by Rain Oxford
John gave me a serious expression and flicked his wrist in a dismissive gesture. Flagstone backed off Hunt, still growling, and Nightshade stepped back as well. Remy emerged slowly from the hallway. She had the same vacant look as Nightshade, as if she couldn’t focus on anything. She wore a white, old-fashioned nightgown, which seemed really weird on her.
“Don’t like it? I thought you went for girls in white nightgowns.”
“What are you doing? What game are you playing at?”
Hunt was basically pinned between his two friends and the only way to attack John was to go through them.
“What, this?” he indicated Remy. “This is a peace offering. You have proved yourself powerful and I saw what you did to Astrid in Stephen’s coven. You could be so much more than you are. Or you could be dead. Either way works for me. I am offering you a happy ending. Join me and I will teach you to be a more powerful wizard than Logan or Vincent could ever hope to become. I’ll even throw in Remy to use however you see fit.” He ran his index finger down her side.
“You don’t really think I would join you after what I saw in your head, do you?”
“Of course I do. Hell, I’ve seen the company you keep. You think Vincent and Logan are innocent? Maybe you should ask Henry why he is so afraid of you seeing what is in his mind. Your trusting little heart would break. Besides, I know what you’re capable of. Like father, like son.”
“I’m nothing like you,” I said. His smug expression dropped. “Yeah, I already figured out you were my father. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, maybe because we have the same super rare power, because Joseph Sanders and Maria Sanders both have type A blood and I have AB, or possibly because you know that strawberry birthmark under your ear? Yeah, I have that, too. Not an Agatha Christie mystery there.”
His eyes narrowed. “I am a patient man, Devon, but not forgiving. I am offering you everything you could want. You hate vampires as much as I do. Together, defeating them would be child’s play.”
“I don’t know why you hate vampires so much. Why did you hire me to find your daughter?”
“Like I said, it was a family matter. I knew you hated vampires, so I figured you would shoot first and ask questions later, so to speak. I knew Vincent would recruit you to find the murderer because he wouldn’t want to involve the council, which was why I left your phone in that house; I knew you would see it as a threat and take the first offer for protection that came your way.”
“Why did you want me to work with Vincent, who fights against war with the vampires?”
“I believed you would come to the conclusion that it was all a vampire attack and dig up some evidence that not even Hunt could refute. Vincent was feeding you information the entire time, all the while worrying about what evidence I was gathering, while I was relying on you to get it for me.”
“Evidence doesn’t work that way. I am an investigator; I change my theories to fit the facts, not facts to fit my theories.”
“For a wizard, facts are what we make of them. Had you done as I planned, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Who killed Reagan?” I asked. I already knew the answer; I was just hoping he would lie.
“I did. She wasn’t powerful and she wasn’t like us. She was just holding me back. When you have power, Devon, the world will change to accommodate you. You and I have that power. People who can’t be of service to us don’t deserve to breathe our air. Remy, show him.”
Hunt tried to get to his daughter, only to be attacked again by Flagstone. He created a shield of energy around him that looked like electricity flickering in double-paned glass. However, as well as it kept the wolf from attacking him, it kept him from getting to Remy.
I let her come to me in order to buy time. Her mind was blocked by John’s power, so I needed time to think. She stopped inches in front of me, leaned up, and kissed me. It was like kissing someone who was asleep; there was no spark. Yes, it was Remy, and yes, she was gorgeous, but there was no enthusiasm or passion in her touch because she didn’t want this.
But I had to buy time. I put my left hand gently on her neck and pulled her closer to deepen the kiss, then ran my right hand slowly down her side. I was reaching for my pocket, for anything I might have had on me, when I brushed something hard under her dress. She flinched. I slowly moved my hand back, as if I were just caressing her, and felt it; the knife.
“That isn’t very convincing, Remy,” John said.
I was still trying to connect with her mind, so I felt the jolt of lust he pushed into her, and it was enough to affect me. My body reacted on its own as she pressed herself flush against me. I forgot about the knife, reached under the hem of her nightgown, and ran my fingers all the way up her back, deliberately avoiding the part of her I wanted to touch the most. She moaned and squirmed against me.
There it is… that little piece of her mind that was so unbelievably stubborn that nobody could control it— not even her. It was a way in… if she would let me in. “Trust me.” I didn’t think she heard me until she twisted in a way that pressed the butt of the knife against my hip.
“Yes,” she moaned.
My body took that in all the wrong way, but at least my mind was ready. I pushed past the stubbornness until I could call up the memories that made her that way.
Hunt was right; she did get it from her mother. What he hadn’t told me was that Emilia Hunt died in childbirth and passed her power to her daughter. Emilia was dying and refused treatment that would hurt her unborn daughter. She believed that giving Remy her power was Remy’s best chance for survival. She hadn’t accounted for the extra magic putting a target on Remy’s back.
Remy grew up with adults. Since she was born, her father was right behind her, ready to catch her if she even started to stumble. Only certain people were allowed to even see her. She was taught by the finest tutors, after they were investigated thoroughly, of course. When she was finally old enough to attend the magic school for children, she had bodyguards.
Alpha Flagstone was always within reach. He knew she didn’t like being towered over by adults, so he spent many days as a wolf until most of the students didn’t even know he was a shifter. He was just “Remy’s wolf,” and he seemed to be fine with it.
When she got tired of her father being overprotective, she screamed at him about being a horrible father. She never forgave herself for that, even though he told her he had. The look on his face still broke her heart every time she remembered it. After that, she ran away, but she let Flagstone go with her.
She loved him.
And that was what I needed. I pulled up every memory I could find in her mind of the wolf, and every feeling that went with it. Pure, agonizing, unrequited love. Her father’s best friend. Her bodyguard. He bought her an ice cream cone every Friday after school, even though Hunt didn’t like her having so much sugar. He mauled the bully who tried to feel her up in class.
I could feel the blush on her cheeks when he told her she was beautiful. It was picture day and she was self-conscious, but Flagstone just smiled and told her she was being an idiot. He let her play hooky that day without Hunt’s knowledge, only for her to find out she had been wrong and it was the next day that pictures were taken.
He’ll never love me. Over the years, it became less of a miserable prediction and more of a fact. It colored every conversation she had with the man and made her close herself off from others. As long as no one knew her true feelings, at least she could be something to him.
John’s control over her snapped, which startled me into letting her go as well. She moaned loudly as I opened my eyes and stared. She was gorgeous, breathtaking even, with so much passion in her expression. Unfortunately, even as she was touching me, she was thinking of him. I pulled away. We had somehow ended up on the couch.
I stood, my pulse racing as I tried to calm myself. She panted, probably still getting her bearings after being under John’s control. She didn’t ev
en acknowledge me; she turned to see the wolf attacking her father.
“Ros!” she called breathlessly, passionately.
Apparently, that was enough to break John’s control over the shifter, because he took one look at her and shifted back. Panting as hard as she was, he staggered to the couch and knelt in front of her. She took his hand and pulled him closer to hug him. When she tried to pull away, he held the back of her neck and kissed her.
“Why did you have to ruin such a good thing?” John asked. “I had a dog and you had a girlfriend.”
“I will kill you, John,” Hunt growled. He still wasn’t willing to hurt Nightshade, especially since Remy and Flagstone were free of John’s control.
I considered the staff in Nightshade’s hand. That was the one thing that Hunt regretted most; using magic to kill. But John had to be killed. There was no stopping someone with that much power. He could make his warden shoot himself, or a jury find him not guilty. He ruined so many lives.
I felt him, once again, push himself into my mind. He was angry. He was insulted that I didn’t choose to be like him. What he didn’t understand was that hate was a form of pain, not strength. Love could be painful, unhealthy, and devouring, but not nearly as often as hate. And there was someone I once trusted and loved above all others.
I replayed every memory I had of Astrid, including the sad ones. It wasn’t an attempt to throw the wizard out of my mind, only to distract him. I felt the wooden cane press against my palms and I was turned. My mind was ensnared, but my body was working.
Finally, as John believed I was a little fish caught on a hook, I changed my mind. I pushed away my thoughts of Astrid and focused on my own disgust for John. I thought of the horrible things he did, bringing up the events faster and faster in my mind until there was nothing but the knowledge that John had to die.
Heat built in my chest and burst out through the staff. What shot from the weapon was like lighting, and it struck the wizard fully… but he didn’t go down.
He stumbled, severely weakened, but it was going to take more than that to defeat him. John had gained power through murder and blood sacrifice. This was a man who couldn’t be scared away with images of blood and gore. He was too strong for me to actually take his mind over. Love meant nothing to him, so bringing up happy moments wouldn’t work.
A thought occurred to me. A dangerous, reckless, foolish idea… But those are the best kinds.
Hunt took the staff from me. Nightshade had been released when I distracted John, so she stood back as if to shield Flagstone and Remy. I opened my mind to John; I let him in, but at the same time, I reached my power out for another familiar consciousness. Distance didn’t matter. I could not allow myself to doubt. Like water, my magic could be everywhere. I had to succeed.
I felt John’s control start to close over me and fill my head with darkness at the same time Darwin’s mind let me in. “Share the pain,” I told my friend.
He didn’t hesitate. He knew something was going on, even if he didn’t know what. Knowledge flooded the bridge between us with a force beyond my expectation. Every moment of his life was a calculation, every word he said weighed heavily with probabilities, every step he took carefully planned and designed to meet the least resistance.
I saw him blow out his candles on his fourth birthday, but not without intentionally analyzing the temperature of the flame, the flammability of every object and person in the room, and the least amount of force in which he would have to blow the flame to extinguish it.
He never ate anything that was more than two or three ingredients per item because he couldn’t stop himself from dissecting it in his mind and pulling up records on where that ingredient could have come from, how it was supposed to be stored and prepared, and what the health risks were if that ingredient were not properly stored and prepared. Holding that up against the minimum wage in the United States, the expensive health care, and the general lack of concern that people have shown towards the health of others in the food industry, the odds were never very good for him.
Most of what Darwin shared was facts, formulas, and language. It was too much, too fast, and the force of it was exhausting and painful. “More,” I told him.
John caught on, realized that Darwin was no match for him, and tried to pull away. Unfortunately for him, there was too much of a stream from Darwin, to me, to him. He couldn’t stop it any more than I could.
John tried to pull up memories of hate, blood, and killing, but Darwin had too much information. He had too much even for all three of us combined, so neither John nor I were able to focus on anything else.
I felt the burning sensation, like a tugging against me as John was attacked. His mind was ensnared like he had trapped the minds of so many others, and his body was unable to fight back. Unfortunately, John was strong enough that he was trying to pull me down with him.
“Stop,” I said, not to John but to Darwin. I had to keep Darwin safe.
But Darwin wouldn’t stop. He knew John was dying and wouldn’t let him go until it was over. Darwin didn’t fear death, but he could find a little enjoyment in making John suffer for the pain he caused others. He wanted to feel John’s life snuffed out in torment, even if it meant his own end.
Hunt’s words came back to me; taking a life was never worth it. Darwin knew pain, but he hadn’t really gotten to know joy. I could heal him and he deserved that. But only if he survives this.
Focusing on the desire to help my friend, I forced a wall between myself and the onslaught of information. The sigils from the book and phrases in some dead language invaded my mind, helping to form and strengthen the wall. When Darwin was closed off to me, it still felt like my head was going to explode.
John’s thoughts were unraveling from the combined physical and psychic attack. His last effort to regain control was to push his proudest moments into my head. I heard his teacher screaming, saw his father struggling to take one last breath, and felt blood dripping down my body.
And then there was a face. A woman’s face. She had soft, warm hazel eyes that were furrowed with hope and fear equally. I saw her from John’s perspective, but he was only three or four. The round, smooth face with high cheekbones, framed by light, sandy brown hair was burned into his mind, while the rest of the scene was vaguely that of a house’s entryway. It looked huge to John.
“We’ll go somewhere safe,” the woman whispered, holding up a small red jacket.
I felt someone take John’s hand and he looked up at the boy next to him, who had dark purple eyes. Vincent.
“No, mother,” he said. He was about seven or eight. “Go without us. We don’t need you.” He was saving her. John knew even then that Vincent was trying to save their mother from John. That was the chink in John’s armor. The only thing in his entire life that he was thankful for was that he let her go.
I drew on that feeling, that one unselfish thought he had ever experienced, and opened my eyes. The expression on his face was of shock. He hadn’t expected to lose. He had never planned to lose. To John Cross, being the most powerful, the most resilient, the most feared, was everything.
I looked away because I didn’t want to see the life in his eyes fade. He had to be alone in his death, like his father was. The handle of Remy’s dagger was in my hand, the blade buried deep in his heart.
John Cross was my father. The same all-consuming power, the same drive to be successful, the same blood was in me. In order to stop him from hurting anyone else, I killed.
I was startled out of my horror as the dagger became unbearably hot. Naturally, I let go, but the heat still spread until it consumed my entire body. It was John’s power. My mind was forcefully disconnected with my body and all I could see was spiders. I saw them swarming every inch of surface in my apartment, not from my own eyes but from hundreds of others.
Then the pain in my body overcame my vision and everything grew black.
Chapter 12
The best way to be woken, in my person
al opinion, is with a kiss from a beautiful woman. In the movies, when a man nearly dies saving the day, he usually ends up with the girl. But that wasn’t how I was woken.
“I will break your fingers if you poke him one more time,” Remy growled.
“He’ll wake up if I poke him enough,” Darwin responded.
I heard metal scraping across concrete and curiosity drove me to open my eyes. I was in a room, about twelve by twelve, that was well lit even though I couldn’t see a source of light. The walls were cinder blocks that were painted a mellow blue. The room had no windows. I was lying on a narrow bed, which resembled a hospital bed. There were two more beds spaced evenly across the room.
Remy and Darwin were pushing a large metal and glass cabinet against the wall to the right of me. Darwin turned and smiled.
“You’re awake!”
“I think so.”
Remy turned and gave me a tight smile. “I’ll get my father.” She left the room without another word. It was awkward between us, and I expected it would be for a while.
“What happened?” I asked Darwin.
“You were in a coma.”
“For how long?” I felt like I slept for a long time, but it was a restful sleep without any dreams.
“Eight days. Henry hardly ever leaves your side, since he still feels responsible for what happened in the courtyard, but he’s getting boxes right now. This was an old storage room, but we’re converting it into an infirmary. And here’s an interesting fact; we’re right across from the morgue.”
“Great. I suspect that saves time if a student dies in the infirmary. How did I end up in a coma?”
“You absorbed John’s power when you killed him,” Hunt said from the doorway. He, Vincent, Remy, and Flagstone entered the room.
I noticed Remy and Flagstone were holding hands.
Flagstone noticed me noticing. His eyes narrowed in warning. It was a very primal warning to stay away from his woman. I looked at Hunt instead, letting the shifter know I wouldn’t challenge him. “What does that entail? Is the wizard council gunning for me again?”
