Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Misha
Ileaned against the railing of the cabin's small porch, staring into the darkness.
I'd made sure Palmer was tucked in safe on the couch before heading outside.
I needed some time to myself to process what the actual fuck had just happened.
Glancing through the window, I saw her parents' spirits hovering nearby like anxious little butterflies.
She was the perfect blend of both parents—her mother's dark hair and deep blue eyes, her father's strong jawline and infectious smile.
Even the way her lips curved upward when she laughed was his, unmistakable.
I couldn't blame them for being anxious. What she did back there...
Fuck.
My fingers drummed against the wooden rail as I replayed the scene in my head. The way she commanded those spirits, the raw power pouring off her small frame. It was like watching a supernova up close—beautiful and terrifying all at once.
And now she was mated. To Jasper.
Jasper.
The name still felt like a blade between the ribs, even after all these years.
Losing Jasper was the catalyst for so many things.
Asrael thought it would put us in line, bring us to heel, slow down the uprising—it did the opposite.
Eventually, they had no choice but to banish us from Besmet.
We were too influential, too good at moving in the shadows, and now we were reunited with the very spirit of the demon who started it all.
A bitter laugh escaped me. The universe had a sick sense of humor sometimes.
Inside, I could hear the others talking in low voices.
Rhodes' particular tone caught my attention—strained, like he was being slowly strangled. Part of me wanted to go in there and introduce my fist to his face for threatening Palmer the way he had, and then not even telling us about any of it. The other part... Well, fuck. I got it. Knowing what I knew now about everything… I couldn’t smash his face in.
I pulled one of my smaller blades from my thigh sheath, letting the familiar weight ground me as I flipped it between my fingers. The metal caught what little moonlight filtered through the trees.
Palmer's display of power kept replaying in my head. The way she stood there, channeling all that energy, directing those spirits like she was conducting a fucking orchestra. And the look in her eyes—determined, fierce. No hesitation.
"Kukola has some teeth," I muttered to myself, resheathing the blade.
A floorboard creaked behind me, and I tensed, but it was just Talon. I could feel him hovering in the doorway.
"Not now," I growled before he could open his mouth. I just wasn't really in the mood to talk, or listen, for that matter.
"Wasn't gonna say anything," he replied, but stayed put. Annoying bastard.
The silence stretched between us until I couldn't take it anymore. "She could have killed herself pulling that shit."
"But she didn't."
"Not the point."
"Then what is the point, Mishy?"
I turned to face him, jaw clenched. "The point is, she's got more power than she knows what to do with, she's mated to our dead brother's ghost, and we've got Scorpio breathing down our necks. That enough points for you?"
Talon held up his hands in surrender, but I caught the hint of a smile playing at his lips. Asshole always did find my rare outbursts entertaining.
"Go back inside," I told him. "Someone should be watching her."
"There's plenty of people doing just that," he said, but turned to go anyway. "Don't stay out here brooding all night."
I flipped him off without looking, returning my attention to the darkness beyond the porch. The night air carried the scent of pine and something else—something electric, like the aftermath of Palmer's power surge. It reminded me of the smell after lightning strikes.
Maybe that's what she was—lightning in witch form. Beautiful, dangerous, and completely fucking unpredictable.
And now she was part of our fucked-up family, whether any of us were ready for it or not. But oh, I was ready. I'd been ready.
I pulled another blade from my sheath, larger this time, and started practicing forms. It was better than thinking. Better than wondering what other surprises were waiting to blow up in our faces.
At least the repetitive movements would keep my mind off the fact that our dead brother was currently watching over his unconscious mate in the living room.
Fuck my life.
Sheathing my blades, I stepped back inside, my boots silent on the wooden floor.
The living room was dimly lit, the fire casting long shadows across Palmer's sleeping form on the couch.
Jasper's spirit hovered nearby, a faint blue glow that made my chest ache because he was here now, but would he be able to remain?
That was the question nobody was acknowledging.
Ashland sat in an armchair, his ice-blue eyes fixed on our ghostly brother. "So, Scorpio, tell us what you know?" he commanded, voice low but firm.
I moved to lean against the wall, close enough to hear but far enough that the others wouldn't try to drag me into the conversation. My fingers still itched for my blades, but I forced them still.
"Scorpio showed up at Haunt with her best friend, Hunter, and used him as bait.
The three of them were close back in their training days at Montague.
He's been watching," Jasper replied. "For longer than any of us realized.
He's obsessed with her. Disturbingly obsessed.
Like she told you, at the compound, there was a woman who looked just like her that he was involved with. "
My hand unconsciously moved to one of my daggers. The thought of Scorpio anywhere near Palmer made my demon blood boil. On the couch, she stirred slightly, mumbling something in her sleep.
"We need to move her," I said, pushing off the wall. "This cabin isn't secure enough." I was fairly positive Scorpio had never been in Besmet, but that fucker was psychotic, and the moment you underestimate a psychopath is the moment you lose.
"Agreed," Ashland nodded, clearly having had the same thought process as I had. "But first, she needs to rest. That display with the spirits took a lot out of her."
"I think once she's up, we need to get back to Haunt. At least there we can lock it down and we have advanced surveillance," Felix thought aloud, scribbling furiously across the only countertop in the cabin.
"Where's her parents?!" I hadn't seen them in a few minutes. We promised they'd be here when she woke up. If they—
"They went out for some air," Jasper stated calmly. "They're not going anywhere, not yet." I released a breath of relief. Thank the gods. "But," he continued, "whether we're here or there, Scorpio will come for her. He needs to be eliminated, as soon as fucking possible."
His form flickered, and he met my eyes. For a moment, I saw the brother I used to know, the one who died too young, too soon. "Jasper," I growled, piercing him with a sincere gaze, "Fuckin' missed you, brother."
I watched as Jasper's form flickered, a sad smile crossing his spectral features. Before he could respond, Palmer let out a whimper from the couch. My body moved before my brain caught up, and I found myself kneeling beside her.
Her face was scrunched up, clearly caught in some kind of nightmare. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breathing had become erratic. Without thinking, I reached out and brushed my fingers across her temple.
I stepped into her dream, finding myself in a stark white room.
Palmer stood in the center, surrounded by mirrors that showed different versions of herself—some stronger, some broken, all of them screaming.
Scorpio's laughter echoed through the space, bouncing off the walls until it was impossible to tell where it was coming from.
"Palmer," I called out, my voice carrying more authority than usual in this dreamscape.
Her head snapped toward me, eyes wide with recognition. "Misha?"
"It's just a dream, kukola. You're safe."
The mirrors started to crack, spider-web patterns spreading across their surfaces. Palmer stumbled backward, but I caught her before she could fall.
"Make it stop," she whispered, clutching my shirt.
I wrapped my arms around her, using my power to shift the dreamscape. The white room melted away, replaced by my workshop. The familiar scent of metal and leather filled the air.
"Better?" I asked, still holding her.
She nodded against my chest. "How are you here?"
"It's what I do. Dreams are... my thing." I rarely shared this particular ability. It had been used as a weapon for too long.
Palmer pulled back slightly, looking up at me with those big blue eyes. "Thank you, and Misha, I'm so fucking sorry."
"Hush now, you need to rest." She had no business even trying to focus on anything in the real world after what she'd been through. Absolute rest is what was required.
"Everything happened so fast, the club, the maze, how deep I got in, and then how deeply I began to feel—"
I scooped her up, cutting off her sentence. She didn't need to explain this to me, not right now. "Quiet, kukola. I'm going to hold you in my arms and you're going to sleep."
She yawned and blinked slowly as I lay down on the couch with her on top of my chest. "Are you mad at me?" she questioned, her voice sounding so small. Sweet little rabbit.
"No. I'm not." My fingers danced through her hair and traced her spine. "But I will be disappointed if you don't close your eyes and go to sleep."
And within three breaths, she was out cold.
I sighed. It had been a long time since I'd done it, but I was able to leave a dream version of myself behind.
It wasn't something I had any control over once I left the dream; that was up to the person who was dreaming.
I carefully extracted myself, leaving my dream body sleeping comfortably beneath her, which was her vision.
"Sleep well, kukola," I whispered as I withdrew myself completely.
Back in the real world, I removed my hand from her temple.
Her features had relaxed, her breathing steady once more.
Time passed so fast in the dreamscapes that, realistically, it had probably only been ten seconds here.
But that was long enough for these fuckers to notice what I had done.
When I looked up, they were all watching me with knowing expressions.
What they thought they knew, I'd love to fucking know.
"The fuck you looking at?" I growled quietly.
"Nothing," Rhodes replied, but his smirk said otherwise.
Talon did a pirouette. For no reason. Nailed it.
Jasper shrugged. "Just interesting to see you care so much."
I stood up, putting distance between myself and Palmer. "She's Exiled now. We protect our own."
"Uh-huh." Jasper's form flickered again, his smile growing wider.
"Shut up," I muttered, moving back to my spot against the wall.
Felix looked up from his sketching. "Did you just tell a ghost to shut up?"
"Yes." I crossed my arms, daring anyone else to comment.
Talon snickered from his perch on the kitchen counter. "Mishy Bear's getting soft."
My blade embedded itself in the wood next to his thigh before he finished speaking. He didn't flinch, just grinned wider.
"Children," Ashland warned, though there was amusement in his tone. "Can we focus?"
I retrieved my knife, ignoring Talon's continued amusement. "We need to figure out what Scorpio's really after. This isn't just about Palmer."
"Agreed," Jasper added. "He's been working on whatever this is for years. There's more to this than we know."
My eyes drifted back to Palmer. She looked so small curled up on that couch, but I'd seen what she could do. The power she wielded... it was both terrifying and fascinating. No wonder Scorpio wanted it for himself.
"Whatever his endgame is," I said, resheathing my blade, "we need to be ready."
Rhodes began pacing slowly. "Scorpio is obsessed with power, just like Asrael was.
With that room of spirits… I think Asrael had them stored there for more than just silencing the ghosts of his horrible crimes.
" He glanced at Palmer. "Do you think he was trying to figure out how to harness their power in death? " His eyes widened. "Can she do that?"
We all looked at the absolute powerhouse of a woman who was sound asleep, looking so innocent and fragile. She was anything but.
"Well, she was able to link with me and we broke Scorpio's mind control by reaching his puppet's actual spirits," Jasper explained.
"So she's a threat," Talon growled.
Ashland shook his head. "She wasn't always a threat to his power; that was a new development. So now she's a threat and a weapon. I don't think she or Scorpio even understands the magnitude of her power, but Asrael? He fucking knew."
Felix scoffed. "Thank the gods he's dead. I don't think that's information he would've shared with anyone."
Silence fell over the room as we all descended into our own thoughts. Whatever was coming, we'd face it together. And anyone who tried to hurt our little witch would learn why they called me The Carver.
I moved closer to Palmer, studying her face in the dim light. Such a tiny thing to hold so much power. To have death itself as a mate. To have all of us wrapped around her little finger, whether she knew it or not.
"Kukola," I murmured, too quiet for the others to hear. "What other secrets are you hiding?"