I frown at him. It doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is keeping Mara alive.
I step back and look down at my hands. Blue-gold light pulses through my veins, brighter now, climbing my forearms. Can I even do this?
“You’re a Blackwood, son.” Eric’s voice comes through the mirror. “Stop second-guessing your magic and be its guardian. If you want to open the Glen, you can. You just have to give the command to your magic.”
I hold my hands up and the mirror vanishes, the glass dissolving into blue sparks that scatter into the night. I turn and aim both palms at the cottage door.
The command moves through me and my magic surges forward and hits the golden shield. The two colors crash togetherin a blinding wave, gold and blue twisting around each other, wrestling, and the energy pulls from me, dragging at the edges of my strength.
The shield bows inward and flickers and thins before it splits down the center. The cottage door starts to open. The hinges groan and the wood creaks and on the other side there’s nothing. Just darkness.
I lower my hands and watch. My breath comes out in clouds against the night air and nothing moves on the other side.
“Hello?” It comes out quiet. I take a step forward. The last time I was in the Glen I was a boy. It’s probably a much different place now.
I get closer to the door, then step back when Eric walks out of the darkness.
He’s not a reflection anymore. He steps out onto the ground, a cup of coffee in his hand, steam curling off it. It makes me smile.
“They have coffee in the Witching Glen?”
Eric chuckles, low and warm, and it sounds like something I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear. “Come here, boy.”
He opens his arms.
My eyes burn and I blink hard. I know this is stupid. But he’s finally right here with his arms open and his scent wrapping around me, and the boy in me walks straight into it.
Eric pulls me into his arms. I press my face into his shoulder and my hands grab the back of his shirt and hold on. It feels so good my body won’t stop shaking, and I hate myself for it because I know better. But I’ve been starving for this my whole life and finally, I have it. A father’s love.
“It’s going to be alright, son,” Eric murmurs against my head. “I’m going to take good care of you.”
My eyes snap open.
Energy starts flooding out of my body. Not the slow pull I felt when I opened the door. This is a siphon. My magic rushes out of me and pours into him through every point of contact. I try to push away but his arms lock around me and the draining accelerates, my vision dimming, my knees going soft.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shove against his chest but he holds tighter and I can feel my own power being sucked out of me. I wrench back just enough to see his face, and my stomach drops.
Eric’s eyes are glowing blue. The gray is fading from his hair and dark strands are pushing through. His face is smoothing out, the lines gone, his jaw tighter. His arms are getting stronger even as mine get weaker, and he’s grinning at me with my power burning under his skin.
My magic takes over. A blast of blue erupts from my chest and slams into him, throwing us apart. He flies backward into a vendor’s cart, wood splintering, and I crash onto the ground on my back and I can’t breathe.
I’m not completely drained. But I’m close.
I shake my head and try to pull myself up. My arms are shaking and the Market tilts around me. Eric is already walking toward me, rolling his shoulders, checking his hands and his arms like he’s admiring what he just stole. He looks ten years younger.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, son.”
“You motherfucker.” I growl at him.
His boot connects with my face. My head snaps to the side and I hit the ground, pain exploding through my skull. I groan and roll onto my side, tasting blood.
“I’ll admit I was nervous about it.” His voice is casual. He starts rolling up his sleeves. He checks his arms and hands, runs a palm over his face and over his head. His grin widens. “But the elders council told me to never underestimate a father’s love.”
I press my hand against my cheek and look up at his smug face and it nearly guts me. Because I walked into every single trap. The dreams, the visits, the careful vulnerability, the promise that he could help me save Mara. It was so formulaic. Every step laid out in advance, and I followed it like a fool.
“A father’s love does a lot of things,” Eric says, and reaches down and grabs my arm.
The draining starts again the moment his skin touches mine. My magic pours into him, my own power fueling something that was never meant to be his. I moan and try to pull free but my muscles won’t cooperate.
