and leave him here unguarded? It makes no sense.
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