10
Tarnley
“Lucy.” Her name is barely more than a growl, and I take a step forward, trying to block Bronywyn from her path. She turns toward me, black eyes blazing with power, even within the confines of Bronywyn’s mind.
“You should have stayed dead, bloodsucker.”
“This is all in your head, Bronywyn,” I remind her, hoping to ease some of the terror I can feel rolling off of her. Even though the bond is non-existent in here, her wide eyes and pale face are enough evidence of her fear. And that fear is only going to give the shadow exactly what it wants.
“I am in your head,” Lucy taunts. “But I am so very real.”
“Bronywyn. Get into a new memory.”
The room shimmers around us as Lucy takes another predatory step toward us. She can’t kill us; the shadow told us that much, but as I know better than most, there are so many things worse than the finality of death.
I risk a glance at Bronywyn, who’s glaring at Lucy with rage and terror. Her hands clench into fists as if she’s expecting her magic to flare to life.
“You brought me a new pet,” Lucy hisses. “Shall we show him what happens to those you love?”
Bronywyn lunges forward. “No.”
“Yes.” Lucy grins and raises a hand before snapping her fingers. The walls ripple, starting like smooth water, then rolling into stone walls and a stone floor. A chill settles in my bones as I turn in a slow circle, taking in the scene before me.
Whereas in the last memory, she was beside me, watching just as I was, now Bronywyn stands just before me. Magic sparks at her fingertips as she faces off with Lucy. “Don’t do this,” she pleads.
I step around. “What is happening?” No one says anything. They don’t even pay me a single glance, and as I get a full view of the man kneeling in front of Lucy, I see why. He stares up at Bronywyn, tears in the corners of his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Bronny. I didn’t—”
“It’s okay, Mal,” she promises. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?” Lucy questions. “I never pegged you as a liar.”
“Please, he has nothing to do with any of this.” Bronywyn raises her hands, the magic dying at her fingertips. “Just let him go, and you can have me.”
“You came for me, and you must be punished.”
“You killed my sister!” Bronywyn roars, and I know she’s referring to the woman I only ever knew as Jane.
“I took revenge for my mother.”
Sucked into the memory, Bronywyn shakes her head. “You killed the woman who drove a dagger through your mother, and yet you still seek to torture her soul.”
“She deserves nothing less.” Lucy trails a finger over the man’s throat, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again.
“Chasin!” she screams.
I turn to the right as a warlock comes into view. “You both brought this upon yourselves,” he replies, voice cool though his expression betrays his fear.
“He’s your brother!”
“He made his choice.”
“I will always love you, Bronny,” the man on his knees whispers.
Love.I turn to Bronywyn, who stares ahead, all her attention directed at the man before her. “Please, don’t. I can’t see this again,” she pleads, and I know whatever was pinning her into the memory has been released.
“Why don’t you tell your bloodsucker who this is,” Lucy says as she grips the man’s hair and yanks his head back, exposing his pale throat.