The guy was now writhing fitfully, his back and arms and legs bucking forward, banging into the legs of the chair beside him.
“Chi, he has minutes. If that. We either get out of here now and condemn him, or you use your abilities to figure out which of those symbols will disengage that bomb.”
I could hear it in his voice. I could feel it beneath his grip. I could see it in his eyes.
This wasn’t Max. This was that asshole from the past.
“Chi, he’s running out of time. Use your powers, or condemn him.”
My heart was thundering in my chest, and though Max’s grip was only on my arm, it felt like it had shifted up to my throat.
The terror of what I’d faced with the faceless assassin spun through my mind. My inability to control myself, to stop myself. If I gave myself up to another vision, it would happen again. And who knows, this time there may be no stopping it.
“Chi, that man will die,” Max said, voice ringing with such finality it sounded as if he were tolling a bell.
As my cheeks slackened, as true dread welled in my heart, I realized what I had to do.
Max spoke of the curse that locked us McLane seers in place. Well, I was starting to realize this was the true curse – losing yourself to the future. But what choice did I have?
What choice did I have?
Without a word, I silently closed my eyes. I concentrated. It wasn’t hard. The fireflies had never flit far from my vision. They were right there, waiting for me, beckoning me to give myself up to them.
Gritting my teeth, driving my eyes closed until I could feel tears collect beneath my eyelashes, I gave in to the vision.
I saw myself jerking out of Max’s grasp, saw myself stalking over to the man. I grabbed him by the collar and roughly pulled him up. But rather than proceed to cram my fist against his face, I shoved my hand forward, pausing until I selected a single spinning symbol that was lodged just above his left wrist. I stabbed my hand against it, clutched it as if I were catching a bird on the wing, and I twisted.
As I saw the vision manifest in my mind, I felt myself move. There was no way I could stop it, nothing I could do but watch as I followed the sparking fireflies and everything they foretold until I lurched down to my knees, yanked the guy up by the collar, and selected that same symbol just above his left wrist.
I heard something clicking and then a great distant whirring like an old machine being switched off.
A second later, the hum of the furnaces from downstairs cutout. At the same time, so too did the symbols writhing across the man’s flesh. They blinked out like stars in the night sky giving way to morning.
Unceremoniously, I dropped the man and jerked back.
Then I fought with all my might. With all my might. I tried to push back the fireflies, tried to escape their vision, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t.
I felt Max shift around me. Out of the corner of my vision – though most of my field of view was nothing more than a sparking mess – I saw him shoot a cursory glance towards the man. Then Max shifted up by my side. “Chi?” he asked, voice wavering with confusion as he reached a hand toward me. The hand, however, never reached me. A sudden wave of tension slammed against Max, stopping him in place. As it did, I swore the shadow took hold.
My eyes widened as I stared from Max to the shadow, willing Max to break through.
But break through he could not. I watched as his lips split open. “That’s it,” he said in a strange, shaking tone as if his voice were coming down a long tunnel and not a throat. “Give into that power. We still need it. Tell me what will happen next?” There was an odd, singsong quality to his voice, one that didn’t match the pure horror reflecting over the real Max’s face.
I begged my body to react, fought with the fireflies holding me in place.
No, please, I repeated in my mind. Please!
Max continued to stand there as stiff as one of the steel beams discarded on the factory floor below. But no matter how hard he fought, it was clear he could not break through of the power which held him in place.
It would be up to me.
Earlier, it had been Max’s sudden interruption that had pulled me from the reverie of the vision. But there had to be some other way. My grandmother had apparently used her powers her whole life, so she must have found some way to balance them with their costs.
Then again, I doubted grandma had been forced to contend with Max’s shadow.
I wasn’t one for stamina, never had been. You wouldn’t catch me running a marathon. When it came to battles, I preferred to be canny, to do my research, and, most importantly, to leave the actual fighting to someone else. But now there was no one else. I was Max’s only hope, not to mention my own, too. So I freaking concentrated with everything I had. I drew up every ounce of magical knowledge I had. Because there had to be away.
And I would find one.
A funny thing happened. The more I concentrated on using the last of my strength to find a way free from those fireflies, the more they seemed to dim.
I wasn’t fighting them with any specific weapon – just the desire to be free, to make my own future, even if it was a complete mess.
And slowly, agonizingly slowly, that was all it took. One by one the fireflies started to dim, and the swarm of visions vying for my attention dimmed with them until I broke free.
It felt like being released from a cannon. I fell forward and slammed right into Max, knocking him backward.
He didn’t have time to right himself, and he fell to the floor. I banged against his chest, practically head-butting it.
And then I froze. It wasn’t at the prospect I was in Max’s arms again. No. I waited to find out exactly which Max I’d fallen against.
I kept my eyes on his shadow until he moved. It took a painfully long time until he reached up and wrapped one arm around my back then the other. In a shaking voice, he asked, “Chi?”
I listened to his tone – his breath, watched the tension in his jaw, and stared at his shadow.
“Chi? What happened?”
It was Max, thank God.
Though it was probably inappropriate, I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned forward and rested my head on Max’s chest. “I’m glad you’re back,” I said softly.
“Back? Where did I go? I… I can’t remember,” he answered. Most of the time Max tried to shelter me from his memory loss. Now he was open about it as he stared unblinkingly into my gaze. “I have no idea what just happened.”
That made two of us. Though I didn’t say that out loud. Instead, I finally pushed off Max’s chest and stood. He followed, his expression ashen as he brought a hand up and ran it over the back of his hair.
I watched him, but all hint of the shadow’s control was gone.
Max turned to me. “What happened?” he asked again, and this time, there was a definite desperation behind his words.
I watched Max, and as I did, I used all my years of training. Sure, on the face of it, I’d been nothing more than a lying little fortuneteller, but I’d learned to read people, and now I read Max.
There was every possibility that he was lying to me. That he’d always been lying to me. Maybe he’d never known my grandmother. Heck, maybe he’d been the one to kill her. Or maybe my heart had always been right, and my future lay in getting to the bottom of this mystery, saving Max, and saving myself at the same time.
Never taking my eyes off him, I nodded towards the crumpled man on the floor. “You remember what happened? Do you remember asking me to use my powers to save that guy?”
Max shook his head. There was something so raw about his response, something that couldn’t be faked. There were few things in life I was genuinely good at, but this was one of them.
I could read people, and Max wasn’t lying.
I offered him the softest, most gentle of smiles. “Do you even remember coming here to save me?”
With that same hand plastered against his head, it was clear Max battled with his
memories. But all too soon, he gave a somber shrug.
I took a deep breath. “Well, you did come here and save me,” I said, offering him the heavily redacted Cliff notes version where I specifically failed to mention the bit about his evil shadow.
Though his cheeks were still ashen and his eyes still haunted from memory loss, he managed to smile, and excuse me if it wasn’t the most engaging smile I’d ever experienced. Sure, I’d seen cuter, I’d seen brighter – but I’d never felt anything more compelling.
You know the kind of smile that can bypass the rational side of your mind and go straight to your heart, warming it up and making it sing?
But, smile aside, I couldn’t ignore what had just happened.
I faced Max as I tried to think of what to do next.
There could now be no doubt what my magic cost me. Nor could there be any doubt that the shadow was trying to get me to use my magic at any opportunity he got.
Briefly, I wondered whether I should call Bridgette. But would the shadow let me?
It honestly had some kind of control over Max. It appeared to be constantly watching me, too. So who knew what would happen if I went against it?
If it had nearly as much strength as the Max from the past, then it had more than enough magic to overcome me.
… So there was only one option, right?
Play things carefully.
Plus, I couldn’t leave him, could I?
Just the thought of leaving Max like this made my stomach turn. Which was mad. Suicide, even. I now had all the evidence I needed that Max had been lying to me. You think that would quash whatever I felt for him. Well, you’d be wrong. Instead, it simply ignited it further as if my affection for him had been a slowly burning fire that had suddenly taken hold into a firestorm.
Christ, once upon a time, I’d thought I was a sensible girl. Now look at me?
I reached out a hand to Max, kind of acting on instinct.
I was a little surprised when he took it, wrapping his stiff, strong, rough fingers around mine.
I took several seconds to enjoy the feel of his proximity, then I took a stiff breath and returned my attention to the guy conked out on the floor.
Frowning, I realized I recognized him. Now he wasn’t covered in wriggling magical symbols, I appreciated I’d seen him before. At one of Sarah’s séances, to be exact.
Max must’ve come to the same realization, because I watched his eyebrows descend with a click. “That’s one of Sarah’s witches,” he said, voice an angry rumble.
A sickening feeling twisted through the pit of my stomach, and I managed to nod. “What do we do now? Is he… is he going to be okay?”
Max shifted away from me, broke my grip, got down on one knee, and appeared to intently inspect the man. After several seconds, he nodded his head and pushed back up. “He needs magical care, pronto, but he’ll be fine. Speaking of which,” Max shifted his gaze down my body and locked it on my blood-soaked pants, “you also need help.”
Immediately, I brought my hands up and spread them wide. “I’ve already told you – I don’t want you using your magic to heal me. I’ll be fine,” I said, switching the weight from my bad leg, reaching out a hand, and locking it over the chair to my side for support.
What with one thing and another, I’d kind of forgotten I was injured. Now the pain slammed back into my mind, and I had to clench my teeth to fight past it.
Though Max pressed his lips together and shot me a disappointed look, he didn’t push the point.
Before we could dwindle back into silence, I grated my teeth together. “What exactly happens now? And why did that faceless assassin attach a timed charge, or whatever you called it, to this witch? It’s the Lonely King, isn’t it? I don’t get it, why does he have to kill at exactly the same time every day?”
Max’s expression ran the gamut from confused to mildly proud. “So you figured that out, then?”
“What?” I frowned. “The bit about the Lonely King? You told me –”
He shook his head. “No. The likely reason that faceless assassin attached this time charge was to ensure his victim died at exactly the right moment while he fought you.”
I ran my bottom lip through my teeth. “I don’t get it – why does he need to kill with such regularity?”
Max tapped a finger on his jaw. His confusion was beginning to wane. Or maybe he was so damned used to losing his memory so often that he was practiced at getting back on with things. “It’s something I’ve thought about, and to be honest, I don’t like any of the possibilities.”
Again, my stomach sank. Any more of this, and it would probably lurch out of my torso, fall onto the floor, and leave me dead, dead, dead.
“It’s most likely a time spell.”
“Time spell?” I made a face, hoping it didn’t advertise my ignorance like a neon sign.
He offered a short nod. “Powerful spells require sacrifices. And the more powerful the spell, the more sacrifices you require. Earth spells tend to require a lot of dirt. Water spells a lot of water. And time spells, a lot of time.”
I shook my head like a confused cat. “Sorry, you’ve lost me there. A lot of time? A time spell?” My voice became progressively louder as I started to realize what he was saying. “You aren’t… you’re talking about time travel, aren’t you?”
He stared right at me and nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s possible?” My voice shot up like a kazoo. An angry one.
Max shrugged. “Technically. But you need a lot of magic – a hell of a lot of magic to pull something like that off.”
I simply stared at him, mouth agape.
Why did it feel that every single minute I was learning some new horror about magic? Why did it feel like I was always running but could never catch up?
Max checked on the downed witch once more before returning his attention to me. “By gathering the hearts of specific witches at specific times of day, the Lonely King is gathering some seriously strong sacrifices for his spell. By timing it right – by murdering them down to the minute, he’s offering time all the power it will require to change.”
I made a face. “That doesn’t make any sense. Time changes all the time,” I stuttered, hoping I didn’t sound like a complete idiot. “But it can’t go backward. That’s just stupid. It defies the laws of physics.” My babble was incoherent, but I hoped the sheer passion behind my voice was enough.
Max just shrugged. “Magic is the most powerful force in the universe. Who cares about physics? All that matters is that, yes, you can travel back in time. But like I said, it’s costly. And if I am any guess, that’s exactly what the Lonely King is doing. And we have to stop him.” Max’s voice rumbled down low.
My mouth was open, my fight rapidly leaving me. There was only so much naysaying I could do until I gave in.
“So… so what do we do? How the hell do we stop him? Do we call the police? Do we mobilize the coven?” With every new sentence, my breath became shorter and shorter until I gasped like a drowning woman.
“We figure out when the next murder will happen, and we stop it. We keep getting in the Lonely King’s way.”
“… But why don’t we just attack him directly? Why don’t we try to take him down?”
Max’s jaw stiffened, and he shifted it from side-to-side. I could hear it clicking with tension. “Because that would likely get you killed, Chi. Not sure if you have forgotten, but Fagan was after you to get your heart for the Lonely King.”
“I haven’t forgotten. But I don’t exactly see how hiding in the dark will save me. Fagan may be dead, but I doubt the Lonely King has forgotten about me. So what do we do? Can’t we go up against him directly? It seems like the only way to stop him. I imagine he has a plethora of bad guys like Fagan at his disposal – and who knows how many faceless assassins he has. The only way to end this is to end him.” I sounded ridiculously passionate for a woman who’d just heard that time travel was possible, whose leg was badly injured, and who
now had to contend with the fact her magic cost her her future.
But there we go, nothing can hold Chi McLane down.
The tiniest smile spread across Max’s lips, but it didn’t shift towards his eyes. He shook his head with some finality. “No. It’s too dangerous to go after the Lonely King.”
Dangerous, ha?
Was that Max speaking, or the shadow?
It seemed obvious the shadow was content to put me into situations that forced me to use my magic. So why was this different? Was the Lonely King possibly a force even the shadow couldn’t fight?
These thoughts happened quickly, and as I hid my expression from Max, I returned my attention to the crumpled witch. “Well, at the very least, we have to get him back to the coven.”
“And we need to get you some medical attention,” Max reminded me.
“Sure,” I agreed offhand as I leaned down to the ground. I had to guide myself, gripping onto the chair so my injured leg didn’t buckle beneath me. Warily, I reached out a hand and touched it against the witch’s shoulder. I didn’t honestly expect him to move – he looked as if he would be out for hours.
The guy moved, though. He gasped, in fact. He jolted forward, pushing into me and knocking me backward.
Instantly, Max was by my side, looping an arm around me and pulling me back.
The guy didn’t attack. He simply sat there, one hand locked on his heaving chest as he used the other to methodically check his body for injuries. At first, his eyes were so wide I swore they would fall from his skull. But as the seconds passed, and he clearly confirmed to himself that he was alive, he took a steadying breath. He appeared to realize that both Max and I were in the room with him. He frowned as he looked at me. “You’re the seer, aren’t you? Did you… did you save me?”
I managed a nod.
“Thank God.” The guy let out another rattling sigh. “There was nothing I could do against that bastard.”
The witch appeared to survey the room, a frown inching down his lips. “Where’s the assassin, anyway?”
A Lying Witch Book Three Page 5
