34. An uninvited sleepover #3
“Fine.” Rolling my eyes, I walk off. I notice a small gain of magic as my created weapon dissolves, along with another whisk of energy over my shoulder, despite leaving the crystal dagger lingering above him.
Reaching the room and grabbing his book, I feel tingles pulse around my fingers as though it’s humming.
Better yet, singing. Am I tripping? Placing an ear on its cover, I hear nothing.
“Yeah, it’s been a long day. I’m hearing things.
Thanks, Hemera.” I’m not letting it go that she is the cause of these long days.
Okay, not the cause, but she could have stopped it.
Jogging back, I discover Blaise now standing at the wall-length window, staring up at the moon.
“Hey.” I reach for his attention. “Are you okay?” When he doesn’t respond, I call out again, “Blaise, can you hear me?” Rubbing his arm, I use a delicate touch in hopes of anchoring him to this reality.
Unbeknownst, my aura slides beneath his skin.
Waves flutter amidst his body, searching for a similar connection.
I have no clue of what made it possible as Blaise returns, facing me and wearing an expression like he needs to write something down.
“You okay, Ghost?” I ask, relinquishing a shy smile. “Where’d your mind take you?”
“Ghost?” he asks, frowning.
“Yep.” I emphasize the ‘P,’ popping my lips. “One minute you’re here, and the next you’re gone. Point in hand, like a ghost.” He ponders for a few seconds, and I applaud myself for stumping him.
“I like it.” He grins
“Seriously though, are you okay? You had me worried for a bit.”
“I am now.” He releases a breath and stares back out my window. “It’s a full moon, and the Gods are reaching out to me more and more. Their demands are strengthening beneath its luminosity whilst fogging my visions, making them less clear. ”
Locked on his staggering gaze, I notice a glow of green tinting his different, multi-toned eyes.
“Vision visions? Like seeing the future?” I wonder if they’re congruent with Ethan’s sigil.
If those are visions at all. “And you speak with the Gods? If so, I have a plethora of questions.” We are far past pretending and make believe.
If magic, titaness beasts, vampires, and walking, soul-stealing zombies are real, why not this?
“Did you grab the book?” he asks, redirecting to me, and I gasp. Blaise’s irises begin swirling and mixing. Each one blends their colors as he stares without blinking. The previous green tint is gone.
“Hey.” Reaching for his hand, I say, “Come back to me.”
My aura, once again, seeps into him and finds the ball of his own, and I feel tickling as though bubbles are popping on my arms. I feel it clear as day. How am I doing this?
“I’m okay,” he says, snapping out of it, and I jump from being spooked. “Thank you.”
“How can we cease this long enough to converse?” I ask, growing more worried by the second. What if it becomes bad enough he can’t be pulled out of it.
“The moon…I need to get away from it. Perhaps coming here was a mistake, better suited for another time now that I’m sure you’re immune to forgetting me.”
“No, you came so we can talk, and you’re here now. Let’s figure this out.”
Faith, or is it hope, gleams in his response. “What do you suggest?”
Hope, the most fickle and dangerous emotion of them all. Hold on to it long enough and death will follow from believing in false desires. But faith…that requires belief in oneself, something higher, or in this case–someone.
And in this inconceivable moment, Blaise’s faith in my help won’t end in failure.
“May I?” I hold out a hand, and he answers by placing his palm over mine .
“Wait, you should have this back,” he says, handing over my crystal dagger.
“When the hell–” I look over by the door and notice it missing. “You know what, another time. Follow me.” Pulling him along, I dissolve my creation and rush from the living area into my room.
Once here, we detach, and magic flows into my fingers. On a thought, I make blackout curtains materialize over the window, stationed on a stainless-steel rod. “How’s this?” I turn towards him, praying it worked.
He closes his eyes for a moment, and I nibble on my lip while the bad habit of twiddling my thumbs commences. I’m accustomed to failing myself and others, so if one of their Gods are looking out for me, this will work.
“You’re right,” he says, opening them. “The voices are much quieter. Thank you, Darling.” He leans forward, wrapping his arms around me.
“Oh, this is happening,” I whisper as my posture mixes between stiffening and giggling. But my aura senses he needs this, and well, fuck it. I embrace him back. Damn, he smells good. Hey, stop sniffing him. You’re making it weird.
“Okay, let’s talk,” he murmurs, breaking away with a half-smile and gesturing if he can sit on my bed. I love manners. He’s expressively more caring than the others. Okay, Blaise. I do an internal happy dance. Rosie would love him.
Once we are both situated, he opens up about his book and why he is always writing.
We spend hours going over every detail, and damn do I feel bad for assuming.
Apparently, Blaise writes not to be messy or in everyone’s business, but because he can see future results from decisions made in that moment.
Every choice opens one of two outcomes, but never more than two. He is firm on that. The sole problem is each path renders a different result. In some cases, they both lead towards an identical ending, but he can’t tell at first glance.
Which brings back the reason why he annotates it all. Also, there are numbers written down, which he discloses aren’t page details, but points in time. My mind struggles to fathom what he has been dealing with, and impressive doesn’t come close to describing his gifts.
“It’s a lot, I know,” he breathes, staring at my curtains.
“Why tell me all this, especially now?” I’m not ungrateful for this information, but it does beg the question, why.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” Blaise catches my gaze, snaring it in a firm hold. “You allowed me to put faith in you with something this simple,” he says, pointing at my curtains. “A feat not many can claim. I guess it’s my way of giving back. Allowing you inside my mind by knowing a piece of me.”
Well shit, when he puts it that way.
“I appreciate it, but you were hurting, and I’d like to think you’d do the same for me.”
He nods. “All I can say for now, without changing one of your paths, is that the Gods blessed and cursed me with this gift. And now, I may have found a key to figuring out my purpose. Here, let me show you.” He reaches out to take my hand.
Hesitant and stalling, I watch a green light wrap around my wrist with such a gentle touch, fighting against it doesn’t cross my mind. Instead, I return a cheeky grin at watching his magic in action. It pulls my hand closer, and the last words I hear before everything goes black is, “Trust me.”
Power explodes inside my core. Familiarity follows as I sense two auras, my own and another. Images flash, and I hitch my breath. Despite not being able to see him, I can still feel his very real hand. I squeeze, not letting go of the only tether to an existence I’m no longer a part of.
“It’s okay, let it in.” His voice acts as serenity and stillness, but my chest is pounding out of sync in one hyperventilating breath I can’t catch. Time moves forward and backward in tandem. Life, death, creation, and destruction all blend in havoc and balance.
Until it stops, and I’m surrounded by a void of ethereal light. An impossible possibility only someone with divinity could manifest. Light and dark in perfect harmony.
“Kyra.” I hear. Her angelic pitch stretches out to me–near yet so far. “The Temple of Seventeen, come search for me. Time is not on our side.”
“W-Who are you?” Nothing answers, but I know it’s real. This place, this moment. Whatever or whomever’s energy resides here dances over my skin and absorbs into my aura.
I call out once more, but like flicking a light, my vision shrouds in black until my bedroom comes into view, unaware my eyes were open the entire time.
Blaise’s cheeks are coated in sweat, his body wavering side to side on the verge of tipping over.
“What’s wrong?” I haul him close then lay him back with a pillow behind his head. “Here, lay down for a second and catch your breath.”
It’s big talk for me after what I just experienced. My head spins as I watch him with blurring vision.
“Don’t…get all sweet on me now,” he states, chuckling after.
“Hush.” I chuckle in return. “I’m far from sweet, but after everything you’ve told and shown me, you have to admit we’re somehow linked.” I lay beside him once he is situated, taking solace as I stare at the rise and fall of his chest. “Not mentioning Haven’s Hole.”
“Right, the dance,” Blaise mumbles.
“Care…to elaborate on it?” Now I feel the grip of tiredness taking hold.
Calmness pulls me under with a sweet promise of rest, pressing the weight of my lids together, but a sudden jolt of energy forces my body to sit up with eyes open.
All too familiar, I recognize the Book of Bonds magic, and I freeze in place. A chill rushes down my spine as though the room is freezing over, and once more, darkness consumes me in a blink.
I try moving but this hold of ethereal energy has my limbs going numb, and my thoughts racing, until a dull light blurs into focus.
I blink, the only granted motion, and I’m suddenly staring at an outlandish ceiling.
Much like mine in color, but the pattern, atmosphere and spiritedness is different.
This isn’t my room, so where am I? “Hello?” I call out, but instead of being greeted with an answer, a growling grunt returns, ended by a rapid series of blinks, not by my doing.
Am I looking through someone else’s eyes?
I gain my answer from a few more blinks like I’m obligated to sit front row in their mind. Muted. “Hello, can you hear me?”
Their lids close for good, returning me to my own, and panic sets in. Alarmed, I leap off the bed. “Blai–” But he is sound asleep, tucked under my blankets. I begin pacing back and forth, alive and far from tired after the act of invading someone’s privacy.
“Okay, let’s figure this out.” I loosen my arms as though the action will help me think.
But it helps with anxiety, so I do it anyway.
“First, you experienced Blaise’s magic. Rather his visions or…
” *Sigh* “Slow down, Kyra. You experienced his magic in some form or shape.” I stop to glance at him again.
“But he fell asleep like an asshole before telling you what that was all about.”
“Caught the teacher giving his eyes to a student.” A text pings, muffled under the blankets, but I’m well aware who Teacher’s Pet by Melanie Martinez belongs to. Caspian.
Why is he up? Going for my phone, I stop midway. No, one thing at a time.
I return to pacing and pondering. “Next, we were dozing off, or so it appeared, then you felt an unmistakable force coursing through your body. The Book of Bonds .” I gasp loud enough to wake Blaise.
“Was that my eternal bond magic!” Whisper shouting, I hear my heart pound loudly, and trepidation replaces my blood flow. “The magic is fucking body jumping?”
Nothing logical can be made of this, and above everything else, I have no damn clue whose eyes I was seeing through. As it stands, from what I know, Ethan and Alex both occupy House Death.
Turning my head up, I view my ceiling out of sheer confidence that it wasn’t me looking at it. I rotate to Blaise who is sound asleep, snoring in peace. Aww cute. “Damn it.” This self-diagnosed ADHD isn’t helping. Who’s to say he didn’t wake up? However brief.
Bottom line, this nightmare is real. I just unlocked my eternal bond magic, and though he is sleeping now, one of the three in this building is written by their Gods to be forever mine.
“Shit.”