Veil of Thorns

by Gwen Mitchell

  Instead, she’d shed her mortality, and with it, a piece of her humanity. She’d seen behind the curtain, glimpsed what she was outside of time and space and identity, and seeing that had changed her.

  Kean could never comprehend her sacrifice or the bond she shared with Lucas, because he was still attached to this single earthly incarnation.

  In that moment, he was very much the broody boy she’d fallen in love with in another story, long ago. The boy who had seen her when she’d wanted to disappear. The boy who had stubbornly—so, so stubbornly—taken on her pain and made it his own. The boy who had fought her demons for her. Literally.

  Like the bull at the end of a long and brutal fight in the pit, it hurt to see him brought low, on his knees, bleeding. But she knew that stubbornness well, and she knew how lost Kean felt, and how easy it would be for him to cling to the smallest scrap of hope. She needed to snuff it out, or he would never move on. Just one, swift, sure stroke.

  Mercy is not always a kindness.

  “Kean,” Bri whispered. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. I don’t want to lose you, but I have to let you go. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, staring at her in disbelief.

  Max whimpered from Kean’s other side.

  The sun had gone down, and the shadows on his face had grown longer.

  He bent over the fire and stared into the coals as if he was looking into the pit of his own personal hell. It went against every one of Bri’s instincts not to reach out and comfort him, to say something to drive that utter despair from his eyes. But she forged on.

  “I’m sorry for what my father did to you. I’m sorry for everything this—loving me—has cost you.” He looked so lost already, but she steeled herself for the final blow. “If I had known how it would turn out, I would never have promised you anything.”

  His face went remote. His eyes dulled, as if covered by a thin grey film. He still stared into the flames, but it was clear he was somewhere else entirely.

  “You have another chance now,” she said, trying to coax him back. “You’ve got another spin on the wheel. It just won’t be with me. I can’t give you what you want. I can’t live a normal life—even a normal Zyne life. Without me, you can have that.”

  That tide was still rising, filling the cave, and it wanted to roil up her throat, but she swallowed it back.

  “I want you to have that.”

  A long, charged silence stretched between them, filled with the lapping of waves and the crackling of logs.

  “Then why are you here?” The words were blunt blades thrown at the ground around her feet. “You’ve made up your mind, clearly, so go. What do you want from me? My blessing? My understanding? You won’t get it. This is a mistake. You’re ruining everything.”

  “Kean…” she reached for him and he jerked back like her touch burned. The dam holding back her tears finally broke, and they streaked down her cheeks in silent runnels.

  “Go. Stop acting like you give a fuck about me.”

  “How can you say that? Everything I did, I did to bring you back.”

  “Everything? Really?” he sneered. “Did you sleep with him?”

  She recoiled from the question as if he’d snapped a whip.

  Kean gave a harsh, brutal grunt of laughter, like he’d been punched in the gut and found it funny. “That part I can’t forgive.”

  More tears spilled from her eyes, but Bri kept her voice level. She would not be shamed for the choices she had made. She knew they were the right ones, but he would never see that.

  “Fine. Whoever said I was looking for your forgiveness, anyway? You gave your life for mine. That was your choice. I gave you back the life you laid down.” She took a sharp, bracing breath. “I guess we’re square.”

  She didn’t wait to find out if Kean had another parting shot. They could spend all night cutting each other with words, slowly bleeding out what was left of the love they shared.

  Instead, she walked down the beach to the switchback path up the hillside. When she was around the first bend, out of sight, she stopped to compose herself a minute.

  She wiped a last tear away and whispered into the shadows, “Theliel.”

  A hand reached for her out of the darkness, and she took it before the rest of his body solidified.

  Ryder bowed over her hand, tiny galaxies dancing in his onyx eyes and a mischievous smirk curling his mouth. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

  Bri stepped close to him, and a vortex of shadows swirled around her.

  “Where to, love?” he purred.

  She closed her eyes and imagined all of her nightmares and regrets floating like scraps of black paper in that chasm deep inside her. She gathered them up and stitched them together with the starlight of her power, the threads of her Fate. Then she pulled them on like a cloak of night sky, and she felt untouchable. Unfathomable. And no longer afraid of the darkness within.

  “Anywhere.”

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  Dear Reader

  Thank you so much for reading Veil of Thorns! I know that for most bibliophiles, our life motto could be so many books, so little time, so I truly appreciate you choosing to spend time in my world. I have several more Zyne books planned. Skydancer Book 3, Crown of Stars is currently slated for December 2019, and the next romance, A Sip From the Poison Vine, featuring Astrid and Gawain, is slated for this fall. Make sure you're signed up for my newsletter if you want updates and teasers before they release.

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  PREVIEW

  TO TAME A WILD HEART

  A Zyne Legacy Romance

  Audrey’s never felt bad about using her magical gifts to survive on the streets, but apparently the witch council has a problem with it. Now she’s trapped in their fortress and forced to study their rules or else lose her powers entirely. Escaping would be much simpler if the reclusive falconer assigned as her mentor wasn’t so disarmingly perceptive and distractingly sexy.

  Corvin would rather tend to his birds and keep out of council recruiting efforts, but when his sanctuary is threatened, he reluctantly takes on a novice to train. Only, Audrey is wilder and more broken than any of the animals he cares for. It will take all of his considerable patience and empathic powers to break down her walls, but the more time they spend together, the more danger he is in of losing his heart.

  Chapter One

  Parkview Sanitarium was the sort of place that reminded Audrey the world had turned its back on people like her. Which was normally fine—she preferred life on the fringe of the “civilized” world—but she’d be damned if she was going to waste one more night listening to the screaming.

  The padded walls of her cell did nothing to block out the litany of bible passages interspersed with baseball statistics from next door, or the tearing fabric, retching, and moaning of her other neighbor, who was trying to chew her way out from the sounds of it. Even with self-inflicted bulimia and a couple of choking episodes, the puker was no closer to freedom than Audrey, who knew how to work the system to every advantage. She’d had enough of their lies and mind games and drugs, their poking and prodding and endless questionnaires. A month in Parkview had been almost enough to drive her crazy.

  Tonight was the night.

  The lights went off at eight as usual, making the sounds o
f her ten-by-ten-foot personal hell seem louder in the all-encompassing dark. Audrey lay on her left shoulder on the far side of the room as the third-floor night orderly made his first rounds. The steel window set into her door slid open. Mac’s crooked yellow grin glowed in the sickly fluorescents streaming in from behind.

  Though her stomach rolled, Audrey shot him her best pissed-off glare and bared her teeth before tucking her face into the musty, rat-piss-smelling corner.

  I am getting the fuck out of here.

  “What, no cussin’ tonight, Miss Taylor?” he goaded. “Shame. You know how much I enjoy washin’ that mouth out.”

  She glared at him, looking bored. He’d only tried to touch her once and he’d lost his two front teeth. It had been worth the stitches in her scalp to send a clear message. Her penchant for violence kept the rest of them from messing with her much. At least not until they were well into a bottle of rotgut. That would be a few hours from now.

  When she made no reply, Mac chuckled and slammed the metal window closed. She listened as he continued down the corridor… boots tapping, keys jangling. That taunting, power-tripping sound made her teeth clench and the hair on her arms prickle.

  He whistled tunelessly to himself as he bypassed the puker’s room. Maybe she was on to something, using the stench of vomit to keep the orderlies off her. The next window down the hall grated open, then slammed shut. Then the next. On he went. When he finally turned the corner and buzzed through the outer security door, Audrey released the breath she’d been holding and hoisted herself to a sitting position.

  “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…” her neighbor muttered.

  You should, Audrey thought. Because no one was going to set a toe into this pit for them. And if the slow, infecting evil of this place didn’t frighten you, you were too far gone for it to matter anyway. They were all lost souls, the forgotten refuse of a society too self-interested to recognize how fucked up it was.

  Never give in, Jack had always said. People will screw you over if you let them, so don’t. Which was why she was getting out. Tonight. Before Dr. Banner came back from the weekend. She imagined cramming his electrodes into his own damn spine the next time he came to collect her for one of their “sessions,” the long needles flaring like peacock plumage, his broken face painting a red smear on the steel door of her room. He wasn’t going to survive another week if she was still trapped here. Self-control was not one of her strong suits. And after she killed him while still strapped down to a table, there would be questions. Too many questions. Too much of the wrong sort of attention. If life had taught her one thing, it was to fly under the radar as much as possible. She was good at that. Mostly.

  Audrey shimmied on her butt until her back was against the wall and closed her eyes, envisioning the eight rusty buckles of her straightjacket. She was usually shit at anything so meticulous, but she’d had nothing to do with her free time recently but practice. On the exhale, she concentrated on the slickness of the metal, the roughness of the nylon, the friction as each of the eight buckles slowly worked themselves free.

  Her left shoulder popped as she was finally able to roll it forward. She bit her lip to stifle a groan of relief, then paused and listened. Nothing but the buzzing of the generators and the limping whir of the ancient fans. Somewhere in the distance, a TV blared. Mac must have settled in for his precious Jerry Springer reruns. The screaming hadn’t started yet.

  She slid free of the jacket and tossed it into the corner. It felt like burying a skin she had shed. She was no longer a prisoner; she was a lone moth, flying the proverbial coop.

  Tomorrow I will not wake up in this shithole!

  The thought helped her roll to her feet with a swiftness she shouldn’t have had the strength for. Since figuring out a couple of weeks in that she wouldn’t trip out all night if she didn’t eat, she’d lost at least ten pounds. She padded a figure eight in front of the door, rolling her shoulders, flexing her fingers, counting out slow, steady breaths. Her hands tingled as they grew accustomed to normal blood flow again, and she itched… everywhere. From god knew what.

  A shower would be the first order of business when she got out. Hell, she’d bathe in a truck stop puddle at this point. Then, a cheeseburger as big as her head, grease and mustard oozing out the sides, followed by a heap of salty fries. A strawberry shake, thick and sweet and creamy…Saliva pooled in her mouth, and her gut twisted.

  Right on time, the screaming started. Faint at first, it swelled like a giant wave, a hundred voices joined in a single song of wretchedness. A chorus of hell’s chattel chiming the hour.

  Showtime.

  Below, above, and all around, steel doors rattled on their creaky hinges as high-pitched shrieks and low, guttural yells echoed through the ventilation shafts. The distant sound of Mac’s boob tube grew louder.

  It didn’t take much to bust the lock loose from the decrepit door. Audrey was surprised at how easily the energy came, as if it had only been squatting inside of her, waiting for the opportunity to be used. One mental push, a loud snap lost in the cacophony of Parkview’s nightly lullaby, and the heavy steel fell open a crack. Green-grey light pierced the blackness of her cell. She held up a hand and blinked as her eyesight adjusted. No alarms sounded, just the normal ruckus. Being stuck in a forgotten trash bin of society had its silver lining.

  Deep, deep inside her, she sought the secret place where her power coiled. It wasn’t in her mind or her body, but in an endless pit removed from time and space, a pit that drew in from her navel and flooded out to her limbs whenever she reached for it. She wound the energy up, coiling it across her shoulders, letting it cocoon her all the way to her feet and fold over her head and face like a warm, heavy cloak. Then she pushed the door open another few inches, just enough to slip through. She was careful and quiet, though she could have walked right past Mac like this and he would never have known.

  Audrey had been thirteen the first time she realized she could become invisible. Turner had come home in a rage that night and started beating on Theresa harder than usual, cursing and tossing her around. Broken dishes and splintered furniture had littered the dining and living rooms of the double-wide. He’d locked Audrey and Tabitha in the back bedroom but had eventually come storming down the hall for them. He and Theresa had argued outside the door for a minute, but then he’d smacked her down and barreled through. Audrey had wrapped her hand around Tabby’s mouth, stifling the younger girl’s sobs as they both crouched in a corner of the closet. She’d pressed her eyes closed and wished and wished and wished that he would not see them. That he would leave them alone.

  Her wish had been granted. He’d knocked the closet doors off their hinges and flung all the clothes aside, huffing and spitting, but he hadn’t actually seen them. Audrey hadn’t opened her eyes, just held perfectly still, wishing, her skin prickling in a then-unfamiliar way, while her foster sister cowered beneath her. She hadn’t opened them again until long after Turner had left to search for them, leaving Theresa pacing as she frantically called the neighbors.

  That had been the first time Audrey realized she didn’t have to stay where people put her and how easily people trusted what they could, or couldn’t, see. Why endure when you can hide? Or run. Or, better yet, fight back. Once on her own, she’d found all sorts of reasons to pull that secret emergency cord inside. She could wish for other things to happen, and they would. It usually got her out of whatever mess she’d managed to land in, though it had snagged her in a few too.

  This time was no different. It had just taken longer than usual to land on her feet.

  Her cell door thunked closed as she leaned against it, gazing down both directions of the grimy hallway to get her bearings. With each thump of her heart, her muscles coiled tighter. The urge to run became harder to squelch. Now that she had a taste of freedom, all the tension and rage she’d buried deep to keep herself from doing something she’d regret wanted to bust out and d
o some damage. To blow a hole through this place. Raze it to the ground until she was standing on nothing but blood and dust.

  Power surged into her palms like an electric charge, but Audrey clenched her fists and steadied herself. A feat because, for once, her body was weaker than the storm inside her. That frightened her but not enough to change her mind.

  Which way?

  She’d been too drugged up every time they’d dumped her here to be completely oriented, but she knew that the security door around the corner to her left was a sure way out—the only way anyone ever came or went. Right past the orderlies’ office. Past Mac and at least two more just like him on the floors below. The thought of scaring the piss out of him entered her mind, but there was no time for revenge. Freedom was priority one.

  At the other end of a hall, a dingy window covered with metal grating hung over an unmarked door with a burnt-out exit sign. Assuming it wasn’t blocked off, that was probably a cleaner escape. She couldn’t stay invisible forever, not and save something to fight her way out if she had to.

  Always keep an ace up your sleeve. Or, in Jack’s case, a sawed-off behind the seat. Audrey had learned that lesson well.

  As the initial adrenaline rush wore off, she was already swaying on her feet, the hollow screams jackhammering at her concentration. She might not have time to double back if the emergency exit failed her, and she had one more stop to make. Dr. Banner’s office had to be on the fourth floor. Take these notes up to my office, he would tell the nurse in order to get Audrey alone. She wasn’t leaving without her mother’s necklace. She’d spent the better part of the day wrestling with her own self-preservation instincts and had finally decided she had to risk it. She’d lost everything else that had ever mattered to her, but not that. Never that.