by TW Knight
There were so many things he needed to fix having nothing to do with home maintenance.
They sat in the stillness for several minutes before Bass answered. "I'm sorry, I don't have an answer. As lame as that sounds, I am sorry. I know what he's going though and wouldn't wish this upon anyone. All I can promise you is that I will stand by your side and help you however I can."
"How do you do it? Live with this monster inside of you trying to get out?"
"Honestly, I haven't a clue. Before I came here, I would wake every morning and wonder if that was the day I'd finally let go. Take the final step into Hell. But then I would get up, strap on my weapons, go kill a demon or some other non-human nasty, sex-up some random woman, and I'd feel better for a little while." He lay back on the tile and pulled Bree next to him. "The next day it would start over like a bad CD stuck on repeat."
"I should have noticed," Bree whispered against his chest.
"What?"
"Sam. That he needed help. Real help. I should have forced him to get counseling or something."
"I think he used the fighting as his therapy. Besides, you can't force someone to get help— they have to want it."
"Still, I should have realized all this demon hunting wasn't just about avenging our parents or protecting the world. I should have known he was in real trouble. He just liked the fighting too much. He took more and more risks." She snorted a laugh. "God, I'm so stupid! He knew he was getting out of hand, that's why he always insisted we live in the middle of nowhere. It was to protect other people from him, not the demons."
"None of this is your fault. You both suffered a serious trauma as kids. Not only did your parents die, and you witnessed their deaths, but you had the stark reality that monsters really do exist shoved down your throats. That kind of thing changes a person."
"It didn't change me."
"Didn't it? Most people would be living out the rest of their lives in a cozy padded cell with a twenty–four–seven Thorazine drip. Instead, you sucked it up and fought back."
"So did Sam."
"Yes, but that became his only reason to exist. You took a different path. You went to school and tried to make as normal a life as possible out of what you had."
Bree snorted and hid her face in her hands.
Looping his arms around her, Bass pulled Bree close, her body shaking as the anger ran out and turned into silent sobs against his chest.
Lying on the floor, Bass gazed at the ceiling and let his worries chase themselves around his head like a mad game of duck-duck-goose. What if they were wrong and it wasn't PTSD on steroids? What if Sam was contaminated by a demon early on and that's what drove him toward madness now? What if Sam was one of those psychos who liked to kill and what happened in the courtyard finally pushed the boy over the edge? There were too many variables.
"Bree," he whispered into her hair. "I'm not a therapist or anything, but I think we can help Sam get through this. Help him find the Light. We've all been where he is, in one way or another. We'll fight with you to save him."
He'd give up everything he had to heal Sam if that was what Bree wanted.
She sniffled and nodded, rubbing her cheek against his shirt. "Thank you."
Chapter Thirty-Six
Bree stretched and pushed away from Bass. She was completely drained and while she appreciated Bass' embrace, she just wanted a hot bath and bed. Warm hands slid up her back kneading her stiff shoulders and neck.
"I shouldn't have let you lay on the cold tile so long." Bass breathed against her neck. "You're all knotted up."
Bree patted his hands and stood with a groan. "I should go check in on Sam."
"I think you should go take a hot bath and go to bed." Bass jumped to his feet, stretched, and cracked his neck. "I think a nap would do us both some good."
"Bass."
"Just sleep, babe."
Bree walked across the gym to the discarded sword. "I think I want to sleep alone," she whispered. The sword was cold and heavy in her hands, much like the heart in her chest.
An icy chill like death's finger dragged lazily up her spine.
Turning to put the sword away, Bree found herself alone.
A different kind of cold settled in her stomach, made her chest ache.
So he left without saying good-bye or anything? Big deal. She'd asked to be alone and he'd given her that.
What did she expect? Bass comforted her as a close friend, not a lover. They weren't lovers. Being lovers implied an emotional connection. A connection they didn't have. They were nothing more than fuck-buddies. Two people thrown together by circumstances they couldn't control. Something she thought she could handle. After all, he'd been upfront about his inability to love her.
In response she said she wasn't looking for love.
Bree shook her head.
She couldn't lie to herself anymore. Love found her when she wasn't paying attention. Bit her in the ass, then sat back laughing at the chaos.
Frustrated, Bree tossed the sword onto the nearest equipment table and walked out.
Fuck Bass and his emotional constipation, she had a brother to save.
***
Bass stood cloaked within the don't see me spell as Bree stalked out of the gym. If she wanted to be alone, he'd leave her be. But he couldn't leave her. Being separated created a cold burning pain in his chest he didn't understand.
After a count to ten, he followed.
At the top of the stairs leading to the main level, Bass nearly ran into Bree when she stopped dead in her tracks. The villa was in complete chaos.
Human's and Knights alike— some sporting weapons —ran through the foyer and hall, shouting. Not a single alarm screamed.
Confused, Bass dropped the cloaking spell and rushed forward. His appearance surprised Bree and she let out a scream, but he didn't look back.
"What's happened?"
"Bass. Bree. There you are." Hacker strode forward with grim resolve on his face. "Hogart and Sam have vanished."
"What?" Bree shoved past Bass.
Hacker placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Kaz thinks Hogart may have taken your brother off the island."
Bass caught Bree when she stumbled, shock turning her breaths into ragged pants. He turned to his fellow warrior. "How long ago?"
Bree shoved out of his hold. "I thought you couldn't pop off the island without help."
"I know, but—"
"Did you know Hogart could do that? Weren't you watching him? Why did you let him take my brother?"
The accusations flew at Bass like daggers. He stepped back, hands up. "Okay, so we may have underestimated his power level, assumed his ability to flash was as diminished as ours, but we never expected him to—"
"He's fucking crazy! You should expect everything." Turning to Hacker, Bree leveled him with a scowl. "How do we find my brother?"
"Take a breath, Bree," he said calmly. "We only just realized they were missing when Zach went to check on them. They couldn't have been gone more than thirty minutes. Everyone is searching the island just in case Kaz is wrong."
"And if he's not?"
"Kaz, Rail, and Cassidy are seeing if they can sense the energy signature Hogart would have left behind if he created a portal."
"They can do that?" she asked, a hopeful glow in her eyes.
"Cassidy thinks they can, and that's good enough for the guys."
"How?" Bass stepped close to Bree and let out a relieved sigh when she didn't move away and let him place an arm around her shoulders.
"Cassidy has this theory about connecting with the energy she and Rail pumped into Hogart and Sam to chase off whatever possessed them."
"Oh God. What if it didn't really work? What if Hogart's already killed Sam?" Bree turned within Bass' embrace and laid her head against his chest. "I don't think I could..."
"Don't think about it." Bass placed a kiss against her hair. "I'll find him. I'll bring Sam back. I promise." Right after I kill that motherfuck
er Hogart for hurting you, he added silently.
"Don't make promises you can't keep." Bree pulled away, stalked across the foyer, and out the front door.
Bass followed a few steps behind to find Bree standing in the courtyard at the spot where Hogart's sword pierced the stone instead of her brother.
"He's out there," she whispered. "Scared and alone with a madman."
The alarms blared to life again startling them both.
"What the fuck now?" Bass grabbed Bree's wrist and dragged her back to the villa where Hacker greeted them at the door.
"It's cool," he shouted over the noise. "We're not under attack. Whatever Cassidy and Rail did set the alarms off." With a thumbs-up, he dashed inside.
Silence once again filled the courtyard. Bree pulled her arm free from Bass' hold. "I know where they are." She took off at a dead run.
"Where are you going?"
"The North cliffs!"
***
Dread filled Bree. Fighting her way up the overgrown path, she focused on her brother. The moment Hacker told her Sam vanished, she should have known where Hogart would take him. Hadn't he already threatened to throw Sam off the cliff? Wasn't it near where she saw the angel?
A loose rock shifted beneath her foot and she tumbled forward, grinding dirt into her palms. Unable to stop herself, she slid backward.
Bass caught her before she fell more than a few inches. "I can get us there faster." Without waiting for a response, he slung her around his back piggy-back style and took off. Bree barely had a second to wrap her arms around him.
Branches and leaves whipped them as they ran up the jagged cliff side. Twice Bass clawed his way up when the rocks shifted and he lost his footing. The path was not made for hiking. When they finally reached the top, both were sweaty, dirty, and covered in scratches.
"There!" Bree jumped down from Bass' back and ran toward the far side of the rise where the ground cut off and sky took over. At the edge, Sam stood, shaking; swaying like a tree in the wind.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
"Sam! Sam! Don't do it. Please." Bree rushed forward, tears streaming from her eyes.
Bass grabbed her and pulled her back before she got too close. "Let me handle this." She fought to pull away, but he held fast. "I mean it. Let me do this. We don't know what state of mind he's in." When Bree finally nodded, he let her go.
Thankful he didn't have to voice his growing fear that Sam might attack, Bass carefully assessed the situation as though he headed into battle.
Sam didn't move, didn't acknowledge his sister's pleas. He stood, swaying and looking out over the ocean. His face blank, showing no emotion.
"Sam," Bass started quietly. "Where's Hogart?" He watched the boy for any sign he was about to take the last step into oblivion. Bass calculated the distance between them. He could flash forward and grab Sam, but in the struggle, they might both go over— and only one of them would come back from that.
"He left." Sam's voice barely carried over the wind. "He was right here, and then, he wasn't."
"He jumped?"
"No. He just took a step toward the edge and was gone." Sam leaned forward, looking over the edge.
Bree whimpered.
It killed him to ignore Bree's distress, but he kept focused on her brother, taking a few careful steps forward. "What brought you up here?"
"Hogart. We were talking. Going over what happened. Talking about how I felt. How I thought what Cassidy and Rail did made things worse up here." Sam looked over his shoulder and tapped his head. "Something happened to me that night the demons came. I broke. Hogart understood. He thought we could help each other. He told me that he would teach me to fight if I taught him more about the modern world. Then, I don't know, he— he just got up and walked out. He was talking to himself. I was worried he was having a breakdown, too, so I followed him." Sam turned back to the ocean. "He was right here talking to the wind, and then he was gone."
"You saw him fall?"
"You're not listening!" Sam spun to face Bass, rage and confusion clouding his features. "Hogart didn't jump or fall or do that light thing you guys do to travel, he just stepped forward and vanished!"
"It's alright, Sam. We'll find out what happened."
"Could he have really done it?"
Bree edged closer to stand right behind Bass. "Done what, Sammy?"
"Fell. You know like angels fall."
Bass shook his head. "That's not how it works. To Fall means giving in, to turn your back on the Light. Hogart's been fighting that urge. You're not the kind of person to give in, either. You're a fighter. You've been fighting the Darkness your whole life. You need to keep fighting."
"I'm tired of fighting," Sam answered.
In the distance, Bass heard the others scrambling up the path. He really didn't want a crowd up there adding to the tension. Things could go sideways in a heartbeat if the boy got agitated.
Sam swayed again and stepped back, his heels skimming the edge.
Bree gasped.
"Where ever he went, you don't have to follow him." Bass took another step forward. "We'll get you help. I know a place where we can be alone. Just you, me, and Bree. It's another island Rail owns and no one lives there. We'll help you work through this. We'll be safe there."
Sam's answering laugh was devoid of humor. "You would give up all this to play prison guard for a crazy man?"
"Look, you're important to your sister. Your sister is important to me. If I have to give up every toy, weapon, and luxury to take care of you, I will."
"Would you give up my sister?" Sam's voice held no emotion, his words as cold as the winds pushing over the cliff ahead of the tempest rumbling at the horizon, darkening the ocean and sky to the same color.
Bass froze mid-step and turned to face Bree. "It would kill me, but if that's what it would take to save you, then yes."
Bree stumbled and fell to her knees crying, the pain radiating from her nearly knocked Bass off his feet.
"I mean it, Sam. If that's what you want—"
"I want to be normal."
"Normal." Bass scoffed. "The definition of normal is subjective. What you're living through right now, that rage, pain, confusion, doubt, anger, and emptiness, that's been my normal for ages. You let yourself turn cold inside hoping that will help, but it only numbs you for so long. You need to feel something, anything, but the pain clawing at your brain, so you start doing things that get your adrenalin pumping. Things that for a short time make you feel alive. But even that fades after a while and what are you left with? Hunger. An endless desire to fill that emptiness with whatever you can. I've slept with more women than I can count, collected weapons from every corner of the world, fought countless battles, drunk enough booze to fill that ocean ten times over, and nothing but the rage made me feel alive. That's how I lived and that's how I thought I'd die. But now, now I have Bree and she means everything to me. You mean everything to her. You can't give in."
"If I'm gone, she'll be free to live her life."
"No. No." Bree jumped to her feet and strode forward, determination etched in each stride. "I'll resent you and hate you until my dying breath. You were never a quitter. You're sick, that's all. We'll help you. We'll find a way."
"Stay back." Sam raised his arms to fend his sister off.
"Sam."
"I can't do this anymore, Bree. I've lost too much. First Mom and Dad, then Gran and Gramps, our friends— I couldn't protect any of them. And now Hogart. He was trying to help me and— God, it's like I'm cursed or something." His arms fell to his side. "It's all just too much."
"You selfish bastard! I lost just as much as you did."
Before Sam responded, Bree threw herself at her brother and wrapped her arms tightly around him.
"Bree! Get off me." Sam struggled. "Bass, do something."
"No."
"What," the twins said in unison.
Bass closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "This is her choice. She would rather
die with you than live without you."
Sam wrestled with his sister, bringing them precariously close to the edge. Gravel tumbled over. "You can't do this, Bree."
"You're my brother, my twin, and I love you. We've been together our entire existence and I'm not going to let you die alone. If you want to do this, then I'm going with you."
"Bass, you can't let her sacrifice herself this way."
"I told you, Sam, if it was what you wanted, I would give her up. If it means her death..." He swallowed the sob crawling up his throat. Blinked back tears he didn't know he could shed. "If it takes me a thousand years, Breanna Thorn, I'll find you again. You hold more than my soul, you have my heart, as well."
Bree smiled, her eyes filled with tears. "I love you, too."
Every instinct told him to rush the twins and pull them to safety, but it had to be Sam's choice. Whatever was going on in the boys head, Bass needed to believe there was still enough reason and sanity left to not take his sister down with him.
"I should never have forced you to follow me around hunting those monsters." Sam stopped struggling, his breath coming in short pants. "I should have cut ties right after graduation, let you go live your life."
"Did you ever hear me complain?"
"Yeah. A lot."
Bree sighed. "What I mean is, I could have walked away anytime I wanted, but I didn't. I didn't because I was afraid of what would happen if I left you alone. I saw the signs. I thought it was just fear of being alone, abandoned. I should have done more to help you."
Sam hugged her tight and rested his chin on her head. "Don't you dare blame yourself for any of this, Bree."
"But—"
"No. I tried to tell you before. You don't understand what it's like, Bree. It's like there's something alive inside of me that wants to break out and tear everything apart. When it wakes, I can't hold it back. It's getting worse. Hogart understood. That thing I'm fighting is me. I'm the one who wants to fight and hurt, and eventually I will kill an innocent. I'll kill you." With a surge, he pushed Bree toward Bass. "It's better I do this now before one of you has to put me down like a rabid dog. If it helps, think of it as a sacrifice for the greater good."
