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The Dark Light Series Box Set (Dark Light #1-3) by S. L. Jennings (82)

 

IT ALL HAPPENS so fast. Much too fast for any human boy.

Impossibly quick, he reveals a dagger and plunges it straight into Donna’s abdomen. The way he smiles as the blade slices into her flesh, I almost think I am imagining it. But I can’t deny the wet sound of hot steel tearing into soft, pliant skin and tissue. I can smell it burning into her body, killing vital organs on its journey through Donna’s belly. Yet I still don’t believe it. Not until she slowly turns to us, the dagger protruding from her fragile frame in a sea of deep red. She opens her mouth to speak, yet only blood gurgles up from her throat, spurting out of her mouth. Then she drops to floor, choking on her last breaths.

“No!” I scream, arms outstretched, covered in a fiery auburn haze. Electric fire bursts from my fingertips, surging to the murderous human boy until I can no longer see that sinister smile. Until the skin melts from his bones before being incinerated into a pile of ash.

“Mom!” I cry, falling to my knees to cradle her limp body in my arms. “No, no, no! Please!”

Chris is screaming, sobbing hysterically, praying desperately for a miracle. He drops to his knees in front of us. “No! Please don’t leave me. Please just stay with me, baby. Stay with me.”

I feel Dorian beside me, checking her vitals. He looks up at me with grave, hopeless eyes, but I refuse to see them. I refuse to believe this has happened.

“No! I can save her! I can bring her back!”

My blood-stained hands are already shrouded in an auburn haze when I lift them over the wound. Her pupils are unfocused—empty—but I still try to align our gazes. Dorian holds her head up to meet mine, but there’s no connection. I can’t feel her mind. I can’t sense her soul.

“Come on,” I grit, refocusing every bit of my power to my hands. “We have to pull out the blade. Hurry!”

I don’t even realize that Niko is on my other side until he reaches over to grab the dagger. It sizzles when his skin meets the handle, and I instantly smell burnt flesh.

“Ack!” He draws his hand back, only to shake it off to try again, gaining the same results. “It’s cursed! I can’t fucking touch it!”

Dorian carefully places Donna’s limp head in my hands before reaching over to try to uproot the blade. “Fuck!” he barks, pulling his hand back.

“What is it? What can we do?” We’re losing precious seconds. I can feel Donna’s life waning. I can’t even sense her presence anymore.

“Let me.” Alexander kneels down as Morgan pulls Chris away to give us room to work. He reaches over, wrapping his hand around the handle of the dagger and slides it from her body. I don’t even have time to wonder why he was able to do it. I immediately focus my energy to my fingertips, willing my life to sustain hers. Hoping I can save her as I did Morgan. Praying for a miracle.

Gray flakes of dead human flesh blow away into the wind, some attaching to the sticky blood still spilling out of Donna’s abdomen. My stomach roils but I swallow down the heave in my throat. I have to concentrate harder. I have to give her more of me.

“Gabriella,” I hear Dorian say beside me. He places a hand on my forearm, but I nudge it away.

“I just have to try harder. I have to keep trying.” The auburn haze is extended around Donna’s entire body now. “Please, Mom! Please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you. I need you. Please!”

“Baby, it’s too late. You did everything you could. You have to stop now.”

“No! I won’t stop trying! This will work!”

“Baby girl, listen to him,” Niko says gently. “You can’t save her. You’re killing yourself.”

“I don’t care!” I push my power more, ignoring the fatigue attacking my body. I’m dizzy, but I don’t care. I just need to hang on a little while longer.

“You’re fading, baby. Please. You have to stop,” Dorian urges.

When he places his hands over mine, pulling them away from the gaping wound, I can’t stop him. All I can do is cry, my agonized tears raining down on Donna’s face until there’s not an ounce of feeling left in me. Until I am so numb with grief that I can’t cry anymore. I know he’s right; I knew deep down that it was too late for my mom. All the magic in the world couldn’t bring her back to us.

I feel hands on me, sending surges of comfort and serenity, but the pain is too deep. It’s crushing me, stripping me bit by bit until I’m raw with sorrow. I don’t want to be consoled. I want to feel this pain; I have to remember it. I want it to fuel my rage when I come face to face with the bastard responsible for taking away the only mother I’ve ever known.

I shake my head. “No. Not me. Chris. He needs it more than me.” I hear my adopted dad howling his anguish as if he had been the one to fall upon that blade. Right now, I know he would do anything to take Donna’s place.

Niko goes to him while Morgan comes to slide in his place. “I’m so sorry, Gabs,” she whispers. “But it’s ok. She’s ok, Gabs.”

“Ok? Ok!” I sob. “She isn’t ok, Morgan! She’s gone! She’s…she’s…” I can’t say it. I can’t say the word. She’s dead. The woman who loved and cared for me as her own from the moment I was placed in her arms is dead.

“But she’s ok. She’s at peace. And she’s here. With us, right now.”

Teary eyes wide, Morgan points to an empty space just feet away from where we sit. “She’s here, Gabs. And she said to tell you it’s ok. It’s ok to let her go.”

The room goes eerily silent and still as a blanket of peace wraps around us. I can’t see Donna’s spirit, but I can feel it. I can feel her love and warmth enveloping this very room. Even in death, it’s her gentle strength that comforts me.

I drown in my tears once more, holding Donna’s still, lifeless body in my arms. Twenty-one years ago, I lost the mother that gave me life. Now I’ve lost the mother that gave me love.

I SIT ON the loveseat, the very same place I sat just hours before as Donna served us all lemonade and cookies. Someone draped a blanket over my shoulders, but I’m still shivering. I can’t seem to stop. Morgan brings me a cup of hot tea, and I take it with trembling hands, thinking of all the times Donna made me tea with her special herbs. She wanted to protect me. She knew it was an impossible feat, but she did it anyway.

“How do you feel?” she whispers beside me.

“Numb,” I answer, my voice hoarse from screaming and crying. “But it hurts. It hurts everywhere.” I pull the blanket tighter around me. Luckily, I still had some clothing in my old bedroom, and when Dorian could finally pry me off of the floor, he got me out of my blood-soaked clothes. I was grateful; I couldn’t stand the smell of death on me for one more second.

I look up at my best friend, who looks shaken down to her core. “How about you? I know that must’ve been rough for you to see.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know what to feel—what to believe—anymore.”

We’re silent for a long stretch as we both sip tea and stare down at the floor, not sure what to say or do to bring each other comfort.

“You saw her,” I whisper, unable to hold it in for a moment longer.

“Yes.”

“And she…she was gone? You’re sure you saw her?” I know the answer, but if there is one tiny shred of hope…if there is some way to bring her back…

“I’m sure, Gabs,” she says, dispelling my false hope. “I’m sorry—you know I am. I wish it was different. But she’s ok. She’s at peace. She’s just worried for you.”

She should be, a little voice inside my head says.

Dorian and Niko come from the back room, their faces weary and solemn. I’m weak, but I push myself off the couch, ignoring the fatigue stiffening my joints.

“How is he?” I ask, pushing out what little voice I have left.

“He’s resting,” Dorian answers. He passes a glance to Niko then looks back to me. “He resisted, but we were able to subdue him.”

When Alexander mentioned disposing Donna’s body, Chris went ballistic. He refused to let the other men touch her and insisted on placing her corpse on their bed until he was ready to say goodbye. But as hard as it was to admit it, I knew we had to act fast. The police couldn’t know about this, and it was a possibility that the neighbors heard the commotion. We had to let her go if we wanted to keep this under wraps. They could use magic to clean up the blood, but Alexander needed to transport her body elsewhere to incinerate it.

Dorian leads me back to the couch and pulls me into his lap, cradling me in his arms. He smells so good, his scent soothing and euphoric. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck and before I can stop myself, I breathe deeply, letting his essence fill my lungs.

“Sorry,” I whisper, burying my face in the collar of his shirt.

“Don’t be, baby,” he coos, running a hand over my hair. “You needed it. I’ll take care of you later. But right now…right now I think we need to talk about something.”

I sit up and look at him, his expression pensive. “What is it?”

“We think,” he begins, nodding toward Niko sitting across from us, “that we can help Chris heal from this. From…all of this.”

“I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

“He’s in a great deal of pain, Gabriella. Pain that may never go away, even with time. We can help him forget…everything.”

Everything?

“Go on.”

“We can do a reversal spell. It will take away his pain, and he can go on with his life. He can be happy again.”

“Wait, hold up,” I say, raising a palm. “What do you mean? You want to reverse time?”

Dorian shakes his head. “No. His memories. In the span of a day, he has lost his daughter and his wife. His sole purpose was to protect you both. Now he has nothing. Men like Chris don’t just get over their hurt easily. It consumes them. I should know—I felt that same magnitude of agony when I thought I had lost you.”

“But what memories do you want to reverse?”

Dorian glances at Niko and his younger brother nods before fixing his eyes on me. “All the ones including Donna. And you.”

“What do you mean, all the ones—?”

“He’ll have no memory of either of you. It will be as if he has lived his life without having a wife and child. Everything will be intact—his career, his friends, his hobbies—but he’ll have no recollection of you or Donna. We can transfer him to another state, give him a fresh start. He can find love again. He can have another shot at life.”

“You want him to forget us? To forget the love of his life? That’s insane! Absolutely not!”

Dorian gently turns my head to face him, and I see how much it pains him to even mention this to me. “Gabriella, it is selfish to keep him hurting like this. He’s hopeless, baby. I felt it. He feels as if he has nothing else to live for. That’s no kind of life. It’s unfair to leave him in despair when there will be no one left to pull him out of it.”

Tears slide down my cheeks now. I don’t even understand how I have any left to cry. “But he has me! I can help him! I can be here for him!”

“No, you can’t, baby girl,” Niko interjects. “It’s not safe for him to be here, or anywhere near you for that matter. How long do you think it will take before another one is sent to kill? Chris will be a sitting duck.”

I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t find a logical rebuttal. They’re right. As much as it hurts, I know that what they’re saying is true.

I have to let him go. If I truly love him, I have to give him another shot at a regular life.

Just as I ingest the finality of my decision, Alexander walks through the door, his eyes desolate. Suddenly, it all comes back to me…his earlier conversation with Donna. That twist of suspicion in my gut…

“We thought for sure you were captured by the Dark. How did you escape?”

“Why don’t you ask your husband that question?”

I’m in his face before he can even shut the front door, my fatigue forgotten.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I jab an accusing finger in his chest. “Tell me what you know. Now!”

“Gabriella…I don’t understand where this—”

“Ever since you showed up, people are dying! Things are happening that we can’t explain. Be honest; do you have something to do with the humans trying to kill us?”

Alexander takes a step back, betrayal and hurt on his handsome face. “No. Of course not.”

“Then how do you explain all this? What do you know about the knife that boy had? How were you able to touch it when both Dorian and Niko couldn’t?”

Alexander pulls the knife from behind him before going to the living room to hold it up for the rest of the group to see. “This is a Polemos dagger, The Edge of War. There were very few created, and only a Polemos can wield it. A wound from this blade is almost always fatal, for mortals and immortals alike.”

“Do you know who it belongs to?” I believe him, but he’s still not off the hook.

“No. It is only held by dignitaries and decorated warriors. But it’s evident that a Polemos transferred their power to that human boy. That’s the only way he could have manipulated it. And it explained his ability to elude us all with his stealth.”

“Polemos,” Dorian mutters. “The boy earlier was influenced by the house of Thanatos.”

“So you think the eight families are coming for us and sending humans to do their dirty work?” Niko asks, stroking the thin layer of scruff on his chin. “Fucking cowards if you ask me.”

I take my place on the couch beside Dorian, placing my hand in his. “But if that’s true, why were those humans getting tattoos several months ago? They couldn’t have known that you would double-cross them. And what if there are hundreds—shit, thousands—representing each house?”

I look over at Morgan, who looks like she may pass out at any moment. I can feel her discontent. She’s afraid, confused and exhausted. The last twenty-four hours have utterly shattered her.

“Morg, why don’t you go lie down in my room? I think we should stay here tonight. I don’t want to leave Chris alone.”

I feel Dorian tense beside me, and Niko shakes his head. “Not happening, baby girl. They could send more. Go back to the apartment complex. Dorian can tighten the ward there, but we can’t alter the one already in place here. It isn’t our magic. You and Morgan head back home, and I’ll stay here with Chris. It’ll give me a chance to…handle…our situation.”

Now? They want to do this now?

“But…I’m not ready.” I shake my head, my eyes clouded with fresh tears. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

Dorian pulls me close, resting his chin on my head. I feel his lips in my hair. “It’s easier this way, baby. He’s subdued now. If we wait and let him wake up, he’ll only be plagued with more pain. You don’t want him to face that again.”

I release a shaky breath and dash away the moisture on my cheeks. “You’re right. I hate to admit it, but you’re right.” I turn to Alexander, regarding him with a pinched expression. “I just have to know one thing first—what did you mean? When you told…Donna…to ask Chris about your escape? How would he know anything about that?”

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “He wouldn’t know about my escape. But he knew about my capture. Including your mother’s.”

My mother?

“It was Chris who tipped off the Light when they went looking for her. He had been questioned and, of course, they used his love for Donna against him. I’d imagine he did it to protect her, but I can’t help but feel that he is responsible for Natalia’s execution.”

I take a beat to digest his words, pushing suspicion from my mind. I’m about to say goodbye to Chris forever. I don’t want anything tainting my view of him right now.

“I’m going to see Chris,” I tell him. “But we’ll talk about this later.”

Before I make my way towards the back of the house, Niko tugs at my arm. “Don’t worry, Gabs. When he wakes up, he’ll be ok. He’ll get a job transfer out of the state and will be on his way to some place safe by the end of the week. He’ll get another shot at happiness. He won’t even remember you or Donna.”

I nod, yet a grimace rests on my lips. Chris won’t even remember us—his wife and child. And even though I know it’s necessary, it hurts me to my core.

I enter the dark bedroom that he once shared with his wife. They were married for over twenty years; it would probably kill him to wake up without her beside him. Chris sleeps peacefully on his back, quietly snoring in his magic-induced slumber. There’s still a bit of dried blood on his face, and I reach over to scrape the red flakes with my fingernail, letting my touch linger against his stubbled jaw.

“Hey Dad,” I whisper, settling beside him on the bed. “I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I just want to say…thank you. Thank you for being the best dad you could be to me, despite all the trouble I’ve caused. I know it couldn’t have been easy to care for a child that wasn’t biologically yours, but I never felt that. I never felt like I didn’t belong. I always felt like yours.

A hard knot forms in my throat, and I take a moment to breathe through it before it invokes a sob. I’ve cried enough today. I don’t want our last goodbye to be filled with more sorrow.

“I didn’t want this for us. If I could, I would protect you from all the evils of this world. But what kind of life would that be? Always running and hiding? You deserve more than that. You deserve another shot at life. At love. A chance to have a real family with children of your own.” My voice breaks on those last words, and a rogue tear escapes.

“Dad, you were so good to me and Mom. Now, I want you to be good to someone else. Someone that will love and care and protect you like you’ve done for us. It’s time for you to be another little girl’s first love. It’s time for you to teach her what she should expect and demand from her future boyfriends. It’s time for you to be an example of the ideal husband and father.”

More tears come, but I don’t wipe them away. I let them fall freely as I say goodbye to man I had the privilege of calling Dad.

“You did good. And for that, I will always be grateful. Please don’t think I’m giving up on you—on us. On our family. Because I’m not. I’m giving you a second chance.” I take his still hand in mine and press it to the space that holds my breaking heart. “Goodbye, Daddy. I’ll always love you. In life and in death.”

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