Authors: Juliann Whicker
The melee began with Satan throwing a cigar that exploded against a pillar and brought a balcony down in a crash of cement mixed with screams, dust swirling across the floor while the brothers spread out causing all kinds of chaos. Birds came in from the broken skylight, ravens and crows that flew around and added to the flavor of the scene, while the floor shook, and Satan seemed to be everywhere at once, fighting a terrifying Hot blood woman holding an enormous double sided axe who was nearly as large as he was. I stood beside Grim who seemed stationed in the center, defensively waiting for one of the brothers to clear an exit for us. I saw Grim get hit by bullets but he didn’t seem to mind if they hit him, only made sure I kept out of the way. No one got close enough for me to fight, but as I watched I felt more insignificant and frustrated with every moment.
Shelley had ropes with black fire that sliced through flesh like a light saber. The guy with the scar had knives, and everything he threw seemed to stick in someone’s eye. It was disgusting, but the worst was Satan. As soon as he touched someone there was a spray of blood, and he’d already be gone, leaving the body to fall behind him. It was insane watching the brothers move so fast, so lethal, in perfect cohesion, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many of them. One of the brothers went down and there was a gap in their rhythm, their border and they had to back off. They dropped the dark-haired, white-skinned uncle, Stanley or Stephen, I couldn’t remember, next to Snowy. I wanted to take his place, to do something, but I couldn’t heal. The uncles were getting shredded, their limbs dripping red, burns and gouges half-healed as something else caught them.
I got my action as another uncle fell, and then another, with things too chaotic for them to be brought into the center. I brought up my knife to defend myself against a man who hissed at me as my blade touched flesh. He screamed and kind of crumpled and I saw Satan’s frown for a second before he turned around, his coat flapping around him, far too graceful for his size. In a moment he was there, covering one side of me while Grim stood on the other, the other brothers slower in their return to the center. With three brothers down there was no way we would ever make it out of here alive, I thought before everything stopped.
It was like getting electrocuted, or being picked up by a tornado, or being sucked dry of all oxygen. There was a sound like distant thunder and I felt frozen. I could only move slowly, like I was stuck in gelatin.
“
Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming. What an unexpected honor to see all of you here this evening.” The warm yet sarcastic voice had me turning my head as quickly as I could towards the stage and there was Lewis, standing on the edge holding an old gnarled cane in his hand. “Thanks, Old Peter,” he said tossing it to the old man who caught it, and held it like a weapon in his hands.
“
This is backup?” The scarred guy, what was his name, muttered beside Satan.
“
Shut up, Stevie,” Satan growled.
My heart raced as I stared at him, so far away, so close, so insanely impossible for me to talk to him under these circumstances, which was okay, because I had no idea what I could possibly say to Axel the painter.
“
I am wondering what all these perfectly respectable Hotbloods are doing with Wilds like The House of Cary.” Lewis shook his head sadly. “And the House of Field, not to mention notorious reds like Bliss. How odd that you’d mingle so exuberantly. Carla, this can’t be your scene, and you’ve brought your entire tribe too. Little Lexi all grown up, very nice, but not likely to last long. Ah well, I’m sure you have your reasons,” he said and stared at someone in the crowd, his focus terrifying as he smiled slowly. “Jason. I thought I recognized your work. It’s been a long time.”
The guy Snowy shot, who still seemed to be limping a bit walked up on the stage carefully, slowly. “You are not Axel. He’s dead.” He spoke with so much force and authority I would have believed him if Axel weren’t standing right there, looking amused, and extremely dangerously back at him.
“
How can you say that when it’s obvious with a crowd like this, each one leaving the comfort of his own sphere to view the artwork of a man, that Axel is immortal. Jason, I’m impressed that you were able to get a group like this together. I suppose you’ve developed some diplomacy, and other various skills since last we met.”
Jason gritted his teeth. “Axel is dead. I saw him die.” His words were even more compelling, but it wasn’t enough, not with Lewis standing there, his portrait still visible from the corner of my eye.
“
I suppose it isn’t Old Peter standing behind me with his cane either, and I suppose everyone here fell together over a few pints. None of them were leaned by you, were they?” Jason’s face contorted and I could feel how much he wanted to cut open Lewis. “Easy now, no violence, not yet. First Old Peter’s got some unmelding to do.” Old Peter rolled his head around then setting his shoulders and closed his eyes. I heard the muttering start, a woman to my left, saying something about filthy leaners, and others, angry rumbles as fury built in a different direction than me and my uncles. I felt something tug on my dress and looking down, saw the first downed uncle pulling himself up, slowly, to a standing position.
“
You are a little nobody who’s been posing as Axel for too long. Everyone who knew Axel knows that he’s not coming back. You think because you have his face you can be Axel, no one was what he was,” Jason spat, his body shaking he wanted so badly to strike out at Lewis. It made me nervous to see so much danger so close to Lewis. I wanted to be there, between him and whatever danger, however ridiculous it was for me to think that, when the Lewis who was standing on the stage like he owned the room had more power, charisma, and strength than I ever could.
“
Jason, you sound practically reverent. I’d be more touched if you weren’t the one who tried to kill me. Again.” Lewis smiled then, and took his time undoing his buttons. He pulled out a folded knife from his pocket, flipped it open and casually drew a line across his chest. Jason acted like he’d been drawn inside out, grabbing his chest like it was on fire, while all around me were shrieks of startled pain. “I am Axel.” His voice was like the crack of a whip, the words piercing my soul. I wanted to cry, either in exultation or despair, I wasn’t sure which. “Welcome to my party. Let the dancing commence.” Old Peter raised the cane and people were moving, scattering around, changing lines of attack, the majority of the Hotbloods were slicing at the other Wilds and Satan was muttering apologies as he fought with someone he’d fought against a moment before. All the brothers were back on their feet, and with the Hotbloods who were fighting their former allies, or the ones who were taking off through the nearest exit; Slide was gaining more breathing room.
I only took my eyes off the stage for a second but there was no sign of either Old Peter or Lewis when I looked back again. It was a crazy free-for-all; no one was sure who was on whose side. Apparently Axel had been an unexpected addition to the party. Well, the invitation had said he’d put in an appearance. I sliced someone who reached for me, and felt dizzy at the impact, then my movements became sharper, as I absorbed his skill set. I ignored Satan and Grim’s warning and ducked around fighting groups, trying to find Lewis.
“
Where are you going?” Grim asked socially, keeping pace with me.
“
Lewis. I have to make sure he’s all right.”
“
He’s here?” He asked and I said the words before I could stop myself.
“
Axel is Lewis.”
Grim put a hand on my arm while he whipped his other hand around and did something nasty to someone’s neck that dropped him to the ground. “Axel can take care of himself Dari. We have to get you out of here.”
I hesitated, then nodded. It wasn’t just me that had to leave this crazy scene; it was Snowy. I’d left her there, forgetting all about her when I saw Lewis up on the stage. Grim was right. I glanced once over my shoulder and saw Lewis back on the stage again fighting Jason, but there was something wrong with the scene. Lewis had blood on him. Lewis had his blood on him. I shook Grim off and started for the stage when Lewis moved so fast, his knife a blur as he moved in for the kill, but he hesitated at the last second. His eyes met mine in that brief instant, that opening that should have been Lewis closing the game permanently on Jason, when Jason’s long knife slashed down through Lewis’ body and I watched him fall.
“
No!” My voice became something more of a roar as it came out of me, the lights flickered and every eye in the room was pulled to me. Everything slowed down, became sharper, clearer, more focused as I saw Lewis sinking, heard the echo of my voice go on and on, and on… the first body I hit was a shock, an obstacle in my way to Lewis. The knife, the dizziness, the heightened senses, it all happened so fast, time disappeared, became nothing; the only existence was space, the space between me and Lewis. People kept getting in my way, and I felt the spray of blood as my knife made contact, tasted death, moved on, faster, and tighter. The more lives I took, the more death I tasted. I reached the stage, my hands slippery with blood as I climbed, but he was gone. There were more bodies around me, the lights flickered, the screaming inside my head became louder and louder as I burned, everything around me melting away at my touch, as I searched blindly for Lewis. There was no direction there was only fury, there was no light, no dark, there was only blood and death and the growing agony that couldn’t possibly grow anymore, but did anyway.
I saw flashes of light, then wind whipped my hair into my eyes, as I heard thunderous booms that split my eardrums in two, and I saw a figure wrapped in lightning, black hair streaming around her, the witch outfit making it a seriously grand entrance. My mother was here, some part of my mind whispered, and I blinked and noticed the body I held in my hands, the knife that was stuck in the chest. I pulled away from the body that dropped to the ground, looked around vaguely at the lightning lit room, showed the carnage in flickers, the most brutal of all around me.
Satan crouched beside my mother, his eyes squinting from the bright lightning, his hand fumbling in his pocket for a cigar. Grim appeared on her other side, they were looking at me, keeping their distance and I realized that I’d slipped away, lost time, forgotten everything in my fury. I let the knife fall from my fingers and the lightning disappeared.
Backup lights came on, a dim glow that illuminated fallen bodies, so many fallen bodies, and I took a step, but my foot didn’t seem attached to my body, and I found the ground rushing towards me at a terrifying pace. Someone grabbed me from behind and kept me standing. I turned to look up at Stevie, and got to watch him smile, then watch that smile freeze as his eyes widened.
He looked down and I followed his gaze, just below his hands where he held my elbow a blood-covered sword was sticking out of him. It was my turn to catch him as the blade was jerked back and I looked up, saw a feline face right before Satan’s coat obscured my view.
I looked down at Stevie, straightened his collar, smoothed his shirt, and felt his death. It made me shudder. The metallic sweetness of it was completely overpowering in the already revolting room. The smell of death, the taste of it was too much. I put my head down on his chest, willing myself to go with him, to follow my uncle, Devlin, and Lewis somewhere better.
16 Forget Genetics
I was awake but I didn’t want to open my eyes. I liked the feeling of lying on my back wrapped in complete silence, in peace that I knew would be shattered the moment I opened my eyes. I didn’t explore why my peace would be broken, I didn’t think about anything for those few precious breaths before the crashing waves of memories brought me sitting up staring around wildly, looking for danger, for Lewis, for the enemy. I blinked as my heart slowed down a little, my body cooled as I looked around at the large white room, the tall ceiling delineated by the dark molding. The windows were covered by gauzy sheers that did nothing to block out the sound of rain on the window—cold November rain.
I took a deep trembling breath and rubbed my arms with my hands. I threw back the white duvet and stood on shaky legs. I was wearing a simple white shift without sleeves, so I pulled the black knit throw off the bed and wrapped it around me. Everything was black or dark enough it may as well have been black, and white. I didn’t have to walk to the window to know where I was, but I checked anyway. There was the stretch of endless lawn, brown under the downpour, and the distant gate. I stood there, staring at the rain, the gates and thought about nothing. I heard a sound that had me spinning into a crouch, holding my breath while I waited, but the room was still. It had come from outside the door. The room was bare of anything I could use as a weapon. I clenched my fists and made my way to the door. I threw it open and stared at Devlin. He blinked at me, and I stared back, thinking that if I was going to be dead or dreaming, I’d rather see Lewis.
“
You’re awake,” he said, but his voice was wrong, and I felt like an idiot.
“
You’re Stephen’s boy,” I replied, and held the blanket around me tighter. “The house is really quiet.” I didn’t know what to say because right then I remembered seeing a face with a scar, the frozen smile… I swallowed and looked down at my feet.
“
I’m Jackson. Everyone is at the funeral,” he said, his voice cracking on the last word. He cleared his throat. “I left early, I just couldn’t stand all the people staring at me.” He sniffed and we stood there like that in an awkward silence.
“
It’s my fault,” I finally said, which of all things made him laugh. It was a terrible sound, because he was the kind of person who really had laughed before all this.