Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was weird, seeing a scene he was in when he wasn’t in his body. It had only ever happened to Ant once before, when someone’s bullet had connected with his body. This time it was clearly because he’d been overwhelmed as every aspect of their current situation hit him at once.
Already tired, his body screaming for some type of fuel to keep going, Ant was then hit with the concerns about his sister, having to watch his dog being shot, and then…then…
Ant had always known that the most effective way for a person to torture a mage with his skill level - particularly with him being able to replay past events - was to tie him down to a serial killer and leave him there. He’d always known to be careful when out and about, but with the defense lawyer and Mike holding him firm between them he was getting battered with their sins from both sides. He desperately tried to make order out of the chaos of scenes he was being bombarded with.
From the left: Colin Banks. Ant mentally shuddered as he was forced to watch vision after vision of that man forcing his bulk on girls and boys who looked no older than ten…a grinning Tony in the background recording each encounter…the money exchanges…the white powder coating the man’s nose as a girl shivered with fear and cold while chained naked to a radiator.
The right side was no better: Officer Mike. One of the few police officers Ant had thought of as a friend. The person who spent hours taking down every detail of the scenes Ant had read, and now Ant could see why. His heart broke as he was battered by scenes of Mike laughing as he took off his hat, stripped off his bushy eyebrows, and removed the scarf from the bottom half of his face. Taking his big coat off, putting it in a trash bag, before checking his boots for debris. Scanning scenes, pacing out distances so he could follow a trail in the dark. This is why he pushed me for every detail and why he never wanted to be near me when I read the scenes he was responsible for.
Ant was ready to give up. His sister was battered, but she was still breathing, and Ant had to pray that Able was too. Victor was strong, he would survive, and he could look after Able and Bridget…
You dumbass. You’re in the biggest fight of your life and you’re just giving up? This is not who you are.
Bridget? Ant’s spirit actually looked around and there she was, floating about a foot from where Victor was still holding her. You’re not dead. Get back in your body.
Why? Bridget’s spirit danced around. It hurts in there. You’re planning to do some kind of spiritual runner, so why shouldn’t I?
Gods, don’t say that. Ant sobbed. You can’t see what I see. It’s too much. The load is too heavy. I can’t unsee the things I’m forced to relive over and over. I can’t take this anymore. I’m sorry to disappoint you, I don’t want to leave Viktor when we’ve only just started our journey together, but I just can’t...I can’t… Ant prayed his sister would understand.
You need a bacon sandwich.
That hit Ant like a cup of cold water to the face. What did you just say?
In fact, you need three bacon sandwiches.
Bacon sandwiches?
It always works for me. Now, what are we going to do here so we can go and get those sandwiches? I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. The bad guys are monologuing. Don’t you hate it when they do that? And that mate of yours should really just put my body down and take them out.
He doesn’t know who to save first. Able is upstairs with a gunshot wound, he’s got you in his arms and you’re unconscious, and me… Ant peered at his body. I think I’m unconscious too. That’s twice I’ve been hit on the head in the past twelve hours. It’s possible I have concussion, but Viktor wouldn’t know that.
Tell Viktor to put me down and start living up to his bad-boy persona. Bridget’s spirit was floating toward the ceiling.
Where are you going? Get back to your body.
I’m checking on Able. The top half of Bridget disappeared and then she popped back. Okay, that was weird. I went right through the floor.
There was a hole. That’s how Viktor got down here. What about Able?
Breathing. Bridget floated closer. Breathing and bleeding. He needs help. We have to get a rescue plan moving here.
In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t have any substance like this.
You have a mind link with your mate, don’t you? Use it. Tell Viktor to put me down, somewhere with as little dust as possible, thank you very much, and then we’ll start causing a spirit rampage so your mate can make use of those muscles and claws of his. It’s time for him to go badass on their asses.
Spirit rampage? Ant wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what Bridget was actually thinking, but he had always trusted Bridget with his life, and right now her dose of common sense gave him the only hope he had left. I’ll try. What’s the worst that could happen?
Ant meant the question seriously, but Bridget laughed. Let’s sit back and see what happens. Damn, I wish you could get popcorn in this form.
Narrowing his focus, trying to push aside the images he was still getting through the hands on his arms, Ant reached for his bond with Viktor. As he suspected, Viktor was torn, not sure who he was meant to save first.
I’ve seen their sins, my mate. They are both responsible for horrendous crimes. Bridget says to put her down and show your badass side…whatever that means… And then, because Ant couldn’t bear the thought of Bridget’s body being dropped, he added, don’t drop her. Put her down nicely please. She’s not a fan of dust.