by Nina Walker
Perhaps I should have followed, but something held me rooted in place, my back against the wall.
“You should have done it then,” Sabine turned on Jessa, her eyes two angry slits. “You were standing right next to him!”
“You don’t understand,” Jessa sputtered. “I tried to do this once before and I failed. It’s not that simple. He’ll kill me if I mess up again.”
“Don’t be so afraid to do your duty.”
“It’s not my duty.”
The woman slapped Jessa across the face, the sound a sharp crack. Jessa stumbled back. Hate shot through every cell in my body. Who was this woman that she thought she could touch Jessa?
Mark held up a hand, eyes drawn in understanding. “Sabine, none of that. She’ll do it; she just needs the perfect opportunity. She knows her sister will die if she doesn’t.”
My breath caught. In the corner, the blonde girl in black laughed, blue eyes shining. The same eyes as Jessa. “You think you’re going to be able to use me as leverage forever?”
Her sister. It clicked into place. Jessa had told me about all of this. Why hadn’t I believed her when I still had the chance to help?
“Shut up,” one of the alchemist guardians ground out the insult, hitting her with the butt of his rifle so hard she slumped down against the wall, head awkwardly tilting to one side.
“Don’t you touch her!” Jessa yelled, angrily charging the guy. “What did you do?”
He spun, pointing his gun at her. “Careful, Princess.”
“Don’t you dare point that at her!” Mark shot out, and the boy dropped his gun, a sheepish expression rising on his lips.
“Jessa, you need to relax,” Sabine said, touching her auburn hair gently as if a strand were out of place. “Sasha has only been knocked out. She’ll be fine.”
Untapped rage built as I watched these people treat Jessa like some kind of prisoner, like a tool to use however they saw fit. What did they have on her? Was my father part of this? I considered Sasha, a girl Jessa would do anything to protect. A sister.
“You will order the King to kill himself,” Sabine said, finger pointing at Jessa. “Next time he’s near, you will do it. It will be easy. You will scratch him and use your red or I swear we’ll kill your sister. The world would be free of one less alchemist pest, but I have a feeling she’d rather live.”
Jessa nodded, face ashen, fat tears breaking loose and streaming down her face. I ground my teeth.
“And then, as we discussed, you will get to Lucas. We’ll have to talk to Celia again, see if Lucas still deserves a place in this,” Mark continued. “But for now, let’s head outside and see what this West American weapon is all about.”
The group moved toward the exit, one Guardian gripping Jessa’s upper arm, shoving her forward. The other standing watch over Sasha, kicking at her boot. He let out a huff and reached down to haul her over his shoulder. Her arms and head flopped against his back as he strode forward.
I was still pressed against the wall. The rage that had been building came to an all-out eruption.
They were going to blackmail her to kill my father and then me? They were using my wife to take control of New Colony for themselves? Or maybe they were West American spies.
I didn’t think so.
I dove forward, tackling Mark around his middle and slamming him to the ground.
Someone screamed, but I didn’t pay that any attention as I pummeled the traitor’s face. Blood sprayed in all directions. His eyes shone full of terror, probably because I was still invisible!
Realization dawned and he fought back. He kicked out at me, arms flying. He connected with my nose and blood pooled in my mouth as his meaty fist crashed against my teeth.
The sick bastard. I would kill him.
At some point, it was not only his arms that I could see flying, but mine as well.
I had dropped the rose.
His gaze leveled with mine, first widening in surprise before transforming into mocking enjoyment.
“Oh, Lucas, have you been hiding a dirty little secret?” He cackled.
Over his shoulder, I caught the sight of the others fighting as well. The girl who’d supposedly passed out was alive and well, kicking the ever-loving crap out of the two alchemist dudes who’d been guarding her. Jessa was attacking Sabine, quick to overtake the polished woman who didn’t have magic or a gun.
“I should have done a better job the first time I tried to kill you,” Mark ground out. My gaze returned to the man pinned beneath me, confusion peaking. I reached out my fist again, ready to strike, when he slammed me back, shifting the balance of power. I fell to the ground, landing hard on my back, elbows scraping against the rough carpet. He jumped up, kicking me with his steel-toed boots. Pain overpowered the thoughts in my brain, sweeping over my body.
“Does this look familiar?” he continued.
Outside, muffled screams and bullets and chaos echoed faintly. If anyone saw what was happening in this office, they didn’t come. They couldn’t. They were too busy with whatever New Colony’s new weapon was to come inside here. I had to get myself out of this mess, but I could barely push past the agony as Mark pummeled me again and again.
I blinked up at the man, seeing red. Something flashed through my mind, taking in his words. Does this look familiar? It did. Was it a memory? Déjà vu?
I had been in this position before.
My brain sent flashes of images, electric pulses of memory. The night he’d tried to kill me overtook my vision. I saw it all. The look on Jessa’s face when I’d told her we had to get her out of the palace. The same look when I’d said goodbye to her at the safe house and when she’d dropped my mother’s ring back into my shaking hand. My deep sadness as I’d wandered around the palace that night. Mark hiding out in that darkened nursery. His rage when he realized it was me who found him, me who’d shamed his family, his name. And the way he’d ruthlessly attacked me, had so clearly tried to kill me.
“It was you,” I coughed, copper filling my mouth. My arms and legs didn’t seem to know how to fight back anymore. They lay useless at my sides, paralyzed by pain. I was succumbing to the agony. It covered me like a thick blanket.
“It was, and it has been,” Mark continued. “We’ve been trying to get rid of your nasty family for months now.”
Another boot connected with my face.
“Your mother’s funeral.”
A crack broke my rib.
“The jet explosion.”
Something crushed against my skull.
Fight back.
I willed every ounce of strength I had, wanting to live. I couldn’t give up now. I couldn’t let him win.
“You should have married my Celia,” he continued.
He jumped on top of me, blood dripping as he leered close to my face. My eyes were so swollen that he blurred above me.
“This time I’m going to finish the job.”
And I believed him.
More memories flashed through my mind. Meeting Jessa, the way she’d hated me at first, the way she’d used alchemy on me by accident with the fire. Sharing a meal with her out on the grass, a picnic under the stars. How much I had wanted to kiss her, despite my better judgment. And the moment I had finally kissed her, how amazing she had felt wrapped up in my arms. And then that helicopter had come, spinning the wind around us, pulling us apart.
And Sasha. Her sister.
The Resistance and everything that had happened with them.
I squinted up, trying to focus on something else. Jessa’s sister, Sasha, was finishing off her fight with the blonde guy. He collapsed and she turned, staring down at me with wide eyes.
“Sasha!” I called, my voice sounding gargled and far away. “Help Jessa.”
She darted forward, gripping at Mark’s shoulders with a shrill war-cry.
Jessa appeared, on the other side of Mark, also screaming.
“No,” I tried to tell her, but the word was swallowed by blood. I
didn’t want her in this fight, he was crazy. And she, she was everything…
Out of everything I remembered, what came through with absolute clarity was how many times I’d failed Jessa. I’d hurt her, the one I loved most. I couldn’t do it again. I would die if it meant she could be free of the destruction I always seemed to bring down on her world.
Mark’s rage burned down on me as he hit me one last time.
The two sisters wrenched him back and connected with the blood that coated Mark. He screamed in retaliation. But he had no chance.
The blood between us faded to gray.
Hope surged.
And then my consciousness fell, lost to the gray, faded to black, before I could even catch my breath.
18
Jessa
Fury poured through me, white hot and cutting. My vision blurred and narrowed in on Mark Addington’s body. I pulled and pulled at his blood, draining the color, leaching it until it was nothing but a mess of lifeless gray liquid. Too angry to direct the red magic to go anywhere or do anything productive, it swirled around Sasha and myself in a tornado of unused energy. She didn’t care. Her hands also pushed against Mark. Her anger was just as thick.
I blinked at her, realizing the truth. My sister had my same power. She was doing this, too. We smiled at each other. We couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. The masses of gray blood were our salvation. We knew what it meant. Death. The power of it thundered through us, strengthening our bond, and building the magic of the moment into a frenzied, lustful, never-ending storm.
“No!” Sabine screamed. I turned the magic on her, reaching out a second hand to snatch her bloodied arm.
“Go!” I commanded. “Don’t tell anyone we’re here. Get away from us!”
She ran.
I turned back to the horrible man at my feet. He deserved it. More than anyone, it was Mark I wanted to hurt. And I was almost there. If I went on longer, he would die and that would be justice. His body would become nothing but a dead mass lying on top of Lucas.
Lucas…
I stopped. I didn't want to be a murderer, no matter how much Mark deserved to die. That wasn’t who I was. That wasn’t why I was doing this. And Lucas was the one who needed attention right now, not Mark.
I lifted my hands and sat back. My eyes connected with my sister as she did the same. “I didn’t know you could do that, too,” I said lamely.
“I never wanted you to know.” She shook her head, sadness seeping over her deflated body. “I never want anyone to know. I put that kind of magic behind me a long time ago.”
I nodded. “I get it. If I could wish it away, I would.”
We were alone in the office with all of these injured men, two powerful girls who wanted nothing more than normalcy. Sasha crawled over to the two passed-out Guardians. She touched their bloodied forms, whispering for them to sleep, to sleep until tomorrow, to dream of nothing but darkness.
Outside, the battle continued.
I frowned down at Lucas, mind finally cleared enough to help him. He was passed out, but once I healed him, I was sure he’d be fine. He had to be fine. My heart couldn’t bear it otherwise. Wrenching Mark’s huge body out of the way, I kneeled before my prince, ready to assess the wounds. My breath caught.
Wait–No…
Lucas was white as a sheet, unblinking eyes lifeless. He didn’t move. Not even his chest rose or fell. Panic swept through me as I ran my hands over his body. The once vibrant blood that had covered his face was now completely gray, dripping off him in streams of iron.
I shook him, gently at first. “Lucas?”
He didn’t respond.
I shook him harder, tears springing to my eyes. “Lucas, are you okay? Wake up!”
“Lucas, please!” My voice came out cracked and hoarse. I found Sasha’s gaze. She would know what to do. But she sputtered, horror struck.
“We took too much,” she whispered, a lone tear rolling down her cheek.
“No.” I frowned. “No. We were using it on Mark, not Lucas.”
Sasha’s eyes mirrored back at me, brimming with pity. “It was an accident,” she said, voice even. “You have to remember that this was an accident, Jessa. We would have never done this on purpose.”
“What are you even talking about?” I growled. I looked away and leaned over Lucas, shaking him once again. But he was gone.
No…
What happened? We’d gone after Mark. It was never supposed to be Lucas. I looked around horrified, everything sinking in as I realized that both of their blood had been all over each other. When we’d stepped in to stop Mark, we must have somehow also pulled alchemy from Lucas.
Lucas, who had already lost so much blood.
Lucas, who’d been on the edge of death.
No!
“He’s dead,” my sister confirmed. “They both are. I’m so sorry.”
I screamed, a high-pitched eruption that transformed into a guttural moan.
“Go find some green,” I begged. “Please.”
She didn’t question me, didn’t tell me it was too late. She sprinted to the desk behind us, fumbling with the mess sprawled across it, papers falling to the floor.
“Here!” She tossed a small bamboo shoot growing out of a little yellow pot. I caught it, staring down dumbly at the sparkly trinket wrapped around the green shoot: a tiny golden elephant.
Refocusing, I grappled at the green, shooting the magic through Lucas.
Nothing
This couldn’t be happening!
Sasha stood above me, her body trembling. “This is why I never wanted to do it again,” her voice croaked. “This was why I ran in the first place. I never should’ve done it again. I knew better.” Her head dropped into her hands. “I am so sorry.”
I couldn’t deal with her. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t believe it.
I pulled Lucas’s head to me and tenderly laid it into my lap, brushing the strands of dark hair out of his face. We’d been through so much together. Had it really come to this? Had I just murdered my own husband?
I’d been so afraid he was turning into his father but it was me who’d been overcome with power. I was the one who’d used my magic to kill, the one who’d relished in the feel of it. If anyone was like King Richard, it was me. I was nothing but a destructive force of nature.
My mouth fell open in a silent scream and hot tears rolled down my cheeks, the salt sinking into the corners around my mouth. I gasped, my heart ripping out of my chest, this day sinking in deep.
I’d been so worried about Lucas, and yet, I’d turned away from him. I’d been so frustrated with his memory loss, so annoyed, when none of that was even his fault. He didn’t choose that. Mark had done it to him!
And in the middle of what had happened over the last few weeks, I’d forgotten just how much I loved him.
But I did. I loved him.
I knew it the moment we’d first kissed. I knew it again when that farmer told me Lucas’s death had been announced. But here I was, with him lying before me, really dead this time, and the pain was more unbearable than anything I’d ever experienced before. It was too much.
And it wasn’t enough.
“We have to get out of here,” Sasha said. “There’s something going on outside. I think West America’s gaining ground right now. We need to take this chance while we can.”
I was numb. I couldn’t move, could barely hear Sasha.
“Come on, Jessa,” Sasha pressed. “We need to go.”
“No,” I snapped. I wasn't giving up on Lucas; there had to be a way. This couldn’t be over. This couldn’t be the end. I couldn’t accept that.
“You need to come.” She reached out, tugging on my arm.
I slapped her away, my voice turning dark. “I said no. Leave me alone.”
More gunshots ricocheted outside. An even louder bang shook the floor. Or maybe that was just my body shaking?
She groaned. “I’ll be back.” Then she ran for the door. I didn’t wa
tch to see where she went after that. I didn’t care.
I took in the room, blinking.
Dazed.
Mystified.
Mark was dead. Sabine was long gone. The two alchemists were still asleep. But it was Lucas who needed me. I couldn’t leave him.
I brushed his swollen face with the back of my hand, my tears still falling in droves. One dropped and landed on his forehead, splashing and then rolling off the side. Another fell and hit his eyelid. If I squinted, I could almost believe it was his tear.
No, there has to be another way. I can’t give up. I just need more color.
Even as the thoughts came into my head, I knew they were foolish. I didn’t care about that, either.
Carefully placing his head on the floor, I pried myself off the floor and looked around the office. Anything, any color would have to do. I would try it all, push everything into him and maybe something would work.
I grabbed a flag first from where it was tacked to the wall: red, white and blue. I pulled over a chair, an ugly burnt orange color. I grabbed a blue book off of the desk, tugged at the purple sweater left on the back of the desk’s rolling chair.
I gathered the items around me and unleashed the colors. The magic came from synthetic materials so they were mostly weak, but I no longer cared. I had to try. It was all I had left.
And I was determined, more determined than I'd ever been in my life.
The color swirled, a weaving, dancing, pulsing messy rainbow. What color would possibly help him now? I had no idea, but I pushed them, one by one, at Lucas.
Nothing took.
Frustration left me gasping, the tears falling again. But I was not ready to give up. I kept going. And kept failing.
I doubled over, gathering the scratchy purple sweater into my hands and burying my face in it, sobbing.
“Please don’t leave me, Lucas,” I begged. I inched my hand away from the sweater and grabbed at him, shook him. “Please don’t leave me here alone. I can’t do this by myself. I need you.”
The color from the purple sweater swirled in the air, a physical representation of the passion currently roiling inside me. I knew what I wanted in this life and it was him. As much as I’d always loved to dance, as much as I’d always loved my family, as much as I had loved anything, I loved Lucas.
