When we finally break apart, I press my forehead to his, breathing him in for just a little longer. As we stand there, surrounded by those that seek to destroy us, I wonder if I am making the right choice.
Jaxon loves me, and I love him. Am I stupid for not letting that be enough? For pushing away the one boy who is willing to sacrifice everything he believes in to save me? Standing here now, it all seems kind of stupid. I open my mouth, ready to take it all back, and beg him to forgive me.
To tell him that I don’t need some stupid bond, or some ancient tattoo to make what we have real. That it is already the most real part of me.
I open my mouth to say all of that, but fate....
Fate hates me.
He never sees it coming, but I do. I am facing the only window in the room, and I see it. I see it, but I can’t stop it. There isn’t time.
A scream rips from the deepest part of my soul as the window shatters into a million fragments of glass. I don’t have time to warn him, and my brain is too shocked to think about a smarter option.
Looking back, I had a better choice, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty. What they don’t tell you. What no one warns you about is that in the moment, panic blinds you. Instinct takes over.
Jaxon’s pupils enlarge at the sound of my panic, and he starts to turn. I don’t let him. I don’t know how I know, but every part of me knows that if this tragedy touches him, he won’t survive it.
I use my speed, thankful that I can be really fast when I want to be. I am already standing so close to him, so it doesn’t take much. Just a little twist of my hips while holding on to him. That is all it takes to throw Jaxon out of the line of fire, and myself directly into it.
I feel it before I see it. The searing pain in my chest. A burning, tearing sensation that only gets worse when I try to take my next breath. Blood spreads like spilled ink over the white cotton of my uniform, every pump of my heart bleeding out onto my shirt.
I feel Jaxon’s arms catch me as my knees start to crumble. His face a twisted mask of worry and horror. A deep coldness settles into my bones as Jaxon slowly lowers me to the ground. His warm hands press against the pain in my chest, pressing and pressing as he calls for his brothers.
“Why Princess? Why would you do that?” he cries, his tears dripping onto my face as he pushes harder.
The irony isn’t lost on me. If we were bonded, he could heal me. Without a healer I won’t make it. The one thing he denied me to keep me safe is going to be reason that I die.
Sure. I heal quickly, but something about this wound feels different. My body isn’t even trying to heal itself. Who would have thought that after everything, something as human as a gunshot would take me out?
“Ha...aaaddd,” I stammer, my voice shaking as I try to get the words out. “to....sa.....ve...you. I......love.......”
I can’t finish my sentence, but Jaxon’s face tells me that he knows. He pulls me closer, calling for his brothers again. I am at the edge of oblivion when I hear them enter. A choir of stomping feet, muffled curses, and angry shouts.
My eyes won’t open, and a deep coldness has replaced every ounce of warmth inside of me. A searing pain flares to life on my lower back. The only fire to combat the chill of death that wants so desperately to take me.
I know without looking that another piece of my tattoo just filled in. The rune for sacrifice.
Too late though. It was all too late.
Jaxon is whispering to me, and I try to cling to his words. So that maybe...just maybe...I can carry them with me into the afterlife.
“I love you Maci. You hold on. Braxton is here. He will fix this. Just hold on.” Jaxon demands of me.
Braxton’s voice grows closer, and his hands take the place of Jaxon’s over the wound in my chest. I wait for the heat that usually accompanies his healings, but nothing happens.
“Why isn’t it working! Fix her Dammit!” Jaxon demands of his brother.
“I.....I cannot,” Braxton says sadly, keeping his hands there despite his words.
“What do you mean you can’t? You are the best damn healer in the universe! FIX HER!” Jax yells, and my heart breaks a little more for him.
This isn’t Braxton’s fault. It is something else. Something more. A spell maybe? Either way, this isn’t a simple gunshot wound. It is magic. Dark magic. I can feel it.
“Give her to me,” a new voice says. Zane. When did Zane get here?
I can feel Jaxon’s hesitation, and apparently so can Zane. “I think I know what this is. I think I can fix her, but to do that you have to give her to me. Please,” Zane tries again, and whatever Jaxon sees on his face must work.
My shaking body is quickly handed to another pair of familiar arms. A new hand presses to my wound, and the words of an ancient spell drift to my ears.
“Quod sit revelare abscondita quae non videntur fix”
Zane repeats the spell three more times before a slow warmth begins to filter into my chest. My breathing becomes easier, and my shaking slows. My eyes still refuse to open, but I no longer feel like roadkill.
“What is it? What is wrong with her? Why wasn’t she healing?” Jaxon demands, grabbing my hand and squeezing. The simple touch saying more than words ever will.
“Radix daemoniorum,” Zane whispers, his hands leaving my skin just as a peaceful warmth settles into my bones.
“What the hell does that mean witch boy?” Braxton grumbles, taking my other hand in his large one. If I didn’t know better, I would say he almost sounds ......concerned.
“Devil’s root,” Zane sighs. “The bullet was coated in Devil’s root. That doesn’t make sense though,” Zane says with frustration. “Devil’s root kills angels on contact. She should be dead. Even magic is not enough to reverse the effect of the root on angelic blood.”
Jaxon laughs, his hand squeezing mine so hard that my fingers grind under his grip. I wish so bad that my eyes would open right now, because I can only imagine the crazy look he is getting from the others.
“About that,” Jaxon says, telling the others the events of the last hour just as darkness finally claims me.
∞
~ Chapter 8 ~
Who would have ever thought that being half demon would be a good thing? Turns out, it is the only thing that saved me. My instincts were right. If that bullet would have so much as grazed Jaxon, he would be dead.
Devil’s root is an herb grown in the deepest layer of Hell. It is said to only be found in Lucifer’s personal garden. Zane explained to me that Lucifer’s assassins often dip their weapons in it to increase their chance of a successful kill.
Which brings up the even bigger question. When did I become so important that the devil decided I needed to die? Assuming the bullet was meant for me. I guess it is possible that they were aiming for Jaxon, and I just messed up their plan. Either way, someone with a lot of pull in the Underworld wants one or both of us dead.
Just another layer to the absolute suckage of my life.
It took me three days to wake up after getting shot with the herb that keeps on giving. Three days lost in the darkness of my own mind. Three long.....horrible days.
Once again, it was Zane who helped me find my way back. He found me floating in what he calls the spiritual plane. It seems to be my go-to place when unconsciousness claims me. This time was different though. This time I wasn’t alone.
Where once there was only darkness and voices, now there were people. Millions of people. It was so crowded that I could barely walk without bumping into someone. Muttering apology after apology as I waded deeper and deeper into the unknown.
I felt like I had been walking forever when I heard his voice.
“Maci. Stop. I need you to stop now.”
“Zane? Zane! Where are you? Where am I? Help me!” I shouted, as the thick rolling fog gave away to darkness. All around me people begin to scream, dropping to their knees and covering their ears in a desperate attempt to stop the voices.
The fog cleared slightly, and I saw him. His eyes franticly searching the field. I could tell the moment that he saw me. His amber eyes flashed with a relief so deep that I could almost feel it.
Then we were both running. Him to the broken girl who kept needing rescued. Me to the mysterious boy who never let me down.
We met somewhere in the middle. I jumped at the same time that he opened his arms. My body slamming into his with so much force that had he been anyone else he might have fallen. Not Zane though. Never Zane.
“Oh thank god,” he muttered into my hair as he pulled me closer to the warm shelter of his body. I hadn’t realized how cold I was until this moment. I shivered against him, drawing his warmth into me.
“What happened? Where are we?” I ask, pulling back to look at him. He sits me gently on my feet, his hands blazing a trail of heat down my sides as he does.
“You don’t remember?” he questions, raising a brow at me and waiting. Remember? What is there to remember?
“I was with Jaxon....I froze everyone, and then.....” I say, scrunching my brow up as my mind draws a complete blank.
“Why can’t I remember? What happened Zane? Where are the others?” I ask, trying to stay calm as I feel the icy fingers of panic start to wiggle their way inside.
Zane either has the patience of a saint, or he is used to my freakish ability to ask seven questions in one breath. He doesn’t even bat an eye at my outburst. He takes my hand, whispering a spell under his breath. The path in front of us clears, the darkness peeling away from beneath our feet. A bench appears from the depths of the mist, and Zane quietly guides me to it. He waits until I am sitting to start talking.
“You were shot. You were with Jaxon and your mother in Wanda’s office. You froze the room after.....” he starts, but I cut him off, the memory slamming into me.
“After my mother told me I was half demon.” I finish for him, my hand flying to my chest as the memory slowly starts to come back to me.
Zane nods. His hand finding mine and squeezing softly. I should pull away from him. Touching him feels wrong. He isn’t Jaxon, but right now I need his touch. If for no other reason than to remind myself that I’m not dead.
Wait....
“Am I dead? Did I die?” I panic, remembering what Zane told me about his witchy powers and the spiritual plane.
“No,” he laughs. “This is the spirit realm, but you are not dead. I do not know how you walk here Maci. Only witches and the dead should be able to, but you are neither. You are something else,” he finishes seriously.
“You know when you are little, and your parents tell you that when you grow up you are going to be something special?” I laugh.
“Ummm no,” Zane says. “Not really.”
“Well.....being special sucks. I would give anything to just be normal.” I say, pushing up from the bench and taking a deep breath.
“That isn’t possible,” Zane says quietly. “Not for you.”
We grow quiet for a while after that, but Zane uses our time together to fill me in on what I have missed over the last three days.
Apparently, Jaxon lost his mind again, and the entire town of Carson Hill flooded. The national weather service is totally mystified about the sudden weather phenomena, calling it unnatural. If they only had a clue how right that they are.
My tempus mojo must have an expiration date all of its own, because four hours after I lost my battle with consciousness the others unfroze. It took Ryker to deal with Bianca, since the queen B was set on killing me when she woke up with a bloody face.
Ry painted her a whole new reality. One that I got a kick out of. He made her think that she spent the entire afternoon making out with Seth Nelson. A nerdy kid that smells like stale feet.
That I would have paid admission to see.
My mother and Wanda surprisingly agreed to let Jaxon and the brothers take care of me. Zane thinks it was so that they could go after the person who tried to kill me.
Either way, they left the school together three days ago, and haven’t returned. C.J. flipped out, and only calmed down when Talon used his vampy mojo to help her rest.
They moved me to Jaxon’s room. Which is where my body is now. Zane says that the problem is that the devil’s root works by drawing the spirit from the body. Angels are pure spirits, which is why the root is fatal to them. Lucky for me, I am not a pure blood. My tainted blood will be what saves me. Now, they just need me to reconnect my spirit with my body. Problem is.....I have no idea how to do that.
Hence my three day stay in the spiritual plane. AKA the void. The void is where spirits go who still cling to their humanity. Who refuse to go into the afterlife.
To hear Zane explain it, reconnecting with my body is as easy as willing it. Yeah....too bad for me that nothing about being me is ever easy.
I have been trying for hours to find my way back, but each time all that I manage is to make the headache behind my left eye grow a little larger. I close my eyes, trying once more to picture my spirit floating back into my body just like Zane explained.
Once again....nothing happens.
“UUUUHHHHH!!!!!” I shout, tugging at my hair as I jump to my feet. “This is pointless. I can’t do it! You might as well leave me here,” I say defeated.
“You can. I know you can,” Zane insists, and his voice holds nothing but certainty. A certainty that I do not feel.
His eyes shine with a hint of mischief. A sparkle that promises trouble. He smiles as he grabs my hand, pulling me back to sit beside him.
“I have an idea. A plan. I think I know a way to get you back to your body. Just don’t.....don’t hit me ok,” he says with a chuckle. “Be right back for you.”
Then he vanishes. As in poof! Gone!
“Zane!” I shout, panic clawing its way to the surface as I push to my feet. With his absence the fog returns, and I can’t see anything as I scan the darkness for him.
“Zane!” I try again, desperation clinging to my voice like an ugly stain as I call for him.
He left me! Why would he leave me? He knows how much I hate it here.
A warm tingle starts at the curve of my jaw, and I gasp as a pale blue flame dances along my flesh. I shiver as the flame moves from the curve of my jaw to the dip of my collar bone and up again. Like my skin is a guitar and the flames are being manipulated by invisible fingers.
The touch is warm, and does something strange to me as I fight the desire that rises inside of me. This is magic. It has to be, but the way the flames lick the soft flesh of my skin feels almost physical in nature.
Sensual......
My knees nearly buckle as the flame dances across my rib cage, circling the tender flesh of my abdomen and up again. Over and over the flames make this same track, like the pattern is a backroad that they like to slowly drive down on a sunny day.
“Maci....Come to me,” he whispers, and even though I know he isn’t here, I would know his voice anywhere.
“Zane?” I question, as I start to put together what is happening in my mind. The flames. The magic. This...this is all him. He is doing this!
“Close your eyes Angel. Feel the power that calls to you. My power. Your power. The power of the flame lives inside of both of us. My magic calls to yours. That is how I can always find you, and that is how you must find me now. Close your eyes Maci, and come back to me. To yourself.”
What is he talking about? The magic of the flame? I wish that I could say none of his words make sense to me, but as the blue fire licks over my skin I remember that first night at Jaxon’s.
The flames that no one else could touch, except for Zane. Hell fire. Talon had called it Hell fire. The angels looked almost afraid of me then, but not Zane.
Zane didn’t hesitate to step closer to me. To reach for me when all others backed away. He wasn’t afraid of the fire, because he too controls it.
I close my eyes, trying to think back on the little that I do know about witches. Witches are either of the light or dark,
but all are half human and half demon. That is how they are created. The child of a demon and a human is a witch.
Zane is half demon like me.
“Follow my voice Maci. Believe that you can,” he urges, and this time when I open my eyes a trail of fire cuts through the darkness, lighting my way. I take off in that direction, slowly at first, but then faster.
Faster and faster until I am running. I reach the edge of the fog, but I don’t stop running. My feet carry me to the edge of the cliff, but I don’t even hesitate. I jump.
The fall is fast. I scream as I tumble through the darkness. The last thought that enters my mind is that this time there is no one there to catch me.
∞
Falling into your body hurts more than I thought that it would. It definitely does not classify as peaceful.
It sorta sucks.
“Uuuuuhhhh,” I groan, jerking up so quickly that my forehead slams into a very startled Zane. His amber eyes study me carefully before he breaks into a fit of laughter.
“Welcome back. You did it. Don’t worry. The first time sucks for everyone.”
“Thanks....I think,” I mumble, bringing a shaky hand up to my now throbbing head. “Uhhhh....why do I feel like I have been hit by a truck?” I complain, licking my lips in a sad attempt to draw some moisture back into my very dry mouth.
“Here,” Zane says, reaching to a table beside the bed and handing me a cup of water. “This will help,” he urges, practically placing the water against my lips. I feel zero shame as I chug the entire glass.
“More?” Zane laughs, raising his eyebrow at me.
“No,” I mumble, repositioning myself so that I can sit up. A pulling sensation stretches across my lower back, and my hand goes to rub the offending spot. Zane’s eyes study me closely, a look that I really don’t like hiding behind his cool amber gaze.
That look. I know that look. I have worn it a million times when watching Ashlee. It is the look of concern. A worry that eats at you, until there is nothing left.
“What?” I question immediately, scanning my body for anything out of the ordinary. A quick inventory reveals the normal. Long wavy hair that really, really needs a good brushing, olive toned skin, two boobs.
Avenge (Hillcrest Book 2) Page 7
