Oh God, what would happen to Fee?
“He’s not dead.” Sullivan scoffed as if reading Raiden’s rapidly escalating thoughts. “Jesus, calm down. One of your freak friends came to pick Hickok up a few hours ago. A guy in Union Jack Converse and dressed like a roadie for the Ramones. Zach or something.”
Alder’s head came around with a snap. “Zakkery? Zakkery, of the Smoke House was here? Shit, Kingu’s looking for that guy! That means the whole family’s looking for him. How could you let him get away, Sullivan?”
“Huh?”
The Fire Phases probably hadn’t even explained to Sullivan that he was “family” yet, but that didn’t stop Alder from scowling at the baffled human like this was all his fault. “You know he stole Kingu’s necklace, right?”
Sullivan looked defensive. “Well, if you don’t report a theft, how am I supposed to know about it? And who the hell is Kingu? That name isn’t on any of my watch lists.”
“You’re keeping lists on us?” That distracted Alder from his irritation. “Am I on any?”
“You have your own folder.”
Alder seemed pleased about that. “Oh. Okay then. It’s not totally your fault you let Zakkery escape, I guess. You can’t be expected to know as much as a real Fire Phase, yet. You’re just a human. Don’t worry. I’ll find Zakk and our necklace.”
“What an incredible load off my mind.” Sullivan deadpanned.
“I know.” Alder gave him a patronizing nod. “Anyway, Kingu’s my cousin-in-law. Or maybe my uncle. Our cousin-in-law or maybe uncle, if you wanna get technical.”
“How in God’s name could this Kingu guy be related to me?”
“Because he’s Matched to Hope, and she’s me and Teja’s cousin. Actually she might be my aunt. See Oberon, my great-grandfather, adopted Hope back in…”
Sullivan cut him off. “What are you talking about?”
“God, you’re an idiot.” Alder rolled his eyes and gave up on his genealogy lesson. “I try, but it’s like teaching geometry to a squirrel.”
Raiden ignored them. “Human, did you let a Smoke Phase take Chason?”
He had no idea who Zakkery was specifically, but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t seen the guy in any of his visions and that wasn’t good. He should see all the important variables. Things were changing too fast.
“Let him?” Sullivan repeated. “Hey, his majesty was eager to leave with that guy. They had some kinda business deal in the works.” He made a disgusted face. “Probably marijuana. Damn laws say I can’t arrest people until the actually commit the crime. Otherwise, I’d have locked ‘em both up preemptively.”
“A business deal with that scumbag Zakkery?” Alder snorted. “You have to be Fire Phase smart to get through any kind of ‘deal’ with that bastard. Chase shoulda just hung himself.”
Raiden ignored that assessment. A business deal? Why would Chason go anywhere with a Smoke Phase to negotiate a business deal? Chason didn’t care about business. The Magnet King no longer cared about anything…
…Except Mara.
Raiden’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“You guys gonna tell me what this is all about?” Sullivan asked.
“Hell no.” Alder returned to his paperclips. “It’s way above your head, human.”
Sullivan sighed in a sort of resigned apathy. “Whatever. I’ll just wait and read about it in your next arrest reports. And, by the way, it’s ‘hanged,’ not ‘hung.’ ‘Hung’” is for pictures, ‘hanged’ is for people.”
“Says who?”
“I don’t know. Books? Teachers? Everyone?”
“The fuck you say. Why would it be hanged? It’s a fucking irregular verb!” Alder scowled, personally offended by the rules of English. “Shit, there’s like a million other languages that you could use around here, but noooooooooooo. Your town has to use the one that makes the least damn sense.”
“Well, at least you’ve picked up on the profanities quick enough.” Sullivan retorted. “And feel free to leave my town, if you feel like the grammar is getting too much for you.”
Raiden ignored their bickering.
How had everything gotten out of control? What had changed on the timeline? What would cause Raiden to fail?
He checked his aviator style watch. A red countdown clock was spinning through the seconds at a pitiless rate.
He was running out of time.
Whatever was happening, he had to fix it.
Now.
“I must find Chason.” Raiden stepped back from the desk and pinned Sullivan with a deadly look. “If anything happens to him because you failed to ensure his safety, the repercussions will be beyond measure. That boy is vital to our world.”
“Yeah. Sure. Vital.” Sullivan gave a humoring sort of nod. “I totally picked up on that when he was humming at the light bulb.”
Chapter Five
Her whole power and influence should be used to aid him in gaining ascendency over
these lower elements of his nature…. If there is a spark of true manhood left, or even
the memory of true love, it will thus be rekindled.
Henry C. Wright- “Marriage and Parentage”
The woman who claimed to be Mara was asleep in his bed.
Chason sat on the floor with his back against the connecting door between their bedrooms, his legs bent at the knee and his boots flat on the ground. He methodically folded the note she’d given him, first in half, then in quarters, then in eights, concentrating on lining up the edges of the page perfectly. It was difficult with his hands shaking so much.
Mara is real.
The words disappeared as the paper shrunk down in ever decreasing squares. Only they weren’t gone. No matter how small he made the note, he could still see the simple sentenced burned into his brain.
“Real.”
What the fuck did that even mean to someone who was crazy? Reality might as well have a dragon in one of those adventure books he’d secretly read as a child. The ones with the gallant knights rescuing princesses. The ones that his father had banned from the library as pointless wastes of time. You could look at the pictures of the dragons, the same way you could sort of view “reality” from a distance. Frightening sure, but something long since defeated.
Only this “reality” didn’t seem so gone.
After he’d calmed down from their earlier confrontation, Chason had returned to Mara’s room, panicked that she would be gone. Delusion or imposter or… whatever she was, he didn’t want her to go. He’d been frantic, thinking that she’d vanish the minute he left her alone.
But she hadn’t.
Instead, he’d found the woman sleeping face down beside the bed Mara died in. She’d pulled the linens onto the floor, as if she just couldn’t bear to lie on the mattress. It was only mid-afternoon, but she must have been exhausted, because she was dressed for bed. Her black hair had been spread to dry on the pillow and she wore a familiar orchid nightgown, covered with a thick quilt Mara’s cousin Tonia had made.
Chason had let out a shaky sigh.
It had been like a thousand other times that he’d stood in her room. Every night he’d check on her, at least once. Mara had never slept beside him, but Chason often had the overwhelming urge to see her during in the night. He’d gotten used to waking up and ensuring that she was still safe.
Seeing her like that again was like going back in time.
Her face had been turned towards the window, her hand tucked under her chin. Mara had always slept like that. Long ebony lashes were swept down over her cheeks, her lips parted in a rosy pout. She’d looked so innocent. So peaceful.
So like his Match.
Chason had just gazed at her for a long time, before it occurred to him that it was… cold. He didn’t really notice physical discomfort anymore, but suddenly he’d felt the draft seeping through the stones. It was too cold for the woman to sleep on the floor. Obviously, she hadn’t wanted to be in Mara’s bed, but she needed to be moved
somewhere.
Chason had reluctantly scooped her up into his arms and got to his feet, debating where he should put her. The Reprisal soldiers had occupied various rooms when they lived in the Magnetland. Until Lansing, of the Dust House had revolted and led them all away, anyhow. At least one of their mattresses must’ve been semi-clean. But, he hadn’t liked the idea of putting her in another Phase’s bed. It didn’t seem… right.
There were sofas downstairs that were long enough to sleep on. But, the common rooms had seemed so exposed. What if someone came for her in the night and stole her, again? Every alternative he thought of was completely unacceptable. In the end, only one option had seemed tolerable.
Chason had carried her into his own room.
Mara had rarely entered his bedroom, so it didn’t feel like a betrayal of her memory to allow this woman in there. Besides this way he could watch her and make sure she didn’t escape. It really was the only logical choice.
Chason’s room was decorated in dark grey and maroon, with a gigantic four poster bed in the center. It had looked like that for as long as he could remember. Only now it was dustier and the bed was never made. He’d used to make the bed every morning, even though the Magnet Fortress had employed dozens of servants. His father had insisted on it and it had been part of Chason’s highly organized routine.
Structure and discipline are the cornerstones of greatness.
More lies he’d been raised to believe.
His whole life had been a death march through structure and discipline and doing pointless shit that meant nothing. It just stole time from the only thing that really mattered.
One morning, about three weeks after Mara died, Chason had dragged himself to his feet after a sleepless night and started to automatically make his bed… Only to realize that two minutes out of every day were wasted on this task. Two minutes a day multiplied the sixty-seven years he’d been Matched with Mara was nearly 50,000 minutes. That was thirty-four days. More than a month.
A month of time he could’ve spent with his Match, but didn’t because he’d been making his fucking bed for no fucking reason, at all.
The idea of that much wasted time had left him in a state of near catatonia for days. Since then, he took grim satisfaction in leaving all the blankets in a wrinkled disarray. If he’d been able to summon the interest, he would have destroyed everything in the once neat and tidy room, just because he hated any reminders of his old life.
The woman had made a small sound as he carried her towards the bed. Black eyes fluttered open in distress, as if she hadn’t been sure what was happening. He’d felt her preparing to start struggling against his hold.
“It’s alright.” He’d murmured, although he had no idea why he was comforting her. “I have you.”
He’d felt the tension leave her body at the sound of his voice. “Chason.” She’d buried her head against his shoulder and exhaled heavily. “I thought that…” Her arms came up to grip his neck and he’d felt her shivering. “I just had this flash of someone… taking me somewhere and I couldn’t scream or fight or…”
He’d made a soothing noise, cutting off her fragmented rush of words. “It’s alright.” He’d repeated. “No one will take you from here.” From me. Chason had placed her on the bed and gently smoothed her hair back from her cheek. “You’re safe.” She must have taken a shower, because she smelled like Mara’s jasmine shampoo. The scent of it had made his whole body throb.
She’d looked around, blinking. “You’re letting me sleep in your room?”
He had no idea why that seemed to surprise her.
Mara could have slept in his room from the day she turned ninety-three, if she wanted. Hell, looking back, she could’ve slept there from the first day they met. He wouldn’t have Phazed with her when she was so young, but it would’ve caused him far less stress if she stayed by his side every minute of every day.
She was his Match. A Magnet Phase. And yet he’d spent decades knowing that she was out of reach in the Light Kingdom for vast portions of the year. Every time Kahn would come to the Magnetland to take her away, again, Chason had felt like someone was hacking off a piece of his body. Mara belonged with him. She always had.
Why was he the only one who ever believed that?
“Go to sleep.” He’d said tiredly and pulled the blankets up around her. He stepped back from bed. “I’ll be over there if…”
“No.” Her hand had come over to grasp his wrist and the energy jumped between them, different than it had been with Mara. Bigger and messier and hotter. He didn’t understand it, but it was there. “Don’t leave me.” She’d whispered. “Please. I know it’s an imposition, but I’m scared to be alone.”
Chason had exhaled heavily, telling himself that it was all a trick and a lie and that he should just leave.
“Please, Chason.”
His defenses had crumbled at the soft plea. He’d very slowly sat down on the very edge of the mattress, his feet still on the floor.
Mara had never slept in his bed. He’d always wanted her to, but it would’ve been a complete change of custom for both of them and he’d never been able to come up with a practical reason to suggest the switch. Except for he just… wanted it.
That argument had always sounded selfish and weak in his head. Mara wouldn’t have accepted it, obviously, so he’d never even proposed the idea. She’d been such a refined lady. What kind of brutish Match would pressure her to do something outside her comfort zone?
So, why did this identical woman look so right laying there on his sheets? Why did the sound of his name on her lips send desire rushing through him? He hadn’t felt desire for anyone since Mara died. He’d thought that had been ripped out of him.
Chason had swallowed and looked down at the ground, casting around for something else to focus on. “Do… uh… do you remember how you came to be in the Smoke Kingdom?”
“No.” She’d shifted closer to him. But, since he’d left a good foot a space between them, and stayed above the blankets, that still didn’t bring them even close to touching. “You didn’t leave me there, did you?” The question had been hesitant, like she didn’t really want an answer.
“Leave you…? Leave your body, you mean? No.” How could she even have asked that? “Of course not! Someone stole Mara from her tomb a couple months ago. Since then, I have been doing everything I could think of to find her. I would never have left my Match in that swamp. You were here in the Magnetland –with me-- ever since you died. Mara would know that.”
She’d relaxed, again. “I’m sorry.” Rolling onto her side, she’d tucked one hand up under her pillow and gazed up at him. “Why would someone steal my body?”
He’d tried not to look at her, because she was hypnotically beautiful and it just made everything more confusing. “Because I’ve made a lot of enemies since Mara died and they knew it was the best way to hurt me.”
“So bringing me back was about punishing you?”
A humorless laugh had escaped him. “Punishing me? Jesus, I would do anything to have Mara back.” He’d run a hand through his hair. “Die, kill, pay, beg… Anything.” He’d reluctantly glanced over at her angelic face. “If someone could return my Match to me, they’d own me, body and soul. She’s the only thing I want and I would give anything for her. Every Phase in the universe knows that.”
She’d watched him for a long moment, black eyes damp and bright. “You missed me, then?” She’d asked softly. “Really?”
Missed her? Chason’s vision had filmed with tears, unable to even speak for fear his voice would break. No, he hadn’t missed her. That was like calling a whiteout blizzard a snow flurry. There were no words for the loneliness he felt without Mara. He would have “missed” his goddamn lungs less.
Silence had stretched as he struggled not break down.
Finally, the woman had sighed. “Well, do you have any idea why one of your enemies took my body, just to bring me back to life? And since when do you even have enem
ies? Everyone loves you. You were named Elemental of the Year for three consecutive decades.”
“That was a different time.” Emotionally drained, Chason had pushed himself further onto the bed, staying as close to the edge as possible. He’d leaned back against the headboard and propped his feet up on the mattress, ignoring the fact that he’d still had boots on. “And a very different me.”
“There’s only one you, Chason.”
She had no idea how wrong she was. The Chasons before and after the Fall were two completely different people. Mara’s death had fragmented him into nothing. She wouldn’t even know him, now. All the gentleness and chivalry had been burned from him and he could never get it back. How could a lady –a princess-- have ever accepted all that he’d done? The real Mara would have hated him.
Chason had closed his eyes, tired to the depths of his soul.
Tired of constantly struggling.
Tired of being alone.
Just tired.
His father would have called him weak for not throwing the charlatan out of the fortress. He probably would have been right. But, at that moment, Chason hadn’t had it in him to care. He had just wanted to lie beside her and… rest.
“Anyway, you do have a point.” He’d allowed. “If you were really my Match, kidnapping you and rising you from the dead would make no sense as a revenge scheme.”
“Exactly. It wasn’t about you, Chason. I think it had something to do with me.” She’d chewed her bottom lip. “You know, on the day Daphne gave me the necklace, I thought the same thing that you said earlier. If she was going to go back in time to help someone, why wouldn’t she choose someone more important? Or why not go stop Parald?”
“Because that asshole’s already dead.”
She’d given a surprised gasp.
He’d tilted his face around at the sound and arched a brow.
“I’m sorry.” She’d shaken her head, looking amazed. “I’m just still not used to hearing you swear.”
“I apologize.” He’d said, automatically. Dealing with cutthroat assassins for two years had changed his vocabulary. The old Chason would never have cursed in front of a lady. Even a lying, possibly imaginary one.
Queen of the Magnetland (The Elemental Phases Book 5) Page 9
