by Jada Fisher
“But Jacoby, this is wrong.”
“Then what, do you want to turn around now? Tell Mallory that yeah, they managed to get her heart back inside of her, but now she has to die because we can’t do the surgery to put a shunt in.”
“I…I don’t know. She’s my baby… but Mavis… these kids are someone’s babies too.”
He didn’t answer, his head swiveling this way and that. “Come on, I see their car.”
“Jacoby…”
He didn’t stop. Instead he got down onto the ground next to the car and did something that I couldn’t see. He emerged surprisingly quickly, wiping off his face and looking to his wife.
“It’s done. It’s just a nicked break line. We’re not the ones ramming a car into her.”
“We’re just as bad and you know it!”
“Maybe. But I can’t just sit by and let my daughter die. You think that, if we refused these tasks, that Estelle would just let us go? We know too much. How long do you think Mallory would survive if we were to suddenly disappear?”
“I… I…” It only made me feel slightly better that Mavis’ voice cracked. “... just take me home, Jacoby. I feel sick.”
I took a step forward, hand outstretched, wanting to ask them what they had done, whose car they had just sabotaged, but then the vision was racing off, taking me somewhere else.
Cold fear drenched me as I was treated to a terrifying montage of Mallory’s parents and other dwarves from Estelle’s little group of murderers as they slunk through the night, laying traps and committing various heinous acts of arson or violence.
And with every act, one or more Seer or Seer-potential died. They had no mercy. Babies disappeared from cribs, teenagers had sudden overdoses. It was a stream of horror, through and through, and the more I saw, the more I was filled with absolute rage.
Murderers! They were all murderers!
And they’d gotten away with it. They’d used the little connection they had to magic and local law enforcement to become serial killers. Practitioners of a small-scale genocide.
I was going to make them pay.
I’d woken up a lot of different ways in my life. I’d woken up hungry, thirsty, sick, and scared. I’d woken up lost, confused, and in other dimensions. But I never, never had woken up enraged before.
I guessed there was a first time for everything.
My feet hit the floor before I even really knew what I was doing, and I marched out of my room in my pajamas. I didn’t care, however. All I felt was rage and betrayal, sitting heavy in my stomach.
“Davie? Davie, where are you going?”
I could hear Mickey’s voice far behind me. She was probably standing at the door of our suite, all concerned and uncertain, but I couldn’t risk turning around and losing any of my momentum. I had one goal in my mind, burning bright and fueled by over ten years of hurt.
I reached the doors of Malloy’s family suite and kicked it open. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was able to use my physical strength for something, which was just what I needed. More than any other time in my life, I wanted to crush. I wanted to break.
“Oh, hey there, Davie,” Mrs. Mavis said, looking up from where she and Mr. Jacoby were eating breakfast at a small table. “Is something wrong? You need Mallory?”
“You,” I hissed, storming toward them.
Somewhere between my trek from the door to their table, they seemed to put together that something was off and stood, Mr. Jacoby pushing Mavis behind him. I didn’t care, however, and grabbed onto the stupid piece of furniture.
“What’s going on, Davie?”
“Tell me you didn’t kill them!” I heard myself scream as I flipped the entire thing over, shoving it out of my way as I closed in on them. “Look in my eyes and tell me that you weren’t there! That you didn’t stop it! You didn’t stop any of them! Murderers!”
I grabbed Mr. Jacoby’s collar and hauled him to me. I had outgrown Mallory’s parents since the year after I met them, and I had almost a foot on the both of them. I’d never thought of using my size against them, but as I stared down into his crumpled expression, my rage only grew hotter.
“You did it, didn’t you? So many of them! You were there! You participated! You… you killed people! My people! You tried to wipe us out!”
“Davie, look, we’re so sorry!” Mavis ran around her husband, trying to pry my grip from his shirt, but I just shoved her back.
“Sorry!? You killed my parents. You tried to kill us. All of us! You thought that just opening a garage door would redeem you?”
“H-how do you know all this?”
“I’m a seer! What did you expect? That your secret would just stay buried?!” I shook him, as if I could throttle the consequences of his actions into his body. “You murdered so many of us! That just doesn’t go away. You don’t get to get away with that! You— You!” I sputtered, my rage overtaking my mind until there were no words. I just wanted someone to hurt like I was. I wanted to squeeze his skull until all the bad bleed out of him.
So many years I thought that what had happened to my parents had just been an accident. Some sort of unfortunate luck. A tragedy. Then I’d found out that it was planned, and I’d moved on—mostly because I had only recently come back from the dead. But I couldn’t cope with them trying to wipe my entire species out.
That was too much to bear.
The thought made me sick and I let out a furious cry. My first drew back, as if a single blow could carry all the pain inside of me. Bubbling, poison-hot, and spiked, I wanted him to feel all of it. I’d never struck someone in anger before, but it seemed like a good time to break that streak.
“You killed my family!”
Then my fist was flying right toward his face. I wanted to hear bone crunch. I wanted to feel the pain of impact across my knuckles. I wanted my pound of flesh, even if I knew it would never be enough.
But before anything made contact, small hands gripped my arm and I was flipped over something solid, crashing to the floor in a heap. I grunted, trying to jump to my feet, only for Mallory to jump on top of me, straddling my middle with one of her hands pressing my neck into my floor.
“Davie, what are you doing?!”
“Let me go,” I warned. “Let me go!”
I swung at her, my best friend, because she didn’t understand it. She didn’t understand any of it. Dressed in her pajamas, a thin scar visible just over the camisole that she wore. That scar that had been paid for with my parents’ blood. With the blood of oracles I’d never meet because they came to violent ends.
There was supposed to be so many of us! A rebirth of a people. But there was just Mickey, Krisjian, and I. Three lone survivors of a targeted attack on us.
Did she know? Had she always known? She said that she’d been watching out for me ever since we met.
But what if it wasn’t watching out so much as it was just watching. Seers were dangerous to her people, after all, enough to be killed as children or babies or even in the belly of their mother. Maybe she was just put in place to make sure I stayed in mine.
“Mickey! Help me! What’s going on?” She was looking at the door and I took the opportunity to land a fist on the side of her head, throwing my hips to the side at the same time.
Mallory went tumbling, which allowed me to stalk right back toward her parents.
“Look, Davie, we know there are no words to justify what we did. But believe us, we’ve felt guilty ever since. But we had to save our baby girl. We couldn’t just let her die! We’ve tried to make it up to you ever since you came back into our lives. We even tasked our daughter with protecting you!”
I didn’t have words. I didn’t have anything to shout at them. I felt like I was empty, the ground opening below me and leaving me raw and aching. My parents had been murdered, my kind almost wiped out, and the people who killed them were right in front of me. The people who had scarred my hand, my sister’s entire right half. The people who acted like good guys
, like guardians, but really were killers with little remorse. And the only reason I knew was because some spirit of death had let me see what I’d never wanted to know.
“Felt guilty?” I heard Mallory ask, rushing toward me. I spun, anticipating her move, and kicked her square in the stomach.
In all our years together, Mallory and I had never fought. Never raised a single hand against each other. And yet here we were, her desperately trying to stop me and me just desperate for someone to be punished. It didn’t make sense that I had lost so much, lost everything, and no one had been punished for it.
“They killed my people!” I screeched, whipping back to the two, who were pressed up against the wall, Jacoby armed with a broken chair, but Mavis just sobbing into her hands. “They burned us! Poisoned us! Hit us with cars!”
Mallory’s eyes went wide, her eyes flicking from them to me. I could see a war waging on her face but it was nothing compared to the inferno of a battle raging within my own skin. “What? Mom, Dad. That’s not true! That’s not true, right?”
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Mavis hiccupped between sobs. “It was a moment of weakness. That was all! We were so trapped. You were so sick baby. We had to save you, you understand that, right?”
“No,” I shouted, closing in on them once more. “My parents were trapped as they burned to death in their bedroom. My sister and I were trapped as we passed out in the garage. You trapped us. And now you’re finally going to pay.”
I’d almost reached them again, grabbing the chair in Jacoby’s hands, but then Mallory was in front of me, both of her hands slamming into my middle and forcing me back.
“Davie!” I heard Mickey cry, trying to grab ahold of me, but I couldn’t be stopped. So much had happened. So much bad. I deserved justice. We deserved justice.
“I’m so sorry, Davie,” Mallory said, her face looking absolutely tortured. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to stop.”
“What’s going on is that your mom and dad killed or had a hand in killing at least a dozen people. Innocent people. So step aside and let me right this.”
I rushed them again, but Mallory caught me in one of those stupid MMA holds and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, her foot on my chest.
“I…I can’t let you do that. You have to know that. I can’t just stand back and let you beat on my parents.”
“Your parents are murderers!”
“And that may be true! But this isn’t the way to solve it!”
“May be true?” I hissed. Of course, she didn’t want to believe it. Who wanted to believe that the people who raised them could be monsters?
I grabbed Mallory’s ankle and twisted as hard as I could, sending her sprawling to the ground. I hardly registered getting up, but suddenly I was, and I was tearing toward the two that had taken everything from me.
They were right there, right within my grasp, when suddenly strong arms hooked under my armpits, hauling me off my feet.
“Come on, Davie. Let’s go.”
I recognized Bronn’s voice in the very back of my mind, but it didn’t soothe me at all. No, he was just as much a part of my stress as everyone else. Nothing was right anymore. Maybe Death was right. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be there at all. Maybe it would be better if I just went back to where I was supposed to.
“No!” I screamed, kicking, bucking against his hold, but he had me fast. I saw Mr. Jacoby and Mrs. Mavis get smaller as he pulled me farther, until I was out of the room entirely.
“No! No, they’re right there!” I screamed. “You can’t do this! They— They killed them! They killed them all!”
There was a flurry of movement and suddenly the grip on me shifted. My head spun, and by the time it cleared, I realized that I was thrown over Bronn’s strong shoulder.
“Let me go! Let me down!” I cried, kicking and writhing. But his hold was like iron, and he continued to carry me through the hall and down the stairs until suddenly, we were in a different room entirely.
Finally, I was placed on my feet, and I scrambled to go right back the way I came. But Bronn grabbed my wrist and hauled me to him, his arms wrapping around me in a strong embrace.
“Davie, you have to stop. You can’t do this. You can’t, okay?”
“Who are you to tell me I can’t do something!?” I snapped, trying to headbutt him. I was just one giant, open wound. I wanted to lash out at everyone and anyone. They didn’t understand. They hadn’t spent years smiling in the face of their parents’ killers. Thanking them for rides. Sleeping over at their house. I had been tricked, in the cruelest way, and it broke me.
“Davie, Davie, I’m not telling you what to do. But I know you. I know you don’t really want to hurt them.”
“Like hell I don’t!”
But he held me fast against his warm body. It wasn’t confining, just warm. And secure. Somehow, it cut off everything else, making a sort of shield from the maelstrom that I had been thrust into.
“They killed my parents,” I murmured finally, going limp in his hold. “They killed almost all the seers. Before they even had a chance to awaken. Before they had a chance to even be anyone.”
“I know, I know,” he comforted, his arms stroking up and down my back. “And we’ll deal with that in a bit. When you’re ready. But not right now.”
“I… I…” I tried to say something, explain something, but instead, a wracking sob erupted from my throat and I was crying into his chest. “This can’t be real,” I repeated for the billionth time, but quite possibly never out loud before.
To his credit, Bronn just held me, rocking me gently as I lost myself. Pain, shock, betrayal, confusion, it all washed out of me in an intense, burning wave. I cried until I was weak, sobbed until my legs threatened to give out. I just wept and wept until I was completely empty and exhausted from the drama of it all.
“There you go,” Bronn said, pulling back just slightly enough so that his large, calloused thumbs could wipe away my tears. “It’s still the middle of the night. Do you want to sleep?”
I nodded silently, burying my face in his chest again. I didn’t care about how awkward or tense it had been between us lately. I just needed comfort right now. Something to hold onto, an anchor in the churning seas below my feet.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
And with that, he picked me up like I was nothing. I lazily wrapped my legs around his middle, but he was doing all the lifting. We were moving again, but I didn’t even bother to look up. I was spent. Empty.
My best friend’s parents had helped burn my house down. We’d been targeted because I was a seer and too young to know to hide my true nature. If I… If I had just been normal, none of it would have happened at all.
It was all my fault.
That thought played in my head over and over as I was set down on a plush, luxurious mattress. I practically melted into it, until Bronn’s hands pulled me upright enough to gulp down the glass of water he pressed to my lips.
“There you go, drink up, and then you can rest. I’ll make sure no one bothers you, alright?”
I let out a vague sound, and when the glass was finished, he let me settle into the softness. I was faintly aware that he tucked me in, then I was sliding back into sleep.
I just hoped that, for once, I didn’t dream.
5
Always on the Lookout
I woke up with an unreasonable amount of crust around my eyes, practically sealing them shut. It put me into a bit of a panic where I wondered if that was just my life now, before a cool cloth was gently pressed to them. I flinched automatically but relaxed as a familiar voice spoke.
“I’m here for you.”
Bronn’s voice was gentle, soothing, and I let myself lean into his hand as he rested the cloth over my eyes. A few moments later, he pulled away, and I was finally able to blink my eyes a bit.
Sure, it was everything that I could do on my own, but it was nice to be tended to a little. To be babied. Which was p
robably a little weird because I had just been complaining about my sister and Mallory coddling me a bit too much.
Then again, that was before I had learned that my parents and all the other oracles had been murdered and my best friend’s parents had a part in it, were active participants in it, even if they were only little errand boys.
Ugh. What was my life?
“Here, more water.”
Sure enough, he had a glass of water in my hands and I drained it deeply, cool water washing over my dry mouth. I definitely must have snored during the night, considering how parched I was, which made me wonder if Mickey had managed to get any sleep at—
Wait a minute.
Blinking the last of the schmutz from my eyes, I looked around curiously. I wasn’t in my room. I wasn’t in anything that looked like my room.
If I thought our suite was big, it was practically a closet compared to where I was now. The bedroom surrounding me was the size of Mickey’s and my own space combined, and I could see other rooms through several sets of open doors. The bed I was on was huge, bigger than a California King, and covered in rich, blue sheets and blankets. Were they silk? I didn’t know, but they sure were nice.
A gilded canopy was over my head with thick, deep blue curtains that looked like they cost more than my yearly wage as a barista. They were tied back at the moment, but I thought that I could see gems and beads and embroidery on the outer side. Now that was opulent.
“Am… Am I in your room?” I whispered, ducking down like I expected a host of purists to come in and heave me out with screams of impropriety.
But no one came rushing, and no horns sounded. The only thing that happened was Bronn chuckling lightly. “Yes. Does that bother you?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “But where did you sleep?”
“My couch is plenty comfortable.” He pointed over his shoulder and I did indeed see a plush, oversized couch that I definitely never could have afforded. There were thick, comfortable-looking blankets sprawled across it and a near comical amount of pillows.
