Page 141
Story: The Mask Falling
Behind him, a red light burned to life above the gardens, turning the rain on the windows to blood.
“Free,” I said, “to rule herself.”
I stepped back, breaking his grip with one wrench, and pointed the revolver straight at his heart.
Jaxon made no further attempts to dissuade me. For once, his face was blank. He was the White Binder, and he was above fear. I held the revolver with both hands and pulled the hammer back.
“I know things, Paige. About you. About your family,” Jaxon said. “Shoot me, and the secret goes to the æther.”
“Don’t you dare,” I forced out, “mention family. You don’t understand the concept.”
“Did I not make you a new one?”
My hands trembled. The world narrowed down the end of the gun and the blur of the face before me. There was no strength in my arms, my hands. Jaxon was still alive, and his smile was returning, and time was running out.
He had left all the humans of the first colony to die, and the Ranthen to suffer for twenty years. He had divided and preyed on the syndicate for coin. Time and time again, he had proven what he was.
And yet suddenly I knew I couldn’t shoot him in cold blood. If this was another scrimmage, or if we had met on a battlefield, I might have been able to justify taking his life. Not like this.
Defeat crashed over me in waves. Disgusted by my own weakness, I held out the gun to Arcturus.
“I can’t,” I said stiffly. “He’s yours. If you want your revenge, take it now.”
After a silence, Arcturus took the revolver from my hand and studied Jaxon, who lifted his chin.
“You wouldn’t do it. Not to her,” Jaxon purred. “Perhaps if it was just the two of us. No doubt your hatred of me has deepened over twenty years, each twinge in your scars refining it, honing it.”
Arcturus turned the revolver over, so it caught the light. He did not aim it. Neither did he let go of it.
“Your rage is a dark thing, Rephaite,” Jaxon said, toneless now. His face was devoid of emotion. “It has matured like wine in a deep cellar, locked away for decades. Perhaps you would tear me to pieces, like the mindless beast you can become.” He stepped toward Arcturus, palms turned out, and nodded to me. “But will you indulge your grudge in front of Paige? Will you reveal your inhumanity by murdering the only father she has left?”
“Don’t listen,” I said to Arcturus. “He’s trying to get into your head. If you want to kill him, do it.”
The silence seemed to go on for eons. Jaxon was still now. I waited, taut as wire, for the gunshot. For the burnt and bitter smell of death.
When Arcturus folded the gun back into my numb hand, my knees almost gave way.
“I told you,” he said quietly. “There are always other ways to fight.” He took a step back. “I will not kill an unarmed human. Not even this one. I am no Sargas. If that makes me a fool, so be it.”
Jaxon attempted to look unmoved, but his chest sank as he released a long-held breath.
“A lovely sentiment. I can see why you two are so fond of each other,” he remarked, his voice tinged with a darkness I remembered. “But once again, Arcturus . . .ghastlydecision-making.”
He pressed two fingers to the crease of his arm. As the warmth drained from the air, frost clouded every mirror and crystallized the condensation on the windows. He had summoned a boundling.
“Stop,” I barked. “Jaxon, yousnake—”
Too late. It had already come.
I knew it by the shape in the æther. The same poltergeist I had encountered at the scrimmage. The essence of a man who had torn five women apart and congealed into an all-consuming black hole.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“Defend me, my friend,” Jaxon called to it, “and drive out the intruders.” His fingertips were still pressed to his forearm. “I brought you an old playfellow, but if you could remove the lady from my presence first . . .”
I had no time to react before the Ripper obeyed. It seared across the gallery, lifted me right off my feet—like a noose—and smashed me with unearthly force into one of the mirrors.
Glass shattered around me. My head struck metal. An instant later, the pendant awoke. The shock had barely registered when I fell back to the floor and crumpled, leaving a spiderweb of cracks on the mirror. The æther shrieked around the fractured numen. Before I could gather my wits, let alone rise, the Ripper flew up, loosened one of the chandeliers, and brought it crashing down between me and Arcturus, snowing the floor with glass.
“Free,” I said, “to rule herself.”
I stepped back, breaking his grip with one wrench, and pointed the revolver straight at his heart.
Jaxon made no further attempts to dissuade me. For once, his face was blank. He was the White Binder, and he was above fear. I held the revolver with both hands and pulled the hammer back.
“I know things, Paige. About you. About your family,” Jaxon said. “Shoot me, and the secret goes to the æther.”
“Don’t you dare,” I forced out, “mention family. You don’t understand the concept.”
“Did I not make you a new one?”
My hands trembled. The world narrowed down the end of the gun and the blur of the face before me. There was no strength in my arms, my hands. Jaxon was still alive, and his smile was returning, and time was running out.
He had left all the humans of the first colony to die, and the Ranthen to suffer for twenty years. He had divided and preyed on the syndicate for coin. Time and time again, he had proven what he was.
And yet suddenly I knew I couldn’t shoot him in cold blood. If this was another scrimmage, or if we had met on a battlefield, I might have been able to justify taking his life. Not like this.
Defeat crashed over me in waves. Disgusted by my own weakness, I held out the gun to Arcturus.
“I can’t,” I said stiffly. “He’s yours. If you want your revenge, take it now.”
After a silence, Arcturus took the revolver from my hand and studied Jaxon, who lifted his chin.
“You wouldn’t do it. Not to her,” Jaxon purred. “Perhaps if it was just the two of us. No doubt your hatred of me has deepened over twenty years, each twinge in your scars refining it, honing it.”
Arcturus turned the revolver over, so it caught the light. He did not aim it. Neither did he let go of it.
“Your rage is a dark thing, Rephaite,” Jaxon said, toneless now. His face was devoid of emotion. “It has matured like wine in a deep cellar, locked away for decades. Perhaps you would tear me to pieces, like the mindless beast you can become.” He stepped toward Arcturus, palms turned out, and nodded to me. “But will you indulge your grudge in front of Paige? Will you reveal your inhumanity by murdering the only father she has left?”
“Don’t listen,” I said to Arcturus. “He’s trying to get into your head. If you want to kill him, do it.”
The silence seemed to go on for eons. Jaxon was still now. I waited, taut as wire, for the gunshot. For the burnt and bitter smell of death.
When Arcturus folded the gun back into my numb hand, my knees almost gave way.
“I told you,” he said quietly. “There are always other ways to fight.” He took a step back. “I will not kill an unarmed human. Not even this one. I am no Sargas. If that makes me a fool, so be it.”
Jaxon attempted to look unmoved, but his chest sank as he released a long-held breath.
“A lovely sentiment. I can see why you two are so fond of each other,” he remarked, his voice tinged with a darkness I remembered. “But once again, Arcturus . . .ghastlydecision-making.”
He pressed two fingers to the crease of his arm. As the warmth drained from the air, frost clouded every mirror and crystallized the condensation on the windows. He had summoned a boundling.
“Stop,” I barked. “Jaxon, yousnake—”
Too late. It had already come.
I knew it by the shape in the æther. The same poltergeist I had encountered at the scrimmage. The essence of a man who had torn five women apart and congealed into an all-consuming black hole.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
“Defend me, my friend,” Jaxon called to it, “and drive out the intruders.” His fingertips were still pressed to his forearm. “I brought you an old playfellow, but if you could remove the lady from my presence first . . .”
I had no time to react before the Ripper obeyed. It seared across the gallery, lifted me right off my feet—like a noose—and smashed me with unearthly force into one of the mirrors.
Glass shattered around me. My head struck metal. An instant later, the pendant awoke. The shock had barely registered when I fell back to the floor and crumpled, leaving a spiderweb of cracks on the mirror. The æther shrieked around the fractured numen. Before I could gather my wits, let alone rise, the Ripper flew up, loosened one of the chandeliers, and brought it crashing down between me and Arcturus, snowing the floor with glass.
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