12. Ivy
12
IVY
“No,” Bram states, arms folded, fully dressed in black combat pants and a tight black tee as I march back into the bedroom, wearing only my pink fluffy towel.
“No?” I ask, although my voice goes up a notch, or five.
“You know what I mean. I know what you’re going to say. The answer is a definitive no.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say innocently, to the amusement of Tate.
He comes up behind me and plants a kiss on my shoulder. The marking of his name on my back flares up white hot, and I gasp. The brand has been relatively dormant since I came back, but now it seems to be back in full force.
“He’s been practising that since you left to shower,” Torin drawls from over by the window. He, too, is dressed and is staring out over the Thornfield campus with a melancholy expression.
“Fuck you,” Bram snarls, magick sparking at his fingertips.
“Enough, guys. We need to be on the same page here, and clearly, we aren’t. Bram, if you aren’t giving up those powers, what do you suggest we do to get Morrigan out of our hair?” I put it to him straight. The ball is in his court.
“I don’t know yet, okay? But giving up this power isn’t the answer. We need every advantage we can get against Life.”
I sigh, dropping my towel and reaching for some clothes. “And what about the advantage of not having a pissed-off war goddess gunning for us?”
“We can handle Morrigan,” he insists stubbornly.
Tate snorts. “Can we? On top of Life and her minions?”
“Look,” I say, pulling on a tank top and jeans. “I get that you don’t want to give up the power. Your parents, for whatever reason, gave you that grimoire. The power chose to stay with you. But we need to think strategically here. Morrigan is a wild card we can’t afford right now.”
Bram’s jaw clenches. “And what if we need that power to win? What then?”
I meet his gaze steadily. “Then we figure something else out. But right now, Morrigan is a liability we need to neutralise.”
“She’s right,” Torin says, turning from the window. “We’re spread thin as it is. We can’t fight a war on multiple fronts.”
Bram looks between us all, his expression stormy. Finally, he growls, “The trouble is, this power doesn’t want to go back to her.”
I narrow my eyes. “Oh?”
He sighs in exasperation. “You are right when you say it chose to stay with me. It did. It has. Its original mistress was right there beckoning it to her?—”
“Through your mouth,” Tate mutters, and Bram shoots him a death stare.
“… but it wouldn’t go. It chose to stay with me. Personally, I think I need to find out why it decided to do that rather than mess about trying to hand it over against its will.”
That statement gives me pause. Magick, as we know, is sentient. Any way you swing it, it is. If Bram feels that the magick inside him is refusing to go back to Morrigan, then we have to believe him and take that seriously. Wild magick going even wilder is not a danger we need right now.
“Okay, then you need to do some soul-searching. Find out what this magick wants and why it wants to be with you and not her.”
He nods stiffly. “I’ll meditate and connect to it on its level.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, knowing he is pissed off that we are doubting him.
I watch Bram stalk out of the room, his body tense with anger. Part of me wants to go after him, but I know he needs space right now.
“Well, that went well,” Tate mutters sarcastically.
I sigh, running a hand through my damp hair before scooping it up into a ponytail. “It went as planned. We need to know what is going on, and he will find out.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Torin asks, his expression grim.
“Then we deal with that when the time comes,” I say firmly. “For now, we need to focus on rallying this army of souls, and also, it wouldn’t go amiss to try to find out what Life is up to.”
Tate nods. “How do you want to do the soul thing? Summon them all at once?”
I shake my head. “No, I think we need to start smaller. A test group. See how they respond to my commands before we unleash the whole horde.”
“Smart,” Torin agrees. “Where do you want to do this?”
I consider for a moment. “The forest clearing where we fought those escaped souls before. It’s isolated enough that we won’t draw attention.”
“No, Morrigan is tied to that place. She can’t leave,” Tate says.
“Further in then. I don’t want to be too far from the place where I recalled them.”
“When?” Torin asks.
“Now,” I say decisively. “We don’t have time to waste, but first, why are you so sad?”
He blinks. “Sad? I’m not sad.”
“You are solemn, then. What’s on your mind?”
“My mother is outside, waiting in her car. I’m contemplating what the fuck she wants.”
Suspiciously, I peer out to see a fancy black Rolls Royce parked up. “We’d better go see what she wants.”
“We?” he asks, turning to me.
“Yes. We. We aren’t splitting up any more than we already have. This is life or death now, pardon the pun. We stick together.”
His face relaxes as he nods, and we turn away from the window to head downstairs to see whatever it is his mother wants. I can only hope it isn’t more bad news.