by Jamie Magee
Shade went to pull Gwinn to the doors; he was getting the hell out of dodge and taking her with him. At least he was until she planted her feet and refused to move.
“Let’s go,” he bit out.
“If we leave can we come again?” she asked Bastion.
“You’re asking me?” he glanced at his mom.
Evanthe could still be seen, but since the door opened she’d begun to fade, the six sons with her had all moved from it and were in the threshold that leads to the rest of the palace looking stronger than ever. To answer Evanthe had to follow them, then turn and speak. “I can not answer for Neptune. It is your home,” she said to Shade. “It is also an asset you would not let linger for too long in any place it could be found. Open to the mortal world is such a place.”
“We can’t go,” Gwinn said. “All the answers are here. What is to come, what has happened, where Akan’s and Zale’s ploys are, we can see them from here. Out there we fight blind, in here we guide the war—we guide the Rapture.”
Shade pointed to the approaching bikes in the distance. “Do you see those bikes, do know what that means? Do you realize they have never needed me more than they need me now?”
“Yes,” Gwinn said quickly. “That is why you have to stay here. This is how you help.”
“It is bad form not to show respect.”
“We will all show respect,” Evanthe said. “This is not a prison. It has rules. Rules that are hard to trust from a mortal vantage point, but they are sound. I will not sway you, for you never once swayed a choice of mine. This is your home. These are the boys you trained. You knew something was coming. It’s here.”
Shade glanced to Thrash who was counting the bikes, taking in the faces of the men he loved. Men he had watched die, then raise from the dead. Lifetimes of pain and joy.
“What are you going to do?” Shade asked him.
For Thrash, the choice was richer. Outside these walls, he was a simple man with a simple job doing his best to raise a wolf witch. Inside he was a mate, father to seven. In the end, it was Bastion that swayed his choice. Of all his sons, Bastion had the least combat training. He was the seventh; a son Zale and all his minions would come after.
“I have no choice,” Thrash said as he bowed his head then made his way to the path that lead to his family. He only paused to wait for Bastion to walk before him.
“We have to stay,” Gwinn said again. “No fool leaves this many answers behind. Talon would kick your ass if he knew you let his opportunity go by.”
Shade knew what she was saying was true, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Change was terrifying. A careful nod was his only answer as he pulled her to him and watched the Boneyard in the distance.
~~~~~
Dust had watched and paced by the spell from start to end, nearly lost his shit when Toril hit the ground, then again as he watched the body he was staring at glow and become more powerful.
When her eyes finally drifted open, he took the breath he had denied himself for so long. Watching Scorpio pull her to him then rise with the grace of power felt like a dream, a win yearned for but never expected.
“Is it grim?” he asked Scorpio.
Scorpio wanted to say no, he wanted to look Dust in the eye and tell him that everyone was a winner, but he was never a sound liar when it came to him. “It would be best to give distance for just now.”
“What about our chapter? Will they come after them?”
“No,” Toril said quietly. “Talon may not understand, but he is of sound mind. There will be no more civil fights among the Sons. Now is a time for unity.”
Dust took another deep breath knowing unity could be spoken of, but hard to live by under the storm of change. Nothing but change was on the horizon. His thoughts started to pull him deep inside, before they stole him away, Scorpio and Toril pulled him in. As a family, they embraced. They gave thanks for the tomorrows taken, and then returned.
~~~~~
Riding out with his men was a task Talon could not handle. His emotions were the larger reason for his pause. He knew in times like this you must choose what you say carefully for it would never be forgotten. Perception, mortal world perception, was another reason for his pause.
His men were slowly riding home. They did have flags flying, but for who had been left unsaid. The immortal Sons could not be fooled by a fast switch. They knew their Reveca was gone, and they knew before she left Saige had been claimed by Talon. The world didn’t.
It would be far easier for Saige to vanish than Reveca to vanish from the public eye. Easy for Saige to stand at Talon’s side as they took control of their town and braced for immortal wars they had yet to understand. In some ways, at least it would be easy. In even more ways, it would be hard.
Until Talon could think clearly, until he found the courage to ask Saige to join him in his life he was going to lie right there, in Scorpio’s home, with Saige in his arms as they both reflected over a night they wanted to forget but knew they never would.
~~~~
Windsome’s entire fucking day had been wasted in the dark angel’s lair. She kept turning over what she said to King what her daughter said. Not a lick of it Windsome liked. She liked it even less as she watched Reveca’s body float in the room like some crowned jewel.
The moment King had vanished to stand at Reveca’s side through her judgment, King’s minions started to show up. It was custom to see more of them. Clearly, King had just named a new First. Gossip, gossip. No matter how a far away or undercover the dark angels were, they had to come home and take a peek.
They took more than a peek. There were so many of them that they all could not fit in a massive mountain. They were all over the lands Windsome had roamed as a girl.
Sven could not take his eyes off Windsome, which she found both flattering and annoying. “I know nothing, boy toy. Look away before I’m forced to make good use of you.” She huffed. “No one needs to rattle my ex soon to be again’s cage. Not yet at least.”
“She’s pulling from us. Nearly all of us are here now.”
“That’s the excuse of the masses? Come home to give her a thimble of vim, not to see why you are large and in charge or why she needs it in the first place?”
“It is our nature.”
Windsome sneered. “No, it is your nature to fuck until you drown in exaltation. Quite good at from what I’ve heard,” she said eyeing him again.
“Not this Faction.”
“Oh, I heard it about this Faction, from several different points.”
Sven grunted. “Not anymore. Quit distracting me. Why is she pulling?”
“Are you serious? What would you do if you were drowning? Wave to those on shore as you went under? Or fight.”
“Then send us where they are so we can fight with her.”
“Greedy with your vim, are you? You can’t go there.”
“Why not?”
“Well, as you know, I’m a witch, we dig balance. I can’t fathom the amount of balance I would have to come up with to answer for slaying a Faction, much less the power.”
“Send a few of us, then.”
“One of you would overdraft my karma bank.”
“Helping us would hurt you?”
“It would be if it meant jacking up evolution. Look, sunshine, I know it’s different for you. You don’t die, not really. At the very least you have been there and done that saw the white light bought the t-shirt. Me too! People like Reveca haven’t. They stuck their toe in then ran backward grabbing all the extra tricks and toys of death they could then declared I’m immortal! But you see, they did not buy the t-shirt. Everyone has to buy the t-shirt at some point. It’s evolution. Out with the old, in with the new. That way it’s never a bore, never as cool as the dead, sure, but never a bore if you just let that whole ashes to ashes thing play out.”
“You find this humorous?” Sven accused growing rigid with anger.
“No, I’m quite ticked actually. I always planned t
o be on the front row. Not backstage. This sucks, I get the aggression you have, truly.”
Sven drew in a harsh breath, Windsome had seen him do this before. It was his warning that he was about to embark on a long rant and to go ahead and zone out. Which Windsome would have gladly done if Monroe had not crept closer to the bed.
A drop of blood hit the white sheets, then another.
“Won’t be long now.”
“What do you mean,” Sven demanded.
“She remembers she’s dead. All down hill from now on. Souls tend to get mushy once they figure out the game is over.”
The blood began to rain down so fast that it sounded like a storm. Just as this development became old news, all the dark angel’s about began to sway, and then they fell to their knees.
Windsome smirked, typical. Reveca was bold enough to swallow the ocean before she ever let it drown her.
King was back now, but he wasn’t. Stuck between here and there he held Reveca’s body as it fell into the pool of blood. His glare at the world around him assured Windsome she had missed the show of a lifetime. She’d always wondered how Reveca would bow out, raving mad or like a blameless child wanting one more chance, the former was predictable which meant the latter had prob taken the cake. Figures.
“And here we...go,” Windsome said as the wave of vim was returned to the angels around her, and King became more visible. The more visible he was, the more shy Reveca was. In a matter of seconds, her ashes were swirling around, flying all dainty like over the masses then out to the land she was born in.
Clap, clap, clap. The sound slowly came from Windsome as she watched King kneel coated in the blood of a female only he could understand at every level. Windsome gave a quick nod to Monroe, who swayed her hand across the room taking the blood and its sense bending smell away, for good measure she cleaned King up to.
Windsome rather wished she hadn’t. His foul expression didn’t match the white he was now surrounded in. If this were the veil a thought from her would’ve changed the room around, life was art, and Windsome loved jacking with it, new age blow your mind art was her gig.
King was not fond of her clap. One second he was artistic and yes a bit yummy as he knelt by an empty bed, the next he was breathing down Windsome’s neck like she was the one who delivered the final blow. Please.
“Personal space,” she said backing up which only landed her against Sven, nice but not at this particular moment she was stuck in.
“Take me to her,” King demanded.
“Me? You have grossly overestimated my abilities.”
“No more games, witch,” King seethed.
“Like you are not a witch, like it is a bad thing!”
“Windsome, you are in reach, you will answer for all of your coven,” King said so low and cold that Windsome felt her soul prickle. “Take me to her, or be another martyr for them.”
Windsome drew her tiny shoulders back and glared up at King. “You have a long way to go.”
“I’m not worried about how long it takes.”
Windsome rolled her eyes. “How dramatic of you, come Monroe. This is no longer our party.”
“You’re not leaving,” King said. When the lights dimmed, he smirked darkly. “Monroe is free to go.”
The ground shook as a powerful force clearly let its objection be known.
Windsome grinned. “They didn’t let just anyone carry their daughter into life.” She sighed as she pulled Monroe against her. “I do like you King, always have. I meant what I said. You have a long way to go. You have lingered in the mortal world too long. You think like them. You put yourself in a prison then cry like an infant as you accuse others of placing you there.” She tilted her head. “It will take time, eras for all I know, but you need to break away from this small-minded approach you have to the qualms about.”
Windsome glanced over the dark angels towering over her. “As I said, you think more and less of me than you should and often. I am a powerful witch, but I can not wade through the sea of this power when you are pushing with all your newly ordained power in the opposite direction.”
Windsome jumped in place, held herself in mid-air, waved like a mad woman, blew air kisses, then let herself fall, then vanished with her daughter. At once each of those turned with King to see Reveca standing on the platform in the center of her kingdom.
Every mortal aspect of her was gone. Like the dark angel’s around her she held a human form, but not one flaw could be seen, there was a rich glow, the kind of glow she’d only hold on to now and again once King’s power filled her soul, pouring from her. So bright and calm that everyone but King himself bowed to her grace.
Once he found his breath King appeared at her side. For as beautiful and calm as she may have seen at a distance, King could see the confusion in her gray eyes. “She spoke to me,” Reveca whispered. “She told me she needed a life and I did not. She told me it was my time to ascend... then she showed me.”
King had Reveca flush against his body checking with every sway of his hand that she was whole, better than whole—she was a deity.
“She showed me how our fight was predestined...she said the anger was a gift, a tool to guide us to a point where we had no choice but to chose the impossible.” Reveca searched King’s eyes. “I couldn’t let her die. I was too scared to rise, but I could not let her die.”
His hands cradled her face. “You did right, love. You are eternal with me...this is our world.”
King’s lips landed on hers, and the world around them cheered in victory. They both knew it was a silent victory, that what lay ahead would bend them in every way...they’d be damned if they let it break them.
Acknowledgements
I have long ago recognized one of my many flaws and gifts is that I cannot pretend to like someone I do not. Some might take this action of mine as honesty, others could see it as willfulness that shields me from ever seeing past my current judgment, no matter how right or wrong it may be. I believe it is both and that my standpoint may have taken people out of my path that I would’ve enjoyed being there in the long run. It was entertaining to open this floodgate with Scorpio. To see how he found a family in the mist of an enemy. Where this will lead him could be any number of places that I refuse to spoil for any of you!
Over the past four years, I have published over twenty novels and each of the acknowledgments are moved from one novel to the next. That wasn’t done to take short cuts, but because on this journey I have been blessed enough to keep the same souls at my side. I wanted to take the time with this acknowledgment to state how precious they are to me.
My Creator, for I know this gift and passion for words comes from a divine force that I humbly adore and owe everything to.
My husband, no doubt, deserves some kind of medal! The man is there from the first instant the idea is thought to life, through the long days of writing where I slip into another world. He manages the blessed life we have built, taking care of our little ones, making sure that there is some kind of substantial meal on the table for each of us. He’s a saint when it comes to telling me what day of the week it is, and letting me know that dawn is approaching, and it might be a good idea to get some sleep. He understands that music drives me and is just fine with the same song playing on repeat for days until I have the scene trapped in words. He’s used to having a conversation with me and in mid-sentence, I stop and rush to write a line down. There is no doubt that he didn’t sign up to share his wife with the fictional family that always dances in my mind, but he rocks it all the same. I can’t tell you how amazing it is to have someone want your dreams as much as you do, someone that never lets doubt creep into your mindset.
My children, they make me smile every day. They are now to the point where they’re all for naming characters, dancing to that same song that plays over and over. They love to joke about ‘mom’s bubble’—they know that mom dreams wide awake and tease me when they have to pop that bubble to tell me something.
Special thanks to Amy Donnelly, Steffini Walker, and Heather Falls for reading through these pages with me!
Readers. I swear to you, to this day it blows my mind that there are people on this earth that I will never have the chance to meet that have shared these stories with me, people who get it, who leave reality and step into my daydreams with me if only for a moment. You humble me. I can’t stress that enough. Thank you so much for taking a chance, giving up your time to read my work.
As you can clearly see, people often think that writers have solitary lives, and in some real fashion we do, but more so than not, the story you are reading was impacted by not only those that walked the publishing line with the writer, but the world at large. Inspiration is everywhere, in every dark and positive moment, in every song, drive, commercial. Everything is inspiration. Life is beautiful, even the dark stressful moments. You just have to find that beauty, and thankfully I have outstanding people in my life that ensure that I notice it each and every day.
