Chapter Twenty-Six

“I think it’s fate, you know?” Finn held up the sopping wet kitten with sappy thoughts and a pleading expression at the ready. Him and the kitten. They each gave me sad eyes, demanding I agree to adopt the furball.

“It’s not fate,” I protested—because of course I did—folding my arms to buffer any attempt of making me cuddle the kitten. “I can hear the concerned owner a few blocks over. Let’s return the little fella and go home.”

Finn huffed, pouty and disappointed. “Fine. Defy fate.”

“Life’s a random construct of chaos, Finn. Nothing happens for a reason. It’s all bullshit.”

How I wanted to roll my eyes at my past self and his morose outlook on life, the universe, fate, but I settled into the memory, hoping to indulge in some much-missed time with Finn. It’d been months since my subconscious had sent me flashes of my memories, giving me mostly dreamless nights and allowing me to wrap my telepathy around Milo’s mind while he slept.

Only Milo wasn’t here. He’d continued working late since the incident with Theodore Whitlock, frightened he’d missed something and convinced some unknown horror lurked around the corner.

I didn’t want to think about all the potential dangers of endless possible futures. Perhaps I lacked the constitution for it. What I wanted was to indulge in the simplicity of this school year, help my students, continue exploring my relationship with Milo, and, most of all, sleep peacefully wrapped inside a memory of a man I loved so much. A man whose memory no longer haunted me, one I’d slowly grieved and now found solace in our history.

I watched my past self long to grab Finn’s hand as we strolled down the street, offer him a gentle squeeze, show a sign of affection, but instead, my younger self walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, cursing about the rain and blaming the kitten for our wet misadventure.

Looking back on things, I supposed fate was real. Everything happened for a reason, right? Okay, maybe a stretch, but I would’ve never blinked twice at the sad faces of Charlie and Carlie if they hadn’t reminded me so much of this day, so much of how I hoped to bring a smile to Finn’s face. So, I failed to get the kitten then but ended up with two of the best later in life.

“ DORIAN! ”

I trembled, shaking loose from the strings of this memory and shrugging off the groggy fog of sleep.

“ Listen to me! ”

Each word hit like a hammer, cracking away the memory bit by bit until all that remained were shadows. Someone continued screaming my name on a loop, calling to me, begging me, but I couldn’t understand…

A gurgle underwater flooded my eardrums.

My telepathy followed the shouting, followed the person calling to me as they reeled me further from my body and dragged my psychic energy through the night sky, then latched my magic to another person’s mind. Another frequency. A familiar frequency.

My eyes snapped open, and I sprang forward off the bed, gasping on the phantom pain of water filling my lungs, drowning me. I dug my nails into the floorboards, almost unable to see the wood as murky waves filled my vision.

I struggled to steady my telepathy. It’d shot across the city, latching onto someone’s pain, someone’s suffering. My arms quaked, syncing to the frantic flailing of the set that resisted the currents. As I sank into their mind, I struggled to find my bearings from their pain, but also, in part, their inner core held this hollow vacancy.

“Jamie.” I forced all my magic into the thread that yanked me awake, steered me to this moment, and warned me of the foreboding tragedy. “What’s happening?”

Struggling to my feet, I reached for my phone, eyes lost in the darkness of the room and water it felt as if I had to wade through.

Jamie choked, finally surfacing the blanket of water that held him down. How did he end up there? Hands held Jamie by the collar of his shirt, tugging him above. My chest tightened, crushed by the pit in Jamie’s frantic thoughts, but equally filled with relief by whoever helped him.

“Who would I be if I let you go so quickly?” The voice was unfamiliar but threatening, ominous, and twisted with a bizarre echo.

Jamie gasped, shoved back under.

NO!

I called Milo, reeling my telepathy back, attempting to see something, anything significant.

“Answer your phone, dammit.” Come on, Milo. Please. I need—

My telepathy swelled, bursting all around me and painting the room in images of the rocky shoreline, the moonlit sky hitting a sign, and Jamie casting a small tidal wave of whirled water that didn’t carry a hint of teleportation.

Why? Why wasn’t he jumping through, vanishing? Instead, he fought against the man’s grip, fled on foot, trudged through the water, and scrambled onto the slippery rocks.

“ Pay attention , you fucking idiot! ” My voice echoed, slamming me so hard it knocked the air out of my lungs.

No. This was Jamie’s lungs. A residual effect of connecting to him, feeling him gasp as his attacker knocked him headfirst against the rocks, kicking his back until his chest cracked against rough ground.

I gritted my teeth as my telepathy smacked me with information. It was as chaotic and as broken as the images linking me to Jamie.

Peter Graham. It was a name I was familiar with. But where from? Entropy. Cellular absorption. Everything about the hauntingly eerie magic unraveled in my mind. Dangerous and deadly. Intel flickered by like a strobe light, giving me fractured pieces that I barely comprehended. Finally, everything settled on a clear image of the moonlit sign: Juneway Beach.

What was I going to do? I swallowed the lump in my throat. It tasted like blood and bile.

“Dorian. Dorian, are you there?” Milo’s voice called out from my phone, doing what he did best: he pulled me back when my branch threatened to knock me into an infinite storm. “What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

“Milo.” I retrieved my phone. “Jamie Novak’s at Juneway Beach. He’s being attacked by someone named Peter Graham. I’m not sure how or why this is happening, but—”

“I’m on it.”

“Wait. This guy, he’s got a branch called—”

“I know it,” Milo said. “I know him.”

Enchanter Evergreen’s image threatened to tear my telepathy away from Jamie Novak, who continued resisting futilely against Peter Graham. Milo rushed out of his office, abandoning a stack of paperwork and case files he sorted through tirelessly in search of leads to small threads he might’ve missed connecting to bigger warlock factions linked to Theodore Whitlock. Every part of Milo refused to believe an action so brazen as attempting to fight through the MDC only to turn tail the second an obstacle appeared that didn’t carry an ulterior motive. He studied every connection to Theodore Whitlock in and outside of the jail, wondering what he’d missed.

Now he knew. Milo flew out the window, calculating every possibility of fighting against Peter Graham again. Again? Recollections surfaced in his thoughts as anxiety threatened to put him in a chokehold. The same chokehold Peter Graham had landed when Milo fought him without casting, the only sure way to defeat a foe so mighty. Everything Milo believed about Peter Graham was wrong. He was never supposed to land on this path, any path that made him a threat to others in the future. The Inevitable Future had carefully calculated everything. Yet now, he doubted his magic, magic he couldn’t rely on for what came next.

“Wanted to drag this out, remind you of my reach,” Peter said, pulling my telepathy back to the rocky beach shore, malice and venom in every word that left his lips, so cruel each syllable sent a shiver down my spine.

“It’s…it’s not supposed to…” Jamie coughed and gurgled.

“Gotta be quick, though.” Peter smacked his own head a few times. “A friend of mine is being very naughty, pulling on strings he shouldn’t be. Talking. Talking. Sending warnings to his betters. I’ll need to show him a much longer lesson than you, Jamie.”

I couldn’t make sense of Peter’s rantings, his nonsense. Whether because I was so closely linked to Jamie Novak or my telepathy had gone through a literal shredder of psychic energy, I couldn’t glean the maddening thoughts bottled in Peter’s head.

“This wasn’t supposed to be my grand return.” Peter sulked. “I wanted a feast; I wanted to revel in the mayhem as I shattered sanity. But perhaps a slaughter is unnecessary. Maybe only one has to die.”

What the fuck is he talking about?

Peter kicked Jamie, rolling him onto his back and staring down at the frightened boy. His remorseless expression sent Jamie’s thoughts deep into the abyss of trauma he carried everywhere with him.

“You think one is enough?” Peter cocked his head like he was searching for an answer, a response, but not from Jamie. “Honestly, I’m glad it’s you, kiddo. This should’ve been your end all along.”

“I don’t want… I don’t… I…” Blood and grime covered Jamie’s face. His eyes widened when Peter reached out to grab him. Skin ripped, bones crunched, and tears streamed across Jamie’s horrified face as Peter squeezed his grip. “ I don’t want to die. ”

Peter whipped his hand in a swift, fluid motion and snapped Jamie’s neck.

Every cell in my body vibrated. My insides were scraped out, gutted, and hollowed. I clung to the throbbing ache in my bones, the burning in my muscles, the agony that carried the last sensation I’d ever feel from Jamie Novak.

My telepathy exploded, whipping across the city chaotically until it found Milo, who flew closer and closer to save a life.

“ There’s no point, ” I thought, linking to Milo as I collapsed to the floor and sobbed. “ He’s dead. ”