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“Jesus Christ…” Braxton mutters as we approach.
Inspecting the mangled visage, I suddenly remember who he was. Richard Creston.Rich. A kindly old shifter who often regaled the children with tales of pack triumphs, embellishing true stories into myth and legend. A man who, along with his sons, was responsible for building most of this town.
He wears a cloak I recognize from the satellite feed when Orson showed me home on his computer.Rich was the man fixing up the town. It’s a bittersweet revelation. The warmth I feel at the thought of him becoming the town’s steward in the pack’s absence is overcome by the bitter chill of his unfortunate end.
He lost his wife. His kids. Everyone he ever knew. But stayed here, rebuilding the town, waiting for their return.
“Why would my brother do this? Richard never did anything to anyone.”
“You knew him?” Orson asks in horror.
“He was always so kind.” My voice breaks, and it takes me a minute to calm down. “There really is nothing left of my brother, is there?”
Braxton wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
I wipe away a stray tear. “I’m sorry too.”
“There’s a note on his person,” says Orson.
A note?My gaze sweeps over Rich, and I notice a knife jutting from his chest with a page pinned to the body by its blade.Simon, you sick bastard, this is how you send a message?
Rich deserves better than this. My gaze moves to the rope he’s hanging from and fury and disgust moves through me. A man who devoted his life to being a good person, to serving his people, deserved better than my fucking brother, slaughtering him like an animal and leaving his body in such a disrespectful way.
I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything my brother did, because Rich’s life, and every other life lost to Simon, is on me. And I need to toughen up and do what needs to be done.
As I summon a silver disk, I think to myself,Simon is lost. With an angry grunt, I hurl the disk through the air and it severs the rope, releasing Rich’s body. He collapses on the road and the angry pain I feel at his murder nearly does the same to me.
Max retrieves the note, stained with Rich’s blood, and hands it to me. “Dearest sister. Enemy. Yet, we share a common foe. First, the Raven Pack, now, the last of the Blood Mages. The mages still have our pack. They’re hosting a party at their North Rapids compound. I will be their unexpected guest. I am going to kill every last person there. It will be the culmination of my work, the crescendo. Will you join me? It would mean the world to me for you to join me in the end.”
“A sibling death pact?” says Orson. “That’s… disturbing.”
The sudden scent of smoke fills the air.
“He’s in town!” I say, and then start running.
They call my name, but I keep going. He’s here. I’m going to end this once and for all. Before this damn party. Before he has a chance to kill anyone else.
As I move through town, I see the buildings up ahead in flames. I call my magic to me, ready, but something feels wrong. There’s… so little dark magic in the air. It’s like the memory of dark magic instead of active magic being used.
I stop in the center of the four houses that blaze, searching all around me, even though my heart already knows the truth. He’s not here. He hasn’t been for a while. Something about moving the body set off this fire, like a trap.
Fuck.
“Asha!” Max is behind me, and he sounds pissed, but I ignore him.
“We need to take cover,” Braxton says, and he tugs at my arm.
“No,” I tell them. “He’s not here. This was some kind of trap.”
I stare in anger as much of the work Rich completed is undone by ravenous flames. But if my magic can fix Simon’s other magic, undo the darkness, maybe it can fix this, too. Joining my hands together, I call my magic to me, focusing it, picturing what I want it to do. At first, nothing happens, but then I feel it spark to life. I launch from my palms a stream of silver magic that works like foam from a fire extinguisher, dousing the flames and stopping their destruction.
Not that it matters. This part of the town is gone. Again. Trapped forever in a state of tragic demise.
Suddenly, a thought occurs to me, and I feel the color drain from my face. “We need to check to make sure Simon didn’t find any of my pack members who escaped from the Raven Pack!”
Max’s gaze holds mine as he lifts his weapon. “There’s no saying he’s not still here, so we do a sweep for Simon,andsearch for your pack.”
We perform the sweep, just in case, but as I suspected, Simon is gone. Luckily, so are Janie and the shifters that escaped the Raven Pack. They’ve been spared my brother’s endless font of rage, and more lives aren’t on my head
“What do you want to do?” asks Max, in a leading tone, although we both know what must be done.
“Simon has to die,” I answer him, my voice flat, resolute. I can no longer afford the fantasy of his rehabilitation. Simon is too far gone. “But first, we’re going to bury Rich.”
For once, no one argues. We pass the burned building to the man who still held out hope all this time. Tears slide down my cheeks as we lay him to rest, but something about this man and his tragic death has changed something inside of me. Dashed all hope that my brother could be saved.
And it’s strangely freeing, even if I wonder what I’ll have to become to destroy him.
