by Tenaya Jayne
“What are you staring at?” the murderer asked in a raspy voice.
“I’m looking at your soul.”
“That’s brave of you.” His tone sounded bored.
X nodded. “Indeed. It’s quite disgusting to be honest. When I kill you, I will keep it a while. Maybe it might be useful to me.”
The man’s eyes widened as he looked more closely at X. He shivered and curled into a ball. “I see you. Leave me alone, necromancer. The governor said an hour. I’d prefer to spend it in solitude.”
X backed away and stepped out into the fresh air. He took a few deep breaths to clean out his lungs and strode away from the village into the cover of the nearest trees. Alone, he leaned against a trunk and closed his eyes. How did he feel? He’d done it. He wasn’t judge or jury, victim or accuser. He was the boatman. He was the catalyst. And for the moment, at least, he was okay with that.
He raised his right hand up and pulled his glove off, so he could look at the soul inside the stone. He hadn’t taken much time to really look at it before. It had a similarity to the one inside the man still waiting to die, but the darkness was less. Struck by inspiration, X removed his left glove as well and put his hands together. Focusing his power on the soul, his left hand pulled from his right. The stain on the soul went into the stone on his left hand, leaving the soul itself scrubbed clean, on his right. He smiled, energized that his idea had worked.
He put his gloves back on and the jacket’s hood back up before going back into the village. He stuck to the outskirts, waiting for the hour to run itself out. He headed toward a stable, his mind moving onto the idea of possibly buying a horse after he was paid, when he caught sight of Troy, approaching the same stable from the opposite direction.
What was he doing here? It all slammed into his stomach again. The hurt and rage of his betrayal. X saw red, dropped his axe and charged at Troy. Caught off guard, Troy’s eyes bugged as X grabbed him by the throat and shoved him against the outside wall of the stable. He lifted him off his feet, bearing down on his windpipe. Troy clawed at his hold, and kicked his feet.
X’s hands lit up. He was going to kill him right there. He was going to pull his soul straight out of his body. Troy’s soul moved up toward the pull of his hands. X’s vision clouded over and a rush shot through him. His power flashed a split-second warning and a promise. He remembered Maggie’s words. If he did this, his power would go dark, and there would be no redemption for him.
X let go, blowing out a breath as he realized the terrible cliff he’d almost jumped off. Troy fell to the ground, coughing. He looked up at X standing over him. There was no recognition in his eyes.
“Who are you?” he hissed roughly, holding onto his abused neck.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he reared back and punched Troy as hard as he could in the face. Troy fell backward, knocked unconscious, and X spit on him before turning and walking away. He picked up his axe, experiencing a sense of closure. The past, so vivid and painful, now faded dull. He closed up his feelings about Troy and Isolde and sealed them. They were nothing now, except tutors who taught him to not trust.
The sound of the crowd in the square let him know when it was time for his second execution. He put his mask on before walking through the crowd to the platform. Everyone parted and backed away from him. They whispered fearfully as he passed. Johnston stood next to the criminal, who was bloodied and tied to the block.
The governor began speaking to the crowd, riling them up. X wasn’t listening. He worked to regulate his heart rate and his breathing. All eyes were on him as he climbed the stairs and stood behind Johnston. He moved aside and gestured for X to come forward. He stood over the man, his hands tightening on the axe handle, his muscles pulling taut. He took a deep breath about to swing when something caught his attention.
A sweet smelling gust of wind seemed to ripple in the air in the back of the crowd. He squinted, seeing and still not seeing someone appear out of nowhere. She was insubstantial and flashed in his vison like a trick of the light. She looked him straight in the eyes. Trapped and transfixed, his pupils dilated. He caught the hint of a smile on her lips, but it was hard to be sure. He could barely see her. Then as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone.
He blinked.
Everything around him came back into focus. The crowd, the criminal, and his axe. It happened fast. Just the blink of an eye. The people cheered as the head rolled away from the chopping block. X did what he had before. He grabbed the soul as it rose out of the body, storing it in the stone.
Johnston slapped him companionably on the shoulder and handed him a leather pouch of gold coins.
“I’ll come the first day of every week to see if you have need of my services,” X told him.
“That will work fine,” The governor agreed. “Thank goodness you showed up today.”
He left the village as quickly as possible, wishing he could find the girl, and wondering if she was some kind of ghost. He wanted to see her clearly, for what he’d perceived of her, slight as it was, she was very easy to look at. Haunting and disarming.
He arrived back home in the late afternoon. Maggie was pacing back and forth agitatedly. As soon as she saw him, she bounded up to him.
“I watched some, but oh, how was it? How do you feel? Are the stones holding the souls? Do you think you’ll go back? Who was that guy you choked?”
X laughed. “Calm down. I’ll tell you everything. I’m starving though.”
She was bouncing on the balls of her feet. “There’s food. Eat fast! I have to know everything.”
He had the ornery desire to eat really slowly just to torment her, but she was putting so much pressure on him to hurry up, he took pity on her and ate quickly. He told her everything. Every detail because she wouldn’t settle for any less. He took off his gloves, and the harnesses that held the stones against him palms, so she could look at them closely. He explained how one side held the evil stains and how he’d managed to separate them from the souls. She stared at each one in turn, but she refused to touch the one that held the stains.
“Are you in pain?” Maggie asked.
“No.”
“Emotional pain?” she pressed.
He took a deep breath and mulled it over, thinking about how he felt. “Well, being an executioner…It’s weird. I know I’m going to have to center myself often on how I feel about it.”
“And running into Troy?”
X shrugged it off. “It’s over. It felt good to rough him up. But if Isolde presented herself to me now and proclaimed undying love for me, begged me even…” He made a sour expression. “I’d rather cozy up to a snake. She’s hideous to me now.”
He got up and cleared away his dinner plate. Stored his axe inside the house and changed his shirt. When he came back to where Maggie was still sitting, she gave him a funny look.
“What’s with that goofy grin on your face?” she asked.
X touched his mouth, not realizing he’d been smiling. “I don’t know if it was real, or just my imagination, but I saw a girl in the crowd today…she…it was like she flashed out of nowhere. She smiled at me and then disappeared…what? Maggie, what is it?”
Worry filled her eyes. “What did she look like?”
“I hardly know. She was like a ghost.”
Just as he said it, the air rippled as it had earlier, and there she was, standing ten feet away. Both he and Maggie jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of another person. She wasn’t ghostlike now. She looked at Maggie for a second, then her gaze settled on him. Her eyes shot an arrow right through his heart. He gaped at her, open-mouthed. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And creature was the word that seemed to fit. The tops of her ears were pointed and her large almond-shaped eyes were grey, rimmed with a tiny band of red. A riot of wavy black hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her hands were covered in pulsating red light. And she wore very strange clothes. Clothes made for utility, like a man’s.
She
made no move forward, she just stared intensely at him. X glanced at Maggie, unsure what to do, shocked when Maggie remained silent.
He held his hands out to show her he meant her no harm. Her gaze darted to his hands, and she smiled. She was so gorgeous. He didn’t even have words adequate to describe how lovely she was to him. I’m dying. X thought.
He swallowed hard. “Hello.”
A flash of pain came into her eyes.
“What’s your name?”
She didn’t answer. She began walking straight at him. X couldn’t move, he glanced quickly at Maggie for help, but she only backed away. He looked back as she strode aggressively into his space. He stepped sideways, and they began circling each other like enemies preparing to fight.
“What do you want?”
She held one finger up to her perfectly full lips in a shushing motion. Small lightning strikes flashed and snaked over her hands and forearms. As he looked at her, unconsciously, his hands woke up and began glowing cold and ravenous. Before he could think to step away from her, she grabbed both of his hands in hers, lacing her fingers through his, so their palms touched.
X choked on his breath as her power rushed into his hands. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he moaned. His power tangled and mixed with hers. He’d never experienced anything that felt so good. Just holding her hands was devastating, overwhelming, and nothing short of erotic.
She let go of his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist. Again he couldn’t move. I’m dreaming. There’s no way this is actually happening. He thought as her lips brushed the side of his neck. He almost stumbled sideways as her teeth sank through his skin. Pleasure exploded in his head as she pulled his blood into her mouth. He thought he might pass out, the sensation was too intense for him.
She pulled away and took a step back, blood on her lips. Her eyes were wide, and she looked as shaken as he felt. She turned and ran a few feet away, grabbing at nothing in front of her.
“Wait!” he called, but she was gone.
X stared at the place she’d just been, his heart thrashing under his ribs. He turned around, looking for Maggie, adrenaline coursing all through him.
“Did you see that? Did you see her?” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I had no idea what she was going to do. I don’t even know what she was. But…My gosh…Did you see her?” He was out of breath, like he’d just run a great distance.
Maggie came close to him and looked at his neck. “She bit you.” Her tone was incredulous.
He smiled so broadly it felt like his face would break. “She did more than that. She tore my heart straight out of my chest and took it with her.”
Maggie raised one eyebrow and shook her head. He looked back at the place the girl had vanished from and stared at it for a few moments.
“Wait! Maggie! She’s the storm you’ve been talking about! Isn’t she? She’s the storm.”
“Yes, X. She’s the storm.”
Chapter Seven
Tesla landed in her bedroom and sank straight down to the floor, her legs out in front of her as she leaned against her bed. Shivers rolled through her over and over like waves on the sand. His blood was still in her mouth. She hadn’t swallowed. She closed her eyes, looking at him in her mind. The shivers turned warm. She shook herself. First things first. She swallowed, prepared to allow her body to analyze his blood, but she couldn’t ignore the taste. She disliked blood, always. But this flavor, she’d gladly sample anytime.
The next second, Tesla coughed, grabbing at her throat. It burned. All the way down, it burned like acid. She got up and rushed into the kitchen for a drink of water. A tremor vibrated down her neck as she drank, then the pain was gone. She slunk back to her room, puzzled over her physical response to the blood. Standing in front of her mirror, her cheeks flushed as her body temperature fluctuated like she had a fever. The pulsing red on her hands faded into a pale pink and the pain eased. She took a deep, shaky breath as everything inside her, all the disorder, settled.
Her pulse began to race as a small seed of hope began to bud. She swallowed, stepping closer to her mirror, so her breath fogged it as she exhaled. She licked her lips and attempted…
“Hehhloowwn,” startled by her own voice, her heart raced faster. “Hello.”
Tears blossomed in her eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hands. It was nothing more than a whisper, but she actually spoke!
“Ieeh aam Sestlah.” She cleared her throat and tried the words again and again until they were clear. “I am Tesla.”
She tried every word she could think of but in a matter of minutes, her new ability began to degenerate. The pain and wildness of her magic came back, and her voice sank back into nothing, until she couldn’t hear it anymore. The cruelty of it was beyond any heartbreak she’d ever felt.
Forest awoke suddenly, unsure what had roused her, but her hair stood on end. Tesla needed her. She got up and rushed through the dark house to her daughter’s room. She didn’t bother knocking. Tesla was curled on the floor in the fetal positon, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. Forest sank down and pulled her into her arms as if she were a small child. Tesla grabbed onto her desperately. They stayed like that for a few minutes. Forest smoothed her hand over and over the back of Tesla’s hair.
“What is it?” Forest asked. “Are you hurting so much you need to go see your grandfather? It doesn’t matter what time it is.”
Tesla pulled back, shook her head, and wiped her eyes. I spoke. She signed. Just now. Here in my room. I spoke. But now it’s gone. My voice is gone!
Forest frowned.
You don’t believe me!
“I didn’t say that.”
Sure you did. It’s all over your face.
“How did you do it?”
I think it was the blood. I drank… She hesitated looking fearful. I drank human blood.
Forest closed her eyes, trying to not be angry. “Are you addicted to it? I know you’ve been jumping at night. You’ve been going to Earth, to get human blood?” Syrus was going to lose it over this, given his own history of addiction. Forest thought.
No. Not Earth. It was somewhere else. Another human world. I’m not addicted. This was the first time I’ve tried it. How do you know I’ve been jumping?
Forest rolled her eyes. “Tesla, please. I’ve known you were jumping at night since you started…So you think the blood gave you your voice?”
I’m not sure. But I think so. Is that so crazy?
Forest pursed her lips, and then shook her head. “No. It’s not crazy at all. A few years ago your father had a similar circumstance. When he was blind, if he drank human blood, his sight would come back for a short while. But you can’t go down that road, Tesla. I don’t care how it makes you feel. I won’t let you become a blood junkie.”
Tesla looked down and nodded. I’m sorry, Mom. I understand your concern. I promise to be careful, but I can’t promise you anything else.
Forest sighed through clenched teeth, a tear sliding down one cheek. She opened her mouth, then closed it again shaking her head. She got up off the floor and made to leave the room. She paused at the door and looked back at her daughter, still sitting on the floor. “I love you more than anything. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing I wouldn’t give up. I’m willing to have you hate me, if that’s what it takes. But you’re right. I can’t stop you from doing anything. You’re too powerful.” She closed the door behind her.
Tesla blew out a breath, feeling sad and at a loss about what her mom said. She closed her eyes and tried to refocus. The effect the blood had on her had vanished, now she needed to dissect and learn what she could about his blood and what it could mean possibly for the blood lock. Since it was in her system all she had to do was look at it in her mind. She could see everything there, down to the insides of his cells.
His magic was interesting. It was new to him, and it had wrapped around his genetic makeup. She had only ever seen this type of mutation before, and th
at was her own. Hers was the opposite of his. She was naturally magical, the poison that entered her in utero had been what wrapped around her genetic makeup. She looked at the shape of his DNA. It was… almost…excitement flared and then fizzled out just as fast. The missing element in the blood lock, this shape was almost a perfect match, but almost wasn’t going to work. How could it be so close to right?
An idea came to her. She needed to go back. She needed more of his blood to work with. The prospect of seeing him again made her feel a nervous flush. Touching his hands had been amazing. It was such a perfect feeling. Balance and wild ecstasy, with no pain. His magic protected him from her power. She couldn’t hurt him with her hands, and he couldn’t hurt her. He made her feel good.
Aside from that—and it was hardly a side thing—was the way he looked. Tesla was used to seeing beauty; everyone she knew was beautiful in their own way. It wasn’t that he was more beautiful, but she’d never seen someone she liked the look of as much as him. His coloring was cold. White blonde hair and ice colored eyes. When she’d wrapped her arms around his waist she felt how solid and strong he was. He was pretty without being the slightest bit feminine. She closed her eyes and imagined him standing right there in her room. She reached up and touched his face…She shook herself, the fantasy fading.
Her eyes would never be satisfied again, unless she was looking at him.
Tesla stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling unsure of herself. She was used to people telling her she was beautiful, but she didn’t see it. Did he think she was? She hoped. An odd desire hit her hard. She wanted him to long for her. She wanted to haunt his dreams and torture him with craving for her. She’d never felt such a thing before.
This was bad. Thinking about him in this way, whatever his name was. She needed his blood, possibly his cooperation, maybe his power to help save her world. Crushing on him was a bad idea. He was human, and perhaps a bad person. She’d seen him execute someone, but that was plainly his job and not an act of passion. Odd profession. But… he was screwed up like her, she argued with herself. And he was smoking hot, so if she could get him to work with her, looking at him was just an added bonus.
