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35
Archer
The ride out to the Marsten family house takes about ten minutes. The place is rundown. One of the old colonial homes that made it through the fire. The wooden siding needed painting ten years ago, and the yard is a mess of mud and weeds. I have so many memories of sneaking in through the backdoor of this place, looking for Rhys or Lena. We never stayed here to hang out. We’d escape to the woods or the beach. Anywhere to get away from our horrible homes.
I know that neither Lena nor Rhys have any good memories of this place. Any trace of their mother was eradicated from this home years ago. Now it’s just a reminder of the pain they had to endure.
We stopped to get supplies before coming out here. Lena was tense the entire drive. I kept waiting for her to tell me she changed her mind, but I don’t think it’s what we’re about to do that has her tense. It’s the demons inside her. She’s ready to send them back to hell.
Rhys and I stand in front of the house with Lena between us. I can sense their memories rearing up to taunt them, but my girl isn’t going to back down. She’s more of a fighter than I think she realized.
“Are you sure you’re good with this?” Lena looks at Rhys and some silent communication passes between them.
“Never wanted something more in my entire life,” Rhys says, squatting to pour gasoline into three empty liquor bottles.
Scott’s ATV was still at the police station when we left downtown. The house is dark and empty, and still somehow gives off a malevolent feeling. The bad things done here have stained the very foundation of this home. No amount of fresh paint or pretty landscaping is going to take away the rot.
Rhys hands Lena a bottle and then passes another to me. He stands, his fingers tightly clutching his own bottle. No one says a word as he lights the rags stuffed in each one. None of us hold on to them after that, launching them at the house with all the strength in our souls.
Rhys bellows into the night as he lets his firebomb fly. So much pain and anger rage out from him, delivering it into the night sky. Lena doesn’t make a sound as she throws her bottle, but tears stream down her face. Incredibly, I know exactly how she’s feeling. Our bond is strong and vibrating with emotion. It’s not sadness, it’s catharsis. She’s releasing all of the pain of her past, letting it burn to the ground with this God forsaken house.
Anger guides my throw and I say a silent fuck you to Scott, Anthony, fucking Colton. All these shitty fucks who think they can control others and force the world to do their bidding. We might not know how to stop someone like Anthony, but this, tonight, is the first step to reclaiming our power.
We will overcome whatever obstacles they put in our path. They will pay for their sins. And Colton Zima better believe I’ll be reciprocating with a stab to the gut. He may have walked out of the bar tonight, but we haven’t waved the white flag. This is the calm before the storm.
Flames engulf the house, catching on the old wood faster than I could have imagined. The fire roars and the heat is intense, forcing us to move back. Even then my face feels tight, like I’ve gotten a sunburn. A window shatters on the first floor and the whole house groans and creaks. It won’t take long before the whole place collapses and there’s nothing left but ash.
“Good fucking riddance,” Rhys shouts at the house.
Lena gives him a one-armed hug, and Rhys throws his arm over her shoulder. She reaches out to me with her free hand, and I take it with mine, lacing our fingers together. I lift our joined hands and kiss the back of Lena’s fingers.
We watch the house burn, knowing things are only going to get worse. Four of us have bonded now, and I know Anthony isn’t about to walk away. Those assholes don’t understand one very important thing, though. We might have magic, but that’s not what makes us strong. It’s each other. We’re best friends, family, and we take care of one another.
This is far from over.
