Chapter Thirteen

ChapterThirteen

W hen we’re all in the carriage once again, Reaper’s head resting in my lap, I gently sweep the hair that’s falling out of his low ponytail off his face. He looks even worse than he did, and I didn’t think that was possible. A sense of urgency is riding me; we need to get the damn ingredients and cast the spell to make the antidote.

“Why don’t Farren and Loki head back to the castle and get Reaper settled, and the rest of us head to Monty’s place? I don’t like how he’s looking. If we need to go to another place to get some of the ingredients, then there is enough of us to split up.” Storm suggests his worried gaze on Reaper.

“That sounds good to me. It’s probably going to take all of you to get the ingredients and jump through whatever hoops that Monty requires you to jump through in order to get the ingredients.” I reply, feeling better that something will be done quicker.

“And I will keep an eye on his condition and try to hold back the progress of it as much as I can,” Loki adds.

“Alright, if we’re all in agreement, I’ll have the carriage drop us off at Monty’s shop and then take you straight home,” Grey replies, and everyone nods in agreement.

“Stay alert and armed, it’s going to be dark soon and it’s not just the Wraiths that you have to worry about now,” I start to warn them, “it’s also the factions that are being controlled by dark magic.”

Storm watches me closely, “We’ll come back in one piece with the ingredients to save Reaper.”

I nod as we come to a stop outside Monty’s, and they all get out. As each one passes me, they find a way to touch me, either a brush of fingers on my cheek from Mayhem, a kiss on the forehead, the brush of fingers on the back of my hand or even full-on kissing me senseless courtesy of Kill. His goodbye earns him looks of both jealousy and envy as he smiles proudly before leaving the carriage.

“Hmm, you are very powerful to have more than two mates,” the book mutters, and I chose to ignore it.

“What did it say?” Loki asks as we take off again and head the short distance back to Grey’s castle.

I shrug, “Nothing important.”

His gaze is penetrating as if he doesn’t quite believe me, but I don’t know what to make of the book's words, and I’m not even sure that what he said is true. The book is ancient, and it most likely is just the way that speaks to identify someone that I’m interested in, or in this case, multiple someone’s that I’m interested in.

“Let’s get him inside and up to his room. He’ll be the most comfortable there.” Loki changes the subject as we get to the castle.

With a show of strength, he lifts Reaper with ease and strides inside as I rush ahead to open the doors for him. As soon as he’s laid him on the bed, I start pacing, the wounds that have opened up on him are oozing a black sticky substance, and I know that is the least of what he’s dealing with. I hate that he’s in pain, and I can’t immediately fix it.

I’m aware of Loki’s eyes on me as I continue to pace, but I feel better moving. It makes me feel like I’m not just sitting here watching him deteriorate and twiddling my thumbs.

“I’m so sorry,” the book interrupts my spiralling thoughts, stopping my pacing.

“I know,” I reply as I look over to the chair where I laid it. When Loki looks at me curiously, I sigh and ask, “Is there any way that you talk so that he can understand you?”

It’s silent momentarily, and then the book asks, “Do you understand me now?”

“Yes, I understand,” Loki replies in wonder. “Do you have a name?”

“No, I’ve never been given one,” the book replies, and I feel a pang of sadness.

“How old are you?” I ask it, grateful for the distraction that it’s offering right now.

“I’m not sure. I stopped counting the years after a couple of thousand; it seemed tedious and pointless.” It replies casually.

“Fucking hell, thousands?” Loki mutters, and then his gaze hardens, “Why did you curse my brother?”

“I really am sorry, all I knew was that there were very strong supernaturals in the room, and I couldn’t go back to being controlled and used to do truly horrendous things again.” It starts to explain.

“Someone used you before?” Loki asks curiously.

“I have a lot of magic, not just as a sentient book but also because of what’s within my pages. I trusted someone that I shouldn’t, and they captured me and performed some sort of spell that made me become completely under his control and have no choice but to obey.” It’s easy to hear the pain in the voice of the book.

“What happened? How did you escape?” I ask.

“He was killed, and it broke the spell he had over me. I was able to conceal that I was sentient and change what my pages had written on them. Eventually, Aramis found me and brought me to his home, where I’ve stayed ever since. I think he knew that there was something different about me, but I could never bring myself to reveal what I truly was. The room that you found me in has stayed hidden and empty for centuries, the magic of the house retreating to it to keep it concealed. After a hundred years or so, I felt comfortable releasing the spell concealing me, and then you showed up, and I panicked.”

“I’m sorry for what you were forced to do,” Loki replies.

“Thank you,” it replies, sounding somewhat surprised, and then adds, “Had I known who you were, Farren, I never would’ve attacked one of yours.”

Loki’s gaze switches from the book to me as he raises his eyebrow in question. I chose to ignore his searching gaze and the smile that tilts his lips, “We need to find you a name. I can’t just keep calling you book.”

“What about Frankie?” Loki suggests.

I chuckle, “No, that doesn’t feel quite right.”

“Oh, thank fuck you said it. I didn’t want to be rude, but absolutely not,” the book adds, sounding offended, and I can’t help my smile.

As the two of them go back and forth, trying to find a name that feels right, I try to do the same, and suddenly my intuition and magic sparks and fizzles, “I know what your name is.”

“Well, are you going to share?” Loki asks.

“Xerxes,” I reply confidently.

“I like that,” the book replies and repeats the name, “Xerxes, it feels right.”

“Good,” I reply, feeling proud that I’ve managed to give him a name. Everything deserves a name, which reminds me I should probably name my house at some point. After all, it is sentient as well.

“I’m sorry, but I need to rest. I’m out of practice, and casting the spell so that they could read and Loki could understand me has taken it out of me. If you need me,” he pauses and then says with evident joy, “just say my name.”

“You got it, Xerxes,” I reply with a soft smile.

I know that he poisoned Reaper, and if he dies, then I will seriously struggle to forgive him; however, having heard a small part of his story, I understand, and I would be a hypocrite if I held it against him, considering the things I was made to do in the past and how I’d react if I thought there was a chance that someone would like to use me in the same way again.

“Farren,” Loki suddenly exclaims, abruptly pulling me from my thoughts, and I turn back to him, rushing over to the bed as I see Reaper starting to convulse again.

“I don’t think I can hold it off this time. We’re running out of time; where the fuck are the guys?” he demands.

An idea hits me like a lightning bolt, and I grasp Loki’s hand that’s on Reaper’s chest and still trying to heal him. He looks at me in question, “You guys managed to drain some of my magic when I came out of the Void; I think that using our connection, I can channel some of my magic to you, and it will strengthen yours and you can use it to hold back the poison.”

“I’m willing to try anything just don’t give me too much; not only do I not want you to burn yourself out, but I don’t think I could handle the amount of power that you have,” he replies.

I nod and then focus on opening the bond line between Loki and me entirely as I close the ones between Storm, Killian and me. I’m taking a risk doing this because he’s going to be able to feel everything that I do; I mean, sure, I can try to conceal it, but I also need to concentrate on getting the magic through to him, and I might let something slip. Reaper is more important than my fear of rejection or confusion about what I feel about all of them.

I send a stream of magic through the bond, hoping that this works and it won't backfire in some way. Loki grunts as my magic flows through him, but he quickly takes control and directs it to stop the poison from continuing to wreak havoc on Reaper. Through my connection with Loki, I can see how our magic is working together to slow the progress. My magic holds no healing properties, but it almost desperately wants to help and to save Reaper. It’s almost mesmerising watching the two magics work together.

As soon as Loki pulls his hand back, I stop the flow of magic, or at least I try to, but my magic doesn’t want to come back; it wants to play with Loki’s, and it takes some serious strength on my part to coax it back to me, and when it does come back, I get a distinct feeling that it's fucking pouting.

“Well, that was interesting. My magic didn’t want to let yours go,” Loki mutters.

“Mine wanted to play,” I reply with a weary smile.

Loki pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. It settles the nerves inside me. “We managed to hold the poison back again. We make quite a team, Love.”

“I like when you call me that,” I admit quietly, my eyes still on Reaper, watching his chest rise and fall far more quickly than it should.

His lips kiss my shoulder, and I shiver at the contact, “Then I’ll do it more often.”

“I’d like that,” I reply.

We’re silent for a while as we both watch Reaper. The guys need to hurry up; even with our magical plaster stopping the poison for the time being, it’s not going to last much longer; I can sense that, and it’s worrying me.

“Do you want to talk about what I sensed when you opened the bond up to me, Love?” Loki asks, his voice hushed.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I reply, “It’s complicated for more reasons than it should be, we’re warrior bonded, and I don’t want to ruin that. I finally feel like I have a family of sorts, although what I feel for you, all of you, isn’t a familial bond kind of thing. I’m fucking this up, and I guess what I’m trying to say is that I feel like I belong, like I’m actually doing something to help for the right reason. The warrior games, you guys, I don’t want to risk any of that. I’m scared.”

Loki stays silent as he mulls over my words, and I try my hardest not to shift with nerves. That was more honest than I intended it to be.

“I understand, Farren. I didn’t realise it before, but we’ve been missing you. It always felt like there was a part of us that we were missing, and now that we have you, that emptiness isn’t there any more. I know the others feel the same. Just look at what you’ve done for Storm? You brought Kill back to us. You repaired the broken bond between Reaper and Ryu, something that I thought was impossible. You give us a reason to be more than just warriors; you have made us feel more like brothers than we have been in a long time. I understand your hesitation, Love, but I just want you to think about it. Don’t rule it out, and don’t start pulling away from us. Just see what happens,” Loki finishes.

He's invoked so many emotions with his words that my eyes become damp, and my heart beats like a freaking drum. He repaid my honesty with honesty of his own, and I appreciate that he’s put his feelings out there.

I twist on his lap slightly, kissing him on the cheek and allowing my lips to linger, “I won’t rule anything out. But as soon as I see any hint of an issue, then I will pull back, and I’ll put boundaries in place that will have to stay in place.”

“That’s all I ask, Love. Just don’t close us out completely,” he replies with a soft smile, “don’t give up on us. We’ve got more demons than you realise, no pun intended.”

“Regardless of anything else, we’re in this for life, and either way, I will always be there for you all.”

He squeezes me tightly, “Always, Love. I think the fates and fuck knows what else has a plan for all of this, and we’ve just got to trust that they know what they’re doing.”

“They’d better,” I reply with a half smile. I agree with him. I have thought the same several times over the last few days or even weeks. Ever since I turned up at the academy, I felt like I was finally where I was supposed to be and on the right path.

The conversation has gotten a bit too emotional for me, and I’m not really equipped to deal with any more emotional stuff, so I turn my attention back to Reaper, “His breathing is getting worse.”

“I know. The guys have been gone for a couple of hours. I just hope that they’ve been able to find all the ingredients within the Shadowlands,” Loki replies anxiously.

“If anyone has the things we need, it will be Monty,” I reply, trying to sound reassuring.

“So how crazy is it that there’s a magical talking book sleeping on the chair over there,” Loki says, sounding almost incredulous.

“I know, he’s rare, and he’s spent a long time being mistreated. I know he did this to Reaper, but I’m glad that we gave him a name.” I reply.

“Me too. Also, he doesn’t feel like an enemy despite what he’s done.” Loki replies.

“No, he doesn’t to me either,” I agree.

“He might have some useful information for us as well, but I don’t want him ever to feel pressured into telling us. He needs to know he can give it freely and without consequence.”

“Definitely, and we can ensure that he stays safe now as well,” I reply.

Reaper’s back suddenly arches up off the bed, and we stare in shock as blood soaks his shirt. I instantly jump up off Loki’s lap and rush into the adjoining bathroom, grabbing a towel and heading back into the room to see Loki has already moved Reaper’s shirt out of the way to reveal a

two-inch wide slice that’s opened up on his chest that runs from the base of his neck all the way down to the top of his trousers. His hands are glowing as he tries to stop the bleeding, but it’s having no effect on the wound.

“Fuck, this isn’t good. At this rate, it won’t matter that we’ve managed to stop the flow of the poison. He’s going to die of blood loss,” I curse, panicking as I try to stem the bleeding with the towel.

Before Loki can reply, the door bangs open, and the others rush in, carrying an assortment of weird and wonderful things that are for the spell.

“Fucking hell, he looks so much worse,” Storm curses.

“Did you get everything that you need?” Loki asks.

Grey grunts but nods, “Yes, Monty was a little shit about it, but less so than normal we managed to get everything without too much fuss.”

“Thank fuck for that,” I mutter.

“It probably helps that Grey threatened him badly enough that it scared the shit out of Monty,” Zev replies and then adds, “I wish the rest of us could have seen the look you gave him.”

“You scared Monty?” I ask, surprised because he doesn’t get scared easily.

Grey doesn’t bother replying; he just shrugs, crosses his arms over his broad chest and switches his gaze to Reaper, looking worried.

“I’m going to set everything up over here,” Killian starts and then turns to Mayhem, “have you got this, or do you need a hand to perform it?”

“I need someone else, it requires two people, but the second person needs to be fairly knowledgeable. We’ve got to get the quantities exact, and the words need to be said with precision,” Mayhem replies.

“I can do it,” Zev offers. “I’ve got extensive experience in Alchemy and have read and taught myself things that we aren’t supposed to know yet. The subject interests me.”

“Me too,” Mayhem replies and then adds, “Let’s get this done then. I need the book and some blood from Reaper to ensure that it’s tailored to him specifically.”

“Unfortunately, we’ve got plenty of that,” Loki replies.