Mercy Temple Chronicles Box Set

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Mercy Temple Chronicles Box Set Page 43

by Ciara Graves


  He motioned toward the door. The witch told me there was no way out of this journey except going through and facing my past. At the end of it, I would either save my brother’s soul, or I’d have to destroy it. I reached for the door and pressed my palm flat against it.

  Rafael.

  That voice.

  Mercy.

  I frowned and glanced around, but there was nothing near me now. No shadows, just a strange dim light. Had to be hearing things. I shut my eyes and heard her voice again. Then felt a touch on my arm.

  “What’s the matter?” Antonio snarled. “Scared?”

  Mercy was nearby. How did she find me? Her voice and that touch on my arm, that was her too. I had no real way to prove it, but I just knew.

  “No,” I said firmly, her presence giving me added strength to press on and get through this journey. “Not anymore.” I pushed the door open and stepped through. When I came out the other side, my courage faltered.

  “Let’s see how long you last,” Antonio said as he joined me. “Oh, now. This was a great day. Do you remember it?”

  I reached out, running my hand along the nearest wall. It came away covered in dirt, the paint peeling. The floor had rotted in places, and there was a terrible draft rushing through. This was our home when we were growing up. It was nothing more than a shack slapped together with whatever materials my parents had salvaged. We didn’t even have running water.

  We stood in what passed as the only bedroom. My parents’ room. Antonio and I had made do in the small living space, sleeping as close to the wood stove as we could to keep warm. Murmuring voices came from the other side of the door, and Antonio walked right through it. I strained to recall what day I’d come back to as I followed him, passing right through the wood as if it wasn’t even there.

  “Mom?”

  The shock of seeing her standing at the front window was a punch to the gut.

  Her brow was furrowed with worry, her hair pulled back in the single long braid she always wore. Black hair and dark eyes exactly like mine. Her horns were small and curled delicately against her head. She wore a heavy black sweater with a few holes in it. The only reason we all hadn’t frozen to death was because we were demons. Otherwise, we never would’ve survived. She pulled the raggedy blanket from the window and looked out at a street I knew would be filled those who couldn’t find shelter from the winter.

  “Do you see them yet?” a male voice rumbled.

  I braced myself as I caught sight of our dad. His clothes weren’t much better, and there were two boys sitting beside him near the stove. Antonio and me. I was maybe twelve, and that would make Antonio only seven—

  Realization hit me hard, and I shook my head.

  Antonio blocked the door we’d walked through. “No, you wanted to see it, so let’s see it.”

  “This was not one of my failures,” I snarled. “Move.”

  He shrugged and slid to the side. “Suit yourself.”

  I walked forward but was thrown back by a magical force. It sent me all the way to the front door, and I glowered at him.

  “Not my fault. This is your journey, after all, remember?”

  “You brought us here.”

  “Correction, I guided us here, sort of hijacked the potion so you would see what I think you should see but works the same. Can’t leave until you confront this memory.”

  “I do not need to see this day again.”

  “Oh, I think you do. Not sure you remember how it started.”

  “They’re here,” Mom whispered urgently.

  Dad wrapped his arms around us tightly. “Move away from the window. Maybe they won’t bother us today.”

  But they would. I knew who walked down the street outside, knew exactly how this was going to play out.

  Ten mages would be outside. Every couple of months they ventured into the streets to choose new demons to join them. Not to learn magic, but to be their servants. At least that was what they told us, but we never saw any of them again. Ever. There was no logic behind whom they chose either. Men, women, children. They took whoever they saw fit.

  “You remember what we told you boys,” Dad whispered. “Remember.”

  “I won’t let them take you,” the memory version of me told my father. “I won’t.”

  “You listen to me, Rafael. If they take me or your mother, you will do nothing, understand me? It is your duty to protect your brother.”

  “And if they try to take me or him?”

  “That will not happen, not today.”

  “Look at you,” Antonio sighed beside me. “You were so brave then, so naive that you thought you could keep our family safe.”

  Saying nothing, I waited for the sound that would turn this memory into a living nightmare. Mom joined us, standing at Dad’s back.

  Footsteps crunched in the snow just outside our door, and I held my breath, fear consuming me all over again as if I was reliving this moment in time.

  A shout came from outside, and our younger selves jumped. Dad shushed us, holding us closer as we waited.

  “What of this one?” a man yelled right outside our door.

  There was a reply, but it was too quiet and muffled for us to hear. A fist pounded on the front door, and we all jumped. Antonio yelped in alarm.

  “Open up!”

  “Don’t,” I whispered as Mom went to open the door.

  I knew that nothing I did here could change what already came to pass. She opened the door a crack, and it was bashed in, throwing her backward, into us. Dad caught her then placed himself between the three mages and his family.

  “We require a volunteer,” the mage in front announced, looking around with a disgusted expression on his face.

  “You can take me,” Dad said.

  Mom gasped. My younger self growled. Dad shot me a look over his shoulder. I stilled, turning Antonio away from the sight.

  But the mage shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not, this time.”

  “What do you mean? You said you need a volunteer. I’m volunteering.”

  The mage snapped his fingers and pointed. “Take her.”

  “No,” Dad roared and kept himself in front of us and our mom. “You can’t have her.”

  “I will take whoever I need to take,” the mage snapped. “Take her or I’ll take you all.”

  “I’ll go,” Mom said. “You will not touch my sons.”

  The mage shrugged. “That is on them to decide. I only require you.”

  “Mom,” the younger me whispered, clutching at her hand.

  She cupped my cheek in one hand, and Antonio’s in the other.

  “You look after your brother and your father.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she kissed our foreheads then turned to Dad.

  They said nothing, but he held her close. It wasn’t long, then the mages were tearing them apart and dragging Mom out of our home.

  I watched, knowing what would come next. A dizziness overtook me, and the scene shimmered around me as if the environment was suddenly unstable. The door shut suddenly. I waited for what would come next. Antonio was crying, and Dad looked longingly at the door, but my younger self wouldn’t cry.

  “We can’t let them take her,” my younger self spoke up, and a sharp pain pricked behind my eyes.

  Everything seemed fuzzy, but there was no time to question it. I watched myself move toward the door even as Dad went to stop me.

  I threw him off, and there was a struggle, but then I got past him and sprinted out the door.

  “Rafael,” Dad yelled, chasing after me.

  Antonio and I were suddenly outside in time to see my younger self tackle two of the mages holding Mom. Taking them down to the snow. She yelled at me to turn back, but I didn’t listen.

  I crushed one mage’s head with a rock over and over until his blood stained the snow beneath us.

  “Insolent whelp,” the mage in front yelled and snapped his fingers.

  Magic swirled around his hand aimed at my younger sel
f.

  A voice in the back of my mind said this was wrong, all wrong, but the magic flew from the mage’s hand.

  Mom screamed and threw herself in front of me. It struck her in the chest. She gasped out a breath. Dad bellowed in rage, reaching her just as she fell. He shook her, calling her name, but she was already dead.

  “Our mom might’ve lived if you hadn’t let your anger get the better of you,” Antonio mused from beside me. “And our dad.”

  I was helpless, witnessing Dad’s anguish as he picked up the dagger from the fallen mage and charged at the one who killed our mother. He nearly reached him, then the mage snapped his fingers again, and Dad’s body slammed to a stop as if he’d run right into a wall.

  The younger me watched, horrified. Dad was lifted into the air and a tendril of white and gold wrapped around his neck, killing him. A loud crack echoed down the street as his neck was snapped. Dad’s dead body joined Mom’s on the ground.

  The mage turned to me and sneered.

  “Take that as punishment for your crimes, boy, but be warned. If you react thus again, I will take all you have in this world.” He swirled his robes around and led the way down the street leaving our dead parents in the snow along with their fallen comrade.

  Demons exited their homes, coming to console me, yelling and wailing at the loss of my parents.

  “Come, brother,” Antonio said. “There is still much more to see.”

  I heard him but made no move to turn. My gaze latched onto the dead bodies of my parents. They died that day when they didn’t have to all. They died because of my actions. Guilt weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I trudged through the snow to reach them.

  The other demons from the neighborhood grabbed my younger self and dragged him away. I took his place, falling to my knees in the snow. Gently, I reached out. My fingers brushed against Mom’s hand, and a sharp pain exploded in my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to her dead body. “So sorry.”

  I squeezed her hand then scooted through the snow to reach Dad.

  “How touching,” Antonio muttered. “They can’t hear you now. They’re dead, remember? You killed them that day. You and those damned mages you seem to suddenly care so much about.”

  I held Dad’s hand for a minute then forced myself to stand and face my brother. The surroundings shimmered again, and there was a furious snarl in my ears that said this was wasn’t right.

  Antonio was already walking away to a door in the center of the street.

  “What was the point of this memory?” I asked sharply. “What?”

  “You tell me. We’re inside your head, remember? This memory seems to haunt you almost as much as the one where I die.”

  Face it. How was I supposed to face my parents’ deaths? I accepted they were dead a long time ago and used my agony of their loss to move me onward. I expected clearcut answers once I was inside my head, after taking the witch’s potion. But clearly, that was not going to happen. I’d grown up so much that day and learned so much more about where we truly ranked in the world as a race. I’d believed then no one would ever come to save us. That no one would ever see me as anything but a demon. No better than trash.

  Rafael.

  Mercy. The past few months had opened my eyes to how wrong that notion was.

  Mercy saw me for who I really was. She cared for me in a way no one else ever had. There was another touch at my hand, and when a warmth pressed to my lips, I held my breath. She was with me. I brushed my fingers over my lips, frowning. Had she kissed me? Was she that worried about me?

  “The longer it takes for you to get through this, the more time you lose in the real world.” Antonio picked at his fingernails, looking bored.

  “What’s through this one?” I asked when I reached it.

  “The next stop on our journey. Don’t worry, it only gets worse from here.”

  I looked one more time down the road.

  I frowned.

  The younger version of Antonio was nowhere to be found. Had he stayed in the house that day?

  “Are we going or what?” Antonio snapped impatiently.

  “Yeah, we’re going,” I uttered and pressed my hand against the iron door.

  It groaned as it swung inward, showing me nothing, but darkness.

  I hesitated.

  Antonio shoved me forward into the nothingness.

  Chapter 8

  Mercy

  Three hours of sleep was maybe what I managed to get before my alarm went off and I threw my feet over the edge of the bed.

  Rafael was passed out on the couch.

  I crept past him as quietly as I could to get to the bathroom. After last night, my mind was in turmoil over what to do. The feelings I had for him were stronger than ever. There was no point in ignoring the truth any longer.

  I liked the damned demon. The attraction between us was too difficult to keep shoving to the side, and I found I no longer wanted to. For too damned long I kept myself at a distance from anyone that might be able to put up with my shit. Now I had someone in my apartment who handled me just fine. Stood his ground when I pushed too hard.

  “If only I knew how the real Rafael felt,” I muttered to my reflection as I waited for the water to warm up in the shower. “The first kiss was impulse. The second was in a dream. This one… he might not even remember. Excellent timing.”

  My reflection was no help at all. I climbed into the shower, hoping it would wake me up, and stayed under the spray until the water grew cold. When I finally got out, I braided my hair back, dragged on my black pants and shirt, and trudged out of the bathroom.

  Rafael was in my tiny kitchen, rummaging around in the cabinets. The coffee maker was going, and he was grumbling to himself. At least it didn’t appear his memory came back overnight. Pretty sure coffee would’ve been the last thing on his mind.

  “Looking for something?” I asked.

  “Coffee mugs.”

  “Oh, I am fresh out of those actually.” I reached around him to another cabinet, acutely aware of how close we stood to each other, and opened the small door. “Cereal bowls will have to do I’m afraid.”

  “How do you run out of coffee mugs?” he asked, confused.

  “They all broke, and I didn’t exactly have time to go buy more.”

  “Ah, well then, perhaps I should gift you some. A tiny token of my thanks for looking after me.”

  “Not like I mind you being here.”

  He moved closer, and I wished more than anything we could be like any other normal couple. This could be our morning routine. Waking up with each other, having coffee, talking about our days before we both went to our jobs. Came back in the evening, have dinner together. Talk, laugh, watch some cheesy movie on TV then fall asleep in each other’s arms on the couch. That kind of life had always seemed so far out of my reach until this very moment.

  I could handle that every day if Rafael was here. The thought struck me deep as I realized why that could never happen. I killed Todd and lied to his face about it. I lied to him about Liam hurting me. I lied about so much already that when he finally learned the truth, all those feelings he had for me would vanish. He’d see my lies as a betrayal, and I wouldn’t be able to blame him for it at all.

  “Mercy?” Rafael asked, resting a hand on my arm.

  Damn it. Why couldn’t I go back to being the cold-hearted bounty hunter I was before that stupid ball? “Thinking, is all. I have an errand to run this morning, but I need you to stay here, so you stay out of trouble. Don’t want you out in the open alone until we find out if someone did this to you to hurt you. Can you do that?”

  “If that’s what you want me to do.”

  “I do. It shouldn’t take me too long. And you don’t remember anything yet? About where you were? Who you saw?”

  He sipped on his coffee slowly. “Nothing. Wait…”

  This was it. This was the moment it all came back to him, and he lost his shit. I braced myself for it, but then he
sighed.

  “All I remember is drinking something. There was pain before I drank whatever it was.”

  “And after?”

  “After it’s all blurry. I was sitting down, and then I was on the sidewalk talking to you.”

  That didn’t help much at all. “Hopefully Bowen was able to find something out.”

  “Yeah, but maybe it’s good I don’t remember.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My gut’s telling me that whatever I did, I did it for a reason. To get away from pain. Not sure I want that back, you know?”

  I might’ve agreed with him except I’d known him long enough to understand that his past and the pain he endured made him who he was. He was great at his job, and he cared about people. Protected them without question. “Maybe, but our pasts are what make us who we are.”

  “You’ve had a bad past,” he said. He reached out and tenderly held my scarred cheek. “But you overcame it.”

  “Like I said, working on it.” I covered his hand with mine, but this moment couldn’t last. If I didn’t get my ass over to see Damian this morning, he’d show up here. I was not in the mood to explain what Rafael was doing at my place. Or why I was in possession of several very old, very important pages on the Blood Moon. At least Rufus had held onto Liam’s calendar datebook, though I would’ve liked to go through it from start to finish, in case there was something in there he missed. But then again, we’d be seeing him tonight. I’d get my chance then.

  “I’ll keep looking at those pages,” he Rafael said, then cringed. “What exactly am I looking for?”

  “My laptop’s here. You can start seeing what you can find on the Blood Moon.” I willed myself to pull away and again found myself unable to do so. “Or Sector 1462.”

  “I’ll do that then.” He leaned down and kissed my scarred cheek, something no one else had ever done.

  I melted into his arms. He held me close like we’d been doing this for months. His arms were warm and his chest solid against my cheek.

  “I have to go.”

  “You said that already,” he mused, his rumbling laughter echoing.

 

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