“Go ahead and ask how I got it.” As if he can read my mind, Ford smacks his hand against his bad leg and hobbles a few more steps toward me. “No need to stand on ceremony with me, kid.”
My gaze jerks back up to meet his. There’s a challenge in his eyes, a dark rage that’s been brewing for years.
Hewantsme to start this with him—if for no other reason so he can be the one to end it.
I was a fool to hope there could be anything left of the brother I once knew—the boy who snuck into my room when our parents were having one of their epic battles and helped me build a blanket fort. The one who taught me how to play Bullshit and Blackjack and gave me my first cigarette when I was six so I’d puke and never, ever pick up the habit.
Unfortunately,thatboy—the one I loved and idolized—became a man, and that man died a decade ago, set on fire with the mage he burned alive.
My own guilt aside, Fordearnedhis ticket to hell. And I’m guessing he’s not here looking for redemption.
He’s not here at all,I remind myself. Just some projection served up by my guilty conscience. My own nightmares come to life.
“Thanks for the family reunion,” I say, “but I’ve got somewhere to be. Take care of yourself, Ford.”
In a swift move that belies his injuries, nightmare-Ford lunges forward and grabs me by the throat, his eyes wild. “Oh, you can’t walk away from me. It doesn’t work that way—not even here.”
I let him hold me. Let him think I’m still scared of him. “So this is what—a test?”
“Of a sort.”
“I get it. This place fucks with your head, makes you relive the darkest parts of your past. Am I close?”
He releases my throat, grabs hold of my hair instead. Gives me a few good tugs before finally shoving me away. “You always were the smart one in the Redgrave gene pool, you little fuck.”
“Yeah? Well, here I am. Do your worst. I guarantee it won’t be as bad as the life you left me with.”
“Ooh, and there it is.” He grins again, smug as all get out. Real or not, it takes every ounce of focus I have not to pummel his ass into the dirt. “In all this little blame-and-shame,” he continues, “you’re forgetting the part whereyouturnedmein. Ratted me out like some little street punk looking to make a name for himself.”
“Ford, you…”
You set a man on fire. Burned him alive. Took pleasure in it. You fuckingdiedthat day—died before my eyes and left me alone in a world of monsters and ghosts I had no idea how to fight…
But all the words die on my tongue, leaving only this: “Fuck off, Ford. You’re not even real. None of this is real.”
“Aww, now that hurts.” He presses a hand to his heart, but malice still shines bright in his eyes. “Real or not, I can still fuck you up. Get inside your head.”
Lightning arcs overhead again, a bright flash followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Without warning, a sharp pain slices through my head, dropping me to my knees, filling my mind with images of Stevie. She’s running toward us. Towardme. I try to shout, to stop her, but I can’t find the words, can’t get off the ground, can’t stop the blood pouring from my nose and into the dirt, the pain in my skull blinding me—
“Baz! Baz, get up!” She’s shouting as she gets closer, her scent preceding her, wrapping me in its warmth.
“Stevie,” I breathe. Suddenly she’s here, dropping to her knees before me. Her hair is soaked, fat water droplets falling onto my skin as my fingertips brush against her hand. I fight against the pain, will myself to open my eyes as I reach for her face…
“Not so fast, kid,” Ford says. “This one looks like a handful. Think I’ll keep her for myself.”
Stevie’s snatched out of my grasp. Her scream cuts through the blinding pain, and I force open my eyes just in time to watch my brother pin her to the ground, one hand fisting her hair, the other pressing a knife to her throat.
Stevie doesn’t make another sound. Doesn’t struggle. Just looks at me with those impossibly blue eyes, tears staining her cheeks. Her clothing is soaked, stuck to her skin as she shivers in my brother’s grasp.
A trickle of blood beads on the blade.
Pure, white-hot rage incinerates the pain in my head, and I launch myself at Ford, slamming straight into him. We both hit the ground with a thud, his cruel laugh making my skin crawl.
Stevie vanishes, along with the knife.
She was never there at all.
Even flat on his back, with my knee pressed against his chest, my brother laughs and laughs.
