Chapter 13 Whitney
Whitney
It’s called the Bannister effect.
Scientists believed it was impossible for a human to run a mile in under four minutes.
But Bannister had to show them the impossible was possible first.
Xolotl said he couldn’t be changed, and he insisted he was death itself, and I didn’t believe it, at least, not until the missiles disappeared inside of him, only to reappear later.
Not until I saw him snap his fingers, and just like that, an entire line of protected, strong, healthy soldiers dropped like dominoes tumbling to the ground.
I was stupid to think this was like running a four-minute mile.
I can’t will death to change. I can’t do anything about Xolotl and his plans. I’m just an anchor he’s dragging along, and not even a very good one. I doubt I’ve even slowed him down in any real way.
And a part of me doesn’t even want to try anymore.
Something about watching him defeat all those jets, all those drones, and all those soldiers without even breaking a sweat was beautiful in a way I can’t even articulate.
Why was it so gorgeous? I’m not sure. I’ve always found it breathtaking to watch something or someone doing something extremely well. Is it as simple as that?
An eagle in flight.
Mustangs galloping across the plains.
Gymnasts executing difficult movements with ease and strength.
They always inspire and excite me. I should’ve expected that when I saw death doing his worst, when I saw him doing the very things he was created to do, that I would find it beautiful. I’m definitely at least a little broken inside.
But my hope that I could pull a Bannister and somehow change the future is gone. I’m not Bannister. If anything, I’m more of a Madam Curie. I might help discover something, but I’m going to die doing it. In fact, that’s my final hope, and it’s not a very strong one.
Surely, when he bonded someone who turned out to be as obnoxious as I’ve been, it had to have occurred to Xolotl that he could’ve just done what he does and killed me.
There’s a reason he didn’t, and once I find out what it is, maybe I can use my own pathetic life to somehow stymie him in some additional way.
Or maybe it’ll be yet another fail in a long string of failures in my life.
It should have been Izzy. She’s great at finding solutions.
Or Emery. She’s so sweet and good that she could’ve turned this around.
He’d probably have fallen in love with her or something, like the lion falling for the lamb.
But no, it’s just little old broken and strange Whitney Brooks, so humanity’s doomed.
Or who knows? Maybe Xolotl’s right and what he’s doing will help all of humanity.
Perhaps he’ll improve the lives of all the people he doesn’t massacre.
I’m just a stupid human, so maybe I just can’t see it.
I actually thought he might kill me when I started calling him stupid.
All I’ve learned so far is that making him angry isn’t enough.
If I want him to kill me, I’ll have to take it further.
I’m thinking of just how far I could press him to get him to kill me when I finally see a sign that says there’s a hotel.
Xolotl doesn’t sleep, but all this murder and bloodshed wore me out.
I feel like I might pass out any second.
Plus, I need some time away from him to think about how I could somehow die in a way that will hurt him. Perhaps just before the US military attacks I can work something out. They will attack again in the morning, right? Surely.
The real question is whether Leonid and his friends will be with them.
That’s what I was most worried about earlier, that my brother-in-law might also be snapped out of existence.
How would I ever tell Izzy that I couldn’t stop it?
But it was just basic soldiers, no shifters.
And then I felt even more awful for being relieved.
Xolotl’s realized where we are. He turns toward me with a strange look on his face. “Will we watch Gilmore Girls?”
I shove the car into park and snap my head toward him. “Why on earth would I do that with you? Hopefully they’ll have two rooms, and I can spend at least a few hours apart from you.”
“I forbid it,” he says. “We will share a room.”
“No.” That was our only option last time, but I need time away from him this time, like fish need water to breathe. “I’ll never do that again. I’d rather die.” And in fact, that’s what I’ll be trying to figure out how to do.
He shoots across the center console of the Tahoe toward me.
“Whitney Brooks, you are mine. You seem to have forgotten that, but you’re not my boss.
I’m yours. I own you. You will share a room with me, and what’s more, you’ll share a bed with me again.
” His face is so close that I can smell him—a strange smell of gun smoke and leather mixed with sage or sandalwood or something like that.
I hated it at first, but it’s growing on me. “I liked sharing a bed with you.”
What a strange thing to say—I hate that he’s growing on me. “I will not share anything with you. You can just kill me first.”
He looks at my mouth, then, and the strangest shiver runs through my entire body, from my head right down to my toes.
Something inside of me clenches, and I want to lean toward him and press my mouth against his.
I want to see how he tastes and whether his mouth is still the same strange mix of sharp and smoky.
But before I can do anything that monumentally stupid, there’s a terrible racket outside. “Where in the world are you, brother?”
Brother? Is the person outside calling for Xolotl? “Brother?” Surely not. “Is someone you know here?”
There’s another crashing sound then, this one even louder. “Where is this? Are we on the top of a mountain?” A sequence of words I don’t understand at all follows. “You have the worst timing, Ta’xet, I swear. Always.”
That’s a name Xolotl said he goes by sometimes, so they must be his brothers, but how are they here? How’d they even find us?
“I saw you talking to your family,” Xolotl mutters. “I never should have called mine, though. It was a mistake. Sorry.”
I’m guessing he hasn’t apologized very often in his life, because why would he? “Who are they?”
“Xolotl!” One of them—the second one—is shrieking. “Get out here now. You can’t summon us and then make us wait.”
“Why did you call them?” I ask.
“You will stay in here.” He frowns. “Don’t move a hair.” He climbs out of the car and shuts the door behind him.
“Wow, you’re using cars?” The first man shakes and a cloud of dirt dissipates around him, kind of like Pigpen, if that dirty little kid was a super hot, chocolate-caramel skinned god with long, curly hair and a white smile. “I’ve wanted to try them, but—”
“Pluto’s always been a coward.” The other man’s taller, and he looks surlier, too.
He’s definitely hairier, but it works for him.
His massive arms look like tree trunks. His hair’s short but it’s thick, and it’s straight, falling like perfect curtains around his face.
It’s shiny, even in the starlight. “Who’s in there?
” He immediately turns toward the Tahoe, staring right at me.
I drop down, ducking below the window line.
“Doesn’t matter.” Xolotl’s voice is even less friendly than usual.
The larger of the two brothers chuckles. “Oh, I think it does, quite a bit in fact. In thousands and thousands of years, I’ve never seen you travel with any human, not even your champion.” I can barely hear him, but he must be talking quite loudly if I can hear him at all.
There’s a strange sound, like a slamming and then grunting, and I pop back up, more curious than I am terrified.
Xolotl’s fighting with his beefy, straight-haired brother, punching him repeatedly right in the face, sending his tree-like limbs flailing.
They roll around a little, the ground groaning in places as they slam into it.
“Enough!” The curly-haired brother, Pluto maybe, has his hands flung wide.
Both of the other two are suspended in mid-air, glaring at one another.
“Tell us who she is.” Pluto taps his foot. “We can all feel her.”
“She’s mine,” Xolotl says. “So it doesn’t matter.”
“Yours?” Straight-hair’s lip twitches. “As in, you took a slave?”
“She’s my champion,” Xolotl says.
Pluto drops them both, rolling his eyes. “Why didn’t you just say that, idiot?”
Xolotl sets him on fire, or at least, I’m guessing he’s the one who did it. Within seconds, the flames wink out, but Pluto’s glaring at him too, now. Keeping up with this interaction’s confusing.
“At least tell us why you summoned us here.” Straight-hair folds his arms, gold vambraces at his wrists glinting in the low light. “Or I’m going to attack you again.”
“It was entertaining,” Xolotl says. “But I need a moment before I can explain.” He glances my way and then turns back toward his brothers. “I’ll be right back, and I know this is a strange request, but I need you not to kill anyone while I’m gone.”
“Not kill anyone?” Pluto glances at straight-hair. “Oookay.”
“Just for a bit, and just in this immediate area.” Xolotl sighs. “I’ll explain that, too.” He yanks the door open, and I nearly fall out. To keep from tumbling into the dirt, I brace myself against him with both hands, palms out.
His hands circle my wrists, and his eyes lighten. “You’re alright.”
“Of course I am.” I yank my hands away and straighten. “Am I about to meet your brothers?”
“No way.” He spins me around, his hands on my shoulders, and half-pushes me toward the small hotel. “You’re getting your own room, just like you wanted, and you’re going to sleep.”
I splutter. “Why the sudden change of heart?” As if I don’t know.
He won’t let me turn back around though. He marches me straight ahead until we get into the lobby where the clerk’s hiding under her desk.
“You can come out,” I say. “It’s safe for the time being.”