by Bailey, G.
“Boots,” Landon says, putting a hand on my arm, “you okay?”
For a moment, I feel like I’ve lost the ability to speak. “He was like me,” I say at last, my tone wondering. “He was a hybrid.” Who was he, I wonder? How did he end up willingly subjugating his fellow shifters?
Is that what I could have been, if I had taken a different path?
It’s not a question I have an answer for, and I find myself turning away as I struggle not to be sick. The only thing that distracts me is a nudge from Shade, who silently points down the cliff towards the beach below. Silas’s parents are below us, sprawled out on the sand in positions hauntingly similar to the corpses in my nightmare. Their bodies look utterly destroyed, but to my surprise, they’re still alive by the time we approach them. With the spellcaster dead, they should have their minds back, but not much more; it’s clear that, as with Theo, it’s too late to get them medical attention.
“Silas…” I say, but my voice trails off. The dragon shifter turns to me, and I see the question in his eyes. I give his hand a squeeze before letting it go. “Take as long as you need,” I murmur.
He nods, pulls away from me, and his form grows distant as he kneels in the sand between his parents. I don’t feel right coming any closer. I can hear their voices, but the sea breeze makes it impossible to hear what they’re saying. Maybe that’s for the best—this isn’t the kind of moment that’s meant for outsiders.
Landon, Hunter, Shade, and I turn away, standing in silence as the last member of our group says goodbye to the parents and to the childhood that was taken from him. I’m not sure how much time passes, but eventually, the tall dragon shifter comes back to us. “I floated the bodies out to sea,” he says. “It was the least I could do.”
“What did you—” Shade clears his throat. “Did they…?”
“They died as themselves,” Silas says quietly, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s the best we can hope for.”
I can only nod, slipping my hand silently back into his. I desperately want to embrace him, to soothe his pain and whisper that it’s going to be okay, but it isn’t my place. Grieving and processing will have to wait, as horrible as that is. We’re not done yet.
“What do we do now?” asks Hunter.
“The only thing we can do,” replies Shade.
I nod slowly. “We get the rest of rebels and we move on the Academy. One way or another, we’re ending this.”
Our party is silent as we step out of the hotel and onto the Edinburgh street. Filing out of the building behind us are all the remaining rebel shifters Theo gathered, leaving his intent when he went after us. I don’t know if it’s going to be enough, but there’s no time left. Without a word, the guys and I lead our army in the direction of downtown.
A short teleportation later, we’re standing on the shores of the island that’s come to dominate my life this past year. I can see the campus rising up in the distance, past the lush green hill we’re now standing on. It’s strange to think that the first time I saw this view, I had no idea what kind of war was coming next. The whole place is surprisingly unchanged; there’s hardly a cloud in the sky, and the weather is idyllic. Birdsong fills the air, and if I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t think anything was amiss.
Slowly we move forward, and as we descend the hill, dozens of figures become visible below us in the quad. The whole place is packed; students, faculty, and teachers are all standing there stiffly, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that none of them is on our side. Have they been waiting for us? I wonder. Did they know we were coming for them? Maybe killing the spellcaster tipped them off. It doesn’t matter, really—by now they’ve seen us. We’re committed.
Landon takes my wrist gently before I can continue forward, and I realize that he and the rest of the guys are hanging back. Eyes wide, I turn back to them. “We can’t stop now,” I tell them.
“We know,” replies Hunter.
“But if anything happens,” adds Shade, “to you, to any of us…” His voice breaks, and an uncharacteristic fear flashes in his gray eyes.
“We love you, Millie Brix,” Silas says simply. The others nod somberly, their eyes never leaving mine.
“I love you too,” I tell them. “All of you.”
None of us needs to say anything else; one by one, they each approach me and press a kiss to my lips. I savor the feeling desperately, wondering if this will be the last time. There are, after all, no guarantees. Silas’s parents were proof enough of that. But the moment ends all too quickly, and soon enough we're huddled together once more, staring down at the army that awaits us. I glance at each of the guys in turn and then take a step forward. “No going back,” I say, rolling my shoulders. “Now come on. Let’s finish this.”
Ó
Chapter 84
It all started here, on a remote island in the Scottish Isles, so I guess it’s appropriate that it should all end in the same place. Poetic, in a way, like the path I’ve been following for so long—often unwittingly—has at last come full circle. It feels both like it’s been more than a single year since I first discovered my powers, but at the same time, it’s as if hardly any time has passed at all. Between coming to the school, meeting the guys, and first pulling on the thread that unraveled the corruption in the human ranks, I’ve become a new person, literally and figuratively.
The question at the forefront of my mind now, as I lead our group out of the main building and into the quad, is whether that will even be enough. Hawthorne having powers is bad, and from what I’ve seen, his newfound magic puts him on par with me. The only thing I have on my side is experience, and even that doesn’t hold up very well against his army of brainwashed minions.
Silas and Shade are to my left, and Landon and Hunter are to my right, flanking me. Behind us are the Murakami twins, Hazel, and Josie, who is breathing hard from her prior exertion; she’s done an admirable job so far, and it’s astonishing that she’s even still on her feet after expending as much magic as she already has. We won’t be able to count on her for this last push, I’m afraid, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that Hawthorne has us outnumbered. We may have the students on our side, but he has the faculty, and one look across the courtyard at the enemy posse is enough to tell me that they’re practically foaming at the mouth.
There’s a moment of eerie silence as the two opposing groups face each other down from opposite sides of the quad, like two armies about to do battle. In a way, I suppose we are, although most armies aren’t being mind-controlled by a cabal of witches, so…
“And here we are,” says Hawthorne, spreading his arms out as his voice rings out over the courtyard. “A fitting end to our saga, isn’t it, Ms. Brix?” His eyes flash with thinly veiled madness, and I can see how bloodshot they are; when was the last time he slept, let alone ate? His veins are prominent and dark, the corruption of his newly acquired magic permeating his entire body. The other school board members look similarly affected, although the corruption isn’t as far along for them—is there a chance of undoing it, when this is all over?
“Well, Millie?” Hawthorne prompts me again in the silence outside. “I have to admit, I was expecting something with a bit more flair, coming from the girl who’s at the heart of this little game of ours. Freedom fighting doesn’t leave much free time, I suppose.”
Shade makes an angry noise and lunges forward, but I catch him by the wrist. “Don’t,” I murmur in a low voice. “Wait for him to make the first move.”
“Is that really it?” Hawthorne sounds almost maniacal at this point. Months of waiting for this standoff, and now I’m not playing ball; I have to admit to a little satisfaction at that. “No smart remark? No rallying cry for your ragtag army? Nothing at all to say for yourself?”
“Just one thing,” I reply. My voice rings out clear and steady, in stark contrast to the fear bubbling up inside me. Mollie’s words echo in my mind then, and I close my eyes for a brief moment: Fear happens to everyone, Millie. What
matters is what you do in spite of it. Whether from the nugget of wisdom or the fact that, one way or another, this all ends here, a wave of calm washes over me, and when I open my eyes, the whole world has melted away, save for Hawthorne. “I hope you’ve been practicing,” I say, and then I leap into the air. I’m shifting into my dragon form before I hit the ground again, launching myself across the open space at top speed.
It’s as good a cue as any, and just like that, the nervous tension evaporates. The opposing groups charge each other like enemy troops, and within seconds the whole quad has erupted into a horde of battling shapeshifters. By the time I clash with Hawthorne, I’ve shifted my upper half into my witch form so I can use the technique Josie taught me to keep track of the guys; it takes a bit of concentration to keep psychic tabs on them as they join the fray, but I need to know that they’re safe. If anything else happened to them because of me…
That train of thought is cut short when Hawthorne, now also in his dragon form, comes crashing down on top of me, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I get my hands up in front of me and release a pulse of telekinetic magic; it isn’t hard enough to send him flying, but it’s enough to push him off for a moment, and a moment is all I need.
I shift fully into my vampire form just in time for his slashing claws to lash out at me. There’s a small surge of pain, but he doesn’t break my sturdy skin, and I have speed on my side. My hand flies out to catch his wrist, pulling his giant form forward just enough to knock him off balance. It’s becoming clear that he’s not used to being in his other forms yet, which I’m aware could be my saving grace.
Reaching out with my mind, I check on the others: Hunter and Silas are somewhere behind me, teaming up against a duo of wolf shifters, while Landon and Shade are making short work of one of the former board members. The teachers are the real issue, and without being familiar with their magic signatures, it’s hard to tell who’s on our side.
Doesn’t matter, I remind myself, gritting my teeth and whirling around to leap onto Hawthorne’s back. He lets out a roar of frustration and pain as I pry at his golden scales with my hands, actually managing to pull one loose. Before I can target the wound, however, Hawthorne is shifting out from underneath me, soon standing in front of me in his vampire form. We circle each other for a moment, fangs bared, and I catch the movement out of the corner of my eye a split second before he’s on me. Now it’s my turn to be put on the defense, grabbing onto his upper half as he tries to grapple me onto the ground. Locked together, we each lean into our supernatural strength, but we’re evenly matched. Almost.
Opening my mouth, I exhale a fireball straight into Hawthorne’s midsection. Still a vampire, his reaction is painful and immediate as he lets out a yell of pain and releases his grip on me. Seizing the opportunity, I lunge forward in my wolf form and tackle him to the ground, powerful jaws clamping down on his wound.
That probably wasn’t such a good idea, I realize, when he lifts up his arms, now shifted into witch form, and launches me back with the same kind of telekinetic push that I so often favor. I struggle to get to my feet, but the waves of energy just keep coming, keeping me doubled over like the world’s strongest gust of wind.
Thinking quickly, I allow my upper half to shift into siren form before unleashing a sonic screech on par with the force he’s directing at me. The pulsating sound waves neutralize his magic, allowing me to struggle back to my feet.
All around us, the battle rages; out of the corner of my eye, I see Hunter being knocked over by a dragon’s tail, and that brief moment of distraction is all Hawthorne needs. The next thing I know, my arm is exploding with pain as a pair of wolf’s jaws clamp down on my shoulder. My knees buckle, the distraction of the pain overwhelming for a moment, and then my legs go out from under me.
Hawthorne might be an asshole, but he’s no idiot. Seeing his opening, he goes in for the kill, unlocking his jaws long enough to make a lunge for my throat. Winded, thrashing, and thrown off my game, I squeeze my eyes shut in preparation for the killing blow, only for the weight to suddenly disappear from my chest. Struggling to sit up, I widen my eyes in amazement when I see Amelia Ash shoving Hawthorne off of me, her red eyes gleaming in the sunlight. Panting and a little dazed, I accept the hand she extends to me. “Thank you,” I tell her sincerely.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she replies, before taking off to assist her brother.
I’m barely able to get my bearings before Hawthorne goes in for another attack, this time from his siren form. I roll out of the way of the incoming soundwaves before seizing on one of the benches and hurling it at him with my mind. The bastard manages to deflect my witch magic with his own, and a horrible realization comes to me as I watch him shrug off blow after blow: we’re going to kill each other. We’re evenly matched, and for all his bluster, Hawthorne isn’t giving in. The insanity on his face tells me everything I need to know: he would rather go down with this ship than see all his work be undone.
Am I willing to do the same?
Frantic, I scramble for some idea, anything that might give me an edge over the man who has dogged my footsteps for as long as I can remember, but it’s hopeless. Anything magical I can do, he can counter just as easily.
And then, as clear as if someone else were speaking to me, a thought rings loud and clear through my mind. The answer comes to me so easily that I can scarcely believe I didn’t think of it before.
I shift back into human form.
“Give up?” Hawthorne demands, breathing heavily as he shifts back into his dragon form and advances on me. “I can respect that,” he says, his fanged jaws snapping with rage. “I’ll make it quick, Ms. Brix.”
I brace myself for the impact, and when it comes, it takes everything I have not to scream. Hawthorne’s massive jaws latch around my arm, his teeth shredding my shoulder and dampening my shirt with blood. The pain is unbearable, but secondary to my task; all I have to do is not pass out, give it one last push…
Faintly, I’m aware of someone yelling my name. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Landon watching me with wide eyes, already moving to come help me. The battle around me seems to slow down, the magic flying through the air, looking for a moment as if it were traveling underwater. My arm is being crushed in Hawthorne’s jaws, the pain all-consuming…
I close my eyes and think of my parents, think of Mollie, of Josie, of Hazel and the twins, of the guys…
And then I unleash my witch magic, the hand still in Hawthorne’s mouth lighting up from the sheer power of it. His dragon’s eyes widen when he realizes what’s happening, but it’s too late; a split second later, an explosion of energy is bursting out of him, tearing his body apart from the inside out. I’m soaked in blood, but the grip on my shoulder loosens as he dies, collapsing in a heap in front of me before slowly turning back into his human form. His body is mangled, his head an unrecognizable pulp, but I could swear I can still feel the hatred rolling off of him in waves.
Cradling my battered arm in front of my chest, I stare down at the corpse in disbelief. The sight is gruesome, and I’m still in a great deal of pain, but it’s all dimmed against the reality of what’s just happened.
Hawthorne is dead.
We won.
* * *
It would be nice to be able to say after that everything came to a neat close, tied up with a bow, the conflict reduced to a distant memory. But real life doesn’t work like that, as much as we want to. As tired as we may be, there’s always another battle to be fought.
The only difference is that this isn’t a physical battle.
“How are things going?” I ask, leaning across Hawthorne’s desk to meet Josie’s eyes. It’s strange being on this side of the president’s desk, especially after having been on the receiving end of more than one of his stern lectures over the months. It feels almost surreal somehow, like I’ve walked into a dream.
The aftermath of the fight is as bloody and unromantic as one might expect. For all that I wanted to
avoid violence, there was never going to be a way around it entirely. Corpses littered the quad when I finally stepped away from Hawthorne’s body, those of both students and faculty, on both sides. It’s enough to make my stomach turn. Not for the first time, I wish the guys were here by my side, but they’re busy helping with the cleanup process, leaving me as the impromptu leader in the aftermath of Hawthorne’s destruction.
“Slow,” Josie replies, reaching up to massage the back of her neck. She’s never looked older than she does in this moment, and I can’t blame her; this has aged all of us, probably irrevocably. “The hex ran deep. Even now that I’ve removed the glyphs from under the registrar’s office, there’s residual power that still needs to be siphoned off before classes can resume.” She hesitates for a moment, taking a breath. “If classes resume.”
“Not having the entire campus susceptible to mind control is a good place to start,” I acknowledge. “After that, though…”
“We’re going to have to find a way to keep the Academy open,” Hunter’s father speaks up. He and the surviving board members—all shifters—are standing in the back of Hawthorne’s office, watching my discussion with a mixture of hope and trepidation. Hazel and the Murakami twins are standing behind me by the windows, and their presence puts me at ease. It’s nice to know that I’m still among friends, especially with our world reeling the way it is.
“Agreed,” says one of the other board members. “We’ve been fielding calls from the other Academies left and right all morning. People want answers, and without Hawthorne…”
“You cut off the head of the snake, Millie,” Josie puts in. “The question is what we’re going to do with what’s left.”
“Why are you all looking to me for answers, anyway?” I ask, turning from one faculty fellow to the next. In spite of everything I’ve accomplished, I can’t help but feel a little small in the presence of all these people who were once my superiors. “I just killed him. I didn’t mean to take his job.”
