Triad Soul

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Triad Soul Page 17

by Nathan Burgoine


  “Aperiam oculos,” Curtis said, and then he opened his eyes.

  Three things happened, almost too fast for Anders to catch.

  First, Curtis cringed and threw up his hands to cover his eyes.

  Second, Curtis swore.

  Third, the moment Curtis said,“Fuck!” the overhead lights popped in quick succession, leaving the room dark.

  Anders felt his arm hair lift with static.

  Well, shit. He shared a quick look with Luc, who met his eyes easily in the dark room. The vampire shook his head. He had no idea what had just happened, either. And Curtis never swore.

  “What the hell, Curt?” Rebekah said. She’d flung herself over Kavan when the lights had burst, but was rising now.

  “Curtis?” Luc stepped forward and held Curtis’s shoulders.

  “Too much,” Curtis said, gritting his teeth. “Sorry. Didn’t think. Last time, we hadn’t made the triad yet. This used to be difficult, but… Crap. I dialed way too high…Crap. Ow. Crap.”

  “You blew out the lights,” Anders said.

  “Lapin, are you okay?”

  “Just…give me a second.”

  Anders watched him gather himself. Everything about Curtis was control. One of the reasons Anders had enjoyed their shower so much was that it was the first time he’d seen Curtis let go in any real way.

  Well, other than when he’d obliterated Renard. That had been cool, too, even if Curtis had almost killed him and Luc in the process.

  Finally, after a few deep breaths, Curtis opened his eyes again. He did it slowly, hesitating and flinching like it might hurt.

  When the lights had gone, it had been no big deal for Anders. In the almost black room, Anders could see perfectly well. Demons had great night vision. It was a predator thing.

  But he wouldn’t have needed it to see the way Curtis’s eyes were glowing.

  Thirteen

  Threads of energy were everywhere.

  What the hell have I done now?

  Curtis blinked a couple of times, but nothing changed. It was hard to even see the people around him, and it had nothing to do with the broken lights. Twisting ropes seemed to move through the air, each a pattern of light and color far brighter than anything he’d ever seen with his glasses.

  His eyes were still burning and watering. The first glimpse had been like staring into a strobe light, and this wasn’t much better. It was all too bright, too busy, and too hard to understand.

  The power of the spell whipped through him. Warmth from Anders, a coolness from Luc, and the normal fluttering swirl he was used to from his own ability were all pressing from beneath his skin, especially behind his eyes.

  It was painful.

  It hadn’t been like this the first time he’d worked the spell on his own. Before he’d enchanted the glasses, Curtis had experimented with ways to figure out how to know if other wizards were around him. No spells could be aimed directly at another person, though. Casting a divination onto another wizard was considered a breach of the traditions of magic and counted as an attack, so Curtis had worked his mind at the problem to get to a solution. The spell was aimed entirely inward, empowering the vision to see the energies of the world at play. It turned out the currents of magical energy that floated in the very air and burned a pale silver as they brushed past wizards. As an added bonus, Curtis had learned even more than he’d intended. The same eddies flared a deep purple-blue around demons and dimmed near vampires, taking on a warmer hue of deep red.

  That had been how he’d found Luc and Anders, back when he’d been trying so hard to figure a way to use his magic that didn’t involve joining the Families. But now that he had bound himself to them, and they were in the room with him, the spell seemed to be doing far more than he’d ever imagined it could.

  Unfortunately, he was seeing so much he couldn’t actually make anything out. The lights were so numerous and bright, he couldn’t see more than a foot past his face, let alone which light belonged to which person in the room.

  “Curt?” Rebekah again. He turned to where he heard her and tried to look past all the strange threads and ropes between them and…

  They sort of parted, or at least, his perception seemed to slip between the various strands until he could see the outline of Rebekah where she leaned protectively over the side of the bed.

  “Whoa,” Curtis said. The silver shine around her was beautiful. He was used to the auras being pale and wispy, but she was lit like a torch. Thin streaks left her, fading off into nowhere, like slender threads of silver light had been woven between her and some far-off place or thing. They drifted like strands of spider silk, holding themselves aloft in an unseen breeze. And…

  Curtis frowned. It wasn’t just silver. The effect around Rebekah wasn’t just the tell-tale silver glow of a wizard. He also saw streaks of the deep blue of demon fire. But that didn’t make sense. And…there was a blue thread, paler by far than the silver ones…It was short, and didn’t seem to go far, fading almost immediately.

  “Matthew?” Curtis said.

  “You okay?” Matthew’s voice helped Curtis find him, and once he forced his attention past the rest of the…stuff…floating in the air, he found him. Silver. Pure silver. Bright and steady.

  His head was starting to ache. Okay. However fascinating this was, he didn’t have time to play around.

  “Can you bring me closer to Kavan?” Curtis said, turning his head slightly to talk to Luc. He welcomed the steadiness of the vampire’s hands on his shoulder.

  “Of course,” Luc said, gently moving him forward. The movement made the world of bright streaks lurch in his field of vision, and Curtis had to swallow, hard. He felt tears dripping down his cheeks. He reached up and patted Luc’s hand, and the threads closest to him flared with a burst of light, energy flaring along the silver-and-red thread that revealed itself, strung between himself and Luc.

  Instinct clicked. What these threads were and what they meant finally struck him. They were the bonds themselves. Covens.

  He was literally seeing his own triad. And the connections between Rebekah and her coven.

  Holy crap.

  “This is a lot,” Curtis said to the room at large. His head throbbed, and he felt a wave of dizziness. “I need to hurry.”

  “He’s here,” Luc said, and the vampire took his hand and placed it against warm skin. Kavan’s, Curtis assumed.

  “Okay,” Curtis said. His voice sounded dry, even to his own ears. He was fighting the urge to close his eyes and rub them. They felt itchy and gritty, and the pain was getting worse. He was in for one hell of a headache, he’d bet.

  Trying to focus on Kavan was difficult, like focusing his eyes on an invisible point between two other objects both bright and in motion. It took him more time than he thought it should, and when he finally did find Kavan between all the threads and strands around him, the effect was chilling. There was almost nothing there. The flow of life and energy around the room was avoiding Kavan, like it couldn’t touch him. He felt a dull, aching sort of darkness for the most part. Just like with the first dead demon he’d looked at with his glasses, it was far more than just a lack of demonic, but more a lack of anything.

  Except…

  Curtis squinted. His head ached terribly in response, a sharp stab that made him hiss between his teeth, but he caught a glimpse of something, and at first he wasn’t sure.

  “Guys, can you all step away from him?” he said. “Just for a second.”

  He heard them move away. The loss of Luc’s hand on his shoulder made him grip the bed as another wave of vertigo threatened to knock him off his feet. Had he been wrong? Maybe he’d just caught some of Mackenzie’s healing spell or Rebekah, who’d been sitting so close…

  No. There it was again.

  Silver. Not much of it, but the energies in the air were reacting the way they did when they passed a wizard as they brushed by Kavan’s still form. Curtis tried to focus more, tried to will himself to get a clearer view
of the little flickers of light, but pain lanced between his eyes and he had to clench them shut.

  The spell broke. He shivered once and released his draw from Luc and Anders.

  “Curtis?” Luc’s hand was back on his shoulder.

  “That was really uncomfortable,” Curtis said. He opened his eyes a crack, and shining afterimages were everywhere. Spots in his field of vision were blurry and seemed to twist and distort. He blinked rapidly, but they didn’t clear. “I think I’m going to have a migraine.” The first few times he’d ever done magic, it had been like this. Scintillating scotoma, then skull-shattering pain.

  The door opened.

  Everyone turned at once. Curtis couldn’t quite make out who’d arrived with his messed-up vision, but it looked like three people, two taller than the one in the middle. Two men and a woman?

  “What the hell are you doing here?” A woman’s voice, loud and angry, cut deep into his head. He had to close his eyes. The scent of the woman’s perfume made him want to retch.

  Yep. Definitely a migraine coming.

  “Mom,” Rebekah said. “It’s okay. They’re trying to help. You know Mackenzie and Matthew.”

  “Yes. And I know who they are, too. Why are they here?”

  Curtis put his hands against his forehead. He’d broken out in a sweat. Oh man. Here it came, the pounding of his heartbeat was loud in his own ears. His stomach lurched.

  “I’m going to throw up,” Curtis said.

  Luc pulled him from the room and led him down the hall. They made it to a bathroom but only barely.

  *

  “Are you going to be okay?” Mackenzie said.

  They were outside, and Curtis hadn’t put on his hat despite the freezing air. It felt so good against his sweaty forehead, and if he kept his eyes closed, it was almost relief enough to ignore the increasing pain settling in hard behind his temples and locking his neck up tight.

  “It’ll pass,” he said.

  “Did you get anything?” Matthew said.

  “Maybe we can talk about this later?” Luc’s voice was gentle, but it didn’t sound very much like a suggestion. Curtis definitely didn’t feel up to much more discussion.

  “Probably best,” Curtis said. “Though if you’ve got any ideas why Rebekah has a bit of demon to her, and Kavan has a bit of wizard, I’m listening.”

  When no one replied, Curtis risked opening his eyes. The scotoma made it impossible to see their faces, and everything was over-bright. He squinted at Mackenzie and Matthew. Neither were looking at him.

  “Guys?” He closed his eyes, feeling another wave of nausea.

  Mackenzie sighed. “I don’t think it’s my story to tell. They probably don’t want everyone knowing their business.”

  “Who could I possibly tell?” Curtis said, opening his eyes to glare. He cringed. Bad idea. He closed his eyes again. It was better in the dark, with the winter wind against his skin. He took a deep, shaky breath. He had the urge to yawn but knew full well every yawn would only make him feel worse. He clenched his jaw.

  Mackenzie and Matthew didn’t say anything. He wanted to care, but it was too much work. Sweat trickled down to the small of his back.

  “We’re going home,” Luc said. “He needs to sleep. And you can all catch up again in the morning.”

  “I should go back in,” Mackenzie said. “Check on Rebekah, and see if there’s more I can do for Kavan. Her mom is… Well. I should check on Rebekah.”

  “It was nice to meet the both of you,” Luc said.

  “Likewise.”

  He heard the glass doors opening and closing behind him.

  “Come on, lapin. I can feel your pain. You need rest.”

  He let Luc lead him to the car. He climbed in the backseat, forcing himself to put on the seat belt before rolling his head back. Luc and Anders took the front.

  They drove home in silence, which was a small slice of heaven, and Luc and Anders helped him into the house. By the time they got him into his bedroom, Curtis was doing everything in his power not to cry. The pain was hitting with every heartbeat, and he’d sweat so much his shirt was stuck to his back.

  He let them undress him like a baby, in too much pain to argue. Then he let them put him into his bed. The moment he lay down, the pain seemed to double, and he forced himself back up into a seated position. That helped. He tried to shift the pillows to prop himself up, but relented.

  “Need to sit.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and he slurred his words.

  They helped him again. This time, when he leaned back against the headboard, the pillows made him as comfortable as he could be, given the situation.

  “Is there anything else we can do?” Luc said.

  “Painkillers,” Curtis said.

  One of them—Luc, he assumed—left and came back with two pills and a glass of cold water. He swallowed both without opening his eyes.

  “Just need to wait it out or sleep,” Curtis said. “I need the cool. And dark. Dark is good.”

  A moment later the door closed, and he was alone with the pain.

  *

  Someone was stroking his forehead.

  Curtis came to slowly, with a dullness that felt bone-deep. His jaw ached like he’d been clenching it for hours, and he felt grungy, but the soft pressure of the fingers tracing the lines on his forehead felt wonderful.

  Curtis opened his eyes. The room was still dark, and though he was in his bed, he was propped up a bit, lying against…

  “Welcome back,” Luc said.

  “Hi,” Curtis said. His voice was dry. He swallowed.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Curtis shifted, turning onto his side. Luc had been cradling him, and Curtis winced a little at his own stink. That couldn’t have been pleasant for the vampire, holding him while he was all sweaty and gross.

  “Honestly? Hung over. And I didn’t even do anything fun to deserve it.”

  Luc wrapped his arm over Curtis’s shoulder, pulling him up against his chest.

  “You seemed to have success with the spell,” he said.

  “I did. Too much. It was more or less the same as what I saw from Flint, but Kavan survived because he’s got a bit of himself left. Sort of. I need to clarify how, exactly, Kavan has some wizard to him, but—”

  “What you need to do is rest.”

  “Clock says it’s nearly six in the morning,” Curtis said. “I’ve been out for almost ten hours.”

  “That wasn’t rest. You were in a lot of pain.” Luc squeezed him, a slight pull that drew Curtis up onto Luc’s bare chest. Despite how unclean he felt, Curtis pressed his cheek against Luc’s skin, closing his eyes. “We could both feel it. You said cool would help, so I joined you.”

  “Thank you,” Curtis said. Though it was hard to remember, he did have a fuzzy memory of Luc’s presence now. Sliding into the sheets with him, holding him up, rubbing his forehead for hours, it seemed. “You’re a keeper.”

  Luc chuckled. “I have to leave soon. Promise me you’ll rest.”

  “Mmm,” Curtis said. He was already feeling the pull of sleep again.

  They slept together until Luc slid free, saying daylight was not long to come. Curtis curled up on the pillow where Luc had been a while longer, but the thoughts chasing each other in his head wouldn’t stop.

  Finally, he found his pile of clothes beside the bed and dug out his phone.

  The light of the screen was uncomfortable. He blinked.

  “No more big spells on the fly,” he said, scrolling through his contacts.

  He found Rebekah Mitchell and tapped the screen.

  *

  Curtis found Rebekah sitting in Kavan’s room. She’d moved one of the chairs to make a footrest and leaned her head against the wall. Her eyes were closed, and he hesitated, wondering if he should wake her, but she opened them and looked at him.

  “Hey, Curt.”

  “Hey,” Curtis said. He came into the room and handed her her coffee.

 
She took a long sip. “Thank you,” she said. “You look like shit.”

  “You know, I brought muffins, too.” He held up the bag. “I don’t have to take abuse.”

  “If there’s an oatmeal raisin one in there, I might recant.”

  “Oatmeal, yes. Raisin, no.”

  “Your loss, little man. You look like shit.”

  He stood there, feeling awkward and unsure.

  “Ask,” she said.

  “Pardon?”

  “Ask.” She stretched, shoving the second chair away with both feet. “Kenzie already told me what you saw. Sit down and ask what you want to ask.”

  Curtis took a deep breath as he sat across from her. He pulled out the carrot muffin for himself and passed the bag to her. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  She took another long swallow of coffee. “First, tell me what you saw when you looked at Kavan.”

  He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I saw the same damage I saw when I looked at the first demon. Everything demonic about Kavan is missing.”

  Rebekah nodded.

  “But Kavan didn’t die. And I think it’s because there’s still something left in him,” Curtis said. “He’s got magic, doesn’t he?”

  Rebekah nodded again.

  Curtis took a deep breath. “And somehow you’ve got a little bit of demon to you.”

  “I owe Mackenzie a loonie,” she said.

  Curtis blinked. “Sorry?”

  “We made a bet you’d figure it out, back when she first brought you to our craft nights.” She shrugged. “Not that I thought this would be how, but…You want the whole story?”

  “If you think it might help,” Curtis said.

  Rebekah laughed. “I have no idea how it would.” She rubbed her eyes. “So, my grandfather was an Orphan. Like you.”

  “Okay.”

  “The Mitchell family wanted him because he has a pretty sweet ability with fire magics, and that’s totally the Mitchell thing. He’s a genius with illusion. That means the Mitchells. Of course, they didn’t trust him or treat him like much more than a servant, but they wanted him.”

 

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