Ties That Bind: a New Adult Fantasy Novel (The Spire Chronicles Book 2)

by Ashley Meira

  “Morgan…” His voice was broken, barely above a whisper.

  “I said shut up,” I whimpered. “Just shut up. You’re going to be fine, so just shut up.”

  “I’m sorry.” His hand trembled as he reached for me again. “I l-love…”

  I let out an inhuman whine and blindly reached for his hand, squeezing it tight once I found it. Well, as tight as I could with all the blood making my hand slip around like a baby dolphin. He didn’t seem to care, and the realization that I was holding my father’s hand while he was bleeding to death had me breaking down into another crying fit.

  A shadow appeared over me and Alex’s voice rang out. “What–”

  “CALL AN AMBULANCE!” I shrieked, crying out in relief when the bullet was finally removed.

  I flung it aside and placed my free hand on his torso, my trembling getting worse as I felt how his chest barely moved. I bombarded his body with healing magic, turning my head to cough up the bile that rushed out with my efforts, the normally tangy taste like mud against my tongue. My vision was filled with a blurry golden light as I healed him, whispering that everything was going to be alright.

  I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince.

  16

  I was already soaked in blood, so I wasn’t bothered when I collapsed against my dad’s chest, clinging to him for dear life as I sobbed like a baby. I had healed him. All the bullet holes were closed up and I’d stopped the bleeding, but I didn’t have enough focus to fix his bones. The doctors would have to take care of that. Whether or not his body would make it through all the trauma and blood loss was still a mystery – I didn’t have enough medical experience to know.

  “You’re strong,” I whispered in his ear. “I know you are. You’re strong and you’re going to pull through. Do you hear me? You are going to live. It’s not a request, it’s an order. I still have so many things to say to you, to ask you, so you can’t leave, okay? You can’t. Please don’t leave.”

  He was too weak to speak or move much – that he was still awake was nothing short of a miracle – but his fingers twitched against my knee. The action made me cry harder, though I was pretty sure anything he did right now would make me cry harder. I didn’t let go until sirens rang and people came rushing in. The paramedics pushed me aside to look over Sullivan, and I laid there as Alex hurried to me.

  Everything, from the tips of my boots to the top of my head, was drenched in blood. It was hot, heavy, and sticky against me, the reminder of my father’s mortality rendering me near catatonic. Alex was here, though. He came. I feebly reached for him, my hand bloodying his sweater. He took it, lifting me up against him into a sitting position.

  “Morgan, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “He–” I whimpered, staring at the paramedics’ backs as they huddled around my father. “He’s…”

  Alex turned my head back to face him. “He’s going to be okay, Morgan. Tell me about you. Are you okay?”

  Physically? Maybe. Mentally? Not even close.

  “I have to go after Wright. He did this, he has to pay.” I tried to stand up, but the blood under my feet made everything slippery.

  “No.” Alex held me down. “You’re tapped out. You haven’t eaten or slept–”

  “It’s my fault,” I said as more tears pushed their way forward. Fuck this. The second I got some rest, I was going to cauterize my damn tear ducts.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “If I had been stronger, if I’d figured it out sooner–”

  Alex gripped my face, his fingers firm against my skin. “This is not your fault. None of this is your fault. You did the best you could.”

  “And it wasn’t enough,” I cried, burying my face in his shoulder like a child. “It’s never enough. Lady Cassandra, Lily, and now… Please, Alex, I need to find him.”

  He sighed, holding me against him as if he was afraid I’d disappear. “I’m coming with you.”

  I shook my head furiously. “No. You’ll get hurt like he did. I don’t want that. I love you, so I have to protect you. He can’t take you away from me. I won’t let him.”

  I didn’t notice the words had slipped out, but Alex jumped on them immediately. “You what?”

  I pawed at his cheek, sniffling. “I love you. I know it’s the worst possible time ever and maybe it’s too soon and…and I don’t know. But I love you, and I don’t want you to get hurt, so please…”

  “I love you, too,” he said in what was barely a whisper. “And if you love me the same way, then you know how much I don’t want you to get hurt, either.”

  “I’ll heal,” I whined.

  “From injuries, not exhaustion.” He pulled me to my feet, and I fell against him as dark spots assaulted my vision. “See? It’s no good to have you pass out mid-fight.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “We have to hurry before he escapes. Tracking spell – get me some of his hair.”

  “He’s practically bald.” He was still fussing over me like a mother hen. “And no way are you using magic anymore, not until you heal.”

  “Skin, then. Something,” I said, ignoring his last comment. How exactly did he expect me to turn off something that came as naturally as breathing? “His bedroom is upstairs, far right.”

  “Morgan, no. Did you hear me?”

  “Magic is reflexive. It’s like telling me not to blink.”

  “Well, this reflex could kill you.”

  He was right. I knew it, but I didn’t know how to stop. I stepped away from him, taking a deep breath to clear my head. “I’ll try, but there’s no mana bar. Magic draws on my energy, and I don’t know how to block it. I can keep using it until I black out.”

  He gave me a pointed look. “Which you won’t.”

  “I promise to try.”

  Alex nodded and pulled me back to him. “Tom is still in the hospital.”

  “Lucky him.”

  “He might know where Wright is.”

  “But–”

  “No,” he said. I wanted to set him on fire. Lovingly. “We can track him the old fashioned way.”

  I shook my head, catching sight of the paramedics taking my dad away. “Where are you taking him?” Stupid question, but it slipped out anyway.

  A woman with short blonde hair stepped away from the stretcher to speak with me. “We’re taking him to the hospital. His vitals seem stable…”

  I nodded rapidly, not hearing anything I didn’t already know. “Bottom line, please.”

  “We’re hopeful,” she said, giving me a polite nod and excusing herself.

  Alex hurried after her and they exchanged a few words before he came back and took my hand. “They’ll give us a ride to the hospital.” When I didn’t reply, he gently tugged my arm. “Come on, you can stay with your dad.”

  I leaned against him. “And you? Will you stay?”

  He wiped the blood off my forehead and pressed a kiss against the newly exposed skin. “Of course.”

  I spent the entire ride with one hand in Alex’s and the other clutching my dad’s.

  The nurses were kind enough to lend me a set of scrubs and let me use their shower. My toes curled at all the red pooled around my feet. My long hair felt thick, clumped with blood, despite the beating spray of hot water having already washed everything away. I was tempted to grab a pair of scissors and just chop it all off. Or burn it off, though based on the way my arms shook as I scrubbed myself raw, magic wasn’t a good idea.

  While I was changing into the comfy pink scrubs and tying my hair into a heavy, wet bun, a nurse entered the locker room. She was petite and polite, and offered me a wool cardigan.

  “I figure you’re not staying here very long, and it’s pretty cold outside,” she said. “Your friend is already with the…suspect? Hunter? I don’t know. They’re in room 402.”

  I slipped on the cardigan and thanked her before heading off to find Alex. Room 402 was at the end of an uncrowded hallway and the room itself was empty save for the
two men. Tom looked like shit. So did Alex. So did I. Each of us for different reasons, but it was something we had in common. Right now, it may be the only thing we have in common.

  “Is she the reason you’re acting crazy?” Tom asked, scratching around the IV stuck into his arm. “We’re friends, man. Don’t let some–”

  I pounced, bouncing lightly as I landed on the bed. My hands wrapped around Tom’s neck, the muscles around his throat pressing against my palm. “Where is Wright?”

  In my peripheral, I could see Alex’s eyes widen. “Morgan–”

  “You had this whole time to get it out of him,” I said, my eyes never leaving Tom’s bulging hazel ones. He’d be fine; I wasn’t squeezing hard enough to kill, not with the way my hands were trembling. Besides, we were in a hospital – they had respirators. “Now, it’s my turn.”

  “I just spent days being tortured by Garou,” Tom forced out as I tightened my grip. “You think you can break me?”

  “I won’t lie, your loyalty is damn admirable,” I whispered. “But I’ve spent some time with the Garou, too, and you know what I learned?”

  “What?” Tom snarled, his perfect white teeth bared.

  Magic pooled into my hands naturally, like a flowing river; I didn’t even notice it until it seeped past my fingertips. I pressed my cheek against his. “They’re nicer than I am.”

  Tom let out a pained shout as the skin under my hands heated up, the stench of burnt flesh filling the room. A pair of hands grabbed my sides and I was hoisted up into the air, steam rising up from the welts in Tom’s skin.

  “Damn it, Alex.” I struggled in his hold, wet strands of hair slipping out of my bun. “Put me down.”

  “Crazy bitch,” Tom mumbled as he sat back up.

  “Shut up,” I said. “You’re being pumped full of drugs, I bet you’re already numb.”

  “I’ve got fucking handprints seared into my neck!”

  He was right. Angry, red handprints were visible on his skin. Now that the steam had dissipated, I could see parts of his skin were cracked and other parts were boiling. Fine, I overdid it. He could consider it a physical reminder of what he had done.

  “That’s not even close to what the people you killed went through,” Alex said through clenched teeth as he set me down.

  Tom looked away. “I just held them down.”

  “Oh,” I scoffed. “Yeah, that makes it okay. ‘I didn’t skin them alive, I just held them down while someone else did it.’ Fucking A.”

  “I’ve been in the hospital. How do you expect me to know where Wright is?”

  “He shot my father.” I rushed for him again but Alex caught me by the waist. “He got caught, shot my father four times in the chest, and fucking ran off. Where the hell would he go? Take a fucking guess before I add more handprints to your collection.”

  I sounded like a psychopath, and with the way my hair was spilling around, I probably looked like one, too. Nausea shot through me as I struggled against both Alex and the magic churning inside me. The lights flickered and the windows thrummed as my magic rushed around like a monsoon. I closed my eyes and tried to relax against Alex’s chest before the entire room exploded.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Tom held his hands up and looked at Alex. “Dude, you didn’t tell me Sir Wallace got shot. How long have you been here that you didn’t think to mention it?”

  “You don’t get to play the injured party,” Alex said, turning me around so I wasn’t facing Tom anymore.

  “Is he going to be okay?” asked Tom.

  “You won’t be, if you don’t tell me what I need to know,” I growled.

  “He’s unconscious but stable,” said Alex.

  Tom sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “You were skinning people alive,” I snarled, pushing Alex off me.

  “I know.” Tom sighed again. “It wasn’t personal. I know, I know,” he said as I opened my mouth again. “It’s a shit excuse. Wright was like a mentor to me when I first left the academy. He was a good man, believe it or not.”

  “Not.”

  “Morgan,” said Alex.

  “Fine.”

  Tom looked between the two of us. “After he got crippled – Well, hunter crippled; holding your own against a vampire is a different kettle of fish to a bar fight with humans.”

  I raised a brow. “A kettle of fish?”

  “Anyway,” Tom said, narrowing his eyes at me, “his life went to shit after that. He started drinking so much that his wife got sick of it. She took their daughter and left, telling him they weren’t coming back until he got himself together. All it did was make him drink more. He couldn’t hold down a job, the money went dry… All that stuff.”

  “He has a nice house for someone with money problems,” said Alex.

  “Yeah. Now,” Tom said. “His wife – ex-wife – got really sick. Cancer. After he got the news, he started to turn his life around – stopped drinking, got a job, and eventually made his way up to Sir Wallace’s right-hand. But she kept getting sicker, and the medical bills kept coming in; he just couldn’t keep up.”

  “He told you all this?” Alex asked.

  “About two months ago, I came back from a hunt and we decided to grab a drink – catch up and all that. A few hours and a shit-ton of booze later, he poured his heart out. So, I made a joke – a joke – that he could steal some of those super dangerous artifacts that we’re supposed to turn over to the Council and sell them on the black market. Apparently, he took me seriously. Or at least he did after he met that dude.”

  “Dude?” I said. “A vampire, right?”

  Tom nodded. “Didn’t give me a name or anything. Just said he got an offer: Protean and Garou parts for money. Big money. Wright knew he couldn’t do it alone, so he asked if I was interested or if I knew people who were. I wasn’t gonna do it, but then he told me exactly how much the guy was offering.” He looked at us, regret aging him ten years. “It was more than anything I’d ever made in my life. And that was just for one body. I knew it was wrong, but I’ve got rent and bills and…other debts.” He shook his head. “I know what I did. I don’t expect forgiveness.”

  Good, because I wasn’t giving it. I didn’t feel bad about it, either. A little sorry for them, sure – life gets pretty shitty when money’s tight, especially when people got sick. That didn’t excuse the things they’d done. At least Tom owned up to it. He even looked guilty, which I respected him for. A little; the sensations and memories of the victims’ were still fresh in my head.

  “You two are close,” I said. “Where would he go if he was on the run?”

  “Out of town,” Tom said, looking utterly defeated. “He’d stop at the cemetery first, though.”

  “Why?” asked Alex.

  “To say goodbye to his wife.”

  17

  Cold air drifted up the loose scrub pants I was wearing, freezing my calves. I was wearing a pair of sneakers, my boots – and the files I’d stuffed in them – were laying on the floor of my father’s hospital room. It was a decision I regretted as another gust of frigid air whipped around us. I should’ve at least dried my hair; the wet strands felt frozen, numbing my skull.

  Despite it being morning, Dovesport Cemetery was as dim and creepy as if we’d been skulking around at midnight. As if sensing the mood, dark, heavy clouds overwhelmed the sky, blocking out all possible light and basking the city in various shades of gloom. It looked like the beginnings of a storm, and as silly as it sounded, I hoped lightning would come to strike Wright down.

  Alex was with me, both of us holding our guns as we looked for the ex-hunter. Maybe I was still emotional over my father, because my eyes kept flickering back to Alex. I still didn’t want him here. I even tried to get him to go to the forest and get backup from the Garou instead. He pointed out that by the time he reached the pack, Wright could have fled.

  Stupid, smart jerk.

  It wasn’t safe for him here. Yes, h
e was a good hunter, but my dad had been a good hunter. And where was he now? In the fucking hospital because of the very man we were looking for. I almost lost him, I couldn’t – wouldn’t – lose Alex.

  The wind howled, and I flinched at the sharp noise, whipping around to aim at the formless source. Damn it, Morgan, find your center. Look around. Strategize. The thick tree trunks would provide ample cover, and if there weren’t any around Wright, then the tombstones would do just as well. Morbid, yes, but I’d rather hide behind a tombstone than be buried underneath one.

  Walking into a confrontation brought with it feelings I’d long since accustomed myself to. It was a heavy veil draped over my shoulders, a weighing in my heart that told me I would have to take another life. The feeling was alleviated somewhat by reassuring myself that I’d done enough investigating to be certain I wasn’t killing an innocent.

  But preparing to kill a hunter was a strange experience. The only other time I had to do it, I’d been more concerned about saving my friends and stopping the Spire from being unlocked than anyone standing in my way. And I wasn’t even the one who killed Vaughn – Alex was.

  The thought of Vaughn had me frowning. Two – seven, when you counted Tom and his group – hunters gone bad in as little as two months, both in Order cities. Even if I did believe in coincidences, these incidents both led back to Fake-Corrigan. Sure, he preyed upon their needs (Vaughn with his thirst for power, Wright for his need of money), but he instigated all of it. He put the ideas in their heads.

  If you do this for me, I can give you what you want.

  Alex signaled to me and nodded ahead. Wright was there, kneeling in front of a tombstone. He was saying something, his words soft as a prayer. I heard him anyway.

  “I’ll be going away for a while, Jenny. I just wanted to say goodbye since I won’t be able to visit. Don’t worry, though, Elizabeth will be fine. I put all my money into an account with her name on it, so when she’s all grown up she’ll have enough to live off of. She should be able to keep the house, too, if they don’t take it away. You’d have loved it, sweetheart – it looks just like the house you used to describe to me, the one we planned to buy when we could afford it. At least our little girl will get to enjoy it, even if we won’t get to see her grow up.” He let out a weepy chuckle. “She’s already grown up, though, isn’t she? Law school, just like she always dreamed of.”