So he sat there and did nothing.
For a while, he and Adelle sat on the rocky shore and looked up at the castle, watching as the nightmares threw themselves against the barrier Marshall had erected.
Once Marshall’s magic had replenished itself enough, he held out a hand toward the castle and closed it into a fist, crushing the colony and its monsters. When he opened his hand, he saw the remains of the castle sitting in it like so much sand, and he let it fall on the beach beside him.
Dusting his hands on his pants, he stood up, feeling every single one of his one hundred and thirty-seven years.
The void in him that had swallowed the loss of his parents and his young charge Nova had opened once more to take his best friend—a friend who had been doing his best to keep Marshall from succumbing to despair. A friend who had given everything to keep his teammates alive. A friend Marshall was certain he couldn’t live without.
Now Marshall found himself teetering on the edge and wondered if it was worth the effort to fight his way free once more like he had after losing his father.
The sky around them grew dark, and the wind picked up. In the Dreamscape, Marshall’s will was law; if he lost to despair here, the consequences would be deadly. Enough people had died to keep him alive, and he knew in his heart he wasn’t worth it.
“Give him to me,” he rasped, throat aching with barely suppressed emotion, bending down.
Marshall couldn’t leave his friend behind, and he had to make it back to the Real before he was swallowed by grief. At least in the Real he wouldn’t create something horrible when he lost control.
Adelle nodded wearily and uncurled her body to give him access to Jack’s… to Jack.
When Marshall’s hand touched Jack’s arm, a multicolored spark leaped from him to his friend. Jack’s body arched off Adelle’s lap, and he began to cough violently.
Marshall tumbled backward and landed on his ass, speechless while Adelle gripped Jack securely, trying to give him support while tremors wracked his body.
“Took you… long enough.” Jack’s voice was weak, but color began to leach back into his cheeks. Jack blinked up at Adelle’s astonished face. “Can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”
Marshall jerked Jack out of Adelle’s lap and into his own, crushing the giant man to his chest. “I thought…” His throat closed.
“Yeah, I know what you thought, idiot.” Jack’s voice was muffled against Marshall’s shirt. “Next time check before you write me off as dead, okay?”
Adelle began to rain a flurry of slaps on Jack, which Marshall could feel through his friend’s body. “Why. Did. You. Make. Me. Think. You. Were. Dead?!" Each word was punctuated with a smack.
“I was! Well, mostly.” Jack rolled off Marshall as fast as his rebooting body would allow and hid behind him for protection. “Mars, keep her off me, man.”
For once, Marshall ignored the nickname he hated so much. He was too confused to do otherwise. “What the hell did you do? How did you survive?”
“I threw everything I had left into you. I didn’t know if I could do that, but surprise!” Jack grimaced, giving a lie to his flippant tone. “I knew you were going to die if I didn’t, and I knew if there was anything of me left once you were done, you’d get me back to my body.”
Marshall buried his face in his hands and wanted to cry in relief, fear, and anger. Instead, he laughed—a strangled sound that sounded like a bird hitting a window.
He pulled both of his teammates in for a hug, and they all sat huddled together staring at the aurora that appeared overhead. As blue, amber, and multicolored jets of light danced playfully in the sky, the team quietly adjusted to the near miss they’d just experienced.
Eventually, Marshall stirred. “Okay, here’s the plan. We’re going to stay here until every single one of us is completely tanked up. Once we’re back in our bodies, we’re going to wallow in that palatial lounge of Clayton’s, and have all of Jack’s favorite foods delivered to us, which we will then proceed to eat in front of him while he watches. Because, I swear to the gods, Jack, if you ever do something like that again, I’ll fade you myself! Copy?” His voice shook with emotions he couldn’t even begin to process.
Adelle nodded soberly in agreement. “Copy.”
“Copy,” Jack said, though his mulish expression told Marshall the gravity of the situation was lost on him.
“And after that, we are going to show the Blaikes exactly how we feel about witches who consort with demons.”
Chapter 14Fourteen
The moment Cym’s compulsion faded, Fourteen skidded to a halt, tires squealing. The smell of burning rubber filled the air.
His heart raced like he’d torn halfway across the city on foot rather than on his bike, and sharp spikes of anger flooded through him, desperately burning away at the conditioning that riddled his mind.
God fucking damn Cym.
Torrents of pure emotion ripped through Fourteen’s body, only to be stopped cold by the nothingness of his conditioning. There was a battle inside his chest, swamping him in waves. Cold, then fire. Nothingness, then pure, unadulterated rage.
How fucking dare he? After everything they–
Fourteen turned the bike around.
When he found Cym, he was going to… what?
What did Fourteen want to do?
So many fucking things. Only half involved saving Cym. The other half involved a lot more strangling than Fourteen was comfortable with, and after briefly considering them, he shoved them into the cold parts of his mind to deal with later.
Fourteen was going to have to save that sneaky little shit again. And after that he’d probably have to keep doing it again and again unless something changed drastically.
It was becoming increasingly clear to Fourteen that Cym was going to fight him every step of the way to safety. Once Fourteen had him back, he was going to take Cym somewhere safe.
He had a safehouse in Montreal with a modified basement that might hold Cym for a time. If Fourteen wore earplugs, Cym couldn’t order Fourteen to let him go.
His bike darted into the morning traffic, and he ignored the indignant honking of the delivery truck he missed by an inch.
