Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1) (44 page)

78

EMBER

S
he was ten minutes early. She stood outside the school, wiping her shaking palms against her jeans. It seemed a bitter sort of irony that this is the place they’d chosen to battle it out. She’d always found school intimidating, a dangerous labyrinth she was forced by law to navigate five days a week. In New Orleans, it was awkward stares and whispers about her appearance. Here it was actual threats of violence and death. She honestly wasn’t sure which was worse.

The doors to the main hall suddenly looked more intimidating than a maximum security prison. Behind those doors was nothing but darkness. Of course, they’d killed the lights. She took two steps forward before she lost her nerve again. Just do it, Ember, she thought. She took a deep breath and stepped through the doors.

How had it come to this? She had always just wanted a place she belonged. She’d wanted a family. She’d wanted to be normal. She leaned against the now closed doors, blinking her eyes, needing them to adjust to the darkness. Why couldn’t that have come with her superhuman powers? She fumbled with her phone, jolting when her flashlight app flared to life, blinding her.

She swept the phone back and forth, half expecting for a lumbering monster to come bolting from the shadows. Her heartbeat slammed against her ribcage, offbeat and stuttering like she’d had too much caffeine. She wanted to turn and run. She couldn’t do what they wanted. Nobody could.

Her footsteps echoed like gunshots in the empty hallway, holding her phone before her like a talisman hoping it would somehow ward off the anxiety ratcheting higher with every step. Would anybody notice she was gone? Would anybody come to look for her? They wouldn’t even begin to know where to look. Could they track her scent?

She was such an idiot. She was holding her cell phone. They had said not to tell anybody but what else would they say. She didn’t want to get anybody hurt but she couldn’t do this alone. She stopped and pounded out a text on the keys, making her words as succinct as possible. She hit send and quickly deleted the text.

Tristin and I are at the school. Witches. Help.

She hoped she didn’t just get her cousin killed. She was afraid for her cousin but a thought nagged in the back of her head. Was Tristin really in danger? She had gone to a great deal of trouble to bring Quinn back once. Had this been her and Astrid’s plan all along? She licked her bottom lip as fear clawed at her lungs. Could Tristin have set this whole thing up? Would she knowingly sacrifice Mace to save Quinn?

She took two steps forward, stumbling in the dark. Her hand shot out blindly to steady herself, landing on the warm metal of the lockers. As she walked, she dragged her hand along the metal, using them to steady herself.

Sweat trickled from her hairline and slid down her spine. Somebody had turned the AC off or maybe it was off for the holidays. She pushed damp hair away from her face, recoiling as a foul scent hit her. The smell of copper clung heavy in the air, so thick she could taste it. Slowly, she turned her flashlight towards the floor, dreading what she’d find. Along the floor, a rust colored smear stained the linoleum as if something was dragged down the hall and around the corner.

That was blood. That was a lot of blood. Could somebody lose that much blood and live? Mace couldn’t die but Tristin could. She didn’t want to think about whose blood that was. This time when her magic came to the surface she didn’t even try to stop it. She welcomed the feeling. Instead of slithering just under the surface, it curled around her, swaddling her in a hazy warmth, temporarily dampening her anxiety.

On some level, Astrid had to know Ember wasn’t capable of doing what she asked. Astrid wasn’t crazy like Stella. She had to be able to see reason, right? She swallowed as a thought had her frozen in her tracks. What if Tristin was already dead? What if this was simply a trap? What if this was Allister all along?

She had to try though. She had to believe Tristin was alive. Besides, they still had Mace. She let her thoughts linger for just a moment on those quicksilver eyes and that predatory smile. It would serve him right if she left him there. She couldn’t believe he was forcing her to do this alone.

All he had ever done was tell her she’s not ready and now he needed her to save his stupid ass and she wasn’t ready. She so wasn’t ready. What if she killed everybody…again? Why had he gone so far away? Why had he listened to her when she told him to leave? He said he’d be close. He lied. All he ever did was lie.

She wanted to be brave. She really did. She wanted so badly to be the hero she’d thought she could be just a couple of weeks ago. Before she knew what her magic did; what it was capable of. Heroes didn’t die. All the books and movies said so.

But she wasn’t the hero, she was the villain responsible for an entire town’s unhappiness. A villain who was a crying, sweaty mess with snot running down her face. She had done everything wrong and now more people were going to die.

She wiped her face with her shirt. Breathing in and out, in and out. Sparks shot from her fingertips. She had to get it together. She had to do this. She had to go in. She couldn’t be the reason that anymore people died. She looked at her phone. She was out of time.

She grabbed hold of the door handle and pushed, stepping through the doors and stopping short. The scene before her was like a horror movie. Six figures stood shrouded in blood red robes, faces cloaked in shadow. A thousand candles lined the bleachers of the gymnasium.

Once upon a time she probably would have laughed at the theatricality of it all. Maybe even made a snarky comment about it. Not anymore.

Somebody had painstakingly painted a large circle in the center of the room, that same brownish red blood from the hallway, a dozen runic symbols embellishing the inside. She shuddered as she contemplated the amount of blood required to make something that big, that elaborate.

Mace sat in the center of the circle. A noise escaped her at the sight of him. He wasn’t tied up but he sat unmoving, head down, blood pooling beneath him from a wound Ember couldn’t see. Tristin was nowhere in sight.

The doors clattered shut behind her and she jumped with a yelp. All eyes turned to her and a figure stepped forward from the shadows, pushing back the hood of their robe. Astrid. Ember felt herself relax just a bit. It wasn’t Allister. There was the slightest chance Astrid might see reason.

It wasn’t Astrid who spoke however, but Stella, stepping forward from behind her. “Excellent, you showed. I knew you would come for one of them, though for the life of me I can’t imagine why. Astrid didn’t believe me but I knew. It’s kind of sad, really.”

Ember searched the room for any sign of her cousin her fear turning to anger when there was no sign of her. Her sudden anger caused a ripple in her magic and Ember let it ride. If that melodramatic bitch touched one hair on her cousin’s head she was going to personally rip her fingernails out. She could reason with Astrid but there was no reasoning with Stella. She was insane.

The girl stood, patiently waiting for a reaction like a true psychopath. Ember didn’t take the bait, gaze tugging back to Mace. She knew this would be easier for them if she was mad, but they couldn’t begin to know how little control she would have if she let her power go unchecked. The last thing they wanted was to see Ember when she lost control.

She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, imagining herself sitting with Mace in the woods. Trying to remember the way his hands would run up and down her arms, how he’d whisper for her to just focus on him. Why was he here? They couldn’t kill him. Was he part of their plan all along or had they seen an opportunity and taken it? Had she done this to him? She angrily swiped at the tears on her cheeks. Where the hell was Tristin? She prayed this wasn’t all for nothing. Please don’t be dead, Tristin, she begged silently.

“Astrid, what are you doing? I can’t do what you want. I don’t know how. I’m not a witch.” Astrid set her jaw, looking to the floor. Ember took a wobbly step forward. “I know you get that. I know somewhere deep down you know what you’re asking of me is impossible. I would do it if I could but he’s gone. He told me he’s happy. He said he’s with your mom.”

Astrid’s head snapped up then, “You’re lying. You shut the hell up.”

Stella stepped forward, putting a comforting hand on her friend but saying to Ember, “We can do this one of two ways, one, I drag your cousin out here and we all watch while she cuts out her own organs one by one until she dies, or two, you can do the spell exactly as we tell you and we all win.” She looked at Mace, face falling in mock sadness, “Well, except your little soul eater boyfriend, I’m afraid his role in this production has come to an end.”

Ember’s hands sparked and she clenched them into fists, “Why are you doing this? You know better than to mess with this sort of thing. Tristin had to have told you what happened last time? What I did.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “We don’t have time for this. Search her and let’s get started.”

Astrid looked uneasy but resigned, “Ember, you’re out of options.”

79

TRISTIN

T
ristin woke to tearful shouting, head pounding and mouth so dry she had to peel her tongue from the roof of her mouth. It took her a minute to remember. Her hand went to where Tate hit her, wincing at the tender spot. Allister had sent him to kidnap her. She lurched to her feet, only to have her arm snagged. She tried to keep her feet under her as her assailant dragged her a short distance before shoving her back to the floor. She hissed as pain shot through her shoulder.

This time she moved slowly, struggling to sit up. They were in the school gym. Was that Mace? He sat, head down, hands hanging limp at his sides. Shadows flickered over the walls, candles the only light. She hoped nobody had to read for this little ritual or they were all in trouble. She doubted anybody had bothered to consecrate a flashlight.

She heard Ember’s voice then, shaky and tearful, pleading with somebody. Tristin blinked to clear her vision wondering absently if she had a concussion. She expected to hear Allister’s voice echoing in the empty gym but instead it was just Astrid…and Stella.

Astrid was really going through with it. She pushed down the momentary elation she felt. It wasn’t real. The ritual couldn’t work…but what if it did, a voice whispered in her head. What if she could have Quinn back? A thousand butterflies fluttered in her chest. They were quickly squashed as she watched one of the hooded figures shove her cousin into the circle of what Tristin could only assume was blood.

Astrid noticed her then. “Oh, good, you’re awake. Glad to see you made it for the show.”

“Astrid,” Tristin said. “Maybe everybody’s right? This isn’t going to work.”

Astrid looked at her like she was stupid. “Why? I have everything I need for the spell. I have the necromancer, the blood, the bone, the ingredients,” she pointed at Mace, “and the empty vessel.”

Tristin’s eyes darted to Mace and then to Ember who looked at them in confusion, “Empty vessel?”

“There was no way my father would have left Quinn’s body intact. I took what I could but his soul needs a body.” She pointed at Mace. “His body has no soul. It’s kismet.”

“No,” Ember said, face contorting. “No. You want me to jam Quinn’s soul into Mace’s body? You’re sick.”

“No, I’m practical. I really don’t understand your fascination with this…creature.”

“I n-need him,” Ember told them. “I can’t control my magic without him. Do you have any idea the damage I could do? Do you understand what I’m capable of?”

Tristin couldn’t do this anymore. She liked her cousin, hell maybe someday she’d grow to love her but she was absolutely clueless. This whole time the information was right under Ember’s nose and she just wouldn’t see it. All anybody had to do was look at Mace’s condition to know how wrong Ember was.

“Don’t be stupid, Ember.” Tristin said, all eyes swinging to her. “Don’t you get it? Even now he’s lying to you. He had the opportunity to come clean about everything but chose not to.”

“What do you mean?” Ember asked, shooting Tristin a look so filled with dread it made Tristin’s heart hurt. She stuffed the feeling away. Ember needed to know this.

Tristin pulled herself to her feet, shuddering as she swayed, “Meaning you don’t need him.” She took two steps forward. “He needs you. Do you understand? He’s the parasite and you’re the host. Your magic controls him. Your magic feeds him. You order, he obeys. Your magic bound him to you like a slave.”

Ember shook her head, “You’re wrong. I can’t control my powers without him.”

Tristin growled in frustration. “Look around, Ember. You are controlling your powers and it’s not because he’s here, it’s because you’ve had control all along.” Ember stared at her, mouth agape but Tristin charged on. “Outside the tattoo parlor, your magic started to spiral out of control but as soon as you were distracted, poof, it disappeared. You’ve had control this whole time. The binding spell has worn off. These flares you have they’re nothing more than…supernatural panic attacks.”

“No. You’re wrong. That can’t be true.”

Mace’s head jerked upright as Stella came forward. “Why don’t we ask him?”

Mace blinked heavy lids at Ember, grimacing as he swallowed.

“Speak, sluagh,” Stella commanded. “Tell her the truth.”

“Is it true?” Ember asked.

“Yes,” Mace told her.

“So you don’t care about me at all?”

“Of course I do,” Mace rasped. “Just because your magic holds me to you doesn’t mean you control my feelings.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Please. He has no soul. He is literally incapable of feeling anything for anybody. He’s a liar. He is beholden to you.” Ember flinched at the words but said nothing, staring at Mace with this sad sort of longing. Tristin knew that feeling.

Stella wasn’t finished. “I know that sounds like a pretty word but all it means is that he only feels what you want him to. He only does what you tell him to. He’s a shell. Sluagh have no feelings because they have no soul. They are monsters. Anything he feels for you, he only feels because you want him to. Any emotions he has he only has because you give them to him.”

Her cousin nodded her head as if Stella’s answer made too much sense. Tristin knew then, the witches had won. Ember would do what they wanted.