by Jo Holloway
Then it hit her.
These feelings were hatred . . . directed at her . . . turning her own thoughts against her.
Oh no.
Motion registered in her peripheral vision. Too late.
A body slammed into her side.
The breath rushed from her chest when she hit the ground. Lydia’s face came into view against the dark sky. Cara struggled to free herself, but Lydia pinned her down. Her lungs screamed as she fought to refill them.
“No bodyguards?” Lydia’s mouth stretched into a leering grin while her eyes glared with a harsh green glow. “That was accommodating of you.”
She shifted off Cara’s legs. Cara started to kick and buck, driven by fiery hatred as much as panic. A buzz flowed through her body, urging her to fight harder. But Lydia was too fast. Her body was too strong with the Pyx in control of her nerves and muscles.
The woman slid behind Cara’s shoulders and dragged her upright. With terrifying ease, she hauled Cara between two buildings, heading for the forest.
“Let’s go, Pyxsee,” she spat.
“You don’t have to use her voice,” Cara hissed between shallow breaths. “You know I can hear you with your own voice.”
“You don’t deserve that.”
Cara thrust with her heels as hard as she could and succeeded in driving Lydia back against the brick wall of the science building. She flinched at the thud. Acid rose in her throat at having to hurt the poor woman who had surrendered control of her body to this usurper. But it made no difference to the vice grip pinning her arms to her sides. Pain radiated from her ribs.
Jagged planks of wood surrounded Lydia’s forearm, wrapped into a crude splint with duct tape. Their brutal edges squeezed against her. The horrifying sight of Lydia’s untreated broken arm brought a new surge of strength.
A roar burst through her lips. “Get out of her, you sick, twisted monster! What did Lydia ever do to you? What did I do to you?”
She jerked and twisted, throwing herself against the arms holding her tight. That broken arm had to hurt, but it appeared the Pyx had total control over the woman’s body, including her pain response, and the grip didn’t loosen. Breathing became harder, and she was forced to still. Panic surged.
Lydia started to drag her again. Soon, they’d be on the other side of the building, and no one who might be passing by would be able to see them. Her eyes darted down to the wood-covered arm.
Sorry, Lydia.
She let herself fall.
Her knees buckled, and all her weight sagged onto Lydia’s broken arm. With a screech, Lydia dropped her. Apparently, some pain could make it through the Pyx’s influence over her. Cara swallowed her guilt and scrambled backward across the ground. Lydia drew herself upright. Fresh anger surged through Cara’s mind as Lydia advanced once more. The Pyx was done playing games.
“Cara!”
The sweet sound of his voice blanketed her panic with a glimmer of hope.
Rhys’s shout distracted the Pyx long enough for Cara to pull her feet under her. She ducked to the side when Lydia’s arm swung through the air. The wooden planks whistled above her head.
A hand grasped her arm, and Rhys pulled her out of range of Lydia’s next swing. Together, they stepped back toward the forest, facing Lydia as she turned and charged at them. Rhys threw his arm across Cara. He only made it a half-step forward before she shoved him out of the way. Hard.
He stumbled from her side, and she braced herself. She couldn’t allow him to protect her the way he had at the clearing, or risk anyone getting hurt in her place again. Not like Wes had, or worse. Not Rhys.
Tucking her head, she drove her shoulder into Lydia’s ribs as they collided. Even with the breath knocked out of her, Lydia stayed upright and grabbed her again. Cara’s feet came off the ground as Lydia’s good arm squeezed around her ribcage with superhuman strength.
She couldn’t breathe.
Oblivious to Cara’s heels kicking against her shins, Lydia carried her forward.
Cara’s lungs burned for air.
“Stop,” Lydia’s voice called out. “Unless you want to see her die, I suggest you step aside.”
Cara stopped struggling. A dark haze closed in on the sides of her vision. Rhys stood right in front of them.
He froze in place with his chest heaving. His eyes locked on hers, and gold lightning ignited the grey storm. Their intensity shocked her. Those burning eyes were all she could see. Just as she’d thought the first time she’d seen them, losing herself in them was like a warm blanket wrapping around her in a thunderstorm. Raw emotion surged against the hatred she’d been sensing, and its comfort almost made the vise grip around her ribs feel like it loosened for a moment.
If that was the last thing she saw before she died, that wouldn’t be so bad.
But his eyes flicked to the side. He lunged forward and crashed into her. Now she was sandwiched between them with no chance of taking another breath ever again. Not a great plan as far as saviors went. What was he doing? Killing her faster? Lungs screaming, the tunnel in her vision closed in. If only she could see his eyes again before she went.
Lydia crumpled behind her.
Now only Rhys held her up, and she sagged in his arms while a breath tore into her throat. Sweet, precious oxygen filled her in huge gasps until her vision cleared.
She turned to see what had happened. Wes stood behind Lydia’s collapsed form with a rock raised in his left hand.
“I hope I didn’t hit her too hard,” he said.
“Cara.” Rhys steadied her. “Are you . . .?”
Greedy, gulping breaths prevented her from speaking, but she raised a hand to indicate she was all right. Sore ribs were a small price to pay compared to what could have happened.
Wes dropped the rock. “Is she—Is the Pyx still here?”
Lydia’s collapse had not only released the death grip around her ribs, it had also loosened the tightness inside. With her lungs refilled, Cara stood and took the first full breath she could remember in months.
“She’s . . . gone? At least, that’s what it feels like. But she can’t be gone.”
“No. Her eyes stayed green right up until they rolled back in her head,” Rhys said.
“That’s weird. Jenyx doesn’t go away when Jenner falls asleep.”
“No, Tomyx either,” Wes confirmed. “We have whole conversations after Jory and the cat fall asleep.”
“She has to still be there. Maybe Pyx can be knocked out too,” Rhys said.
Cara unzipped her coat and shrugged out of it. “Then this is our chance. We have to give Lydia her life back. And I need to find out what this Pyx wants with me.” She draped her coat over Lydia’s face and lifted her head gently off the ground to wrap it all the way around.
When she stood, she found both guys staring at her.
“It’s goose down. Organic but not living. Remember?” Cara reminded them of the conditions for keeping a Pyx in its current pyxis. This solution wasn’t as good as the proper organic-laced clay pyxis they’d used when they’d saved Liv, but they also didn’t have anything big enough for a human, so this was the best she could think of. “If she’s really still in there, she’ll wake up when Lydia does. We have to get her somewhere we can control before then. It’ll be stuffy, but Lydia won’t suffocate, and the extra layer should make it harder for the Pyx to escape.”
“Good thinking. The other part of the equation . . . the remnants. Is there anything we can use?” Rhys asked.
The conversation last fall with Jenyx and Tomyx outside the hospital came back to her. Since only one Pyx could inhabit a pyxis at a time, the presence of one Pyx prevented use of the same pyxis by another. The protection infused all parts of the host, extending even to pieces that were no longer connected. Those pieces of an active pyxis—known as remnants—could act as a ward of sorts, preventing a Pyx from passing through a barrier laced with them. The protection only stopped if the Pyx moved on and left that pyxis available as a ho
st once more.
“Jenner’s hair is bound to be on my coat. It gets everywhere. So there should be a bit of extra protection from that.”
“I’m sure there’s some Thomas hair on here.” Wes peeled off his wool coat and added a layer around Cara’s. He sat Lydia up and tied the sleeves behind her back to pin her arms.
“Gentle,” Cara warned when Wes set Lydia down again.
Rhys gave her an incredulous look. “How can you be so forgiving? She just tried to kill you.”
“No, she didn’t. The Pyx did. It’s not Lydia’s fault. And now that she’s unconscious and the bitterness disappeared, I feel . . . sort of fantastic, actually.” She looked up into his eyes and nearly lost herself for a moment. She overcame the sudden urge to throw herself back into his arms and kiss him until she couldn’t breathe again. Where was her head? She must still be delusional from the lack of oxygen. “Thank you. You saved me.”
“Actually, Wes did the saving. I’m sorry I had to crush you to hold her in place.”
“Don’t be. I would have been gone already if it weren’t for you. How did you find me?”
Rhys looked away. “I was outside. Getting some air after . . . doesn’t matter. I heard you shout.”
“And you?” She turned to Wes.
“Your coat was gone. I figured I should check in case you did something epically stupid like leave on your own.”
She blinked. With the new lightness and the flood of relief at being alive, she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad. Besides, all three of them had gone out on their own, so they were all guilty of the same thing.
“What now?” she asked.
“My van,” Rhys suggested. “We keep the coats on her and hope it’s enough to get her over to the manor.”
He removed his jacket too. Instead of adding to the layers around Lydia, he draped it over Cara’s shoulders.
She hadn’t realized she was shivering in her flimsy dress until his warmth enveloped her. “Oh. Thanks.” The mix of cedar wood and oranges made her practically giddy as she inhaled his scent. Her ribs ached with the movement as she drew in a deep breath, but her insides fizzed with pleasure.
Pull it together, Cara.
“So, how are we going to carry her? I’m not sure how much I can hold right now, and Wes can only use one arm.”
“I could run to get Jory,” Wes offered.
Rhys shook his head. “No. I don’t want Liv to come. I don’t even want my sister to know about this right now. I can take her shoulders. Wes, can you take her legs?”
“If someone helps me get ahold of them with my good arm.”
“We have to make sure the jackets don’t move from her head, too. Just in case,” Cara added.
“You do that, and Wes and I will carry her.”
How was she supposed to take Lydia’s head if Rhys was taking her shoulders? This wasn’t going to work.
“We need another set of hands unless I’m supposed to fit between you and Lydia while you’re carrying her.” Picturing herself walking between his arms, pressed up against him, was not helping her think straight. At least it was too dark for him to see her blush.
Approaching footsteps made them all whirl around and close together to shield Lydia from view.
“If it’s spare hands you need, I’ve a set.” Harrison sauntered toward them. He stopped and peeked around Wes. “Bloody hell, what’ve you got there?”
“Nothing,” Cara answered. “We’re fine. Thanks, though.”
Harrison ignored her and pressed forward between her and Wes.
She raised her palms at Wes when he stepped aside to let Harrison by. “What are you doing?” she hissed at her friend.
Wes shrugged. “He already saw.”
Harrison stared for a moment at the covered body on the ground. “Student? Teacher?” He checked each of their faces. “No answers? I don’t generally help move bodies without some sort of explanation.”
Cara’s jaw dropped. “That’s not—She’s not dead.”
A twinkle in his eye gave away his amusement. So he’d seen Lydia’s chest rising and falling. He was messing with her.
“Maybe not, but your evening’s certainly gone pear-shaped, hasn’t it? Who is she?”
“My aunt,” Rhys lied. “She’s staying at our place. Must have wandered up here and passed out.”
“Your place?”
Cara nodded. “Rhys and Liv’s family own this land. Whalton manor is just down the road.”
“Ooh. Sounds posh. How do we get there?” Harrison replied, looking suitably impressed.
“No.” Wes stepped in. “We’d appreciate your help carrying her to the parking lot, but you’re not coming. And you can’t tell anyone.”
His tone was flat. Not threatening, but completely serious. Harrison stared at him, meeting his even gaze in kind, and contemplating. Finally, he broke away from Wes and shot Cara a grin.
“Right. The aunt with a secret drinking problem. Classic sad tale.” With a curious look at the coats wrapped around her, he moved to Lydia’s shoulder to take one side. “Shall we?”
CHAPTER 11
CARA AND WES FLATTENED themselves on the floor of the van. Cara landed on top of Lydia with a jarring pain in her ribs. The door slammed closed behind them, extinguishing the overhead light and plunging them into darkness.
“Evening, Professor. Or, Mr. Meyers, that is. Still adjusting. Sorry, sir.” Harrison circled the van, distracting the teacher, who had appeared with the worst possible timing.
Cara risked peeking up to see how close he was. Their math teacher had come within a few steps of the van and leaned toward the back windows. For a second, she swore he looked right at her. Then Harrison stepped between them, and she reminded herself of the tinting on the windows.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Winter?” Mr. Meyers asked.
Inside the van, Wes reached across and slowly pressed her head down with a whispered, “Keep your pale face down.” Her heart thumped its relief, and she fought a nervous giggle by burying her face in the coats around Lydia’s head. Nothing could be less funny, but the adrenaline had made her lightheaded.
Outside, Harrison covered smoothly for them. “Enjoying some night air, sir. I left the dance and bumped into Rhys, so I thought I would stroll up here with him. I love these cold evenings, don’t you? Oh, since I’ve got you, I had a question about that formula you showed us.”
Their voices faded as Harrison steered the teacher away from the parking lot. Rhys hopped into the front seat and started the engine without a word.
Cara finally took a deep breath and shifted off Lydia’s body. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. The woman reeked. How long had she been wandering the woods and stalking the school in the same clothes? What had she had to eat or drink, and where had she been able to sleep? Or had she? Her sallow skin and bony limbs said she had only had the bare minimum to survive. Enough to stay useful, no more.
“It’s safe,” Rhys informed them.
Cara’s oddly light mood began to settle as the reality of Lydia’s situation sank in. She and Wes sat up in the back as they left the clearing of the school and the trees closed in on the sides of the road. No one said a word until they climbed out at the mansion.
Her eyes drank in the darkened stone walls casting shadows in the moonlight across the wintery meadow. It was the first time she'd been back since they had come to meet Liv. Officially, that was the only time she'd ever been here. Of course, unofficially, she’d been here plenty of times before that ever happened, but not since. She snuck a sideways glance at Rhys. Heart skipping, she watched his face lighten the way she remembered. Even during the hardest times when Liv had still been in the hospital, he’d always seemed to love it here.
She headed toward the end of the long garage where they’d spent so much time. Wes stayed to watch Lydia, but Rhys followed and stepped in front of her to open the door. When she entered the closed space they had used as a makeshift lab in the fall, she didn’t recognize it
.
She turned to ask Rhys what had been going on in here and found him silhouetted in the moonlit doorway. The windows had been boarded over, and the only light came from the space around him. Her breath caught in her throat at his perfect outline. It almost sounded like his breathing hitched, too, when she turned, but the pale glow of the moon reflecting off her face meant his was in shadow, and she couldn’t tell. The question she’d been about to ask died on her lips as the rest of the world fell away until there was only the two of them.
Slowly, his silhouetted arm reached around the door to flick on the light, and the single naked bulb illuminated the space. She blinked in the harsh glare as the illusion of something between them faded into the night.
“Um, what—?” She swept an arm across the space.
Bags of peat moss had been stacked like building blocks forming walls for a bizarre structure. A plywood roof covered with more peat moss and a doorway of layered blankets completed it.
“We thought we might need it at some point.”
She bent to peer inside, finding more blankets covering an uneven floor. “You built a cell? Out of dirt?”
“Not dirt. Organics—peat moss, wood, cotton—and it’s liberally sprinkled with ash remnants.”
Her eyes rounded. Ash of a deceased pyxis was the strongest ward against other Pyx that existed. If a pyxis had shared its body with a Pyx until the moment of death, then the protection infused in their cells stayed with them. No other Pyx would ever be able to use them as a host again, so their remnants formed a powerful barrier. Jenyx and Tomyx had reluctantly shared this closely guarded secret in order to explain how to safely capture the Pyx they removed from Liv.
“Wes gave me instructions and more of the ashes Tomyx had supplied him with for the clay last fall. We hope this will work like a human-sized outer pyxis. With all the hostile Pyx in the area, and the way they affect you, it seemed like we might eventually need to hold one. I wanted to be ready. We both did.”
“You and Wes did all this?”