by CY Jones
“He’s being controlled, don't kill him,” I explain and the Fae warrior looks down at me like I’ve lost my ever loving mind. Little does he know that wandering bitch has been gone long before today.
“Are you alright?” Oli asks, running up to me. Caster is helping Archer and along with Saber, they hold Berserker off.
“I’m fine,” I wave off his concern. My injury is minor. A little sore throat never killed anyone. “We can’t kill Quinn. He’s being controlled by Morganstein,” I tell him quickly and he has the same reaction as his brother’s Champion at my crazy explanation. It doesn’t help that they walked in on Quinn almost killing me and my voice is now hoarse from him choking me. “Where’s Zion?” I inquire.
“Fighting Violet. She attacked him on his way to the meeting spot.”
“Why isn’t Saber with him?” Why is that dude always jumping head first into fights without his Champion?
“He doesn’t see Violet as a threat. He made sure we got to you as soon as possible. Apparently, Violet was working with your brother and this is a coordinated attack.”
Fuck. How long has Morganstein been planning this to have control over my brother? It had to be after he proposed. Violet, I’m not surprised to hear she’s after me. That bitch hated me from day one. Now that I’m in the way of what she wants, she’ll do anything, join with anyone to eliminate me.
“Help keep Berserker occupied. I’ll handle my brother,” I tell them. Not giving them a chance to argue, I run off in the direction Quinn flew.
He’s just getting to his feet when I get there, and he uses his staff to hold me back. “Quinn, you need to fight this. Morganstein is using his powers to control your body. “
A flicker of recognition sparks in his blue eyes, but as soon as it appears, it’s gone and he’s charging at me. My magic is still attached to his and I focus, attacking the strings, striking against Morganstein’s magic. Everything I’m doing is instinctive and I almost shout for joy when I see it’s working. But it’s a slow, draining process.
“Angelica,” Quinn cries with wide eyes. “I... I can’t fi… fight this,” he hisses through gritted teeth.
I focus my power, channeling it into the strings and the one holding his staff snaps as he’s let free. I’m sweating and breathing hard. That was only one string and I’m beat. Quinn’s staff disappears, but he still comes after me, hitting me with a spinning kick to the gut, which I block with my forearm.
“Please, Quinn, don’t make me do this,” but my words are useless as he keeps coming. I’m not going to beat Morganstein at his own game. I’m new at this and he’s the seasoned pro. If I want to live, I’ll have to focus on what’s unique to me. Realizing what I have to do, tears flood my eyes and overflow down my cheeks, and I sing.
“Got a secret, can you keep it? Swear this one you’ll save.
Better lock it in your pocket, taking this one to the grave.”
His body jerks, Quinn is inside, fighting, but Morenstein is still very much in control. His other hand, the one still being pulled, pulls Digga out it’s holder and he slowly stalks toward me.
“If I show you, then you won’t tell what I said.”
His arm strikes in an arch and I duck before he launches in a handstand, then swings his legs in a wide circle, pushing me back. We’re back to close combat fighting, both of our moves impressive, but through it all, I keep my beat as I cast my spell.
“Look into my eyes, now you’re getting sleepy
Are you hypnotized by the secrets that you’re keeping?
I know what you’re keeping
I know what you’re keeping”
With a jerky movement and a grit of his teeth as he fights for control of his body, his arm goes for my throat again, squeezing with all his strength. “Please,” I choke, but he’s not stopping. He won’t stop. With my eyes, I plead with him, beg. That hesitant look is back and his eyes water, but it won’t do any good. Morganstein is hell bent on destroying me, and without knowing a thing about me, he’s succeeding with the one person that could possibly do it. Using my one weakness against me.
When the black dots form and dance in my eyes, I send my own hand flying to his throat and squeeze. Pushing the last bit of my power into the strings, I sever the one on his arm and once I’m free, I sing the last damning line.
“Two can’t keep a secret if one of us is dead”
Like the puppet Morganstein made him into, Quinn falls lifelessly to the ground, and with a heart-wrenching wail, I fall to my knees as tears stream down my face like a river as it fully hits me of what I have done. What I was forced to do. Quinn’s beautiful eyes blink at me, holding me captive and he cups my face, using his thumb to brush away my tears. “It’s alright,” he chokes. “I forgive you.”
“No, this isn’t fair. This isn’t fair,” I scream to the universe. His hold grows fainter as he draws closer to death. He lifts his head, but it falls since he no longer has the strength to keep it up and I bend down over him, bringing my face to his. He kisses me deeply. Not as his sister but lovers and I give him my all right back, like I could breathe life into him again. This is his goodbye kiss as he prepares to depart this world.
“Angel,” a voice says softly behind me, and I turn my head to Zion, a broken woman.
Every part of me is shattered and in a broken voice, I recite an old nursery rhyme like a spell. “Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again.” My voice breaks and a heart wrenching sob leaves my throat. My body is wrecked with tears and I truly feel like I could die. I want to die. Death would be a respite from all this agony and pain.
“All the king’s horses… All the king’s men… Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again, but.. You. Can.” Yes, that’s it. Hope is a very dangerous tool and it helps piece together the broken parts, gluing each shattered piece of myself together. Zion. My savior. He can undo what was done.
I bolt to my feet. My eyes craze and wild and he takes a wary step back. “Bring him back. Use your power and bring him back now!” I shout. Demand. I’m not taking no for an answer.
Normally, Zion is the king at showing no emotion, but not now. Now, his face looks so sad and I hate it. Hate it with every fiber of my being because I know. I know what he’s going to say. “I know you hate harlequins. Hate my brother, but please. Please,” I beg. “If you have an ounce of decency, care for me at all, you’ll use your powers and turn back time.”
“I can’t,” he answers in a broken voice and I slap him so hard, the sound rings in my ears.
“You can, but you won’t because you hate us,” I seethe. I’m sure I’m foaming at the mouth, but I couldn’t care less. All I want is my damn brother back.
“I don’t hate you, Angelica. I never did. I would do anything for you, but I can’t do this. I can’t alter time and mess with death. The ramifications would be astronomical. To do what you ask comes with consequences neither you or I are capable of dealing with. I’m sorry.”
I believe him, which makes his words even harder to deal with. A loud, ugly sob leaves my throat and he pulls me into his hard body. My body shakes with sobs, and even after slapping the daylights out of him, Zion holds me steady, allowing me to soak his shirt.
My magic in my brother’s body finally goes cold and I look down at his body just as his soul, bright as the sun, floats out his body up in the air until it hovers high above over my head, but instead of floating to the void, a vulture swoops in appearing out of nowhere and at the last second, it snatches Quinn’s soul away. A wicked laugh fills my ears, a familiar sound I’ve heard only once.
“No, this will not be our end. You do not get to win,” I cry out to the night sky. “Death can’t have your body and Morganstein can’t have your soul. Do you hear me? You can’t have him,” I scream like a lunatic.
Pushing away from Zion, I draw a hastily made circle with my foot around Quinn’s b
ody and use the dreads of my power to embune it with magic. After our initial meeting I was uneasy about the creepy spirit I summoned, but I was never able to vanish him from my mind. Having done my research, I know exactly which spirit contacted me, asking for someone to possess.
“Angelica, what are you doing?” Zion hisses.
“Try to stop me and I swear I will slit your abdomen and use your intestines as an offering,” I threaten. Drowning in grief, I’m off my rocker and very fucking serious.
“Oberon, Erlking of Faery, I call you forth. With my life essence,” I say before slicing my palm with my dagger and making a fist, squeezing a steady flow of my blood onto the circle. “I call you forth with a bargain.”
The air chills and the wind howls around me, stirring my hair and making me look more insane than I already am. My eyes glow with that insanity as I break every rule in the book to keep my brother here with me. If Morganstein can break the rules, then so can I. Everything they told me is true. I was sired by a monster and I am my father’s daughter.
“What is your bargain, child?” the wind, no, Oberon whispers in my ear.
“I trade you this vessel to use to get your revenge on the one who wronged you and caused your death until I track down his soul and return it to his body. Then you have to depart, whether you accomplished your revenge or not.”
“I sense such anger. You’re desperate. What’s stopping me from asking for more? It appears you need me more than I need you.”
“Take it or leave it,” I grit my teeth. I’m in no mood for negotiations. He takes his time answering and the longer I have to wait, the more annoyed I get. Any second now, I’ll yank anyone out of the void to fill my objective. I just need someone to keep my brother’s body functioning until I get his soul back.
“Fine, I accept your deal,” he finally answers and with his words, a spark of magic lights around the circle like sparklers. When the smoke clears, Quinn is no longer laying on the ground and is standing on his own two feet, but his beautiful eyes are no longer blue but a blazing green. The eyes of the Seelie King.
“I think I’ll enjoy this body,” he says in Quinn’s voice and it creeps me the fuck out.
“Don’t get comfortable. Once I get my brother’s soul back, I’ll evict you myself,” I growl.
“Happy hunting wicked mage,” he says with a wink before he poofs and disappears. Huh. He must have come back from the dead with his own powers.
Suddenly, my head spins, my vision blurred, and I feel sick to my stomach. I’ve used more magic than I have ever before. I’m certain I’ve depleted most of my mana. That well of power of mine feels so damn empty.
“What have you done?” an angry voice growls, before I’m lifted into the air by my neck and slammed against the thick bark of a nearby tree. I have no energy to fight the angry Fae holding me. My body is stiff and my legs just dangle carelessly as I creen closer to death from the lack of air.
“Rider, put her down now!” Ryker demands, but his Champion is too far gone to comply. Instead, his grip around my neck tightens until it feels like my eyes are about to pop.
Archer shoots a barrage of arrows at him, but they hit a wall of ice Rider constructed. With us both weak and my mana depleted, his arrows bounce harmlessly off the wall and disappear with a hiss before they even hit the ground.
“How could you let that beast free? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Rider growls, slamming me against the tree.
“Stand down, Rider,” Zion orders, but he’s not his master and he’s already pretty much told Ryker to fuck off.
I should be afraid. I’m dying, but I can't find it in me to care. Check me into the looney bin now because, seriously, I belong there with my own special jacket that makes you hug yourself. Despite the lack of air, I laugh. I laugh and laugh, totally… freakin’… gone.
“Rider, I command you to let her go,” Blondie grits out, using one of his command spells and Rider has no choice but to let me go. He gives me a disgusted snarl before his grip loosens and I slump over, sliding to the ground. In the background, I hear arguing, but I’m too tired to even register who it is. Golden flowers surround me before I’m encased in a familiar heat and I snuggle into a hard chest as I’m carried away by my Champion, the movement lulling me to sleep.
Epilogue
Death is Never Final
“She’s been crying in her sleep for days. Should we wake her from the magical induced coma the headmaster put her under?” Blondie asks in an overly concerned voice.
“No, she’s a wreck. It’s best to let her sleep,” Zion answers.
“It doesn’t matter how long she sleeps, everything will still be the same once she awakens. We should wake her so she can deal with it. The more time we waste, the more powerful Morganstein grows, not to mention the spirit she let loose. Oberon is making sure everyone knows he’s very much alive.” This time, it’s Milo who speaks.
I wonder where we are and why I can hear them so clearly. I try to open my eyes, but it’s like they’re glued shut. As soon as my memory catches up to me, a new wave of grief overcomes me and I moan from the pain. Quinn.
“Shh, it’ll be okay,” Oli whispers, stroking my hand.
“She can’t fight like this. Not until the initial grief wears off,” Kirito replies.
They’re all here with me, wherever here is. Why? I threw a fit and slapped Zion, then I lent out my dead brother’s body to a blood-thirsty faery king hell bent on revenge. They should be running for the hills to get away from me, not gathered around by my bedside. I don’t even blame Blondie’s Champion for trying to kill me.
I wish I could say that I’m sorry or that if I had another chance, I’d do things differently because the truth is I wouldn’t. You can’t change insanity. Once it’s touched you, it’s best for everyone involved to stay the course. That is why they need to leave me alone. Go back to hating me and wishing I never came here, because this insanity train may be off the rails but it’s still moving. As soon as whatever power this is that’s keeping me down is lifted, I will go after Morganstein and I’ll do whatever I have to, break every rule to bring him down. I will get Quinn’s soul back and then I’ll boot out a king and return it to his body. With that final thought, I let the darkness take me, but as I drift off, I come to this conclusion. The Mage’s War has begun, and at first, I didn’t want any part of it, but now, I will participate. I will fight, because this war will be the perfect cover to kill my father. I am my father’s daughter, after all, and it is I who’s pulling the strings.
Bonus Scene
Assassin
The Assassin Guild has only three rules. The code we live and die by. A mantra that’s drilled into our heads from the first moment we start training.
Never cross the King of Assassins. He is the only one worthy of our loyalty.
Kill only if we are paid or if our life is in danger and then find a way to get paid.
Never fall in love.
I was young when the King of Assassins found me, a malnourished, dirty street rat, roaming the streets barefoot, begging for food. He took me in and raised me as his own, teaching me the ways of an assassin. By the time I was twelve, I already knew over a thousand ways to torture and kill a man and could efficiently wield over seventy-five different weapons. I was my adopted father’s best pupil and he never failed to let everyone know, painting a huge target on my back that I defended with a fierce intensity worthy of any demon. From the time he plucked me up off the streets, all I cared about doing was learning what I could so that I never end up in that vulnerable state again. No technique was too gruesome. My mind no longer knew what fear was. I was a monster, cold and heartless. Darkness was my only friend. Besides my adopted father, I did not trust anyone. No matter how jealous the others got, I was determined to never get knocked down and thrown back into the streets, no matter what it takes.
When I had just turned nineteen years, a young maiden around my age was brought to the guild and given over to my
father in payment for sparing her father’s life. Even snarling and cursing my father’s name as she fought to get away, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. Long dark hair like a moonless night, skin like peaches and cream, soft curves of a woman on a young supple body full of spirit and life. Untouched by any man and the darkness of the world until her father selfishly gave her over to spare his own miserable life. Her name was Aurora, the only light that could pierce the darkness surrounding my heart. But she could never be mine. She belonged to my father to do as he pleased, and I long vowed my life to him.
I tried to ignore her. Pretend I didn’t notice that with each passing day, the light I first admired in her innocent gaze would grow dimmer or the bruises on her body she tried to hide when she made him angry. I blocked out her screams when he’d get drunk and fuck her roughly, turn my eyes away when he’d beat her bloody in front of us. My adopted father may have saved me, but that didn’t mean he’s a good man. He’s the worst kind of sort you never want to piss off or be the objection of his ire. He has no soul. No heart or conscience. If you get on his bad side, you better run long and far because it’s us, his band of assassins, he’ll send after you, and once we bring you to him, he’ll tear you apart with his bare hands and smile while doing it.
When I turned twenty-one, I was badly injured and almost died on a mission and Father sent her to my hideout to nurse me back to health. At first, she was as wary of me as she had grown of him. I hated that weakness. Hated the timid girl she had become. When I was well enough to sit up, I found my voice and screamed at her, “What happened to the spitfire that first came to the guild? Where did your tenacity go? You’re nothing like the sharp-tongued viper that first came to us.” In answer, she told me that girl died long ago when she realized there’s no such thing as a prince or knight in shining armor, that no one will come to save her.
