by Lucy Auburn
Then again, this is a near-immortal assassin I'm dealing with. Apparently she has tricks up her sleeve.
She smirks at me, enjoying my surprise. "You'll see. Soon enough, your powers will be gone—for good this time. And this one? Well, his body will be used by someone who has more than two brain cells to rub together."
"How dare you!" I rush at the barrier, throwing my palms against it, not caring as my vision fades away without a connection to my two Conduits. I don't need sight to know what I want or where I am. "Let him go, you fucking psychopath. Haven't you taken enough from me?"
"You'll see—or won't see, as the case may be, since you're clearly weak and blind," Cleopatra says, her voice full of confidence as she lords her advantages over me. "Your powers will soon be in better hands. And you won't have a worry in the world. Just like Connor—he used to have constant worries and expectations. Now... well, let's just say he's far happier where he is."
The Black Serpent.
My mind flashes to him, and I find myself wondering if...
Well. Certain instincts come to mind when I think of him. Just like I knew somehow to put his ring on the Cain doors in order to get us out of the pocket dimension we were stuck in, I know right now that I can summon him if I touch the ring and think hard enough.
We may not be connected by blood or—shudder—love and marriage, but the Black Serpent and I have a common enemy as well as a strange connection. He was, seemingly, the closest person to my father when he was alive, other than my mother. And he paid for that closeness by having his powers stolen while my father's body was taken from him.
Grabbing the ring, I feel it blindly. Something sparks at my touch. Behind me my Conduits try to put their heads together and come up with something; as I back up towards them, reaching towards them, I can hear their voices.
"My poison worked the first time around."
"To weaken, not kill. We've got to take them out completely."
"It's that barrier."
"Maybe with my illusions—"
I reach for Penny's eyes, but she's staring in the wrong direction. Then I sense him in the room: Killer. He brushes up against my leg, scared but trying to be brave for me. Slipping into his eyes, I use him as a kind of seeing eye dog, and rejoin my guys in the back portion of the room.
"We have to do something," Levi is arguing. "We can't just leave him like that. There has to be a way to take down the barrier."
"We'll figure it out," I tell him, taking his hand and blinking as my vision comes back all at once. This is going to be something to get used to, but at least now I have my powers back, with all the advantages they give me. I'll never be weak—or alone. "I've got another idea. I've summoned someone who I have the feeling can help."
"Summoned? You mean another ghost?" Grayson frowns at me. "We need that barrier down, not another—"
As he's speaking, the Black Serpent pops into being in the middle of the room, two long curved black swords in his hands. He looks worse for the wear since the last time I saw him; his hair has grown out, there's stubble along his jawline, and if he weren't standing several feet away from me, the stench coming off him alone would be enough to take me out.
But he stares at Brutus, who's wearing Vincent Arizona's face. The other man looks back at him—and draws his own swords, one in each hand.
"This has been a long time coming," the Black Serpent says, in a voice that doesn't sound insane at all. "After everything—the curse, the lies, all of it—I'm going to kill you."
He charges forward, swords slashing in the air—and right through the psychic barrier Cleopatra built, bringing it down like it's a flimsy cotton curtain. I have to bite my lip to keep from cheering, eyes going to Wyatt, who looks like he's fading away.
The Black Serpent swings a sword towards Brutus.
Brutus raises a sword to meet it.
And they both melt into fog, whisked away to finish their battle somewhere outside. I saw as much in my vision of the two of them, though I didn't know what I was looking at. The next time I see into the future, I plan on taking copious notes.
Now it's just me, my Conduits, and motherfucking Cleopatra of all people. She looks at me with Vervaine's face, twisted in an expression of hatred, pain flashing across her expression. There's dried blood coating her chest and hand from her stab wound, courtesy of little ol' me. Seeing her bleed doesn't give me confidence—I have no doubt there's a few more tricks up those sleeves of hers.
"You think you're going to win this? Well, you're wrong." She advances on us, hands out, a smirk on her face despite the stab wound I put in her with my dad's knife. "I've got abilities you wouldn't believe, you stupid little girl. So you'd be better off tucking tail and running instead of—"
Racing across the room in a blur of fur and claws, Penny puts her teeth in Vervaine-slash-Cleopatra's ankle and bites down hard. The witch of a woman howls and kicks, but Penny holds on long enough to take a chunk out of her before she races away, fur fluffed to the max, hissing up a storm. I've never been so proud in my life.
"You were saying?" Stalking towards Cleopatra, I let Killer be my eyes and my guys my backup as I face off against my next-to-biggest enemy yet. "Get the fuck away from Wyatt, or I'll do way more than just stab you once."
"Oh, you're asking for what comes next."
"Bring it." I summon my force field and fall into a fighter's stance, while behind me Levi readies his poison, Grayson his psychic abilities, and Mason his powerful illusions. "It's go time, bitch."
Chapter 12
At first I think we're going to win for sure.
Levi's hands send grey-and-green poison running through Cleopatra's borrowed veins. Her skin takes on a distinctively tinged quality, and she grits her teeth, stumbling as she advances on us.
Not one to be outdone by the most ridiculous member of our group, Grayson takes a turn of his own. Staring down his former teacher with a look of pure hatred in his eyes, he tells her, "You have no powers. You can't fight at all."
She stumbles to the side, and I see my moment. Grabbing Mason's elbow, I jerk him out of the illusion he was building and motion towards Wyatt's body, steering Killer's eyes in that direction. Mason understands immediately; he nods sharply and takes my hand.
"You were such a worthless teacher," Grayson says, cruelty and sadism in his voice. "Now I understand why you were so desperate to keep me down all the time, so eager to convince me that my abilities were dangerous and uncontrolled: you were afraid of me. You knew that if I looked inside your head, I'd see the truth."
Levi cranks up the poison, and Cleopatra groans, her head falling forward, eyes on the ground. There won't be a better chance than this. Mason and I rush towards Wyatt, and as we fall to our knees beside his prone form, fear and hope alike war inside my chest.
He's so impossibly strong.
But Rome, too, fell.
And so can my big guy if we don't act fast.
"C'mon, c'mon..."
I put my free hand on his neck, his chest, his head, feeling his breath come shallowly, his pulse jerk weakly against my hand. His eyes flutter open, and looking into them is like slamming into an eighteen wheeler without a seatbelt. I didn't know until just now, seeing him smile, that I can't survive without his warm eyes.
"I k-knew you'd find me."
"We're getting you out of here."
There's a whack behind us, and I look back to see that Cleopatra has gotten up and thrown, of all things, a chair at Levi's head. A little smirk curls her mouth, barely hidden by the fall of her hair. Any minute now she's going to rally and start fighting back—and we're not prepared for what's coming next.
I just hope I can drag Wyatt to safety before we have to face her at full strength.
"Grab his feet," I tell Mason, cognizant of the seconds that are slipping by. "We'll get him out of here and figure out what to do with the raging bitch later."
"Got it."
As his hand falls away from mine, so does the world.
My heart leaps into my throat, and for a moment I'm fumbling in the dark again, scared and alone. Then I remind myself: I'm never alone. I have my powers, and my Conduits. More importantly, I don't need to see to know where Wyatt is, or what's happening behind me.
Instead of giving in to the temptation to grab onto one of the guys' hands and hold on for dear life, I let myself spend a few precious heartbeats in the darkness, feeling and hearing the world around me.
The sound of Wyatt's shallow breathing.
Cleopatra cursing behind me.
A step-thump-step that could only be Grayson approaching her.
There's warmth just beneath my fingertips as I reach my hands out, skimming them just above Wyatt's chest. My nose takes in the smell of disinfectant. The bare skin of my knees on the floor tells me that the tile in here is damp and sticky.
Grabbing Wyatt's shoulders, I blink as the world returns to my sight. But it was always there all along—and I wasn't weak without it. As I heave his shoulders up, engage my thighs and calves, and drag him through the room with Mason, I remind myself that weakness is just another word for a different type of strength.
The strength to keep going when others would give up.
"Almost there," Mason murmurs, as we pass by Cleopatra, who seems to be under Grayson's spell—for now. "We'll get you to safety, Bud," he tells Wyatt. "Give us just a sec. And the next time you fall down unconscious, do me a favor—eat one breakfast, not two, the morning of."
"You're just jealous that I can fit more food in my mouth than you can." What a dude thing to brag about. A smirk curves Wyatt's mouth up, and he struggles in my arms. "I'm okay. Put me down—I can fight."
"I doubt that," I mutter, but he twists in our grips as we reach the door, and we're forced to put him down. I can't see him, and I fret. "Wyatt, be careful. That blood—"
"N-not all of it is... mine."
He grunts as he forces himself to his feet, and I feel him grab my hand, bringing my vision back. His strength seems to transfer to me from just the merest touch. And our connection flows some of the power of that strength of his back to him, bringing color to his cheeks and a spark of vigor to his eyes.
Just in time, too. I feel something strange and horrifying penetrate my mind. Turning to face Vervaine-slash-Cleopatra, I grab for every resource I have—Killer's eyes, Penny's instincts, my force field, Wyatt's strength—because there's someone foreign in my mind.
A confident, terrible smirk curves of Cleopatra's mouth, and she jerks away from Grayson's control, clenches her fists despite Levi's poison. Staring us down, she throws her influence out and pushes it into our hearts and minds.
I try to resist, but she's so much stronger than she led on at first.
That was just a test, I'm realizing now. She wanted to know how strong we all are. So she feigned weakness to find out what it would take to bring us down.
"Forget everything you know," she says in a voice that's thousands of years old. "Where you are. Who you are. It's all going topsy-turvy."
Confusion numbs me.
I blink, and the world is upside down. Panic makes me drop Wyatt's hand. Darkness closes in—then strange and terrible visions. I can see through Killer's eyes still, but things aren't right. I'm on the ceiling of the room with my terrified stray dog, but somehow everyone else is still on the floor. When I take a step forward, picking up my foot, the opposite-world gravity tries to shake me loose, and I quickly put my foot back down.
Levi is screaming and clawing at his face. Little holes appear in his skin wherever his nails touch them. Black bugs with shiny carapaces crawl from his face and neck. He scratches at his skin until blood beads beneath his nails.
I turn to the side and vomit onto the ceiling. Instead of my latest meal, terrible things come out: hair and teeth, bones and blood. It's like I've melted from the inside out and all the bits of me that were are leaving my body at once.
Hot and trembling, I wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand, searching for reality, trying to see the truth through Killer's eyes even as my own body betrays me.
On the right-side-up version of the room, Wyatt bellows and punches Mason in the chest. The illusionist grabs his fist and splits into two versions of himself, so there are two Masons fighting one Wyatt. Grayson snaps in half, bending over backwards until his spine sticks out of his skin.
I reach towards him, forgetting myself and taking a step forward. My feet come unglued from the ceiling and I topple to the ground; as I force myself up, pushing against the floor, I wrinkle my nose at the smell of vomit. And when I reach for eyes to look through, Killer is too scared to open his, so I look through Penny's eyes instead.
And I start to see the world as it truly is.
Things aren't right. This isn't real. I puked, and Wyatt punched Mason, and Levi is clawing at his skin, but—the rest of it never happened. Grayson is writhing on the ground like his spine snapped in half, but in reality he's just as whole as always—that is to say, only mostly. For some reason I can see all this through the cat's eyes in a way that I can't through my own or Killer's, as if there's something about her vision that cuts through falsehood and straight to the truth.
I can also see the look on Cleopatra's face.
She's winning and she knows it.
As we all lay on the ground immersed in our illusions, she went over to Wyatt and is starting her spell back up again. His body will be hers, and Brutus's once he's done with the Black Serpent, as soon as she's done weaving her influence over them.
I'm not going to let her do it. There has to be a way to break whatever terrible, mind-numbing confusion she's put over it all. When I touched Wyatt, I felt his strength and power.
And I still, I realize belatedly, have my father's ridiculously decorative knife tucked into the sheath at my hip. If one stab didn't work, maybe lucky number seven will kill this bitch. The knife has a little wriggle in its handle for some reason, like a piece of it is trying to break off, but the pointy end still stabbity stabs things.
As she starts her spell on Wyatt, I slip behind Cleopatra and grab for Mason. He's wild-eyed and confused-looking, but as I take his hand and look at him with my own two eyes, awareness slowly returns to his face. Putting my finger over my mouth, I motion him to silence and lead him to Grayson.
The mind-controlling, often-assholish former drug addict is curled up on the ground, but his pain and confusion wash away as I take his other hand. That just leaves Levi, who's scratching his neck enough to make me wince. I don't have a free hand for him, so I delicately reach over and kiss his cheek, then press my nose against his skin until I feel him settle.
He grabs my arm, just above Grayson's grip, and like a four-headed sea monster we turn towards our enemy.
She's staring down at Wyatt's body with her hands in the air. He's trying to fight her influence—the strong, impossibly brave Conduit of mine will never go down easy—but his eyes are wide and wild, his wounds clearly weakening him. This is one fight he can't face alone. None of us can.
So Mason steps forward, his free hand out in front of him, concentration on his face. Through our connection I can feel him reach out with his Emotional Affinity and envelop Cleopatra with his powers. He may have the subtlest Affinity among us, but the affects hit almost immediately.
She stumbles back from Wyatt's body, looking around her with wide eyes as her emotions create a masterful illusion all around her—one only she and Mason can see. It gives Levi the chance to break away and grab Wyatt, pulling him to his feet and dragging him back to his. Though he looks worse for the wear, he manages to shake off her latest attempt to take over his body, placing his hand on my shoulder and staring at us in gratitude.
"Now what?" Levi asks, throwing his hand out to push poison at her as the illusion consumes her senses. "We've got her trapped, yes, but will this even kill her? The stabbing didn't work."
"I have an idea," I tell them. "I think I can trap her with my force field. Levi—take my hand. Grayson, focus al
l your powers at her. Try to make her as confused as possible. Mason, keep up the illusion. And Wyatt... just rest. Whatever she's done to you, I don't want you overexerting yourself until it gets worse."
"I'm fine," he insists, though he looks far from it. "We should do this together."
"Rest."
Sighing, he reluctantly leans up against the wall, while I approach Vervaine cautiously, holding Levi's hand as he fills her with his poison. Her body seems to age before my very eyes, and she stumbles, stuck in Mason's illusion still, but I know better than to assume we're winning again. This could all be an act—she could break out of the illusion long enough to see we're coming for her, and fake being confused to lull us into a sense of complacency. But I don't intend on getting close or wasting any more time.
"Keep it up," I tell Levi, looking down at the ground beneath our feet and doing a few quick calculations. "This won't take long."
There's a lot of earth between us and Hell, but maybe if I try hard enough I can send Cleopatra straight to it. Aiming my force field down, I curve it like a shovel and ram it into the ground. Rubble crumbles inward at the force of it, the flooring and parts of the foundation peeling back. Pacing around our target, Levi poisons her as I set a trap for her, weakening the ground beneath her bit by bit until we've formed a circular ditch around her.
Then, just as she's talking to someone in the illusion—her words in a language I don't understand—I take what might be my final chance. Aiming a curved palm directly at her feet, I throw the full power of my force field at the floor there, using everything I have: all my training, the connection with Levi, and the strength my weakness has given my Affinities.
I can feel the earth crumble, can hear the school groan. It all collapses at once, and Cleopatra falls right through, anger twisting her face as the very earth swallows her.
Mason calls to me, "Watch out! She's left the illusion—I can't control her anymore."
"You bitch!" Her next words confirm what she says as she sneers at me, throwing her arms out to catch herself before her body falls in completely. "I'll fucking kill you!"
