Fusion (The Patrick Chronicles)

by Nicole Williams

  “Playing dumb is the only way to respond to someone saying something as dumb as you just did,” she replied, smiling tightly at me.

  “Make me Mortal, Bryn,” I said, trying to sit up. Yeah, sitting up wasn’t going to happen. “You can do it. You’re the only person who could.”

  “What?” she said, the skin between her eyebrows pinching. “Please, Patrick Bartholomew Hayward. Please tell me you’re not saying what I think you are.”

  “Damn right I am,” I replied, staring at her without blinking. I needed her to know how serious I was‌—‌how there was no regret or hesitation in them. “Change me.”

  “What?” she said again, scooting away from me, but not before gently resting my head on the ground. “You’re crazy.”

  “Why, yes. Yes, I am.” I tilted my head back. She was scooting on her backside away from me. That meant she was thinking seriously about my serious request. “Would it help if I said please?”

  “Would I be more clear if I said Hell, all the way to Hades, no?” she threw back, her voice a few notes higher than normal.

  “Come on, Bryn,” I said, making like a snake and trying to slither towards her. Okay, so like a wounded snake. “You know I don’t take no for an answer.”

  Her eye shifted to the side as she took one more scoot back. “You did once.” Her voice was a whisper, but it was deafeningly loud.

  I cleared my throat, which was more like running razor blades down it than clearing. “Well, once is all I can do,” I said. “I won’t take any more nos, most of all coming from you.”

  I knew this blow was about as low as they came, but I was desperate. If Bryn, for no other reason than her pent up guilt at choosing William over me, agreed to phase me from Immortal to Mortal, it was worth it.

  “Why?” she said, wiping her arm over her eyes, still looking away.

  It was a simple answer.

  “Emma.”

  “You’re doing this for a girl?” she said, trying to sound insulted.

  “Not a girl. The girl,” I clarified, working to keep myself calm. If I went all frantic on her, I’d never convince her to do this. At least, not before the rest of my family showed back up, and I already knew not a single one of them would be on board with the whole Patrick Mortalization Project.

  Bryn snorted, shaking her head. “You’re an idiot.”

  I smiled, wishing I had worn the shirt. “Positively.”

  “Patrick,” she began, likely about to break into some plea to get me to change my mind, but I lifted my hand to stop her. It didn’t matter what Bryn said, I was beyond listening.

  I saw the way to give Emma the normal life she’d always craved. I saw the way to spend our days together and, with a little help from the big man in the sky, die in the same decade as the other. I saw a life I wanted.

  And it didn’t matter the price it would cost to live it.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said, sliding closer to her. She was still a good twenty feet away. “Don’t look at me like I’m an immature, ignorant, lovesick chump because you and I both know if our roles were reversed and William was the Mortal you wanted to spend your life with, you’d be on your knees begging me for the exact same thing right now.”

  Another low blow, but I couldn’t back down now. She was caving. Bryn had almost as hard of a time saying no to me as I did to her. Whatever we’d shared in life had melded us together in a way that went beyond friendship. It went beyond the connection of family even. It was almost like our souls both recognized we were mates, matches for the other, but hadn’t been joined because we weren’t the match for each other. It was a bond I’d cursed until the day Emma Scarlett marched into my life.

  Now, it was the bond that would allow me to give Emma the life she deserved.

  “Please, Bryn,” I said. Well, I begged. “I’d do it for you.”

  Her fists clenched into balls, one of them punching the ground. When her eyes shifted to me, staring right through me, I knew I’d won.

  I was already smiling when she said, “Okay.”

  I collapsed, not sure if the exertion from moving or battling Bryn had exhausted me more. “Thank you.”

  “You shouldn’t thank me when I’ve got a ninety percent chance of killing you,” she said, crawling in my direction. Her eyes were red, but she was keeping the tears contained.

  “You won’t kill me,” I said, resting my eyes. “You like me too much.”

  “Ha! If liking you has a direct correlation with killing you, then you’re toast, buddy.”

  “I love you too, Bryn,” I said, lacing my fingers over my chest, ready for whatever fate had in store for me.

  Her hands moved beneath my head, replacing it into her lap. Her fingers hooked into my hair, combing through it. “I love you, too,” she said, choking on a sob.

  I opened my eyes, looking up at her. She was terrified, beyond every degree of terror I’d ever seen in a person, but she found the strength to smile down at me.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  No time for losing my iron resolve now.

  “Always.”

  She nodded, weaving her other hand through my hair. Her fingers scrolled over my scalp, like she was trying to read my thoughts. “You’re so weak already. They nearly killed you, Patrick,” she said, closing her eyes in focus. “I pull too much or too hard from you and I’ll kill you instantly.” A tear slipped from her closed eyes, which was promptly swiped away with her arm.

  “I have faith in you.”

  She chuckled tightly. “I’ve never done a reversal before, you know that, right? The only thing I know about reversal is what your father and I have discussed. All theory. No practice.”

  “You’re about to get some practice below your belt then,” I replied, for the first time feeling the weight of everything I risked losing attempting this. It wasn’t only my Immortality I was giving up‌—‌I risked losing my life, my family, Emma, if this didn’t go how I hoped.

  “I’d rather practice on someone I didn’t care about so much then,” she said.

  “Ah, Bryn. Are we having a moment?”

  “Looks like we’re about to,” she said, her fingers stopping, drilling into my scalp. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Yes,” I said, gritting my teeth because I knew what was coming. I’d felt Bryn’s touch once before and to say it was something I’d never forget was an understatement. A vast one.

  Her face morphed from terror to determination. The lines of her forehead drilled with concentration. She could do it. I knew she could.

  “See you on the other side,” she said, leaning down and kissing my forehead.

  “See you there,” I replied, putting my Immortality and Mortality in Bryn’s hands.

  The instant the shocks of pain radiated through my body, I realized this wasn’t one of my better moments, but as the life started streaming out of my veins, I also knew it was one of my best moments too.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I knew I was close. More on the side of dead than alive. I could sense that as I watched Bryn’s face screwed in concentration, but I was past the point of vocalization. I was long past the point of movement and about two seconds away from cognition altogether.

  The pain was so scalding, it crossed the realm of pain into something else completely. As the life drained from me, sucked away by the first girl I’d ever loved, the face of the girl I’d love for the rest of eternity‌—‌no matter where I spent it‌—‌was the only thing my mind clung to. I clung to her face with such ferocity Bryn’s face began to morph above me. Her dark brown hair lightened, falling in gentle waves over her shoulders. Her sapphire blue eyes grew larger, taking on the unique shade of green that was all Emma’s. Her skin lightened in color, a smattering of freckles dotting her nose.

  As I knew my eyes were about to close for the last time, Emma’s face shone above me, smiling down at me. I saw the life I wanted in her eyes, the life I’d waited two centuries for, and the life I
had to let go.

  I winced, trying to summon whatever strength I had left to say farewell. To say the only thing there was left to say. To say what I should have always known I’d have to one day say to the fiercest, most fragile girl I knew.

  Something worked its way up my vocal chords. “Good‌—‌” I stammered, the last word lost as I lost myself.

  I slipped into a black void, getting sucked into it until I was nothing, had been nothing more, and wouldn’t ever be more than the void swallowing me into its depths.

  And then, when the dark was blackest, when no light could cut through its depths, I was snapped out of it. Like the arms of god himself had reached down and found me, pulling me back.

  My eyes burst open as my lungs gasped for breath. My lungs gasped for breath.

  Because they needed oxygen. Because those lungs would require oxygen every day until I died. What was the average lifespan of a man these days? Seventy? Eighty?

  Who the hell knows, and besides, it was a little late to be concerned about these kinds of details.

  I was Mortal.

  I could feel it thundering to life inside of me. My heart beat with intention, with a purpose now, no longer out of pattern. My breath came regularly, delivering oxygen into my bloodstream. My skin crawled with sensation, feeling‌…‌cold. I felt cold, chilly. I hadn’t felt cold or hot like this in two centuries.

  A face leaned over mine, a shaky smile decorating her face. Bryn looked like she was in worse shape than I imagined what I looked like. The upper half of her face was still lined in terror, but the lower half was relaxing into relief.

  “That better not have been good bye you were trying to get out, you stupid, stupid boy,” she said, her voice wavering as she worked her fingers out of my hair. She lifted them in front of her, surveying them like she couldn’t believe what they were capable of.

  I cleared my throat, not because it felt like I was choking on razors, but because it was dry. Parched even. “Would you believe me if I told you I meant that to be a good job?” I asked, my voice not as smooth as it had been, my ears no longer digesting it with pitch perfect precision.

  “I’m going to choose to play the blissfully ignorant person right now and answer yes, I would believe you,” she replied and this time when another tear escaped from the corner of her eye, she didn’t wipe it away.

  “Thank you,” I said, lifting my arm and grabbing one of her hands she still held in front of her eyes. I wove my fingers through hers and gave it a squeeze. I actually had to exert force to squeeze them. Bryn’s hand no longer felt like soft flesh to my touch‌—‌it was hard, unforgiving, like I was squeezing heated metal.

  “Thanks for not dying,” she replied, her voice evening out as one more tear ran down the other cheek.

  “Ehhh,” I said, waving my hand. “I knew I wasn’t going to die.”

  She smirked down at me, always able to see through my BS. “Why’s that? Because you know the stuff you’re made of?”

  I lifted myself up and twisted to face her. My body ached, one leg felt all tingly with numbness, and I was pretty sure at least one of my fingers was broken from Bryn’s hulk strength fingers gripping mine. But damn if I’d never felt better in my life.

  “Nah,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. At least that had retained all its prior glory. “It’s because I know the stuff you’re made of.”

  “I see Mortality hasn’t affected your bloated charm,” she said.

  “Only enhanced it,” I replied, winking.

  Without warning, Bryn started sobbing, curling into herself and choking on sob after sob that released itself. Bryn disdained showing weakness almost as much as I did. In fact, I couldn’t recall ever seeing her this distraught.

  “Come here,” I said, pulling her to me. Her body rocked against mine, each sob vibrating over me, each tear dampening my shirt.

  “I thought I was going to kill you,” she choked out, shaking her head against me.

  “Yeah, you were pretty close,” I replied, running my hands through her hair, trying to calm her. “But you didn’t. That was some pretty impressive stuff for someone who’s only trained in theory.”

  She sniffled into my shirt. “Good thing for you I’m a quick learner.”

  “Good thing for you,” I replied, patting her back as her crying dimmed. “Because if you had, you’d miss out on all this greatness. A girl might be able to go without food for ten days, but she can’t make it even one without looking upon this kind of exquisiteness.”

  She laughed into my shirt. “Instead of firing back what I’m biting back, I’ll just agree and admit it’s nice to still have you here in all your lack of self-confidence.”

  “We’re making progress, Mrs. Hayward,” I said as she leaned away from me. She was a blotchy, red-faced mess. “Are you okay? All done sobbing the alphabet?”

  She nodded, wiping at her face, which only made it redder.

  “Good. Because you are a really ugly crier,” I teased. “We’re talking world record setting here.”

  She swatted at me, rolling her eyes. That swat that wouldn’t have registered on the sensation scale two minutes ago knocked me over.

  “Ooo, sorry,” Bryn said, grabbing my arm and pulling me back up. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

  I grunted, dusting myself off. “You’re telling me.”

  Laughing, she wiped something off my face. Thankfully, with restraint. “What are you going to tell everyone?”

  “The truth.”

  “Which is?” she asked, appraising me like she wasn’t sure I was the same Patrick Hayward I’d been minutes ago.

  I was.

  And I wasn’t.

  I grinned at the floor. “You tried to kill me.” I looked up, flashing my grin at her. “And failed.”

  She shoved me again, but she didn’t send me flying this time. “You shouldn’t mess with someone that could break you like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

  “Even before I was a man in all my Mortal splendor,” I said, shaking my hair into place, “you could have broken me any day of the week, Bryn.”

  “Good point,” she said, glancing back at the tunnel behind us.

  “Excellent point,” I clarified, following her gaze. I couldn’t hear a thing‌—‌I couldn’t hear the flap of a bat’s wings half a mile down that tunnel any more‌—‌but what I’d gained was worth what I lost.

  “Your father’s going to be furious,” she said, popping up and positioning herself in front of me. It was a protective stance. I wasn’t used to being the one who needed protection. “And William’s going to be‌—‌”

  “And William’s going to be smitten,” I interrupted, hoisting myself up beside her. I wasn’t going to sit on my ass and let a girl stand guard. “Like he always is. He could run in here and find us making out like a couple sexpots and he’d forgive you.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I don’t,” I said, sliding my hands on my hips. My thumb skimmed raised skin just beneath my shirt. An old scar. The bullet hole that had killed me. Scars, bruises, cuts, and scrapes: they were realities of my world now.

  “Are you serious?” she said, glancing at me as I pulled my shirt free of my pants so I could, for the first time, see the scar of the wound that had ended my Mortality. Her eyes landed on the scar that was positioned right over the lower half of my abs, just above my belt line. Her cheeks flushed just barely.

  “No, I’m not serious,” I said, turning to face her full on to see how much redder I could get that face of hers. “But I can see you are. Unfortunately for you, I’m no longer on the market. No longer at your beck and making out call. Sorry, Bryn. You should have picked the other brother when you had your chance.”

  Her eyes narrowed and this time, when she shoved me, I stumbled halfway across the room.

  “Cover up and stop being an ass,” she said, turning away from me. “They’re almost here.” Just barely glancing over her shoulder, she add
ed, “And you better have one hell of an explanation for them because I’m no longer on your side on this one.”

  Once I’d gotten control of myself, I strolled back over to her. “Becoming Mortal didn’t make me stupid”‌—‌her eyes flashed my way‌—‌”-er. Stupider,” I clarified. “I can still tell when you’re lying because, let’s be honest, an amoeba could call BS on your lies.”

  Her glare grew more pronounced, but she didn’t dispute it.

  “Come on. You and I are always on the same side. That’s the only way the universe works,” I continued, nudging her. I dodged the elbow she returned. “I’m the black sheep of the family and you’re the grim reaper. By default, we’re always on the same side.”

  “Well, black sheep, here comes the rest of your herd.” Stepping forward, Bryn angled herself in front of me again.

  I was over the whole girl protecting the boy thing. Besides, what in the hell was she protecting me from? A power noogie from Joseph? It didn’t matter how much of a weakling Mortal I’d become, I could still take that grinning idiot.

  “Mind telling me what you’re trying to guard me from?” I asked, shouldering up beside her, watching as each member of my family trickled back into the room. They were all accounted for, save for Nathanial, who had surely made it topside with Emma by now. None looked wounded or even slightly injured. In fact, no one had a tear in their clothing or a clump of hair out of place to give away they were just in some small grade Immortal battle.

  “Want to know what I’m protecting you from?” Bryn asked, stiffening as they all ran towards us.

  “The boogie man?”

  She let out a short sigh before she thrust herself in front of me. “This!” she shouted, blocking me as Joseph hauled ass in my direction. Throwing her hands into his chest, she stilled him in his tracks. The unexpected transaction stopped everyone else as well.

  “Have you gone mad, Bryn?” Joseph said, his face dropping into confusion as he backed away from her. He was still shirtless and banged up, but his body was making quick work of healing his wounds.