by Brandt, Eva
The voice went conspicuously silent. I dumped my mug on my coffee table and threw my hands up in exasperation. “Oh, come on. Give me a fucking break here. You can’t throw something like that at me and then expect me to ignore it.” I already had an errant werewolf to worry about. If there was someone else out there in the same situation, I’d do something regrettable. Like stalk back to the massive palace of the Alarians, ask for a meeting with their king and force him to do something else about this bullshit.
“I don’t expect you to ignore it, no,” the voice dutifully replied, “It’s just that I may not be the best person to tell you these things.”
“Not the best person? But why?”
Once again, the voice didn’t answer. I would have tried to insist, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted our conversation. I let out a vicious curse. The last thing I was in the mood for was a visitor.
“You should probably get that,” the new bane of my existence drawled, having apparently decided it could speak again now that it didn’t have to say something useful.
“Fuck you very much,” I replied, even as I stalked toward the entrance of my apartment. Without bothering to look through the peephole—because I was too pissed off to do anything rational—I opened the door outright.
“What?” I growled, the snappish word escaping me before I could even take in the identity of my visitor.
Pierce stared at me, a little wide-eyed, his hand still hovering over my doorbell. “Err... Hi. Is this a bad time?”
Fuck. Yes, it really was, but the Garniers had said that they’d come back to check up on me after my supposed injury at the club fire that wasn’t. “Not exactly,” I lied. “Come in. Sorry for the... not so welcoming welcome.”
I stepped aside and gestured for Pierce to come in. He did so, at which point I finally noticed that he was carrying a small basket. “Oh, no.” I groaned. “What did your mother send me this time?”
Unmoved by my dismayed question, Pierce chuckled. Traitor. “Just be grateful she stuck to making you a care package. If it had been up to her, we’d have packed you up and brought you home to the food, instead.”
“Thanks for the kind offer, but I’d rather stay here,” I replied.
“Yeah, I know.” He set the basket down on my coffee table, his warm smile dissipating into a small scowl which instantly put me on the edge. “Are you feeling all right? No headaches or anything?”
“Just a little tired,” I replied. “I’m sure I’ll be fine in no time.”
I had no such certainties. In fact, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Since that night when I had stupidly agreed to go with Diane, the world had gone completely mad. Or maybe I’d been the one who’d lost my mind.
I couldn’t tell Pierce that any more than I could tell Diane, so instead, I decided to change the subject. “What about Diane? Is she doing all right?”
“Of course. You know she got out far sooner than you.”
“Doesn’t mean it didn’t affect her at all, at least emotionally.”
Wow, I had actually managed to say that with a straight face. In hindsight, I should have thought about it sooner. Diane had fussed over me so much upon my return from the hospital that it simply hadn’t occurred to me to look into her possible injuries. I would have forgotten to ask altogether if not for wanting to distract Pierce from my own situation. I was a horrible friend.
Pierce did not seem to mind it, though, nor did he appear concerned about his sister. He shook his head and shot me a quick, fond smile. “You keep reprimanding us for worrying about you, but you always unavoidably worry about us. Isn’t that a little hypocritical?”
“That’s not hypocrisy, it’s sense,” I shot back. “Besides, it’s not the concern I have a problem with. I just don’t want you to trouble yourselves with me overmuch.”
Pierce tilted his head and cupped his ear as if he was trying to listen to a distant noise. “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of my mother screeching that it’s no trouble at all.”
Despite myself—and the fact that I was dealing with a serious crisis—I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. “She would do that, wouldn’t she? Thanks, Pierce, really, but I’m fine.”
Pierce wasn’t any more convinced by my reassurances than his mother would’ve been. “If you’re sure. I can’t help but notice that you look a little pale and upset. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, just let—”
“You can step away from her, scavenger,” a sudden voice said from my right, cutting Pierce off.
I yelped and turned on my heel so quickly I almost fell over. Pierce’s reaction was somewhat less embarrassing. He shot forward and placed himself between me and the source of the voice.
The new arrival chuckled. “Really? You’re going to play this game with me? Are you trying to tell me that you aren’t here to hurt her? Don’t make me laugh. Step away from her, now.”
The voice sounded familiar, although I couldn’t for the life of me remember where I’d heard it before. I stole a look past Pierce’s larger body and froze the moment I caught a glimpse of the man now standing in front of me.
Tall and pale-skinned, he emanated a presence that was both comforting and oppressive. I had no idea how that was possible, but while I acknowledged his power, I knew he meant me no harm. I’d also met him before. It had been... It had been at the club, the same day I’d met Declan.
A pulse of pain shot through my temples, but the haze of confusion lifted from my mind a little further. Some of my memories were still blurry, but I clearly recalled Declan, the moment he had protected me from the man who had called me a “morsel”, him getting injured by... someone, the whole incident descending into an all-out battle that would’ve undoubtedly ended with my consumption—and then, this man showing up and rescuing me.
“Who are you?” I asked. I hadn’t done so during our first meeting, or if he had introduced himself, I could not remember that part.
“My name is Malachai Braun. I am a guardian like Declan, his partner, and best friend. I’ve been keeping an eye on you since it became obvious that recent developments might put you at risk.”
Anger surged through me and I narrowed my eyes at him. “If Declan is so interested in protecting me, he should do it himself, not dump the task in your lap.”
“There’s a little more to it than that,” Malachai replied. “Declan wasn’t actually the one who asked me to do this. But right now, I don’t think this is the best moment to discuss such details. You’re in danger. Please, stand back while I take care of the threat.”
“Threat?” I repeated in disbelief. “Do you mean... Pierce? You cannot be serious. Pierce is no threat to me.”
“I understand why you might think that,” Malachai answered, “but all scavengers are threats. Your companion is no exception. Or am I wrong?”
The latter question turned out to be directed at Pierce. I expected him to immediately clarify the misconception. It was ridiculous to state that Pierce would have anything in common with those cannibalistic wackos.
Pierce should have laughed. He should have perhaps questioned Malachai’s sanity or asked what the hell a scavenger was. Instead, he was conspicuously silent.
A sudden feeling of dread pooled in my gut. Surely not. Surely this was a mistake. It couldn’t possibly be true. Right? “Pierce, what is he talking about?” I asked.
Still no response. Irritated, I made a grab for his arm and tried to get him to face me. I didn’t have his physical strength, but I shouldn’t have needed it.
Pierce tore himself away from me so quickly I almost lost my balance and staggered back. “Don’t touch me!” he snapped.
He hadn’t hurt me, but I still cradled my arm to my chest, my heart sinking as I realized that I might have missed something very important about my friend. “Pierce? Please... He’s lying. You would never do anything so horrible. Right?”
He flinched but did not give me the answer I sought, which was an answer in itself, rea
lly. But no, I couldn’t draw any hasty conclusions. I had known Pierce for years, and he’d never shown any inclination to consume me, not even in a way I would’ve enjoyed. “There has to be some kind of misunderstanding,” I insisted, shaking my head. “If Pierce had wanted me dead, I would’ve been five feet under before I’d even met Declan. He’s just confused. I’m sure he doesn’t understand any of this, and he can hardly be blamed for that.”
Malachai smiled at me, the tiny twist of lips somehow managing to convey sadness despite the fact that it clearly displayed his sharp fangs. “I would not have made such an accusation about someone dear to you had I not been perfectly sure it was true. You have no reason to trust me. I’m an Accursed as well, and so far your experience with us has been anything but stellar. However, you need to be aware that not every scavenger is the same. Pierce Garnier’s breed is particularly insidious. To be perfectly blunt, he’s—”
“Don’t,” Pierce cut him off. “Stop talking, blood-sucker. You don’t understand anything. Someone like you could never hope to understand.”
In the blink of an eye, Malachai’s demeanor completely changed. “Understand what?” he snarled, his eyes glowing a feral red. “That you’ve been using my soulmate as a glorified battery?”
My brain staggered to a halt as I struggled to process the two nouns in that sentence. I didn’t know which one shocked me most, “soulmate” or “battery”.
Before Pierce’s arrival, the voice had already mentioned me having more than one soulmate. I hadn’t gotten the chance to question it more about what it knew.
What in the world was going on? What the fuck were the qualifications for being somebody’s soulmate anyway? If that legend Prince Darius had mentioned was true, shouldn’t the soulmate thing naturally involve monogamous relationships? How did these people even know that some random chick they’d met at a club was their destined other half?
And more importantly... Battery?
“Battery?” I asked out loud because I had to do it, because I needed to know, even if I was terrified of what I was about to hear.
“The Garniers are twice-blessed.” Malachai sneered, spitting out the latter words like a curse. “It is a type of scavenger that feeds on the natural latent magic that often lingers in humans, despite their otherwise non-magical nature. Obviously, magical beings—such as, for example, fae—are even more popular targets, but they usually know how to defend themselves. An unawakened latent, however, is an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
My breath caught as I remembered the way Diane had attached herself to me from the very first day we’d met. She’d made herself indispensable to me, to the point that I had allowed her to wriggle her way into my life more and more even if I didn’t always feel comfortable with it. She had then insisted to introduce me to her mother and brother, and I had embraced that too. They had been so welcoming, like the family I’d always hoped to have when I’d been an orphan child, still dreaming to one day be found and taken in by someone who would love me.
“No. That... That can’t be.” I shot Pierce a pleading look, willing him to at least face me. “Pierce, tell me that’s not true. Please.”
Much to my embarrassment, my voice cracked when I uttered my request, but perhaps it was for the best because it finally got him to show a reaction. He glanced at me, and on his face, I saw the answer he had not given me through words.
Hysterical laughter rose in my chest. “All this time... All this time, I was nothing more than food for you. No wonder your mother wanted me healthy. God forbid that she lose her source of nourishment.”
Pierce extended his hand toward me, having apparently decided I was once again worthy of his attention. “No, Lucienne. It’s not like that. I know this looks bad, but we weren’t... We care about you, I swear.”
I staggered away from the two men and leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling light-headed. “Right. The same way a farmer would care for a chicken he plans to turn into soup when his wife gets a cold. Thanks, Pierce. That’s very generous. God, you must’ve thought I was so...”
I clenched my jaw, refusing to finish that sentence, to let him know how much the intrinsic rejection and deceit of their actions had hurt me. Honestly, I would’ve preferred it if they had tried to eat me like those crazy mass-murderers Declan had saved me from. At least those people hadn’t pretended that they actually gave a shit about me as a person.
I’d never have that, would I, not with anyone? Declan’s interest in me was related to this mysterious concept of soulmate that was beginning to have no meaning. Malachai was likely the same. We had barely exchanged two sentences, and the way he was looking at me suggested a far deeper attachment.
Pierce, as well as Diane and Mrs. Garnier, had seen me as food, which, in hindsight, might explain why I hadn’t displayed any signs of mystical abilities throughout our acquaintance. If they had been feeding on me this whole time, my magic must’ve been drained and suppressed, unable to manifest as it normally would have. Then again, I didn’t remember being magical throughout my childhood either, so what the hell did I know?
Maybe I was just drawing stupid conclusions, or maybe I had always been right when I’d felt the need to put distance between me and the Garniers. Clearly, there was something wrong with me if I could never have a genuine relationship with anyone.
“Oh, Lucienne,” my mental companion murmured sadly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Considering the fact that the reassuring comment came from a disembodied voice in my head, I couldn’t help but doubt it very much. Either way, I didn’t even care anymore. I had no desire to continue debating this at all. “Get out of my house, Pierce. I don’t want to see you right now. Not ever, maybe.”
“Lucienne...”
“No. You’ve had your fun and your food. I’m sure you’ll find someone else that’s just as tasty and less of a chore to be around. I have a job to do, and I don’t have time to worry about you.” My anger over the Garniers’ unexpected betrayal didn’t change the fact that I needed to help Declan. Malachai would probably have a way to contact his werewolf friend. I’d start there.
Pierce did not take my rejection well. All of a sudden, his presence seemed to swell. Suffocating energy filled the room, and his eyes started to glow with an inner light that reminded me a little of Prince Darius. “I’m not leaving!” he shouted. “Not until you listen to me. It’s true that I’m an Accursed. It’s true that I fucked up. We all did. But we had our reasons and—”
Pierce never got the chance to finish the sentence. Malachai must have been waiting for Pierce to make a false move, or perhaps get distracted, because the next thing I knew, he was lunging at my former friend, baring his fangs like a feral animal. Bright red light bloomed around Pierce like a shield, and he managed to repel Malachai’s attack. He wasn’t quick enough to avoid getting wounded, and by the time the strange glow threw Malachai back, three bloody slashes had appeared on Pierce’s cheek. Malachai had narrowly missed his eye, but it had been a close call.
Malachai smirked, not seeming in the least bit deterred by Pierce’s defenses. “You won’t be able to hide forever, twice-blessed. Your magic won’t keep you safe from me. I’m not afraid of getting burned.”
“Who says I’m hiding, leech?” Pierce growled back. Under my very eyes, his wounds closed, disappearing like they had never been. His magic swirled in the air, thick and potent, as if it had a mind of its own. The temperature rose in my small apartment as fiery daggers manifested in front of him. He meant business. “What is more powerful, your little arsenal of tricks, half of which you can’t use, or my magic, which isn’t torn apart and crippled?”
“Your magic is stolen from Lucienne, you fucking bastard!” Malachai snarled.
Pierce didn’t try to defend his actions. Instead, he just attacked, the knives flying unerringly toward Malachai. Malachai dodged, but the projectiles swerved mid-air, tracking him down like homing missiles. Apparently deciding to fight fire with fire, Mala
chai produced a dagger of his own—an actual object, rather than a mystical creation—and threw it at Pierce.
Pierce cursed and jumped to the side, but the dagger still sliced his arm. Apparently, whatever shield had kept Malachai from doing more damage to him earlier didn’t protect him from the weaponry guardians used.
Despite my anger at Pierce, I didn’t want him hurt. I didn’t want either of them hurt. “Wait!” I shouted. “Wait, please! Stop!”
They didn’t listen. I was not surprised since Accursed didn’t seem very prone to listening to anyone or anything except their own notions of what was right and wrong. To their credit, they did seem aware of my presence, as they were obviously avoiding the area where I was located. Malachai had yet to pull out his gun, although I knew for a fact that he must’ve had one. Meanwhile, Pierce waved a hand in my general direction and a bright light manifested in front of me, like a veil separating my side of the room from theirs.
I tested the veil with my hand, and my heart fell when I realized it was solid, like an unbreakable wall. I was pretty much cut off from them, helpless and trapped, unable to do anything but watch as they fought to the death in front of me.
What the actual fuck? What was this, The Gladiator? I would not accept that. I was not the type to sit idly by while two guys fought their grudges off in my presence.
“Pierce! Malachai! Don’t fucking do this! Stop!”
They ignored me, still completely focused on one another, as if I wasn’t even there. This was not happening. My existence was not something negligible they could just disregard when it was convenient for them. By now, Malachai had somehow ended up clinging to my chandelier like a demented monkey, and Pierce kept throwing bolts of magic at him, cursing whenever Malachai dodged.
They didn’t have a lot of room in my tiny apartment for a grand confrontation, so naturally, they crashed against my second-hand, but well-loved furniture. Pierce managed to scorch several walls, upend the couch and stumble into the TV. My chandelier could not hold Malachai’s weight and came crashing down. While I didn’t think any of the damage they did to the room was that serious, I still grew infuriated.
