Chapter 29 #2
He lunges forward, stretching the muscles now in new configurations. His claws rake the floor and leave gouges in their wake. He lopes toward the cabinets, whirls around, and hurtles toward the other side of the room with a rumble that fills the space.
His head swings around. His eyes glint with another scan of the room.
Either because he’s held on to enough control to follow my instructions or because they’re the only other living objects in the room, the wolf’s gaze fixes on the plants. My stance relaxes even more with a wave of relief.
I planned this well. That first burst of his power will surge out of him, and then—
Footsteps scrape against the floor outside.
As my pulse hiccups, Cole’s head jerks up. His eyes narrow in the direction of the door. Another growl thunders from his lungs.
The footsteps stop. “Is someone there?”
Fuck. It sounds like a kid. One of the misguided radiators, maybe, sneaking in to do some private worship?
If her imaginary gods existed, I’d say they want her dead.
Heart thudding, I walk over and rest a hand on Cole’s back. So gentle the contact couldn’t possibly be considered a threat.
He doesn’t growl again, but his eyes don’t leave the door.
Will the rest of his power work even if he can’t see her? What if she magics her way in here?
I cast my focus toward the tickle of ephemera around us, compelling a surge of it into a warding spell.
No time for a soft touch. I hurl the effect through the doorway.
Get away. Get away, as quickly as you can.
Before I can tell whether my first effort has worked, I grope for something to distract Cole—anything that would divert his attention from the girl outside.
The plants are hardly animated enough when there’s a living being moving around nearby. The room holds nothing else alive except me and him, exactly to avoid this possibility.
With a flare of panic, I snatch at all the remaining ephemera I can quickly reach and whip it through the basement in the opposite direction from the hall. Saturate it with a promise of warmth and food and safety that should lure any creatures lurking in the walls.
A moment later, a mouse comes scurrying out from behind the storage cabinets.
It’s so small and fragile-looking with its tiny pink ears and spindly feet that guilt jabs my stomach.
Footsteps thump outside, getting fainter this time—but Cole’s ears swivel with the sound. His lips draw back from his fangs.
With a lurch of my pulse, I drag my magical lure in front of the mouse, tempting it farther out across the floor, shielding the scent of the predator looming nearby. As it darts forward, Cole’s head jerks toward the movement.
Yes, that’s right. Here’s a much easier target.
The mouse comes to a stop in front of one of the plants, its whiskers trembling. I hold it there, fear and regret congealing inside me.
Better this little animal than the girl outside.
Maybe Cole’s glim couldn’t have attacked the girl through the wall anyway. But maybe he’d have smashed the door down to get to her if I hadn’t offered a somewhat compelling alternative.
The glint that showed in his eyes earlier flares into a sudden glow. The mouse’s body twitches.
I release the magic corralling it, but it’s too late for the poor creature. It stumbles away and lurches with a squeaky sort-of cough.
Its legs crumple under it. It slumps over on its furry side.
Cole shivers too. He gives a soft snarl, shakes his wolfish frame, and digs his claws deeper into the linoleum.
Then, with a deeper shudder, he hunches over.
The contraction into his human form is nearly as unnerving to witness as the initial transformation. His canine snout pulls into his face; his body shrinks in on itself. Fabric bursts across his skin in place of the fur.
With a grunt, he sinks onto the floor on his ass. Still staring at the mouse.
He rubs his hand over his face. Glances at the gouges in the linoleum. Finally seems to recognize me still standing a couple of feet away.
His voice comes out in a croak. “What—what was that? This feeling came over me… Like I could see every awful thing that might happen to it…”
He looks at the mouse again. “I did that. I saw a sudden aneurism that could burst… and it happened. I made it happen, didn’t I?”
I offer a tight smile. “I told you it was hard to explain. The best we could figure is that when you’re in wolf form, you can sense the worst possible fates that could happen to a living thing—and push any of those fates forward.
You found a few references to similar glims in the past…
People have called lucents like that a ‘fenris.’”
“A fenris,” Cole repeats, still dazed. His gaze twitches toward the door. “There was someone out there—”
I haven’t heard a peep from the girl since I warded her away. “I think I scared her off. We’ll have to keep an eye out while we’re leaving, but she’s probably hurried all the way off campus.”
Cole blinks a few times. He pulls himself to his feet.
Peering down at the mouse and the plants next to it, his brow furrows. “My glim works on living things. You wanted me to give a plant a bad fate.”
I splay my arms. “It seemed like the least horrifying route.”
His attention snaps to me. His face tightens even more. “What if I’d done it to you?”
The horror in his expression batters my heart nearly as much as his devotion earlier.
I take a step toward him, my hand itching to rise to his face. To touch him all the ways I can now without worrying about the consequences.
“I knew I’d be fine. I’m your match. I was the nearest person to you when we went through this in my old reality, and you looked right past me to someone else.”
Cole’s jaw tenses. “I killed a person the first time you woke up my glim?”
“Not exactly killed…”
“What happened, Elodie?”
I make an apologetic grimace. “It was one of the assistants overseeing the activation. He… He died of a sudden meningitis infection the next day.”
His voice comes out in a growl nearly as harsh as his wolf’s. “That’s fucking killed.”
“It wasn’t you, though. And we made sure it didn’t happen that way this time.”
“You didn’t know.” Cole grabs my arms by the elbow, squeezing for emphasis, his gaze searing into mine. “I’m not him. This isn’t the same world. You didn’t know for sure that I’d pass you over.”
I try to recover my smile. “Why would it be any different? I’m still your match. I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t have! You shouldn’t—” An anguished noise escapes him. “It would never be worth even the tiniest risk. If I’d hurt you while I was grappling with my glim—”
“But you didn’t,” I protest. “Not even slightly. And even if you did, I’ve got my own glim, remember? I’d probably have projected it onto you, and then you’d have been the one who ended up hurt. So really I was risking you. Is that okay?”
“You don’t know that for sure either,” he snaps back. “If I never used my power on you before, there’s no telling how it interacts with your glim. Don’t you ever take a chance like that again, especially not when you’re depending on me.”
I can’t restrain my flinch. Cole lets go of me, echoing my reaction with a wince.
He turns away, closing his eyes and swiping his hand over them. “It’s done now. Go home and stay out of trouble until we figure out what to do next. I’ll clean this mess up.”
An ache swells in my chest. “Cole—”
His tone turns hard and cold as ice. “Just go.”
The chill in his expression makes me shrivel up inside.
“It’s not that he doesn’t trust you,” Imaginary Other Cole says. “He doesn’t trust himself. I never did.”
Even if that’s true, it doesn’t make his anger any easier to endure. Blinking away a burn of tears, I march out of the room.