by Jamie Magee
“Are you to help him, then?” she asked flatly. “Has my worth to this coven expired? My happy ending has arrived?”
“It’s not about you, Reveca!”
“Right, it’s about the fucking universe!” she raged, turning from him ready to stomp away, but instead rendered herself into a steady pace back and forth.
Every fiber in her body was telling her to run, but she was too willful to do so. “The universe doesn’t give a fuck about us, let alone me. Like every other damned thing, it only cares about its own survival.” She offered a cruel glance at Jamison. Still seeing he was furious, she looked away. “We are made in the image of our Creator, inside and out.”
“This is your one and only warning. Any irrational act on your part will demand that I take action against you.”
“Me?” she huffed. “Not the bastard that is waking my executioner at the moment. I’ve got news for you, without me none of you will ever know what Zale has plotted or how to stop all he has set in motion. None of you will prevail over the dark gods coming your way.” She gritted her teeth. “My worth is far more valuable than one measly member of a dead divinity.”
“Yes, you—the selfish bitch that you are.”
Her vim slammed into Jamison on instinct. He didn’t even bother to sway. Instead, he raised his brow. “Three of the most blessedly designed witches are being held in a mortal court by supernatural beings, and you can’t even offer well wishes on their plight.”
“Blessedly designed,” she repeated sarcastically. “I fucking designed them. “Gwinn would be dead without me. Adair would be stuck in a twisted loop without me. And if you think for a second that someone would not have snatched Bastion up without my protection, you are a fool.”
“Again, it’s all about you in your mind. You refuse to see yourself as an instrument in a greater plan, and instead, take full credit merely because you were present at the time.”
“Whatever you say, Jamison. Unhand the text before I destroy this entire library.”
“Go for it,” he said as he turned to watch the looking glass. The courtroom was emptying; the hallway was full. now the struggle was to figure out where they were taking the prisoners. Out of goodwill, he sent the plates on the vans to Knight, as well as the intent of the spell the coven had placed on the vehicles, Jamison was sure he was already dialed in watching from his high-tech angle, but the good gesture would gain Jamison even more leeway with the bikers if Reveca kept up her current mood.
“I know you’ve helped him. You are the reason Scorpio has come back repeatedly,” Reveca said from behind him. Her tone was calmer but still held the same desperate edge.
Jamison would never admit to helping November Scorpio. It wasn’t out of fear, but because he knew Scorpio needed no help, the knowledge was within him already, just waiting to be awakened. Under it all, he was an orphan who witnessed the destruction of his parents, a child tossed into a dimension that was far too young to understand his greatness.
Jamison turned to face Reveca.
“There are far easier ways to destroy me,” she said simply. “You could’ve let me die long ago, seconds after King was taken, would have been my one true life wish.”
“You wish to escape the pain?”
If she said yes, Jamison knew she was truly lost. To the culture she was born to, pain was a gift. Pain was never openly sought and felt deeply when it arrived, but once it passed, the lessons it left were so precious and rich that it was always seen as a gift. Cowering away from such a blessing was the greatest of insults to the universe.
“No one wishes to die, or to suffer.”
“In this realm.”
“This is my realm!” she grunted. “I am sick of fucking battling a history that I escaped.”
“A history that you attract. November Scorpio did not invade you, you invaded him.”
“And who’s fucking fault was it that he was in my path? That no other fallen male on that blood-soaked battlefield called to me but him? I was set up!”
Jamison swayed his head hating the narcissistic side of Reveca that only those who truly knew her—that had seen her before her power had taken root— had witnessed. “Have you ever once tried to make peace with him?” Jamison asked lifting his chin. He already knew the answer.
“He wanted Talon, not me.” A shiver ran down her spine. “Fighting women for a man is one thing, fighting another man,” she swayed her head. “Fucked up.”
“It wasn’t the loyalty Scorpio wanted from Talon that bothered you. It was the fact that Talon wanted to give it to him. It was the fact that you knew he very well could offer Talon more protection than you could. It was the fact that you knew every warrior you brought back would only follow Talon. It didn’t matter how grateful they were for you, how much respect they had for you. They held leniency with Talon, a man they could trust to lead them soundly through any conflict.”
It didn’t matter how many times one was faced with raw truth, it chilled the bone each time. Reveca pressed her lips together as she kept her pace. If Jamison’s intent was to sooth her rage, he had taken the wrong path. Right then, she had never wanted her Sons to suffer more. How dare they, after all this time, still see her as someone to be dismissed?
“Talon is falling apart,” she said more to herself than Jamison. Days ago, she had done the unthinkable and saved Talon with vim she shared with King. She was a different person days ago. She was a woman who was trying to keep her family together. To stay strong in the face of divergence.
Today, she wished she’d let him break then. If she had, by now the Sons would have rallied around the one leader they still had. In time, they would have accepted King as their new leader. More so, they would have been strung tight, willing to protect her at any fucking cost! Even if it meant slaying one who wore their patch, one she had warned them all about for eras. Ah yes, the glory of fucked up hindsight.
“And Talon’s demise, this is my fault?” Jamison said dismissively. At this point in his lifetime, he could dictate the arguments cast his way before the Creator ever thought to string together their point. Reveca would and could blame anything and everything on Jamison if given enough time to reason her wild ideas.
“Of course it is.” Reveca balled her fists. “Pick a side Jamison. You cannot plot to throw King in my life once more then criticize the choices I make. You knew this fall of my family was coming. You yearned for it. A delicious ending that you and Saige have no doubt laughed about as you sipped your fucking tea and acted like a civilized fucking mortal.”
“Who is in your bed is not the reason Talon is falling apart.”
“No, of course not. He’s just too powerful to fuck anyone else in this realm without killing them, and he happens to have a conscious. He could fuck the manic fire goddess, but you know, he doesn’t want to give her false hope.”
Jamison searched her eyes trying to understand if she was as oblivious as she sounded now. “He’s weak because Ambrosia is slowly killing him. She has been for years. Your power sustained him.”
“Right, my fault.”
“Fine, martyr. It is. If you had simply taken the time to understand what the hell you stepped in when you toyed with a power you should’ve let be, then maybe you would be better prepared for today.”
“Better prepared? What a farce. I have begged you to help me destroy Scorpio, and now we are down to the wire, to him all but openly demanding my head, and you will still not come to my defense!”
“The way I hear it, you are the only one demanding heads.”
“Spying on me?” she accused.
“No, but I know how to answer a phone. I know your ex would not have bothered to call me if he wasn’t sure you had officially gone too far this time.”
Hearing that Talon reached out to Jamison, of all people, sickened Reveca to the point where she had to tell herself to swallow, and not think about it. She was sure the sky itself was due to fall on her next.
“No one can ever go too far
when defending their life.”
“I’m sure November Scorpio would agree with you.”
There was no way for Reveca to stop her eyes from glistening. A soul could only take so many thrashes before emotion broke through the walls it was held behind. “If you will not tell me how to destroy him, tell me how to send him away. Blind him from me and my own.”
Astonishment hit Jamison’s stare, but Reveca refused to show shame. Yes, she was asking to avoid a pain and lesson coming her way, but by god, she had her reasons. There were too many people counting on her. Her Sons could turn on her all day long. They could pass any law they wanted, but in the end, she was their Creator, and when she fought for her survival, she was fighting for more than her own.
“No witch can blind another from what belongs to them.”
“They are mine,” she raged, never more sure of her words.
Any hope for reasoning with Reveca was lost, and Jamison knew it. “We each belong to a source that can not be explained meekly. You insult the power in you with your selfish temper.”
Jamison went to walk away knowing his time would be better served tracking Gwinn and the others. He made it to the stairs before his temper got the better of him. He turned and glared coldly back at the one witch he had always yearned to see grow into the glory that was promised to her, a future so great that her parents risked an entire dimension to ensure that their daughter was aligned with powerful beings and carefully hidden until the pages of time had turned.
Jamison was positive wherever her father was now, his head was hung in shame. “Throngs are godly for the very simple reason that they dictate how humanity was meant to be lived. We are meant to feel the sensations of all beings, to be one collective, powerful spirit, to move forward and excel in this unknown magnitude of greatness.” His long memory stretched back into eras he was sure were better left forgotten, no one wanted to remember the beginning of the end, much less remember that they watch with apathy.
“Greed is the one true demon. It has touched and destroyed every civilization that has dared to exist. Divinities are no exception. One soul at a time strived to silence the ‘noise’ of the masses, to feel only what they wanted to feel when they wanted to feel. The addiction to the new, to the unknown, grew. Soul after soul left until only a few remained as one. Only, instead of Throngs being the old ways, they were now a mystery. Generations of living divided had left souls blind to the power they were made of. It left them searching for a connection they gave up freely.”
Jamison searched Reveca’s rapt stare, he knew she was waiting for one crumb of information she could use for the war she was plotting.
“While dimension after dimension found glory in idols they created, those separate but aware of their spiritual heritage, moved to realms where their power was remembered. Where souls strived to reconnect.”
“Our home, I’m aware. It was a gift, a blessing, yada, yada. Get to the fucking point. Are you telling me I need to infect November Scorpio with greed to break him from his Throng, and then destroy him? If so, then half the battle is already won, he is one of the greediest bastards I know. If he wasn’t, he would have vanished long ago, and not collected spoil after spoil with my warriors.”
“The fucking point is greed did destroy the Throngs in our realm. They were broken apart because a witch convinced them if they destroyed their own all the power inside of the Throng would fall into their soul. They would become the creators, the primordial seed.”
Primordial seed. No witch no matter how good they may claim to be could hear such words and not feel their mouth water with desire.
Reveca edged forward, curious as ever what witch had tempted the last of the Throngs. All she needed was a name, once she had it she would go to any length, barter anything, to know their secrets.
Her mind was already churning through the bloodlines of who could’ve pulled this off. Not surprisingly Zale’s was near the top, and yes, she would barter with the male. If anything, this latest act of treason by her men had given her the ability to see life from Zale’s point of view. The fool may have constantly sought power, but above all, he sought survival. Something she blatantly respected as of late.
“Nature always corrects itself,” Jamison said sharply trying to bring Reveca’s lustful thoughts back into focus. “The traitors to their kind may have found power, but it was temporary when measured by the span of time. Furthermore, the seed belongs to the last standing.”
Measured by the span of time? Reveca thought wryly, hell that could be eras, plenty of time to establish a winning plan B.
“Are you trying to tell me the treasure of the universe is sitting between Scorpio’s legs?” It was all she could do not to sneer. “That it is an actual seed?” A curt laugh left her lips. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? I could’ve directed my attentions to a more mutually satisfying direction.”
Jamison half expected King to appear and rip his female from this room after a line like that. He wasn’t that lucky. King was obviously waiting for the perfect time to strike.
“Do you believe November Scorpio loves the female that threatened your life?”
“Toril?” Reveca rolled her eyes. “I have never seen a male harder up for a female in all my years.”
“And why do you think he is so ‘hard up.’” Jamison pushed.
The sarcastic glee Reveca had been sporting started to fade when she realized once again she was waving the ignorance flag.
“They can’t touch,” she gasped.
Jamison swayed his head. “Oh trust me, they can. They can touch deeper than your wildest fantasies could ever imagine. Anywhere, anytime.”
Reveca shook her head. “He never touched her, possession is not the same. What happens if they touch? Is that the answer? Will they self-combust or some shit?” she would have laughed once more, but the ‘are you a fucking idiot’ look in Jamison’s eyes had her wheeling back through her mind looking for answers.
“If they touch, the dark gods that plotted for the destruction—bartered with a witch—will be hailed, the primordial seed will be in jeopardy, the rise of new sovereigns, the fall of evil ones will be pointless.”
Reveca eyed him suspiciously. All her coven had ever lusted after, plotted, and spoken of was this fucking fall of the dark gods. And now he was expecting her to believe that someone like November Scorpio could simply declare the war a mute point whenever he fucking felt like it? No, she wasn’t buying that bullshit.
“The state of the universe is a series of cause and effect, with nature correcting. Yes, we are one, we were meant to be aware of such. To live in a sea of vast knowledge and endless sensations. Yes, greed stopped the divine course of human life. Because it did, humans became overwhelmed by emotions, good and bad, the power of their souls were distorted. What happened? The universe corrected itself and established a governing body, a divinity of souls who would thrive on the excess vim in the emotions. Escorts, light-dark-angels, whatever you want to call them.”
Jamison stepped forward and squared his shoulders to add emphasis to his next words. “The threat of greed destroying the newest embodiment was so rich that as soon as it was established, the remaining Throngs were elevated in power. They governed and declared what was too much and what the mortals could manage. Unlike the sovereign bodies, Throngs straddled both a human life and spiritual being. Throngs were the filters, the police, the one source of protection humanity had against the inevitable.”
He stared at Reveca and waited for the pieces to fall into place in her mind. She held every card, every element of the puzzle she so desperately sought to solve in her hand. If she would ever realize that she did was anyone’s guess.
“It was the gods that tempted the Throngs to fall apart, the gods who sent a witch to tempt them.” She said picking the parts of his speech she liked, or at the very least would lead her somewhere.
“Free will sent the witch to do their bidding,” Jamison corrected.
Reveca began to
pace as she often did when she was deep in thought, or when she was on to something. Jamison held the hope it was her sanity she was chasing and not madness she came up with.
“They destroyed them all,” Reveca said to herself as her stare cast into the past, as her memories showed the temples her people revered so much falling to ruin. “Or so they thought,” her gray stare met Jamison’s in question.
One curt nod came from him.
Reveca could not hold back the sly, cold. “So the knowledge that one was overlooked would be far too interesting and tempting for a dark god to overlook.” She pursed her lips as her future was reconstructed in her mind. Not even an hour ago, she was pissed the future God of Trepidation did have reason to give her allegiance. Now, she was deeply considering the notion that sometimes the answer is not hidden in tomorrows but buried in the past.
Reveca Beauregard needed Revelin— the darkest of gods in her opinion— to leave her lover be. She needed him to spare their lives, and therefore everyone they commanded. And what do you know; a gem had fallen into her hands—a solid gift to barter with. Scorpio and his whores head for her freedom. Fuck yes, this would happen.
Hating the malicious look in Reveca’s eyes, Jamison readied his own power, preparing to put her down until said time she was sane once more. “You have contorted the history I have given you and missed the point. If the primordial seed is destroyed and there is no hope of any Throng rising and multiplying, the new sovereigns will have no governing body between their lines and the mortals. Greed and unbalance will overturn them before they ever have the chance to establish themselves.”
“Not my problem,” Reveca said as she vanished.
“Yes, it fucking is!” he roared into the room. “You will be the first to fall!”
Letting his anger precede him he too vanished. Reveca Beauregard would be handled, and quickly. This shit had gone too far. No one dared to fuck with the safety and future of Jamison Bellerose’s daughters. No. One.
***
With his arms crossed and his shoulders back Talon appeared stronger than he felt. It was the glint of hope in his eyes that made little to no sense, especially to him. He’d be damned if he could explain it but he was almost positive a dormant part of him had awoken. Where once rich emptiness and lost hope rested, something was blooming.
