Chapter Thirty-Five

I spent the rest of the evening restless. Yeah, struggling to get up and walk, but buzzed from the afterglow of sex. Milo, on the other hand, was teeming with energy by the time we moved into the bedroom and then passed out the second his head hit the pillow. His ability to shut out the whole world without overthinking a single thing before going to sleep was mesmerizing.

With him asleep, my mind wandering all over the place, and the kickoff to winter break, I figured it was as good a time as any to continue sorting through the visions, the memories, the chaos swirling around my inner core. No distractions or deadlines, just me and the daunting task of fixing my overloaded brain.

Laying back, I sank into the mattress until my consciousness fell deeper into the pits of my mind. A terrible mess that left the elegant rooms of my inner core trashed. Normally, here in my head, I could spot the thoughts of others trickling by, whispers and shouts alike, text on display, or images flickering about, but since regaining the lost knowledge, my fucking manifestation decided to drop on my lap in one sitting, everything in here became a jumbled trash heap.

Milo’s visions flashed brightly from every direction like the most irritating gifs forming a movie reel where every frame was out of order or connected to a thousand different films. Mainly because they were. The words hurled from the lips of the chimera and manifestation were etched in the empty air of my mind, scarring my brain. Letters formed in deep scarlets or blackish blues, carrying the emotional wavelengths of their deep-seated disdain for one another. Toxic rage and venomous hatred threatened to bleed into my every thought if I didn’t contain these awful memories. I wouldn’t be controlled by these feelings. I wouldn’t let them dictate my future or rewrite my past.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled the darkness of my subconscious high into my inner core and replaced the marble flooring I typically conjured. Not that I could see much of the floor with Milo’s flashing visions playing everywhere.

If I didn’t remove what had already seeped into my subconscious, I’d have to endure reliving the manifestation’s short-lived life in my dreams. That wasn’t about to fucking happen.

Milo rolled over in his sleep, and a soothing touch stirred in the darkness of my mind as he snuggled me and pulled me into a bearhug—his personal favorite while he slept. The warmth of his body pressed to mine made for a beautiful distraction as I extracted broken memories from my subconscious and sent them into a box I’d conjured.

Not a very big box and not too different from the filing sort Milo made in his inner core when sorting visions. I should make a thousand boxes for every single memory. But I didn’t want to sort these memories or visions right now. I simply wanted them out of the way. Normally, boxing away things was a terrible way to repress traumas. They’d eventually explode, bleeding out in the worst ways at the worst moments, yet it was the only solution to the fog and guilt in my mind.

“You could ask for help.” Milo’s breath tickled my ear, stealing me from my mind and back to the bed where we lay. “I’m always here to help.”

“I’m fine.” I rubbed his arm, wrapped under my stomach and holding me in place.

“Just let me in.” Milo kissed my neck. “Please.”

It was as tempting an offer as it was mortifying, letting Milo into my head so he could help organize this mess, but then he’d see exactly how terrible everything had gotten. Not that he’d judge…probably.

Still, with everything in disarray, I couldn’t invite him even if I wanted to. There was barely enough room in my chaotic mind for surface thoughts at this point. Hence, another big reason I needed to deal with this mess that my manifestation left. Sort of his big “fuck you, Dorian” before going off to die.

“Don’t you trust me?” Milo whispered, making it hard to focus on my tasks in this semi-awake, half-dazed state.

“Implicitly.”

“Then let me in.” He kissed my neck again, gently and with just a touch of psychic energy meant to connect our minds, reaching out with a hand for me to grab, lips for me to meet.

“I can’t. It’s too crowded.”

“I have a workaround.” His skin vibrated, tingling against my body as he channeled magic. His other hand rubbed against my bare chest, cool to the touch and almost enough to make me open my eyes, but before I could, Milo stood inside my fractured, fucked-up head.

“How in the hell?” I quirked a brow.

“Remember that really fun enchantment I bought?” Milo grinned, thoughts stirring to the one and only time he’d used this particular type of enchantment which involved diving into my mind while he screwed me. Quite the surreal experience and not one I intended on repeating anytime soon.

“We’re not doing that again.”

“Doing what?” His coy expression did little to hide his minxy eyes.

“My head’s too messy—as you can see—for any type of romance while traipsing about in here.”

“Oh, so I should probably save the other enchantments I bought for special birthday requests?” He walked across the black flooring of my inner core, eyeing the flickering visions and studying the carved words of another’s mind. “Thankfully, these enchantments are multi-purposed. You really need another psychic’s help. And we both know you’re not gonna see a professional.”

I scoffed. “As if anyone could unravel my mind better than me.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me for help tonight?”

“You were tired.”

“Please, I’m always tired.” He thrust his hips. “And wired. I should’ve been in here sooner, given the major strobe light effect you’ve got going.”

“I messed all this up, subliminally, sure. But I clearly wanted a manifestation to absorb and contain all the things my telepathy grabbed, held onto, saw, and made the day-to-day unbearable.” Quite the statement, considering most of what my mind dealt with each day felt like swimming against a current.

“You don’t need to be self-conscious. Not around me.”

“I’m not. I just sort of wanted to fix it up some before asking you.”

“Look, we can do this little dance. You say you don’t want help, don’t wanna burden me, wanna learn to master your branch independently—which you will like you always have—but I already know you’re gonna waste your whole vacation trying to sort out the rumblings in your head. And because of my branch—damn, clairvoyants. Yeah, yeah—I know you’re not gonna make much headway, then right before school starts back up, you’ll ask. Which, of course, I’ll gladly offer my assistance.” Milo jested. “Why don’t we skip ahead so I can enjoy a little holiday time with you uninterrupted?”

I could see his thoughts teeming with events and festivities he planned on dragging me to.

I sighed. “Let’s get started.”

“Awesome.” Milo waved a hand, rearranging his visions, stacking the flashing motions on top of one another in a way I couldn’t. Whenever I tried, they repelled each other and ricocheted all over like the ultimate ‘unknown error’ popup.

“How’d you do that?”

“I know how to handle visions. Though, I’m actually digging the strobe light, dirty nightclub vibe you’ve got. Wasn’t my jam at first, but it’s growing on me.” Milo wiggled his hips as he worked. “Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss.”

And now he was dancing, organizing, and creating the most annoying melody in my head.

“Do you need to do that?”

“You love it.” He moved his arms, calling me over but still arranging visions. “Come on. You need a little music in here.”

“I’m gonna deal with memories while you sort visions.”

“You’re welcome.” He uhn tissed to the rhythmic beat he’d awakened in my mind while he worked.

“Are you seriously going to dance the entire time you’re in here?”

Milo continued to shimmy and shake, each step adding a flare of light to the black flooring, and then he stacked another set of visions together. “Music helps clear my head. And since we’re renovating yours, figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

“And here I thought you just used music to skirt my telepathy.”

“Added bonus.” Milo puckered his lips. “Mwah.”

The more he sorted visions, the more his mind sank into mine. His bright aura illuminated the darkness in my head. Each shake of his hips, snap of his fingers, and tap of his foot splattered paint in every direction. Sky blues where the visions had once crowded. Sunshine yellows over the black flooring. Bright oranges along the walls. Soon, my inner core was covered in pastel paints.

While Milo worked to place the visions I’d gleaned into one stacked corner of my mind, I sorted through memories of my manifestation, studying the illusions he had of Finn’s time in the hospital bed, glossed over the tampered minds of those he afflicted with our magic, and endured the horrors of his time spent in the pits of the chimera’s demonic energy. It was a difficult balancing act. I couldn’t very well chuck this knowledge out of my head. Memories didn’t work like that. But I wanted to prevent them from fully cementing into my subconscious, into my daily thoughts.

There were so many memories, so I took them one by one and boxed them away somewhere they wouldn’t fester and rot my own thoughts. I found myself drawn to one bleak moment of my manifestation crawling through the black sludge of the chimera’s mind, dragging himself out and toward Finn. Not the Finn he’d trapped in lies by tampering with his memories, but the Finn who’d suffered so long at the hands of the devil and found himself fully aware again. Because of me. Because of my goddamn manifestation.

“Where is he right now?” My manifestation asked in the memory.

I stared through his eyes as he surveyed the shadows, yet his gaze was drawn to the small light of hope Finn offered.

“Working. He often works,” Finn said gently, instructive and calm. “If you’re quiet, careful, you can hear him.” Finn glanced up. “Right now, he’s sending a message.”

The frustration ripped at the edges of this memory as he tried and failed to glean what Finn meant, what he saw through the darkness.

“Here.” Finn brushed the back of his hand against my manifestation’s cheek.

I pressed a hand to my own cheek, sinking into the sweet sensation. A touch I’d almost forgotten.

It all swiftly melted away as Finn’s magic stirred in the mind of my manifestation. He seared a memory of his own magic.

Every image flew by so quickly.

Theodore’s sadistic smile. A wisp of energy. The carnage of Theodore’s near escape. The delight in his eyes as he surrendered. The chimera slinking into Peter’s mind as guards banished fiends and others escaped. Peter’s possession. True possession. Blood. Tar. Magic. The city of Chicago flew by in a haze as the chimera searched for something. He stabbed his hand. Blood. So much blood. Then, letters etched onto parchment while he whispered words in Latin. The letter burned in blue flames of primal casting, and the ashes fluttered in the air with purpose, thoughts of Theodore as the sprinkled note vanished in the sky.

I froze each instantaneous flash and divided them, hoping to make sense of the seconds that carried hours’ worth of knowledge.

Milo waltzed over, staring at the looped images I organized. “What’s that?”

“A living memory.” It worked the same way the students had banded together to create ones of Jamie Novak, only Finn’s branch didn’t require all the extra steps. “Finn showed this to my manifestation.”

“What’s the chimera doing?”

I shrugged. “Sending some note off. Nothing really came of it.”

“To who?”

“No idea.”

“It involves Theodore Whitlock, though?”

“Yeah,” I said with a lump of guilt in my throat.

My manifestation was foolish enough to try and control the most dangerous warlock I’d ever encountered and ended up allowing him to conspire with the deadliest demon I’d ever met.

“Looks like the chimera was doing Theodore a favor.” Milo studied each image, analyzing them intently. “My guess, something big enough, bold enough to convince the warlock to stay in lockup, so as to not interfere with the chimera’s agenda. Must’ve been one hell of a favor, too.”

“I thought Theodore stayed because he knew he couldn’t escape.”

“True. But everything about Theodore is reckless abandonment and diving headfirst into carnage. Calculating, yes. Patient, only at the advice of others.” Milo drifted into his mind, flickering from my thoughts momentarily as he searched through visions. The enchantment held the tether between us.

“What is it?”

Milo’s eyes flitted, rolling back as he searched through visions. “After the chimera and manifestation died, the futures blurred by demonic energy and skirted by psychic magic became clearer. I can see where the meddling occurred, but I can’t tell which paths they affected. It’s like a domino, and I don’t know for certain which one they knocked over or which trail to track. I can hear the clink, feel the rattle of change, but can’t quite see what’s coming.”

“And you think what the chimera did here caused something?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Milo grinned. “Another problem for another day. Dwelling never solves much other than feeding the beast of depression.”

I squinted at him. “That felt like a personal attack.”

“Never.” He pursed his lips.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I know. Luckily, you’re ad dick ted to me and all my insufferably uncharming ways.” Milo giggled at his own terrible joke. “See what I did there?”

I huffed. “Can we work without the commentary?”

Milo’s sleeping body pulled me into a tighter embrace, hugging me with intense love. The soothing touch comforted me as we worked in here, with him returning to the opposite side of my inner core to stack visions while I sorted the memories my manifestation had dropped back into my head. It was lovely to feel Milo, to work with him, to prepare for whatever came next.

I had no idea what ripple effects my manifestation had inadvertently brought about, whether Theodore Whitlock would prove a challenge, whether some unknown threat lurked, whether he’d shifted the happiest ever after that ever aftered. But I did know I wouldn’t let it deter me. I’d master the magics I’d shrugged off for too long. I’d stay close to Milo, to the light and joy he offered. I’d train my students to be ready for any threat the future might bring. Most of all, I’d right the wrongs my magic caused.