Chapter 32 #3
“Yeah, some of them have been living like this for a really, really long time.” Vega followed his gaze to the children’s toys in the corner—dolls, a fake tea set, some dried-up coloring markers.
Bridger looked away, but Vega could feel his heartache like it was her own.
“One of the bathrooms is this way.” She changed the subject, directing him to the larger of the two.
“It’s kinda dark in this one. I think there’s a.
..” She trailed off, checking under the sink for the old lamp with the rusted handle.
It didn’t have a wick or bulb—it was meant to be used by fire and light-wielders, using their abilities to create their own light source.
Vega learned pretty early on she could pop a small spark of lightning inside, and a glow of blue electricity would bounce around in there for a while before it flickered out.
The blue light danced against the glass, casting a new shadow every second from its constant movement.
She smiled at it, happy to see the simplest of things sometimes. Being stripped of all the menial things she’d once done without thinking stacked up.
“Remember the time we knocked over a lamp in a bathroom?” Bridger asked, sliding inside Vega’s mind. “It really ruined the moment.”
Vega looked up from the dancing lightning, and Bridger was leaning against the doorframe, watching her.
Ugh, if he doesn’t stop with the leaning…
“You mean, when you got electrocuted for the first time and acted like a total baby about it?” Vega asked, batting her eyelashes a few extra times while feigning innocence. The whole time her mind wandered to what they’d been doing in that bathroom.
Or trying to do…
Bridger placed a hand over his heart. “Not all of us are a live wire with our own personal electric grid.”
Vega’s lips quirked to the side. “Wimp.”
She felt boxed in the skinny bathroom with Bridger blocking the door. Something inside her flared with excitement while nerves fluttered her stomach.
Death’s shadow chuffed happily from the pit like Vega had heard Khort do a million times.
Death. Us.
If Vega had paid closer attention…
Death suits you.
She would have understood sooner…
I think I’ll let you have her.
He wasn’t talking to Vega when he’d said that last part. He was talking to Death because it was already inside her.
It finally clicked.
I became my destiny. I became Death.
And Death belonged to him—he’d told Vega so.
Death’s growl shook Vega’s chest like it was her own. She heard her voice in her own head like she’d thought the words again.
We belong to no one.
Vega saw her face pale in the mirror’s reflection. I’m never going to be alone inside my head again.
Bridger read her like a book, pushing himself off the frame. “What’s going on with you?” Vega felt the heat from his body as he slowly crossed the room to her.
Vega slid past, turning to face him on the other side of the open door. She ignored his question. “I’ll be on the other end of the house. Take your time.” Her boots squeaked against the damp linoleum as she fled Bridger’s hungry stare.
She felt it too. The need. The want. The ache.
It felt as if she couldn’t control it. Like if she didn’t act on it while in the same room, she might combust.
Not being alone inside her mind started to wear on Vega. She couldn’t escape Death’s presence… It lived inside her now. There was no Vega without Death.
She closed the bathroom door—a little too hard—locked it, and fled to grip the sides of the pedestal sink. She stared at herself in the mirror, gulping down a few deep breaths while focusing on the other abilities inside her.
Her electric pulse sizzled against her skin, and the wind outside the broken window acted as her own personal breeze.
Vega allowed her original powers the opportunity to ground her, lowering her pulse. “How do I block them out?” she asked Bridger.
The idea of anyone accidentally seeing her naked because she couldn’t keep them out had her reaching to Bridger for help.
His chuckle made her shiver. “It’s the same idea as shutting the door connecting us, but it’s from the shield around your mind instead. You get that from me, by the way.” His voice sounded proud, and she could hear the smile on his face.
Vega closed her eyes, standing in the middle of the room—listening, feeling.
“Can you feel the shield’s veil? It’s usually on the outside of your actual power.”
She breathed through her layers, bypassing the hum of her electricity, the thunder of her storms, and skipped over the pit like it didn’t exist… and on the very outside was a thin sheet fluttering against it all. “Got it,” she told Bridger.
“Good.” The word felt like a purr. “Now grab the edges and wrap it around your mind.”
Vega thought of it like making a bed, struggling to find all the corners before it shot back one way and she was left trapped in the middle.
She got frustrated and stomped her foot like a toddler—no, she wasn’t proud of it, but Vega had never liked when she couldn’t immediately perfect something.
“I heard that.” Bridger reminded her she wasn’t actually alone in the small house.
“Fuck off.” Vega snagged the edges again and wrapped them around each other, tying them together like a sack. When she opened her eyes, she felt the veil of privacy.
She was alone.
Not even Death could reach her.
Vega slid down the wall and sat in silence for a while before turning the shower on.