“Listen to me, Ani.” I pull away from the wall and take a few steps toward him, feeling a bit stronger each time a foot connects with the rock beneath it. “We’re going to get out of here. Both of us. And I swear to you just as I’d swear it to Stevie and Kirin and Baz if they were here… I’m going to kill the druid. It won’t be quick or kind. You have my word on that.”
Ani blinks up at me, his eyes suddenly luminescent in the darkness. I’m no empath, but you’d have to be a block of stone not to feel the weight of his deep sadness and regret.
His shame.
For a beat, neither of us speaks or moves. Then, on a long sigh, he says, “Cass, what happened back at Red Sands tonight… I… I’m so sorry.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for. I won’t even hear it.”
“But—”
“It wasn’t you at Red Sands any more than it was you in…” I trail off, again not wanting to remind him of the massacre in California, but of course it’s already on his mind. It will likely be a constant companion every day for the rest of his life—yet another Dark Arcana cruelty I’m looking forward to repaying with interest.
“But itisme. That’s what I’m telling you. The Black Sunisme, with certain aspects removed. He’s me without morals, without shame, without fear. He’s the darkness that’s always lurking behind the smile—all the things I thought I’d dealt with years ago, but clearly didn’t.”
My memory jumps back to the night Stevie and the others were forced into the dream realm. It was thanks to Ani’s witchfire that we finally got the upper hand with Janelle and Casey, both possessed by Phaines. But to conjure so much magick—to unleash so much devastation—Ani had to dig into the most terrifying parts of himself and bring them all to the surface. All of his pains and agonies, his disappointments, the abuses he suffered—all of it became fuel.
That single act of heroism—Ani raining hell on our enemies—was the crashing of the gate that eventually gave Judgment the entrance he needed.
And I should’ve been able to protect him from it. Thenandnow.
Instead, I’ve only subjected to him to further torment.
“Thatthingis no more you than a bag of flour is a chocolate chip cookie,” I snap. “You are so much more than the sum of your parts, Ani. All of us have darkness inside us. What happened to you… That was Judgment’s doing. Not yours.”
Anger roils inside me, but I force it down, knowing I’ll need to harness it later. Besides, Ani doesn’t deserve my ire. Even if it’s not directed at him, I don’t want my brother exposed to it for even a second.
That particular bullet—rather, thatbomb—has someone else’s name on it.
Ani flickers again and turns his back on me, his head hanging low.
Fuck.
I’m losing him. I can feel our bond weakening as he retreats further into his own guilt.
I need to get us out of here, but I have neither the directional sense nor the stamina to search for an exit that may not even exist. Gingerly I move along the wall, my hands seeking a sharp rock as my mind begins formulating a spell.
“You feel everything the Black Sun experiences?” I ask.
“Everything.”
“So you understand I gave you Nightmare’s Lullaby, yes?”
“The potion.” Ani turns to face me again, but immediately drops his gaze, as if he’s afraid to admit how badly I’ve hurt him. “It didn’t work on him because he doesn’t have the capacity for true fear. He has no conscience, no sense of morality or remorse, no sense of consequence.”
My gut twists at the implication. The potion didn’t work on his dark counterpart… but it worked on Ani.
Biting back the taste of bile in my throat, I force myself to continue. “I wanted to find another way. But Stevie knew there wasn’t one. She also knew what it would do to you, whether it worked or not, but she was willing to take that risk, even on the good chance it would all backfire—which it did, quite spectacularly.”
“Cass, we don’t have to talk about it. I understand. You were trying to drive him out. I get it. I—”
“Do you know why she did it?” I move quickly along the wall, still searching the smooth, water-worn rocks for something sharp. “WhyIultimately agreed to it, even knowing the high chance of failure? Knowing the damage it would inflict?”
He stares at me again, his eyes so pained I can barely stand to look at him.
I know he heard the words Stevie spoke over his bedside—the Black Sun was there, feigning unconsciousness, so Ani heard everything. Still, I feel the need to repeat them now. To remind him how much he means to all of us—to Stevie most of all.
“Ani isoursto love and protect,” I say, her sweet voice in my head. “Ours. The family he chose. The family that chose him. The family that wants and loves him. The family that needs his light in our lives—not because of some stupid prophecy or magickal war, not because we share DNA, but simply because he—”
