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Because the first time he changed the future, there was a second night for a portal. He saw this cosmic night, but didn’t know the exact date, wouldn’t allow himself to know until the time came.
Until he learned it all on his own all over again, picking up the small pieces of information, using them like he never did in those other timelines, and doing a ripple effect of things that have already changed the future, even though he hasn’t seen it.
“I guess it’s time. She’s going to hit us with everything she has. We may blow the entire town to hell this time,” Zee says as he stands abruptly.
“Wouldn’t really be the first time. Real estate just keeps plunging around here, and more immortals keep moving in,” Dice says. Then looks at Kicera, adding, “Oh, yes they do. They just keep on moving in,” in that baby talk voice again.
“Real glad this is the conversation we have right before going off to face a woman who can’t seem to fucking stay dead,” Chaz says before vanishing from the room.
I’ve just been listening and sipping vodka, hearing but not really hearing. My mind is taking in the world around me on autopilot, because all I can do is continue to run each possible scenario of our really, really desperate plan. A plan that relies solely on instinct, the very core of our being and the most reliable, resilient thing we know.
Leah’s the one who pointed out it’s the most reliable, even though the plan seems shaky on the surface. She’s the most logical one of us, and she’s cold logic right now. She’s also the most sure this is all going to work, despite the fact she has the riskiest role.
My eyes close, and I take a deep, calming breath as everyone’s heartbeats echo in my mind. I’ve walked through the camps full of our soldiers who’ve lined up, familiarizing myself with the signature beats of their own hearts. Every immortal has their own signature.
Slade used this for mediation.
I’ve used it for training.
I’ve smelled harbingers all in the air.
I’ve watched a thousand and one of my deaths on repeat all day long, reminding myself how strong Hannah is. Seeing her as it happens.
“Ella, don’t!” I hear Slade shouting when Hannah tosses him aside like he’s an insect.
Panicking, I stumble, just as the cosmic blast rattles in the sky, shaking the ground and causing the portal to explode.
Every time that blast comes, it pulses and scatters the stars, destroying that portal, and I finally know why. It’s not Hannah’s variables like Slade thinks. The portal doesn’t open because it’s sealed, but that’s not why it explodes.
Science doesn’t play a part in that equation. It’s simply magic.
It’s almost ironic, really, the reason that explosion happens. It’s almost killed me in some of the timelines, yet I felt stronger too. It’s not a piece of our puzzle, nor does it matter in the fight, and I spent so long searching for its cause before I figured it out.
It’s amazing the things you notice when you stand back and watch things play out in thousands of ways.
I’ve seen everyone killed, with the exception of Dice and Slade. I’ve never had to watch him die. He always survives to see me die. Well, so long as he was in the visions.
I’ve seen this version of the present he’s spent so long creating, versus the alternate future it could have been, and he hasn’t just saved me; he’s saved everyone.
But the thing that has killed me the most to watch is Slade breaking in a thousand and one ways, sobbing and roaring in pain as he holds my lifeless body. It’s broken my heart over and over, and I’ve made myself watch it every time.
It’s reminding me why I can’t fail him tonight. It reminds me what he’s gone through for so many painful centuries. It reminds me of the promise I’ve made to myself.
I won’t do that to him. I can’t.
Wiping away a tear from my eyes, I clear my throat, letting myself remember one more time.
“Ella, no!” he shouts, diving to me too late, holding my limp frame until suddenly there’s laughter in the air, and Hannah looks at Slade with my eyes.
He drops her and scrambles back, as the skies turn black and the laughter rises. She steps over a witch’s lifeless body, the body she used to grow stronger in before she found the new one she wanted—needed.
I can almost see it in her eyes—my eyes—that she no longer even cares about the Lokies. She tastes my untapped power, feeling so much stronger than she expected.
She’s not in a witch who felt weak when she took her over. She’s not fused to just her mind anymore.
She killed my soul, and took a body meant for a different monster with the power to rule.
Everything changes, and I can barely glimpse it before the memory fades, his loop restarting on my eighteenth birthday.
