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“Aw, come on, Kitten, that was just a regular Tuesday night for me.” He drawled while managing to look excessively bored with us all. Meredith turned towards him, disapproval radiating from her. He winked at her and blew her a kiss. “I’d love a chance to tie you up, sweetheart.” He purred.
“Shet up your mouth!” Conrad snarled, leaping from where he had been perched tensely on the couch. I tugged on the line that connected me to Rycon in an attempt to get him to shut up, but the metaphysical effort made my head swim. I stumbled and Meredith caught me.
“Maybe you should sit down.” She said kindly, leading me to the couch Conrad had just vacated.
“Are you okay?” He asked, forgetting about Rycon.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little bit dizzy.” I sunk into the couch heavily and rubbed my temples. When I opened my eyes, both Conrad and Meredith were watching me carefully, worry etched into their faces. Rycon, on the other hand, was watching the magick folk hover over me, his eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong with her?” He asked suspiciously. Both Conrad and Meredith ignored him.
“I’ll make you some tea,” Meredith said before gliding into the kitchen to put on a pot of hot water.
“Wi need tuh talk ‘bout last night,” Conrad said, sitting on the couch beside me. “Wi need a game plan.”
I shrugged. “I don’t see what there is to do. You said yourself that there’s no way out of a life debt.”
“Not dat wi know of, but Mer and mi reached out tuh di other members of Di Board last night, an’ one of di senior representatives mentioned dat he might have a solution.”
Rycon scoffed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. There is no solution, to a life debt. All you can do is pay it. Sorry to break it to you Kitten, but we’re going to the other side of The Veil to fight that prick’s war whether we like it or not.”
“Yuh cyaan shut up!?” Conrad exclaimed. I could tell by Conrad’s increasing use of patois he was obviously at his wit's end with Rycon.
However, if I wanted to be perfectly honest with myself, it felt like a good thing to have an opposing opinion around for this conversation. It occurred to me that all the information I had received up to date had come from the magick folk. As good as their intentions were, it was bound to be biased.
“It’s okay, Conrad.” I said calmly, “Please continue. Who is this senior member?”
“His name is Kieran. He is a very powerful wizard from a very old bloodline.” Conrad explained. “He lives in England, but he said he could be in Toronto within the next day or two with some coven members. Maybe with Mr. Abbey, miself, and Meredith, it be enough.” The pot started to whistle, and Meredith went to tend to the tea.
“Hold up,” Rycon said.
Conrad let out an exasperated groan. “Wha’ now?”
“Which bloodline, exactly, is this Kieran from?” I glanced over at the shifter, who seemed more interested than he should have been in the conversation. Conrad hesitated and glanced at Meredith before answering.
“Nightshade,” he said, and Rycon’s skin rippled with pricks of what looked like hair rubbing at his skin from the inside. Meredith passed a cup of tea over to me. I wrapped my hands around the warm surface and watched Rycon warily over the rim of the mug.
He pushed up from the wall, his feline pupils dilating. “You guys are insane.” It came out low and controlled; the animal-like growl that laced his words raised gooseflesh on my arms. It was easy to forget how dangerous he was when he was constantly making fun of everyone around him.
A memory came shooting down the chain that anchored him to me. I reeled back from the freshness of his pain, though I knew what I was seeing had happened long ago.
A tiny house was on fire. Its pastel paint was peeling off the walls under the white flames. I was seeing the memory through Rycon’s eyes and I was screaming, the salt from my tears flooding my mouth.
“Mami! Papi!” Rycon cried until his voice broke and he ran for the burning house. A young girl who I immediately knew was his sister, grabbed his chubby infant hand and held him away from the flames. The fire was so hot it burned his face from where he stood on the cobbled street. I heard his thoughts as if they were my own. He would murder the magick folk that were responsible for this. He would kill them for what they had done.
“You can’t save them, Rycon.” His sister choked past her sobs. “They’re gone. They’re gone.”
I snapped back to the present as Rycon snarled at me. His eyes flashed, and I knew he was horrified that I had seen that memory. I guess I now knew why he hated the magick folk so much. My stomach churned at the violence. It was hard to imagine the scuffed renegade as a chubby toddler screaming for his dead parents, but my heart broke at the thought of it. I saw him register the pity that welled in my eyes and understood his resentment of it. I averted my gaze and pretended I hadn’t seen the painful moment from his past.
He flipped us all off.
“You’re all godsdamned, batshit crazy. Talking shit about Amon and his cronies and then enabling a psychopath from Nightshade?” Rycon shook his head and sneered. I suddenly realized that he seemed like his usual self to Conrad and Meredith. They hadn’t seen the memory. I wondered what went on through his head on a day-to-day basis. Was his personality just a defense mechanism? After enough years of therapy and counselors telling me that's why I acted out, I felt disinclined to believe that. But maybe they had been onto something.
“The Nightshade line has been politically neutral for centuries.” Conrad argued. I glanced at him, noting that his tone was off. It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself, not just Rycon and I.
“Really?” Rycon asked, taking another step forward. “For centuries? There’s never been one incident to make you question their position?”
Conrad stood up. “Who is you to chat ‘bout positions? Yuh just do whatever the rass yuh want without consideration fah nobody else. Yuh was going to murdah Rayven without a second thought except for how it would benefit you.”
