Chapter 20
Morgan
Even Anita can’t hide her awe when I bring her into Bunny’s studio. His work is amazing. Overwhelming, even. It’s like being in the presence of a truly gifted master, and I know now that this gift is what doomed us all.
I drag her before the painting that called to me the last time we were here. Something in my gut tells me it’s the right one. I don’t know if the Shaman gave me that sense or if I had it all along. It doesn’t matter now.
“This is your big plan?” Anita asks. “Taking me back to my Queen? Sure, sign me up.”
“You’re a means to an end,” I snap back. “But I’m glad you’re happy to be headed to the gallows.”
She laughs, the same cackling, deranged one she’s had since her brother died. “How much of your soul did you pay to access the gate? Fifty percent? All of it?”
“Shut up.”
I step before the painting, already feeling the churn of magic. I put on a good face but I’m terrified. Petrified, really, of what’s on the Otherside. But there’s no other choice—not that I can see—not that Dylan has given me. Christensen told me this would be the way. I would make the sacrifice; so even in my fear, I’m ready.
I’m ready.
The word the Shaman gave me is on the tip of my tongue when a cold gust blows through the studio. Frigid air tosses papers and tips over jars of brushes and tools. Canvases crash to the floor. I glance at Anita, but she’s staring at the painting, a look of gleeful delight on her face.
I follow her gaze and see that the painting is no longer of a castle, it’s a twisted swirl, shimmering and alive. Focusing on the tiny window, the one I’d seen a figure in days before, I watch as it moves from yellow to gold and widens larger and larger until the whole space is consumed by a gaping hole.
I step forward, dragging the still-bound Anita with one hand as I unsheathe my sword and hold it before me. Only the gods know what waits for us, but that cold air and dank smell make me think it’s nothing friendly.
“Don’t try anything,” I say to Anita.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me,” the girl says, her blue eyes vibrant with life. “But I can’t say the same about him.”
*
Bunny stands in the portal, copper eyes behind his askew glasses and hair gleaming. He looks drained and exhausted, but there’s something else. Something dangerous, like a wounded animal or desperate man.
Something tells me he’s both.
I hold the sword between us, the jewels Damien forged in the hilt glinting. “How dare you come back here,” I say. “I should gut you.”
“But you won’t.” It’s not a question. The cold wind of the portal still rips through the room. “Give her to me. That’s all I want.”
“I’m sure it is.” I shake my head. “You fooled me once, Bunny. You don’t get the option to do it again.”
“Give her to me,” he says again. “It’s how we end this.”
“We?” I laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Tell me, how are the ’we’ living in the dungeons? Are they still alive? Do their hearts still beat? Or do you listen to their cries of pain and continue with the bidding of the Morrigan?”
He pales at the mention of the Ravens. “I’m giving you a chance, Morgan. Go, take Dylan and go. Leave this place. He can help you hide and you’re both immune to the virus.”
The reality of his words slam into me. “You’re suggesting we run and let the world succumb to the Darkness? You think I’m a coward? You certainly know better than that about your fellow Guardian.”
He glances around the room. “Don’t pretend Dylan knows of this venture. He would agree with me.”
“I doubt that.” But Dylan had said it himself. The others wouldn’t want saving. They would want me safe and protected. Is that why this has taken so long? Is he keeping me from going to confront and destroy the Morrigan? My head hurts from the confusion, the betrayal and deceit.
I take a step closer to Bunny. He doesn’t budge and his hand coils into a fist. “Understand something, former Guardian. I’m going to save my mates. I am bound to them, I will heal them, and I will not allow them to be used by the Darkness as long as I am alive.”
“You’ll find nothing but shells,” he tells me. “There is nothing to bring back.”
“No. They are stronger than that. Dylan survived at the hands of the sadistic soldier, Casteel. They can too.”
He flinches at the name of the soldier. “Do you really think so? Do you think Dylan came back whole?”
“Yes.” It’s a lie. A bold lie about my lover and guardian. My sentinel. Everything in Bunny’s comment makes complete sense. Why Dylan’s so guarded. Why it’s taken so long to tear down his walls. Why his passion is so intense, much more than the others. Every moment with Dylan is a struggle, but we’re making progress. We’ve made progress. “I will heal them. Each of them.”
Something in Bunny’s eyes falter. He looks like a man searching for a lifeline—a string of hope. I know what he wants, but I can’t give it to him. The fear and rage built up inside takes over and I use his brief distraction against him, pushing him with one hand and dragging Anita with another.
Together we fall into the cold, heartless, dark.