Chasing Steel: Capturing Magic Books 1-3
Page 29
Maxton shakes his head. “Just leave if you’re not going to kill me.”
“I’m not leaving, and I’m not going to kill you,” Asher grits through his teeth, that control he had over his patience withering. “We can help you without killing you.” He pauses. “We have a plan. A plan that will one day get rid of our father, along with a lot of the evil leaders of our worlds.”
Maxton lets out a hollow, hoarse laugh. “Good luck with that. They’re untouchable.”
“Don’t be so skeptical,” Asher tells him with his fingers curled into fists. “No one is untouchable.”
“You’re stupid if you believe that,” Maxton says in a tone that makes me question if he can be persuaded.
Asher must not think so, too, because he grows quiet.
“Fine, I’ll kill you,” he finally says in a quiet tone.
“What?” I hiss, unsure what the hell he’s thinking.
He doesn’t even so much as glance at me, keeping his gaze fastened on his brother.
Maxton eyes Asher over with uncertainty. “You swear you will?”
When Asher nods, I just about lose my shit.
“Asher,” I start, but he throws me a nasty look from over his shoulder.
“This is between my brother and me,” he says, a warning ringing in his tone.
I start to back away, pissed off and irritated. I mean, Asher and I have done some questionable things, but this is beyond that.
Asher returns his attention back to Maxton. “Tell me how to get around the curse, and I’ll kill you. I swear on my genie lamp that I will.”
I shake my head, still moving away from them, preparing to leave.
Maxton nods, tension unraveling from his body as he sits up straighter. “All you have to do to get around it is to confuse it.”
“Okay.” Asher sounds confused.
So am I. But I’m not about to stick around and try to figure it out, only to have to witness Asher killing his own brother.
“How do I do that?” Asher asks. “With magic?”
“No. I already told you that the curse was sealed with Destiny, so no magic can break it.” Maxton pauses. “However, normal, nonmagical things can.”
“Like what?” Asher presses.
“By multiple creatures falling in love with her at the same time and vice versa,” Maxton states, causing me to freeze.
“There’s no way that’d work. She’d still be falling in love with someone, and I’d be falling in love with her …” He trails off, sinking into silence. “It won’t work.” He rises to his feet and turns around, preparing to storm out of the cave.
“Think about it, Ash,” Maxton calls out, using Asher’s nickname. Maybe that’s why he stops. Or maybe, deep down, he really wants to know if this will work.
Me? I’m a fucking skeptic. Not that I don’t believe multiple creatures can love one woman or man. It happens all the time with my kind. I just can’t see Asher being the kind of creature who would let that happen when he’s already so wound up about Harlynn.
“The curse states that she’ll kill someone if she falls in love with them,” he stresses. “Not someones. And if it all happened at the same time, it could confuse the magic. You know that happens sometimes. Spells, curses, and wishes, while powerful, almost always have one basic purpose—play around with it enough and it alters the entire structure.”
At this point, I’ve come to a grinding halt, and Asher meets my gaze. We exchange a look, and I know he’s wondering the same thing.
Could this work?
Asher slowly twists around to look at Maxton. “That doesn’t help my side of the curse, though. Mine stated that, when I fall in love with Harlynn, she’d die.”
“Did it?” Maxton asks, arching his brow. “Or did it state that when you fell in love with her and she with you, she’d die?”
When Asher doesn’t answer right away, I know it’s the latter.
“Thank you for the information.” Asher breaks the silence and spins around toward me. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Maxton calls out in a panic. “You swore on your lamp that you’d kill me.”
Asher pauses but doesn’t turn around. “And I will … one day.”
Maxton lets out a frustrated growl then moves to lunge forward, but the chains reach the end and yank him back. He curses. “You can’t do this to me,” he says in a shaky tone. “Please, just do it!”
Asher only strides toward the exit of the cave, signaling for me to follow.
“East, please help me,” Maxton begs as I start to follow Asher.
While his pleading makes my heart ache, I’m not about to kill him.
“We’ll save you from you father,” I promise. “We’ll find a way to break his control over you. I promise we will.”
He shakes his head as he slumps back. “The only way out is death.”
“There has to be another loophole,” I say, but he just sits there, shaking his head, so I hurry after Asher.
“That was a little harsh,” I say as I reach him.
“It had to be done,” he mumbles, fiddling with the cuffs on his wrists. “Or he never would’ve told us.”
“True,” I agree as we step out of the cave and into the bronzed sunlight of planet Steel. “Do you think it’ll work? What he said?”
Asher shrugs as we start through the trees. “It could.”
“But you’re not certain?” I question. “Because, honestly, I think it might work … What he was saying about spells and curses having a main goal, he was right about that. And I’ve heard of ways that creatures get around spells using loopholes. Although, never curses sealed by Destiny.” I frown at the realization of how powerful the magic used in Harlynn and Asher’s curse is.
Asher slows to a stop and yanks his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what to do.”
I halt beside him and rub my lips together, contemplating. “You could always gradually test it out. Falling in love usually isn’t an instantaneous thing like some creatures would like you to believe. It takes time, so you should be able to tell if it’s working or not before it kills you completely.”
“And then what?” Asher questions. “If it doesn’t work, then I just back off?”
I waver. “Well, you might have to leave her altogether. I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not sure if you can just stop it from happening.”
He presses his pale blue lips together, his eyes searching mine. “If I test this, who would I get to test it with?”
I shrug. “I have no idea.” I give a short pause. “Would you even be able to handle that? Sharing her?”
He gives what appears to be a casual shrug yet tension is flowing off him. “I’ve shared women before.”
“Not any you’ve loved. Love is a whole different territory.”
“How would you know? You’ve never been in love.”
“True.”
He stares at me with irritation in his eyes then sighs. “Maybe I should just let this go. It’s not like I have to fucking fall in love with her.”
I mentally roll my eyes at his pretending to be able to easily dismiss that.
Deep down, I know he really, really likes Harlynn. He wants her. And he wants the possibility of being able to fall in love with her. He always has since the day his father cursed him and showed him what he’d have then lose.
“Do whatever you want,” I tell him. “It’s your curse.” I start to walk away, heading back to the vehicle where Harlynn and Arrow are hanging out.
“Wait,” he says.
I pause, turning back around, confused as hell. And that confusion only grows when I spot the fear in his eyes.
“If I decided to do this—that I could do this”—he tensely massages the back of his neck—“you know what that means. That you and Arrow … That …” Frustrated, he releases a loud breath and collects himself. “You two would have to be on board. Because there’s no way I could do this with anyone else.”
I smash my lip
s together, unsure of what to say. I love the idea of being about to flirt with Harlynn, fucking touch her, fuck her when she’s ready, but love is on an entirely different level from fucking. I’ve seen worlds die over love. Kingdoms crumble. Love, it’s a powerful fucking thing.
And then, of course, there’s the feeling that, if we go through with this, we’re kind of playing with Harlynn. Not that I don’t love playing with her, but this way feels a bit…
“Even if I agreed, and so did Arrow, wouldn’t it be kind of manipulative?” I say my thoughts aloud. “I mean, we’d have to tell Harlynn in order for it not to be.”
He cocks a brow. “Since when do you care about manipulating someone?”
“Since that someone is a potential creature I’m supposed to fall in love with,” I quip. “A creature, I might add, that we still need to figure out what kind she is.”
“Would that change how you feel about this?”
“No.”
“Okay then,” he says, like that’s that.
I’m still puzzled as hell. “Okay then, what?”
“We talk to Arrow about this,” he says. “And then we’ll go from there. Does that work?”
I shrug, pretending this conversation is a lot more casual than it is. Like we’re not talking about creatures’ hearts being webbed together to break some stupid fucking curse created by a mad genie.
“Okay then,” Asher repeats then starts forward down the path again. “We’ll talk to Arrow tonight when Harlynn is in bed. I think we should collect those souls, too, while she’s sleeping so that she doesn’t try to come with us.”
“You don’t need to hide it from her,” I tell him. “I already talked to her about it—told her she didn’t need to help because of the whole … Yellow thing.” My fingers curl into a fist as my mind wanders to what the elf tried to do to her.
If I ever see him, I’ll kill him.
Asher gives me a questioning look. “And she was okay with that?”
I nod. “She’s kind of in a vulnerable place right now,” I tell him, speaking from experience. “Which means, if we do attempt this whole loophole thing, we’re going to have to be careful.”
He nods in agreement then sinks into silence for a moment before muttering, “I need to find a way to free my brother.”
“I know.”
He grows quiet again.
I remain quiet, too, stuck in my own thoughts, wondering how in the faeries this thing with Harlynn will even work. I mean, sure the idea seems easy, but I’ve never been in love. And I’ve been around for a very long time. That fact alone lets me know how rare love is.
Honestly, at this point, I’m not even sure it exists at all.
Harlynn
I’m floating in the universe, and Asher is hovering around me, smoke mixing with the stars and moons.
“Do it,” he whispers in my ear as he floats up behind me. “Syphon the magic from the world.”
I stare at the Moonlight world sparkling in the distance, dusted with silver and purple star dust. “I … don’t think I can,” I whisper.
And why is he asking me to do this at all? This isn’t like Asher?
I start to turn toward him, but he places his hands on my shoulders, digging his fingers deeply into my skin. “Do it now,” he commands.
A chill breaks out across my skin. “Asher?”
He just laughs, his laughter echoing across the world that he wants me to turn into dust.
That laugh, though, that’s not Asher’s. Yes, a genie may be behind me, but I don’t think …
“Ash’s father,” I whisper in horror, moving to float away, but he holds me in place.
“You’re not going anywhere. I own you. Now do it. Turn the planet into dust.”
I start to shake my head when heat begins to build in my chest. Consuming me. Wanting out.
Wanting to obey—
My eyelids spring open, and I gasp for air as I bolt upright in the quivering bed …
Quivering bed?
I look down at the silk sheets below me and start to relax.
“It was just a dream,” I whisper, releasing a tense breath.
Then I realize that the bed is shaking from my powers, which are jittering inside me, about to go over the edge—
A vase tumbles from off the dresser and shatters across the floor, making my heartrate spike and the room quiver even more.
“Shit,” I curse, knowing I need to calm down.
I take a few inhales and exhales, trying to do just that, but it’s not working. I keep seeing images of that dream—more like nightmare. It felt so real, like I was about to disintegrate that planet because Asher’s father had told me to.
What if my powers are evil?
As I peer around the shaking room, I wonder if maybe I’m correct. After all, the worlds patrol does have a bounty out for me, which means I’m considered a dangerous creature.
An uneven breath fumbles from my lips, and the shaking increases, causing pictures to fall off the walls and the lights to flicker on and off. If I don’t calm the hell down, the worlds traveling vehicle might crack apart.
Calm down, Harlynn. Just calm down—
The door to my bedroom suddenly flies open, and Ash is standing on the other side, wearing jeans, boots and, strangely, a shirt.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, sweeping his gaze around the room then landing on me.
My first instinct is to lie—it’s what I do—but considering the walls are actually starting to crack now, maybe I should just tell the truth.
“I had a nightmare, and I think it set my powers off,” I tell him in an unsteady tone that makes me cringe.
I hate seeming weak, vulnerable, or needy. And right now, I sound like all three.
His eyes soften a bit. “Can I come in?”
“You’re seriously asking for my permission?” I question. “Every other time, you just barge in.”
“Well, right now doesn’t seem like the best time to piss you off,” he quips, gesturing at all the broken glass on the floor.
“Right.” I sweep strands of my hair out of my eyes. “Yeah, you can come in.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he looks a bit anxious as he steps in. But an anxious genie? Yeah, there’s no way that could exist. Then again, I have seen him look worried, empathetic, and remorseful, and I never thought genies could possess any of those traits, so maybe he can be anxious, too. The question is: what is he anxious about?
He remains quiet until he reaches the bed. Then he hesitates before sitting down. Again, he looks unlike himself.
“What was your nightmare about?” he asks, his expression guarded.
I shake my head and shrug, staring down at my hands. “Nothing really.” I don’t want to admit what it was about, how his father told me to use my powers to disintegrate a planet. And how, for a moment, I’m pretty sure I was going to.
He hooks a finger under my chin. “I know you’re lying.”
“Yeah, so?” I angle my head to the side, moving it away from his finger. “I don’t have to tell you everything, genie dude.”
Usually, the corners of his lips quirk at my snarkiness. This time, though, he looks completely serious.
“I used to have nightmares about how I got these scars.” He gestures at his chest, and I think he might be about to tell me how he got them. “For years, it’s all I could dream about when I closed my eyes. I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming. The first handful of times it happened, it scared the shit out of East and Arrow. It got so bad that I started taking sleeping poppy every night so I could pass the hell out and not dream at all. It worked fantastically, too, but then I built up a tolerance and had to start doing different kinds of drugs until that became its own problem.” He lets out a quiet breath. “East and Arrow finally gave me an intervention; told me they were going to quit the band if I didn’t clean up my act. When I told them I was doing the drugs to avoid nightmares, East suggested I go talk to a magic hea
ler. I’m not sure if you know what those are, but I think they’re called, like, therapist or something in the human world.”
“I know what they are,” I inform him, glancing at his scars for a moment. Whatever happened to him had to have been painful. I want to ask, but if I do, that will be an opening for him to ask me questions. Questions I don’t want to answer. “I’m a little surprised, though, that East made you go to one. It seems like such a rational thing to do.”
His lips quirk. “East has his moments, especially when it comes to the wellbeing of his friends. It happens rarely and only when things get really bad, which is how I knew I needed help.”
I nod like I understand, but I don’t. Jason may have been my friend, but I can’t remember him ever trying to help me work through any of my issues. Not that I ever showed my vulnerable side. No, that side has only manifested with Asher, East, and Arrow. Especially with Ash. Like the time right after the incident with Yellow and I started to cry. I had never cried in front of anyone before, and to deal with it, I tried to do things I know I would’ve regretted once the flood of emotions left me. Luckily, Ash stopped things before I made that mistake.
I pick at a thread sticking up from off the comforter. “So, are you saying I need to go talk to a magic healer?”
When he hesitates, I glance up at him, only to find him staring at me with uncertainty.
“You could always talk to me?” he suggests, that anxiousness creeping up on his features again.
“You want me to talk to you about my problems?” I question with an arch of a brow. “For reals?”
He shrugs. “Maybe I can help.”
Doubtful.
Plus …“I’m not very good at talking about stuff.”
“Me either,” he agrees with a frown.
We grow quiet. I’m not sure what else to say. I do notice the room has stopped quivering, which means that this conversation has at least helped calm my powers down.