by Lucy Auburn
I hold out my hand and try to reach for my Grim powers—nothing. I let my thoughts fall away and search for the state of mind I go into when I need to sense others’ actions... bupkis. Zilch. Nada. Nyet.
Meyer frowns. “Keep trying. There has to be something in there.” For some strange reason he’s staring at the black opal—I guess he wants to make sure it’s still working. “This can’t be it.”
Because I’m determined, I do my best, though I feel more like a constipated dog chasing its own tail than a glorious phoenix with wings and fire trying to ascend from the ashes. Though I try not to let it, a little thread of anxiety worms its way through my chest and feeds on my fears. For just a moment I indulge in it, wishing for the demons, missing their easy banter and the way things work so well with them by my side.
Though I don’t summon them—though I manage to resist—something about reaching out and just tapping at the edges of that soul bond is enough to make me feel my powers surge to the forefront. They take over and hold onto me; black fire wraps around my arm, stretches towards my wrist and plays with my fingers, lighting up my skin. Bits of orange thread through it, the phoenix and the Grim in me dancing side by side but never fully meeting.
“It’s something.” Meyer grunts, sounding displeased. “Let’s hope there’s more of that in you, though, if you’re going to make it to Wednesday. From now on, no more summoning—and be careful in your classes. I don’t want you using up your powers completely.”
Yohan will be thrilled to know that Meyer just made his week worse.
“One more thing.” Walking over to a chair by the wall, Meyer pulls something out of the bag he’s thrown there. “I didn’t want to do this, but clearly you’ve given me no choice.”
I frown at him as he gets closer, revealing that the thing he grabbed is a black-and-silver metal bracelet. “What, you’re making me join a 90s lady punk band? Will I walk like an Egyptian from now on?”
“No. This is much more powerful than a piece of jewelry from Claire’s, Dani.”
He grabs my wrist and closes the bracelet around it, shocking me with the sudden violence of the action. Like the chains from the other night, it seamlessly closes together, with no sign of a beginning or an end.
I stare up at him, feeling betrayed without knowing why. “What does it do?”
“Saves you from yourself.” The words are so simple, but they leave a knot of tension in my chest. “Until I take it off Wednesday evening, you won’t be able to summon your demons at all.”
Horror wraps its way around me, a horror I don’t even know how to put words to. “That’s not... I wasn’t going to...”
He gives me a pitying look. “You were. I haven’t met this quartet, but I’m sure like all upper demons they have the charm of Lucifer—and his good looks, too. Don’t worry, Dani.” The finger he presses against my chin is impossible to resist; he forces my gaze up until I’m staring into his eyes, wondering suddenly if it’s friendly pity or frustrated anger creating a line in his forehead. “You’re not the first to fall, and you won’t be the last. But it’s my job to keep you safe—and this bracelet will do that.”
I nod, no words coming to my mouth, trying to calm the frightened kick of my heart. A bitter laugh nearly escapes my mouth when I realize that it doesn’t actually matter; my heart can beat a thousand times a minute, and the demons won’t show up.
Still, the bond tries. It surges up within me. The energy of it, the feeling of their four souls reaching out across the divide, fills me with warmth.
And then a sudden cold washes over me, staring at my wrist and moving up my arm, crossing my chest, squeezing my heart and sinking into my toes. The bond tucks tail and runs away; like a kicked dog, it whimpers and hides.
A childish thought occurs to me; I don’t want to ask it, but Meyer is staring at me, and I can’t seem to keep it at bay. “Will the bracelet... hurt them?”
His mouth thins. “Oh, Dani,” he says, “the answer to that shouldn’t matter to you at all.” Reaching out, he pushes a lock of my newly black hair behind my ear, and I have to fight the urge to move away from the unwelcome touch. “Their bond with you threatens your life. If you weren’t so close to all this, you would see that and understand why it has to be broken. One day you’ll look back at this and realize it’s been nothing but a bad dream. Until then, I have to protect you. Even from yourself.”
Something about his words echoes everything Ezra has been saying all this time. Every warning, every instinct of his that I ignored. He told me again and again to stay away from them because it would kill me. And now look where I am—I barely have a flicker of fire to hold onto.
So although it sickens me deeply to turn away from my guys, I give Meyer a tight nod—even as I step back, away from his closeness, his touch.
But I can’t regret what we did last night. And I still want to see them. At least one more time.
“I’ll get to say goodbye, right?”
A shadow crosses his face. “Wednesday night. And I promise you, Dani, when we perform this spell—when we sever your bond with them completely—you’ll see what they really are. And you won’t want them anymore.”
I doubt his words, so I don’t respond to them.
“Alright.” He sighs and gives me a soft smile, which I ignore. “Since your powers are proving difficult, let’s work on your combat skills. Show me what that McKinley woman has been teaching you.”
Chapter 24
Wednesday Evening
Nothing matters more than this. Tonight, after days away, after nights spent barely sleeping, the cold black opal against my chest and the tight bracelet yanking me away from their souls time and time again, I’ll finally get to see them again.
I’ve been looking forward to it as much as I dread it.
Because this time we really will be saying goodbye.
Classes have been a blur. Even meal times barely stood out from the grey, drab ache that’s fallen over everything since Meyer put that bracelet on my wrist. Olivia pulled me aside more than once to ask me if I was okay; I begged off, pretended like Grim classes were taking a toll on me. Even Petra has been less ice cold lately and more friendly. Last night she knocked on my door with tea and a movie to stream on her laptop; I fell asleep watching it with her on my bed, the taste of Earl Grey on my tongue.
Of course, after she slipped out and I tried to get real sleep, it became impossible. The cold rose up to greet me; the lonely feeling, like something was missing, made my heart race as I tossed and turned all night. I stumbled through classes, disappointing all my teachers one last time, and spent hours in my bedroom whiling away the minutes and seconds.
1:57 AM. That’s when Meyer claims the stars and moon and whatever other occult shit will line up to let me sever the bond. But he’ll have to take the bracelet off before then, and I’m hoping I can convince him to do that part early.
If he doesn’t, there’s part of me that’s tempted to grab a knife and saw my own hand off. That’s how much I’ve come to loathe the thing. It supposed to be keeping me safe, but really it just feels like another kind of manacle. Threat to my life or not, I’ve come to take the demons for granted, and the past few days have been bleak without them.
Which just means the rest of my life will be bleak without them, too.
No. I can’t let myself believe that. Every Grim can summon demons at will, and I’m a Black Phoenix. I’ll be able to see them again, even if it won’t be the same—even though our souls won’t be bonded like they are now. There has to be a spell in one of the books Meyer checked out that will help me find a way back to them. I just have to earn his trust for a while longer, prove to him that I’m not some self-destructive demon-fucking idiot, and surely he’ll let me get good enough at summoning that I’ll be able to find them again.
Maybe it’s denial or delusion, but I have to be sure. I can’t imagine my life without them in it ever again. I’ve put a lot of people behind me; like every foster kid, I know
how to say goodbye and never look back. This time, though, I don’t think I can do it so easy. I’m all out of easy goodbyes.
Thankfully Meyer is in his office and answers quickly when I knock on the door. He has an exuberant expression on his face—counter to the drab exhaustion I saw when I glanced in the mirror this morning.
“Dani!” He greets me with a smile, which just looks absurd on him. “Can you believe it’s almost time?”
“You seem excited,” I comment, as he ushers me into his office and gestures towards the wing-back chair opposite his desk. “Is there something I’m missing? It’s like you’re planning a trip to Disney World.”
Not that I would know; I’ve never been.
“There’s just something invigorating about performing a new spell. Discovering something so... cutting edge.” His eyes light up, and he glances towards my neck, motioning at me with one hand as he picks up various papers and pens on his desk. “Show me the opal.”
Confused, I pull it out of my shirt. “It hasn’t really done much the past few days. I guess because of the bracelet.”
“That’s good,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on the black surface of it, a curious expression on his face. “And how have you been sleeping?”
I open my mouth on a lie, but something tells me Meyer would see straight through it. “It’s been... rough. I keep having these weird dreams.”
“Go on. It may be helpful.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Soul bonds work in mysterious ways.”
That sounds like some kind of cop out, but I suppose there’s no harm in telling him about my weird dreams. “There’s this figure standing over me. Silhouetted. And... Well, I don’t know. I just feel weird about it, but then I fall asleep again. But it must be a dream. It’s not like anyone is standing over my bed.”
In a soothing voice, Meyer tells me, “Sounds like it’s just simple anxiety.”
I’m not sure about that, but it’s the only explanation. “Well, hopefully it’ll go away after tonight.”
“It probably will! And we’ll be able to start your schooling in earnest.”
“Great.” I try to segue-way into the next part smoothly by pulling back the sleeve of my blazer and placing my bracelet-clad wrist on his desk. “So this’ll need to come off now. For tonight.”
He looks at the bracelet. At my face. Raises his brows. And then, slowly, politely, shakes his head. “Not yet. We can save that for later.”
Frustration flares inside me; followed close on its heels is anger. I don’t want the bracelet, I never did, but I let him put me on it because the thought of Ezra and the guys blaming themselves for my death was too much to bear. And it seemed, on Friday, like that death was inevitable.
But now I’m not so sure. It’s just a few hours until we can perform the spell, after all. And the worst thing that happened last week is that I struggled with my powers—something that I’ve had difficulty figuring out since the beginning.
It seems to me like Meyer put the bracelet on me not to protect me, but to keep me from having sex with demons again. Which is a real slut-shaming patriarchal thing to do, or in the very least, a highly shitty form of clit-blocking.
Can’t a girl get her freak on without being judged by some rando teacher who probably hasn’t gotten any in months if not years? It’s not my fault he could smell the demon on me. That was probably all Lynx and his overzealous orgasm trying to outdo the other guys with a huge load.
“I want it taken off.” I try to sound firm, steady, and not like a petulant little girl begging for the keys to Daddy’s Porsche. “It’s uncomfortable, and unnecessary. Also it super clashes with my outfit. Silver and gold is a faux pas.”
Meyer’s lips curve in amusement. “I didn’t know you care about fashion.”
“I care about not having shit put on me without my consent.” Maybe that came out a little harsh, but it does seem to knock him back a little; he’s blinking at me like this didn’t even occur to him. “Also I don’t know what it’s made of but it’s probably not nickel-free. I’ve got a major rash starting under there.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
It’s true—mostly. The rash is because I keep moving the thing up and down my wrist as much as it goes, scratching at the skin and trying to slide it off. But it’s there, raw and irritated despite my phoenix-regeneration powers. Apparently they don’t kick in for things as trivial as skin irritation (or chin pimples, based on the real honker I can feel pulsing just beneath my skin after so much stress and such shitty sleep.) Damn powers, keeping me alive just enough, but not solving all my problems.
Just thinking about it makes me reflexively scratch at the edge of the bracelet. This gets Meyer’s attention, and I can see the gears in his head moving at a mile a minute as he stares at the red expanse of my skin.
“Okay.” My heart soars, and I fight down a triumphant shit-eating grin; best to wait and celebrate after he’s taken the bracelet off. “But no funny business, hear me? You’ve had enough of that.”
I can almost hear Mateo scornfully asking which 1960’s TV dad Meyer is channeling right now with the words “funny business.” But I hold back amusement at the thought of his quips and hold out my wrist so I can get the real deal. “I promise. I just want it off. And we’re so close, right? So it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
Meyer grunts. “Sure, whatever. Just tell me if you feel your powers flicker off. We wouldn’t want to drain them completely.”
The way he says it is odd. “We don’t want to drain them at all, though.”
“Right,” he corrects himself. “Although that started before I showed up. Here, let me...”
Reaching into his desk, he pulls out one of those black powder bags that I still haven’t gotten the hang of. At our Monday class he tried to teach me how to use my time-bending powers and advanced speed, combined with the death energy, to move fast enough to turn into a blur for a second or two. When he did it, he practically slowed down time itself, but when I did it all I got was a handful of powder to the face and a death-tinted sneeze.
He murmurs a simple word, “Release,” and sprinkles the cursed black powder on the bracelet. That’s all it takes for a gap to appear and uncurl it from around my wrist, revealing the raw pink skin beneath—and a few scabs forming where I’ve scratched too hard.
Pulling my wrist back, I rub at the skin—and feel an overwhelming sensation of relief as a tight, hot fist of pain released inside my chest. “Thank you. That’s better.”
He’s eyeing me. “I never intended for it to cause a rash. But it does alarm me that your powers haven’t healed it. Have you had other injuries lately?”
Suddenly I’m reminded of Lynx’s comment about scurvy; the last thing I want is for my lack of powers to result in every wound on my body opening up and killing me.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Guess I’m just tired.”
Meyer nods sharply. “After tonight you won’t be. Once we get rid of this pesky drain on your powers, you’ll feel much better.”
Or I’ll feel like four hearts are being torn from my chest at once.
Either way, it’ll all be over soon.
The night is tinged with chill air and a gentle breeze that makes the trees whisper secrets above our heads. Thin clouds overhead block out not just the stars but the moon as well. Without light even my sharp phoenix eyes struggle to make out places where roots buckle up from the ground and tree branches dip down low, making the path treacherous. It feels like the sort of darkness that opens the earth up wide and swallows things whole—maybe, including, me.
“Here.” Meyer hands me a flashlight and ticks his own on. “My Grim eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
I eye him sideways. “How old are you? If I can ask. I can’t tell.”
“Oh, you know.” His voice is vague. “Old enough to teach, young enough not to retire. Ah—there.” He points his flashlight to a break between two trees. “There’s a clea
ring up ahead. That’s a good place for it.”
I follow him as he cuts a path through the darkness with his flashlight, my heart beating fast. I haven’t seen them yet, haven’t felt their presence even though anxiety and worry has surged within me half a dozen times since Meyer took off the bracelet. The part of my chest that holds the soul bond, where it lives and breathes alongside my heart, feels sluggish and faraway. It’s as if it’s being held underwater, down below where I cannot reach.
But something about the night, the coming spell, and the whisper of the trees yanks it to the surface. I drop behind Meyer a step or two, pretending for a moment like my shoe is untied—“Go ahead, I’ll catch up”—and breathe deep of the night air, which is scented with leaf litter and the smell of a coming storm. A tingle goes up my arm as something steps into the darkness to my right, my left, behind me, in front of me, none of them stirring the air with the presence or disturbing the ground beneath their feet.
They’re here.
With me.
One last time.
“Is it real this time?” Lynx’s voice is quiet, subdued. “It feels different.”
I abandon my shoelaces and stand up, turning towards him, sighing as I take in his familiar form. “You’re here. It’s been so long. I thought—I thought for a second there I’d never see you again.” There’s a wild look in his eyes, which roam around the darkness with something like fear in them. I frown, glancing around at them as they gather together in front of me. “What’s wrong? Something is wrong.”
Ezra pushes a hand through his hair, the other hand resting on the handle of his sword, ready to draw it from its sheath and feint at shadows. There’s a darkness in the hollows beneath his eyes. “We’ve been in the nowhere place too long. It’s not easy to be there, where there’s nothing.”
“Oh.” Guilt stabs at me. “He said it wouldn’t hurt you.”