55. Barrett
BARRETT
“ L ong time no see,” Marcus crooned, his words sliding out like poison.
It felt as if I was staring at a ghost, dark circles shadowing his pewter eyes, his skin paler than I remembered. He didn’t look like the friend I remembered, more a shell of a man lost.
“Tell me you aren’t the one who did this,” I said, taking a step toward him. It had been decades since I’d last seen him—only a few years before Lucia’s passing when we’d lost Vivienne to the darkling nest.
He swayed, stumbling to the side as if drunk, and lifted his crimson-stained hand to his lips before dragging his tongue up his palm, coating his tongue in the girl’s blood. His head fell back, eyes falling closed as he let out a sigh that turned into a groan of frustration.
“It’s not her,” he muttered under his breath as he stared up at the sky, head tilted as if looking up at someone who wasn’t there.
My brows furrowed, and I followed his gaze to the storm clouds churning above us, rain stinging my eyes before I looked back at him.
He had turned his gaze downward to the woman’s lifeless body, and he shifted his weight, tilting his head to get a better look as he hooked her chin with the edge of his boot.
“Such a shame,” he muttered, wiping the bloodied blade of his knife on his jeans to clean it. I’d hoped you’d be the one.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Marcus?” I demanded, taking another step toward him.
He stiffened, his murderous gaze snapping to me, and I stilled, my heart plummeting at the unrelenting fury raging within his eyes.
“Don’t fucking come any closer,” he growled, teeth bared as he pointed the blade of his knife at us.
“It’s been you this whole time?” I demanded, his face flashing across my thoughts, the soul I’d once called brother.
His hateful eyes fluttered as if he was close to passing out, and he blinked as he shook his head. His lips curved into a cruel smile. “It’s always been me. Every one of them. And I’m nowhere near finished.”
“Why would you do this?” Micah asked. “We thought you were dead.”
He huffed a laugh and ran his bloodied fingers through his hair, painting it in streaks of crimson, shoving it back out of his face as the soaked strands clung to his skin. “Not dead...never dead. I can’t rest.”
He began muttering to himself, words jumbled and slurred until it shifted in a near tune, as if he was singing to himself. “...no rest for the wicked.”
My mind raced, every face of every woman he’d murdered flashing across my thoughts.
“You still serving that murderous cunt of a goddess?” Marcus crooned, his eyes drifting between the two of us, cold and unrecognizable from who I once knew.
“Watch your mouth,” Micah snapped.
Marcus laughed. “Ah, Micah. Always loyal until the end. What a good soldier.”
“No more games, Marcus,” I growled, flames coming to life in my palm. Micah’s eyes shifted to me, but I held my gaze forward, watching Marcus’ every move. A Nous user would be difficult to take down, and Marcus was especially gifted.
“Nah, ah, ah,” Marcus said with a shake of his finger and I stilled, my eyes falling to my hand as the flames doused.
I tried to recall them, tried to spark whatever fire I could back to life, but they wouldn’t heed my command. “Fuck.”
“This is how we’re gonna do things,” Marcus said, twirling his knife as he paced to the side. “I’m gonna take my leave, and you’re going to go about your night. ”
“Like hell we are,” Micah growled.
Marcus let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve got shit to do.”
Micah ran forward, and I sucked in a breath before taking off after him. “Micah!”
Marcus stiffened, his eyes going wild as he stumbled back.
But then, he smiled. “Let’s see if you can catch me this time, flower boy!”
Marcus ducked into a nearby alley, and we followed, the distance too much for us to do anything, especially with my magic locked away.
The rain pelted us like chips of ice, stinging my eyes, cutting into my skin in its relenting waves, and the chill tore through my leathers. I stumbled to a stop, grabbing Micah’s arm as my breath left my lips in a puff of white mist, the air freezing around us.
Micah’s eyes met mine, realization flashing across his face before we scanned the darkness around us. The roar of the rain blinded our senses, filling our ears in its rush, dulling our vision with its veiled droplets, snuffing our sense of smell.
Marcus’ laughter echoed through the alleys, his trail lost to us, and I took a step back as faint clicks reached my ears over the rain. The direction from which it came was unclear. Micah and I took a step back.
Micah grunted as he hit the ground beside me, and I twisted around to find him being dragged back, a claw-tipped hand wrapped around his ankle.
“Fuck!” he shouted as he twisted around and threw his hands out, as if to summon his magic, but no vines came to ensnare the darkling.
I launched myself toward him, and the wind rushed from my lungs as a body crashed into me, knocking me to the side. My head smacked against the pavement, and the world swam around me. I groaned, trying to push myself up.
Micah’s panicked shouts reached my ears, and I rolled to the side, finding him pinned beneath a darkling.
“Get the fuck off me!” he shouted, pressing his forearm to the darkling’s throat as it snapped its torn jaws.
I groaned, saliva flooding my mouth as I tried to regain myself, tried to think past the shattering pain echoing in the back of my head.
“Hang on!” I shouted, my words a near slur as I pushed myself up.
Two darklings charged for me from the darkness, their jaws stretched wide, claws reaching as they launched themselves at me.
I drew my dagger as they pinned me to the wall, and it was knocked from my hand, sliding across the pavement.
I grasped the shoulder of one of the darklings, and the neck of the other, grinding my teeth as I fought to keep them off me.
Micah cried out, and I turned my gaze to find him struggling beneath the weight of the darkling as it snapped and clawed at him .
“Don’t you fucking give up!” I shouted as I tried to summon the flames Marcus had silenced.
He reached down with his free hand, ripping his dagger out before plunging it into the darkling’s chest. It shrieked before collapsing on him, body crumbling into dust.
The darklings snapped at me as I held them at bay, unable to grab my dagger, unable to get to Micah. I reached for the flames, beckoning them, begging them to answer my call. Sparks flashed at my fingertips but doused instantly.
“Come on,” I growled as they sparked and doused once more. “Come on, come on, come on!”
Micah cried out, and I cursed as darklings swarmed him, grabbing his arms, his legs, dragging him further away, fighting with one another to claim him.
“No!” I shouted as the scent of his blood reached my nose. “Fucking fight them, Micah!”
The flames flickered at my fingertips before flaring to life, and I roared as I unleashed them, incinerating the darklings holding me down in a pyre.
Their shrieks echoed through the street long after their bodies collapsed into dust, and I turned, throwing my hands out to send a wave of fire crashing into the hoard of darklings pinning Micah down.
They disintegrated before they could hit the ground, their ashes melding with the rain. I ran for Micah, dropping to my knees as I slid to his side.
“No,” I muttered, my eyes darting over his body, his leather armor torn and shredded, his blood pooling on the ground around him, mixing with the ashes of the darklings.
His chest heaved as he panted and coughed, his eyes clamping shut as he lay on the ground, unable to move. I slid my arm under him, trying to pick him up, to rush him to Johnson’s clinic.
“Stop,” he gasped, clutching onto my shirt.
I pulled him against me. “I need to get you help.”
He shook his head and let it fall back, eyes rising to the sky before they fluttered shut. “Too late...”
My heart stalled, and I searched him once more.
“Three.” He gasped for air before coughing up blood. “They got me at least three times. I’ve?—”
He cried out, head falling back as he clutched at his stomach where they’d torn through his armor, blood oozing from the wound. Black veins crawled up his throat, darkness swirling in his eyes at such an alarming rate, I froze. “I’ve probably got...a few minutes...at best.”
“Gods,” I breathed, mind racing as I leaned over him, ready to do whatever it took to stop this. “I’m gonna fix this. Just hang on.”
“Don’t you even—” he rasped, grabbing my shirt and preventing me from coming any closer, from sucking the darkness out of his system. He grimaced as the veins worked their way under his skin. “Don’t even fucking think about it... She can’t... She can’t lose both of us.”
“Don’t—” My voice broke as I grabbed his hand. “Don’t do this, Micah.”
“Sorry,” he said, blood rolling from his lips down his chin as he grabbed my free hand and placed his dagger in my palm. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
His skin grew cold against mine, blood gushing from his wound too fast. His eyes fluttered closed before he grimaced, his fangs elongating as he cried out. “Fuck. Don’t let me change.”
“Don’t do this,” I begged him, my vision blurring as I held him. “Don’t make me put you down.”
He sagged, chest heaving, and he lifted his eyes to me. “She...”
I watched him, mind latching onto that single word as his voice fell short. “What?”
Air slipped from his lungs, and the dark veins faded as his body sagged in my arms, his grip on my hand where he’d forced his dagger loosening.
“Micah?”
He didn’t respond.
“No...” I whispered, my hands shaking, tears flooding my vision as I looked between his eyes, but they didn’t meet mine, didn’t look back.
“Micah,” I begged. “Say something.”
He didn’t, didn’t speak, didn’t look my way.
He just continued to stare up at the storm clouds above us.
I cried out, holding his lifeless body against me as I cursed The Fates, cursed the gods, cursed anyone and everyone at the chance I might finally bring ruin to the one who had cursed me to suffer as I had, to lose everyone I loved.
Time passed, and I wasn’t sure when I’d finally lost the ability to cry, when I finally scooped him into my arms. My body had grown numb to the icy chill that had once held me in its clutches, the rain continuing its onslaught, rolling down my cheeks as if the sky itself was mourning at my side, replacing the tears I couldn’t bring myself to cry any longer.
I held him as I walked aimlessly, each step kicking up fragments of memories, moments we’d shared. His smile replaced the lifeless expression staring up at me, a smile that would forever haunt me, just as Calliope haunted me... Just as Lucia haunted me.
Distant shouts reached my ears, their words muddled by the rain, but his roaring silence held me captive.
Lights pierced the darkness from the alleys ahead of me, movement bleeding together as the world slowed, but I didn’t stop walking, couldn’t stop walking.
I had to get him to safety, had to ensure his remains were safeguarded until he could be sent to Elysium.
I’d long ago lost faith that any sort of paradise awaited us when we departed this hell, but Thalia.
.. She did. She would want that—to see him laid to rest, soul sent off as every warrior had before him .
Zephyr appeared before me, his mouth moving, but no sound reached my ears. His movements were a blur as he grasped my arms, wide eyes falling to Micah’s body. “Damien! They’re here!”
Bodies cloaked in black swarmed the street around us, booted steps lost to the roar of the rain. Damien rushed to us, stopping short when his eyes found Micah. He cursed and whipped around, arms flying out. “Marcus is still out there! I want him found. Now!”
“Barrett,” Zephyr muttered, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “I’ll take him.”
“No,” I whispered, clutching him tighter to my chest as I brushed past him.
Warriors rushed past me in every direction as Zephyr and Damien shouted orders. Lupai yipped and barked as they ran through the streets, darkness nipping at their heels as they hunted.
And I continued walking.