Queen of the Magnetland (The Elemental Phases Book 5) (35 page)

Chason
didn’t look the least bit sorry.  “Wherever Vandal is, I hope he dies in pain.”

“How
can you not know what will happen?”  Mara asked Daphne.  “Hasn’t it
already
happened in your time?”

“It
doesn’t work that way…”

Chason
cut her off.  “I don’t care how it works.  Just give Raiden back or I’ll
take
him back.”

“I’m
terrified.”  Daphne scoffed and negligently waved the future gun at him ‘duh’
style.  “Oh wait.  I’m
not
because I can kill you in –like-- four
seconds.  Don’t be a cathead.  Raiden’s
fine
.  He’s just pissy because I
ruined his big death scene.  He’ll get over it.”

“If
you hurt him…”

Daphne
interrupted the threat with a roll of her eyes.  “I’m not going to harm a non-hair
on his little bald head, okay?  I’m just keeping him safely out of the way
until I’m sure he can’t cause me anymore problems.”

“Which
will be when exactly?”  Chason demanded

Daphne
lifted a shoulder in a shrug.  “I’m guessing sometime around Gion, of the Water
House’s birthday.”  She smiled sweetly as she gave that bizarre answer.  “Bye, for
now.”  She vanished from the room.

Chason
made a frustrated sound.  “She saved your life and maybe my life… but I just
don’t like her.”  He looked over at Mara.  “Do you think she’ll hurt Raiden?”

“No.” 
Mara said honestly.  “I think she’s telling the truth.  Something terrible is
on the horizon and she’s working to fix it.  The girl has no qualms about
shooting people, obviously, so if she intended to harm Raiden, she already
would’ve done it.  There must be another reason she’s taken him.”

“Well,
whatever it is, he’s not going to like it.”  Chason muttered.  “Raiden’s the
only one who’s stood by me.  If he’s been captured, I have to find him.”

“We
will.”  Together, she and Chason could accomplish anything.  Mara nodded
towards Lansing.  “In the meantime, what shall we do about him?”

“Call
whoever is acting as second-in-command of the Reprisal now and tell them to
come get him, I suppose.  I’ll be damned if he’s being buried on our land.”

Mara
hesitated.  “Lansing implied that you could resume control of the army if you
want.”  She pointed out cautiously.

“I
don’t
want.  I’m out of the vengeance business.  All I want to do is
spend the rest of eternity with you, listening to music and dancing and raising
little dark haired girls with too much power for my peace of mind.”

Mara
let out a relieved breath at the certainty in his tone.  She moved to wrap her
arms around him.  She’d some so close to losing him twice today.  “For your
peace of mind, maybe we should also rethink making room the nursery, then.  Armed
lunatics show up in here with alarming frequency.”

“Maybe
we should just give up on this place and build another fortress…”

She
cut him off.  “Absolutely not. 
This
is our home.  We’ll stay right here
where we belong.”

Chason
held her tight.  “I love you, Mara.”

“Forever
and then some?”

“Longer
than even that.”  He rested his cheek against the top of her head.  “We have a second
chance and I don’t want to waste
any
of it.  I want to do everything on
your list and more.  I want you to yell at me and laugh with me and
be
with me.  I want us to never, ever take this for granted, because it can all
vanish so
fast
.”

That
was true.  It could.  But, love kept on going no matter what.  It was the only
thing that you took with you in the end.  That was what made it the most
important part of existence.  Love was what everyone should be fighting for.

Dying
made living so clear.

Mara
tilted her face back to look at her Match.  “You know what I want?”

“Name
it and it’s yours.”

“I
want to play checkers with you.  Every single day of our second chance.”  She
leaned up to kiss him.

…And
Chason slowly smiled.

***

The
red numbers on his watch reached zero and the alarm sounded.

It
was midnight.

Raiden
stared down at the readout and knew that he’d failed.  Chason was still alive
--He could feel that—and that was as it should
be.  But Raiden was still
alive,
too
.  That wasn’t supposed to happen.  Raiden was
supposed
to be dead.  Lansing should have killed him.  It had been Raiden’s destiny.

The
future had been changed.

“Oh
God, no.”  He dropped his head into his palms and hated himself.

He’d
fucked up and now everything was lost.  Fate had been derailed and he hadn’t
been able to stop it.  What the hell had
happened?!
  His visions had all
been so clear.  He’d been so
sure
he could fix it and save the world. 
Save his Match.

He’d
been wrong.

He’d
failed Fee and now…

“Aw,
don’t look so pouty.  You just got outsmarted, Ray.  Take it like a man.”

Raiden
froze.

No…

He
slowly lifted his head and stared at the woman standing in front of him.  Honey
blonde hair and topaz eyes, wearing a
garish silver jacket and
a smug smile.

He
would’ve known her anywhere.

“Oh
Gaia.”  He rasped, overwhelmed and suddenly terrified.  “You can’t be here. 
You’ll die if you’re here.”  His voice got louder, his heart pounding
frantically.  “What have you done?”

“Don’t
worry.  Turns out there’s a loophole to time jumping when you’re as awesome as
me.”  Daphne, of the Time House arched a brow.  “Believe me, I was just as
surprised as you the first time I tried it and I didn’t exploded into dust.”

He
couldn’t comprehend her casual words.  It took a hell of a lot to surprise a
psychic, but Raiden was so shocked he couldn’t even process that she was really
standing in front of him.  “What have you
done?
”  He repeated in horror.

“Come
on, did you really think you could renounce me and go off to die a martyr?  That
I’d just
accept
that?”  She snorted.  “Think again, asshole.”

“
Fee,
what the fuck have you
done?!”

His
Match leaned closer to the plastic wall of his cell, grown-up and beautiful… and
the exact same spoiled, stubborn,
very
assertive brat she’d been when
he’d seen her just hours before in that garden.

“Why,
Ray, I think it’s pretty obvious what I’ve done.”  She smirked at him.  “I just
killed the son-of-a-bitch who was supposed to kill you and I hijacked the future.”

“You’ve
destroyed the world!”  He corrected at a roar.

“People
say
that, but I can’t really hear their complaints over the sound of me
winning
.”

Raiden
slowly shook his head, his mind racing.  She was so absolutely sure of
herself.  And why shouldn’t she be?  His clever little Match has just beaten
him.  She’d done the impossible and unwritten time itself to get her own way. 
He’d always known that the scope of Fee’s powers was dangerous, but this was
beyond anything he’d ever imagined.

If
she followed this course, she’d get herself killed.

He
knew that.

It
was Raiden or Daphne.  His visions had always shown him that only one of them
could survive.  That there would need to be a choice.  Except there
was
no choice.  It
had
to be her.  He would go to his death a thousand times
over before he allowed his Match to be harmed.

Even
if she was a devious, arrogant, world destroying, kidnapper.

“Let
me out of here.”  He ordered.

“Sorry. 
Not done fixing your screw-ups, yet.”

“
My
screw-ups?!”

“And
Chason’s.”  She made her face.  “He lost Vandal! 
Lost
him!  And I know
what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t my fault.  How could I predict that that
lunatic would beat the shit out of Mr. Big Bad Light Phase?  That wasn’t
supposed to happen.  Chason’s just making it up as he goes along.”  She rolled
her eyes.  “But don’t worry.  I’ll get us back on track and…”

“Stop!” 
Raiden never raised his voice, but now he had to fight not to bellow at her.  “Just
stop and listen to me.  You can’t
do
this.  I had a
destiny
, Fee.” 
He tried to make her understand.  Tried not to get swept up in how stunning she
looked.  Tried not to be grudgingly impressed at how amazing it was to be seeing
her, here in the tomorrow where he wasn’t supposed to exist.  “I explained this
to you.  I
must
die or all will be lost.”

“Well,
I’m
in charge of destiny now and I didn’t much like that ending.  Fate
needed a do-over and it was clear
you
weren’t going to solve the problem. 
It was up to me.”

“Everything
I’ve done was to give you the future that you just obliterated.”

“A
future
alone!
”  Topaz eyes narrowed in sudden fury.  “I was your Match
and you abandoned me like I was
nothing
to you!”  Her fist slammed
against the plastic door of his cell as if she was imagining it was his face.

Raiden
stopped short, realizing Daphne was far angrier than her sneering façade
revealed.  No, not just angry. 
Hurt. 
So hurt that even a social
atheist like Raiden could see how deep the wound went.  He’d tried as hard as
he could to give her a happy life, but in the end his efforts hadn’t been
enough.  His only real destiny was to ensure hers and he’d fucked it up.

How
many centuries had she been hating him?

“I’m
sorry.”  But he knew the words weren’t enough.

“If
you were sorry, you would have
stayed
with me!”  Her voice grew even
louder.  “You think I didn’t feel it happen?  When you scarified yourself
saving the Magnet King, do you think I didn’t
feel
you die?  I almost let
Lansing kill Chason just for
that.
”

“Fee…”

“Shut-up! 
You don’t get to call me that, anymore.”  She turned away from him and he could
see her trying to regain control.

Raiden
squeezed his eyes shut against her pain.  “I didn’t have choice.”  He sounded
as desperate as he felt.  “Please believe me.  It was the only way.”

She
didn’t believe him.  “Well, I found
another
way, cat for brains.  Get
comfortable, because you’re not going anywhere for a
looong
time.”

Raiden
felt her prepare to go.  She was really going to leave him in this cell?  “Wait! 
You have to let me out of here, so I fix this.”

“You
can’t ‘fix’ anything.”  She added air quotes to the word.  “It’s too late. 
Altering the past was a one shot deal.  Even
I
can’t go back and undo
it.  Why do you think Vandal disappearing is a big deal?”

“It’s
permanent?
”  Raiden’s mind whirled at the repercussions of that horrible
truth.  “But we’re on the wrong path.”

“Sorry,
Ray, but it’s the only path we’ve got, now.  One retcon per customer.  For
better or worse, I can’t change what I’ve
already
changed and no one
else is strong enough to stop me.”  Daphne spread her arms “ta-da!” style.  “Welcome
to the
new
history.”

It took me
five centuries worth of work to make New History happen.  There were flow
charts and diagrams involved.  I had to try and remember the slang of this
century and what exactly the primitive “technology” did.  Not to mention the
fact that it was supposed to be scientifically impossible and “morally wrong”
to alter the past.  But, in the end, I did it.  Did you ever have a doubt?  Yep,
everything was working out just as I planned.

Mostly.

Daphne, of the Time House- “After the
Fall: A History of the Dark War”

Sullivan
went back to the jail and let Alder out of his cell.

He
heroically ignored the jackass’s list of complaints as he returned the guy’s
shoelaces and many, many packs of matches.  He stayed downright pleasant as he
snarled that Alder had better not ever show his face in town, again.  Ever.  He
hadn’t even flinched as Alder zapped out of the room with a bevy of insults and
threats.

Then,
he turned and headed back home.

Sullivan
Pryce was a man who kept his word.  He’d agreed to let Alder go if Teja came to
face him and that’s exactly what he did.  Even if their meeting
had
ended in utter disaster.

Fucking
hell.

As
usual, he’d been knocked off balance when Teja started talking.  The “Hey,
let’s have sex!” thing had been a surprise, even though Cult women
propositioned him with baffling regularity.  In the past, he always edged away
from them in wary annoyance when they suggested X-rated fun.  With Teja,
though…

Jesus,
he’d wanted her.

He
still did.

Teja
was the most stunning woman he’d ever seen.  It wasn’t even a contest.  He’d
been amazed that she’d even
consider
letting him touch her.   She was so
beautiful and so… weird.  But weird in an oddly entertaining way.  Like she was
trying hard to communicate with him, even though she thought
he
was crazy
one.

Sullivan
knew that Teja had to have an ulterior motive for pretending to be interested
in him, but it had been so hard to remember that when she started taking off
her clothes.  Kissing her had made his whole body feel more
alive
.  Like
something was waking-up inside of him, stirring deeper than just passion or
lust.  Something huge and powerful and right at his very core.  For one second,
everything had been…

Magical.

His
lips met hers and all his instincts told him that he’d come home.

Except,
Teja had yanked back like he’d punched her.  She’d stared up at him, looking
terrified, and whispered, “I can’t do this.”  Then she’d vanished.  Just
vanished
right from his grasp.

What
the hell had he expected?

Sullivan
reached up to rub at his scar self-consciously.  Whatever she wanted from him,
it wasn’t worth sleeping with him to get.  On some level, he was glad about
that.

Mostly.

He
couldn’t stand the idea Teja
forcing
herself to be with him.  Of hating
every second that she touched him.  For a moment, he’d gotten wrapped up in the
fantasy that someone like her might want him and but now he saw truth.  She
must have been disgusted the whole time.

Obviously.

At
least, Teja had the guts to back out when she did, though.  It was less
crushing to know now, rather than later.  It was still pretty fucking crushing,
but it was easier to take than if she’d kept trying to pretend.  Sullivan was a
deeply pragmatic man at heart.  He’d rather just get the rejection over with so
everyone could move on.

Hell,
he doubted he’d ever see her, again.  Which was for the best.  A clean break
would be easier than seeing her around town… stalking someone else.  Sullivan
teeth ground together, trying to squelch his irrational surge of possessiveness
at that thought.

She
wasn’t his.

He
was a damn idiot for even thinking that way.  The girl was a lunatic and liar
and way,
way
out of his league.  Plus, at the end, she’d looked almost
afraid
of him.  No way would she be back.  Teja was
gone
.

Sullivan’s
deepest instincts howled in protest at that idea.

He
ignored them.  Or at least he tried to.

Shoving
his hands into his jacket pockets, Sullivan cut across the park on his way
home.  He always walked back from the station this way.  The path was usually
deserted and Sullivan liked the solitude of it.  He was used to being alone.

It
was easier.

Despite
himself, he paused to look up at the multicolored lights decorating the palm
trees as he passed.  He’d never been someone who cared about the holidays.  His
grandfather had made a huge deal of them, though, so Sullivan had grown-up
decorating through osmosis.  John Parson had festooned his Airstream with thousands
and thousands of twinkling bulbs and plastic snowmen and jingle bells.

His
grandfather had been the exact opposite of Sullivan.  The guy had loved
Christmas.  He’d loved
life
, with a friendly, open, eternally childlike delight.

John
Parson had believed in magic.

Every
year, Sullivan vowed he wouldn’t get sucked into some pointless winter
wonderland memorial to the old man, but every year he dragged out ornaments and
strung lights and set up a tree, because he knew his grandfather would’ve
wanted it.  The only good memories of his childhood revolved around his
grandparents, so Sullivan always saw Christmas as a sort of memorial to them.

He
had the strange and random thought that they would’ve liked Teja.  Which was
crazy, because they had nothing in common…

Sullivan’s
reminiscing came to a screeching halt when a corpse fell from the sky and
landed directly in his path.

Kind
of, anyway.

It
was like that weird zapping thing the Teja did, only with no breaks.  The body
just appeared out of nowhere and thudded into the grass like a downed meteor.

Sullivan
stopped short, blinking at it in surprise.

It
looked to be a really big guy, dressed in the white robes favored by the
fringy-er religious sects and people whose fashion sense was heavily influenced
by the Statue of Liberty.  He had long blond hair tied into intricate braids
and there was a black streak at his temple.

A
Cult member.  Of
course
he was a Cult member.

Sullivan
sighed and leaned down to take the guy’s pulse.

Toga
boy was still alive, but just barely.  He looked like he taken one hell of a
beating.  Bones broken, eye half gouged out, blood everywhere…

Oh
and he also appeared to be holding his severed left hand in his right palm. 
The digits of the hacked off appendage were still clenched around a high-tech
plastic gun.

That
was different.

Sullivan
carefully picked up the weapon, cringing as the fingers fell slack.  Shaking
his head, he shoved the gun into his waistband and began radioing for help. 
There was like a
no
percent chance that this guy had insurance.  Armed
lunatic or not, though, he was going to need medical care.  Hands just didn’t
reattach themselves, even on people who thought they were gods and/or mutants.

Suddenly,
a single black eye popped open.  It pinned Sullivan with a frantic gaze,
glowing with delirious pain.  “Where am I?”  He croaked.

“Mayport
Beach.”  And, because with the Cult, you just never knew what questions you
might get, he added, “Planet Earth.”

“You
are a Wood Phase.”  The guy whispered.

“No,
I’m a cop.”  Sullivan laid a palm on his shoulder, so the guy could feel some
human contact.  Even if he didn’t think he
was
human.  “Don’t worry. 
I’m going to get you to a doctor.”

“Doctor.” 
The man’s lips barely moved.  “Yes.  There is sanctuary in the Cold Kingdom
hospital.  Even Job must respect it.  We must go there and prepare for the Dark
King.”

It
was hard to know if that was the confused rambling of someone recently
brain-damaged or just the normal psychosis of these nuts.  “Look, you’re going
to be okay.  Hang on and…”

Sullivan
stopped short as he was abruptly yanked into nothingness.  One second he was
kneeling in the grass of the park, the next her was sprawled on… snow.  The guy
lay next to him, unconscious.  Sullivan barely noticed.

He
scrambled to his feet, sinking into the thigh high drift.  His eyes snapped
around in confused alarm as the freezing wind cut through his jeans and light
jacket.  In every direction, there was nothing but a whiteout of snow and sleet
and some kind of dark ocean with bobbing icebergs big enough to sink a whole
fleet of Titanics.

Sullivan
let out a wheezing breath of pure shock, trying to process what he was seeing.

Definitely
not
in fucking Florida anymore, Toto.

He
slowly turned in a circle and found himself gazing up a magical snow globe of a
castle.  It was made of huge blocks of crystalline ice that fluoresced a frozen
blue.  The turrets and spires stretched up towards the sky, dripping in
gingerbread like strands of icicles.  If Santa Claus didn’t live there, it was
only because he couldn’t afford it.

Sullivan’s
eyes narrowed, shivering in the wind, trying not to panic, and having no damn
clue where he was.  In that moment, just one thing was absolutely clear to him:

This
was all the Cult’s fault.