Duality

[Jay Carpenter]

The jungle was about how he remembered it.

There were nuances, of course. More of those spike-death trees erupted in South America compared to here. The tone of wildlife echoed different pitches: more howler monkey in central America; more bird-like in Mexico. The canopy filtered patches of light, but it also cut any wind. After only a minute or two, Jay was drenched with sweat. Usually he didn’t mind the shirt-sticking manly stickiness when a pretty girl was around, but he would have preferred a more athletic cut of cloth than the cheap cotton glued to his skin.

They had to cut through the undergrowth to make it alongside the dirt path. Twin lines made for tracks, but vines and various other ruts from rainwater said the path hadn’t been cleared in a while. That meant the house wasn’t an active safe house for Amengual in some time, and all the safety precautions had yet to be finished. Hopefully that played to their advantage. Regardless, he would not assume the path want unwatched. It only took one active camera to blow the element of surprise. Best to stay off path at least a little. But it made for some extra work on his part. Couldn’t have a lady getting snagged on vines and bit by scuttling nasties on the way up the hill.

He made use of the power to cut through what his hands couldn’t shove aside. Branches carefully hewn were laid aside quietly. Enormous leaves bigger than their heads could have been shields for how thick and heavy they drooped. Those too were cut down. At one point, he plucked a fuzzy tarantula from his arm and waggled it at Natalie before dropping it into a nearby bush. The entire bush shivered with the heavy movement within, and Jay grinned for the tease. He wasn’t worried about her though. Natalie was tough for an English princess. Africa wasn’t exactly a luxury cruise, but it was different to be in the wild like this.

He pointed upward, “keep an eye above you. Snakes tend to fall once in a while. There will be pythons here, but it’s the little ones that are more worrisome. Shit, there’s even caterpillars that secrete a mucus that will burn your skin like acid if it falls on you. Happened to me in Colombia once. This fat bastard drops from the sky and lands right in front of my feet. Don’t pick them up without gloves. Not even to see someone squirm.”

He stopped to rest for a second. Mostly for Natalie’s sake, because he was clearly in good enough shape to manage the climb without water or proper kit, you know, without a break. A swipe of the hand brushed the sweat from his eyes, scrubbed back through his hair. A waterfall would have been handy about then. Or even a canteen.

He started to lean against a tree only to realize it was swarming with ants and thought better of it. Another gesture showed their path. “Their bite will make you wish for something as gentle as bee stings,” he said, swiping at his shoulders just in case. Turning, he showed Natalie his back, “brush those off would you?” he asked, able to feel a couple of crawling legs but unable to reach the fuckers.

Once cleared, he put his hands on his hips and looked around. The tree in question looked dead, or dying at least. It was probably great fodder for the ants, which was why they were swarming it. A glance at the road and an idea came to him. He motioned for Natalie to stand back. Far back. Ants fell out of trees as bad as snakes, spiders and caterpillars.

The power flared and flamed. Tendrils reached to the tree, wrapping it with ropes stronger than chain that glowed to his eye. Jay groaned not unlike when lifting a heavy weight, then snaps popped on the air. The wood creaked and the earth buckled underfoot. The tree then lifted from its seat, roots mangled and twisted, splaying unnaturally. Gentle. Careful. He wanted to throw it, or drop it, but instead, with a shower of specks of things he didn’t have the ability to really notice at the time, the power laid the tree across the nearby dirt tracks. It rolled into position. Came to a halt. Big enough to block any vehicle from traversing.

Jay exhaled deeply, then dropped the power to rest.

Then the first bite pinched his neck. And his cheek. And his arm. And hands. He smashed, slapped, swiped. Curses strung like pearls. He tugged his shirt off frantically, and red specks crawled over his face.

Heart beating hard, the pinches dug deep, awakening memories better off dormant. “Get them off!” he urged. Seriously considering torching his own skin with power-wrought flame throwers if it helped.

This was why you wear kits in the jungle.

[Natalie Grey]

It was about the most unpleasant experience she could have imagined. The hot jungle pressed in too close, thickening the very air stifling, and its night noises sang eerie and unfamiliar. Natalie pulled the jacket close, glad to have bare skin covered despite the slick of heat that quickly soaked her through. She kept up as best she could. Jay did the hard work of clearing the path anyway, and though she might have at least offered to help, likely she would only have gotten in the way. He seemed to enjoy the chivalry at least, or maybe the keeping busy. It was the worst date in the history of dates, though. Which didn’t really explain the occasional glimmer of smile to her expression, sometimes, when she watched him.

Natalie wasn’t squeamish, but neither did she relish their surroundings. At all. Jay seemed more enamoured of it than she could ever be, or at least all its poisonous, bitey, painful secrets. Her pale gaze passed cursorily over the wide leaves and strange plants, trying not to linger on the inky darkness of shadow. She was not even sure that during the day it would have drawn much wonder from her, unless it was perhaps viewed through the comfort of a wallet screen. Thus the tarantula received a flat look, though given it was probably one of the jungle’s fuzzier denizens it did not make her shudder. Neither did it stop her drawing closer to his teasing grin, though. “Don’t think I won’t pay you back, Jay.” The dare whispered back. The flicker of a smirk followed.

By the time they stopped misery set her expression to blank steel. She’d pulled her hair up into a knot, though it had seared her shoulder to do so. Scant relief it offered but a fleeting comfort quickly swallowed by the heat. She would have liked to have sat down for a moment, but she didn’t actually want to touch anything, particularly following Jay’s useful example. After obligingly swatting off the evidence of his idiocy, she retreated as bid, not especially convinced that messing with the swarming tree further was among his best ideas. But he was the ex-marine.

Despite herself she watched curiously for how little evidence there was to her senses at what he did. Just what she could see with her eyes. Though she barely had time to appreciate the effort before he began to flail violently, and comprehension followed on swift heels.

The note of urgency in his voice tightened her chest, though she didn’t pause to acknowledge it. The power flooded through, and she drew without thinking. Pulled hard on all the surrounding moisture; quickly, and probably a little inelegantly.

The water dumped a drenching blast over his head.

Natalie stepped gingerly through the streaming puddles at his feet. “You’re okay,” she said. She was not wary of his ghosts, but she was mindful of them as she approached. Her own hands swiped at the tenacious few ants still clinging to him, their ugly red bodies a little too distinct to her power-sharpened eyes. At least it was a distraction from all that naked skin, if not the feel of it beneath her palms. “Are we checking under here too?” Her thumb swiped the waistband at his hip. Her eyes flashed up under her lashes, joined by a small smirk. She was probably joking. Difficult to tell with her sometimes. But she did twist then to check his back.

“They aren’t poisonous or anything?” He probably would have said before, if they were. Concern pinched for what might linger of the pain, but there was nothing she could do about that. “I’d offer to heal you, if I could. And you probably don’t need my help to get dry.”

[Jay Carpenter]

Next thing he knew, a shower of rain dumped out over his head. With the drenching, the bites stopped. A double tip-toe and he danced quickly out of the resulting puddle else the little bitches snuck back up for second helping. Not that he blamed them. But no chance. 

Surprisingly. Even for himself. The pinches of the bites did not spark a downward spiral. Yet the crash of plates at the diner made him lose his mind. Literally. Well. Since the shit stayed on the fan, he just exhaled with relief and let Natalie run her hands over him. That was definitely preferable.

Water dripped from his jaw. Actually, as he smiled, he licked his lips not realizing how thirsty he was until that moment. A swipe through his hair pushed it away, the surge of adrenaline going with it. Then he shivered. He didn’t remember the jungle being cold. Probably from the sneak of her fingers below the belt, and with the motion, warmth replaced the chill. Any other time. Damn. ”You check any time you want.” He could kill Amengual tomorrow. Not a problem.

But Natalie rounded and swiped at his back. He twisted, glad for the shadows of the night to obscure the burn scars from Placaso’s electricity. Getting dry was far from his priorities at the moment. “Save the healing for after. Not that I intend on needing it, but you never know.”

Like hell he was going to go back into the nest of ants to find his shirt, so he was going to have to live without it. Probably going to get eaten by mosquitos the rest of the way, but shit, might as well go full Rambo, rippling pecs and guns blazing.

As they restarted the climb, he occasionally swat at his neck. Sweat eventually replaced the water. And he was deep in the zone when the tone of the jungle changed. Frog song fell and the chirp of birds lifted. Tree critters began to stir. Dawn was on the way, and the perfect time for stealth was passing.

The climb steepened to cliffs. Overhead thrust the platforms holding back the pool deck. Obscured by jungle growth, Jay squat and tried to study what could be seen by the house lighting. A grappling rope would have been handy about then, scaling the concrete supports from the steepest side. But if he was decked out in $70,000 worth of gear and kit, where was the challenge? They were going to storm a drug lord’s house without a fucking shirt and nothing but their hands.

After thinking through the options, he turned to Natalie. ”We’re going to hug the foundations, crawl under the deck pilings, keep the power handy in case you need to incinerate a pit of nasties for me. If I’m going to lose my pants, that isn’t the way I want to do it.” He smirked, scrubbing his chin thoughtfully, back to calculating.

“The other side of the pool deck houses the access to all the plumbing. That means there will be an access point. I’m guessing it’s about 2 to 3 meters. I think I can scale it. Once up, I’ll reach over and pull you up.”

A quick glance at the sky, an exhale, and with that, his expression dramatically changed. The mission begun. The fuckers inside didn't have a chance.
They had to move quickly, quietly, and low.

[Natalie Grey]

Not much could incite her to the temptation given their current surroundings, let alone considering their destination. Except maybe the way he licked the water from his lips, completely oblivious to the flame it kindled in her. The memory of the swarming ants was not so far removed, and the jungle’s night noises offered no sanctuary. Still, the reckless urge flared for longer than it probably ought, and was entertained with more seriousness than was probably sane.

The trek continued, until the property they’d viewed on the surveillance screens was finally within reach. She absorbed Jay’s instructions without expression, though the thought of crawling under the decking and incinerating nasties did not fill her with enthusiasm. It was the climb from the access point that concerned her though.

“No,” she agreed. “Definitely not the way you should lose them.” A finger tugged coy at a belt loop, and she moved on fearless to the next task. Inside her thoughts lingered for a moment on what waited after, the knot in her stomach still tight and tangled. The power smoothed some of her trepidation, and the armour of certainty might make it true. Though truthfully, she imagined this would be the easy bit.

Darkness swallowed them beneath the concrete pilings. For a moment the scuttling sense of it reminded her with some surprised alarm of the tunnels beneath Moscow, and the sheen of her skin burned cold. She forced steady breaths, and the feeling passed by the time her eyes adjusted. The flicker of something against her fingers yanked her hand back, though she lost whatever it had been soon after, and though he warned her to watch for snakes and spiders she mostly concentrated only on where she was putting her hands. Some relief met their eventual approach to the service hatch, at least for a moment. Heat drenched her almost nauseous, and as her eyes absorbed the way the innards of the plumbing stretched up she realised there was no way she was going to be able to climb that.

Pale eyes found Jay, fully expecting to discover him grinning for the challenge. A brow rose, almost a dare, though she didn’t doubt him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been watching him shirtless halfway through the jungle, nor was she ignorant of exactly how that body felt. It was her own ascent she doubted, though she might have at least attempted it alone on principle of pride had it not meant testing her shoulder.

She watched him climb, not even sure how he found those handholds, and waited for him to reach down. He made it seem effortless. The burn flared hot when the jacket scraped against it, but if it pinched pain into her expression there was little other sign of it, though its echoes shivered persistently through her for a while after. Jay would be used to the stillness of her expression though. Despite herself she smirked when she was finally up, rolling an unshy gaze over him before her attention adjusted to their new surroundings.

[Jay Carpenter]

His heart flicked rapid, but the pace was locked into control of one accustomed to the tight regulation. In MARSOC training, it was said that adrenaline and all the effects on the heart made them better soldiers. It pumped the blood to muscles poised to act and had the ability to sharpen eyesight. Too much and the detriment overruled the benefits. Panicking in close quarters or losing way in the dark waters killed men as much as bullets and machetes.

With that close grip on himself, the curl of his bicep lifted Natalie a little more smoothly than it otherwise would fatigued. Once up, he picked a cobweb from her hair (along with an extra long-legged hitchhiker that he didn’t inform her about), and brushed the dirt from her clothes. The back and arms. A little extra generously around the bust. One last smack at the shoulder elicited a wince that he blinked with surprise. “Sorry,” he said, assuming it was from too heavy a hand. There wasn’t time to dress her wounds (if you catch the drift) as he turned to survey their new platform.

The pool was glowing blue in the dusky sky. Waterfalls and jets obscured the sounds they made. Hills lumped like shadows beyond the infinity edge, and he was right, the view was probably amazing. But once again, he was privy to only its nightscape. ”Nice. Maybe I should think about getting in the biz.” He smirked and waved her to follow.

He stayed low. His footfalls were swift and quiet. The power was raging by then, coursing his veins with heightened eyesight better than the best landwarriors. As they approached a wall of glass, the power was sending out ropes of fire and spirit, twisting them into a braid not unlike electrical wires. They delved into the frames of the glass, seeking that familiar spark of like-kind in order to burn out the security system.

After a moment’s work, he slid open the panel, which opened on silent tracking with not but a gentle push. This was the moment he lived for. The infiltration took the highest amount of skill, focus, and bravery. Not knowing what waited within, he peered around the edge, letting the power help him scan the interior.

The furniture was dark. None waited inside. His breath caught in his throat as he crossed the threshold, signaling to Natalie to wait where she was until he was certain the room was clear.

None showed themselves. He looked back at Natalie, question written all over his face. He was a little surprised to find the compound so.. easy to penetrate. Hadn’t the place been swarming with security? Where were the dogs? Guns? Shit, even motion light would have been better than nothing. He whispered. ”Maybe Amengual’s gone.”

Room by room, he moved as quietly and efficiently as the first entrance. He paused at each threshold, checked and cleared the next before waving Natalie to follow. With each undisturbed section, his worry grew. Not that he lost his mark, but that the mark knew exactly where they were.

Finally, he had an opportunity to check the front entrance. Peering ever so carefully through a window, confirmation did not ease his conscience. He whispered again, this time channeling the flows into a cone of sorts to keep the noise from drifting anywhere other than Natalie’s ears. ”The gate house is still lit. I see two men stationed near the drive. There are tie-outs for dogs, although I see none. Wait. There’s movement,” he blinked.

A man exited the gate house, strolled up the drive but turned to go in another entrance on the opposite side of the mansion. He was dark-haired, but older. Was that the Scion Marveet that Natalie described? He gestured that she look, quickly, before he disappeared.

A bad idea tickled the back of his neck, but they had to keep searching. There were two additional levels to the house: one up and one down. If Jay had a master bedroom there, he’d want as good a view as the pool deck. He turned to go toward the stairs when the lights flicked on.

He reacted almost instantly.

He pushed himself around Natalie, delving into a position in the room that offered a small measure of protective support while also not cornering them into a bad place. The power wove into action as he moved. At his right, a white-blue orb of light formed into existence, hovering like a grenade he was ready to toss. At his left, a silver spike about a foot in length was ready to skewer any who walked in.

Who entered was not who he expected.

It was a woman. Her hair was down, curling past her shoulders in silken sheets. She wore a gauzy robe of sorts that did nothing to obscure a revealing bikini. Her skin was cinnamon, her eyes sultry. Worse of all. Jay recognized her.

She seemed oblivious for a moment until realizing the glass panels to the pool that was obviously her destination were open. When she beheld intruders across the room, she did not startle or gasp. She merely blinked, looking them over.

To Jay’s utter disbelief, she tapped elaborately lacquered fingers to her throat, and basically undressed him with her eyes. “Mírate,” she said with daring mirth.

The flare of Jay’s nostrils told him he drank deeply on the power as much as the air, frantically trying to decide what to do about Amengual’s wife. Then, before he could act, she began to approach, looking him over like she studied a wild animal found on the side of the road. She was cautious, but curious. The purse of her lips was subtle, but as she spoke English, she made certain anyone who beheld her recognized her as the queen in her kingdom. “Zacarías said you would come. He did not say how handsome you are in person. What happened to your skin mi cebrita?”

Jay lifted a hand, halting her. “Stop where you are, Yasmine. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m only here for one person,” he said. Did she know that her daughter was dead because of him? His mouth was dry.

She blinked innocently as her approach halted. She wasn’t screaming for help. Maybe she wanted her husband dead as the rest of them? Surely nobody could love Zacarias?
“Who is your pretty friend?” she asked, head tilted. “Zacarías didn’t say you’d bring a girl.”

Jay swallowed, “I’m obviously not going to answer that. Let’s just talk about me and your husband. Where is he?”

Yasmine tipped her shoulder, shrugging.

As she brushed her hand through her hair, the flicker of a something in her hand caught his eye. Which was when he realized what Yasmine was doing down here at all.

She’s a distraction. Motion on the pool deck caught his eye. Black moved quick in the shadows. The lights of the room had blinded their vision but for the enhancement of the power. He had just a heartbeat to react.

Suddenly, guns popped rapid sprays. The power unraveled from the previous weapons, netting itself into a wall behind which he ducked, yanking Natalie with him. The wall grew and bubbled into a dome, but every pop of casing to hit the shield shook as though it gonged his very soul. The sound of it echoed explosions in their ears, but all his strength poured into the defense. None was left to soften the painful blows.

These things happened fast. In seconds the room was flooded with all the security that he anticipated the entire time. Yasmine was out of sight next he looked, but like hell was Jay going to cower with his arms over his head in fear. He was the goddamn fucking soldier of Dominion there. This was exactly what he wanted.

He stood to his feet, slowly uncurling, drawing in the power until he thought his skin would rip apart at the black seams.

Fire and light swirled around him, coming together to a pulsing orb, one above each hand. The gunmen realized the dome deflected their work and rushed, knives and bayonets at the ready, flashing in deadly, trained arcs. They wore body armor where Jay was bare-chested, but it would not save them. The dome dropped just as five of them hurled themselves forward, but the light imploded from his hands. Everyone was thrown to their backs and Jay unleashed a swarm of ropes, whipping and snapping to disarm each. There was nothing but the enemy to be cut down. A dance of death.

Five bodies lay at his feet when he was unleashed into the next room. He had to get to Amengual before he fled!

Such was his shock when Amengual suddenly appeared before them, and he wasn’t alone. A cowering figure huddled in front of him. A knife was poised at her throat. The trickle of blood ran down her wrinkled neck from the pressure. Another gunman held a gun to the head of his captive.

It took Jay a few seconds to realize what he saw. Then it all swirled into one sick understanding of context.

“Mom?” he felt like he was stabbed in the gut. Her chin quivered and she was practically shaking from fear. Her hair was matted and dirty. Her clothes disheveled. His dad was positioned alongside, a gun at his temple, in no better shape.

Jay’s hatred could delve no hotter than in that moment, but recognition took him too long. A gunman came from behind and a flare of heat and searing pain exploded in his side. He stumbled to a knee, the scream of pain genuine. Steel flashed in the strike of an arm. His mother screamed in horror. His hands came away bloodied as it poured from his side. Despite the moment of panic, the part of his mind trained on survival realized the stab was opposite the liver and too gutsy to hit the spleen. He wasn’t going to die in the next few minutes, so long as he kept his guts on the inside where they belonged.

Amengual stepped forward, smiling triumphantly. He stood over Jay just out of reach. Something dangled from his hand. Like a cord. “That’s right,” he whispered loud enough for Jay to hear. “Cocky son of a bitch. I am going to rip out your heart and feed it to her.”

Jay was shaking with a different kind of adrenaline as he clawed his mind toward the power. Before he could so much as channel a gust of wind, Amengual snatched one of the heavy guns from his men, lifted it in one hand and fired on a turn. The punch of it shoved Jay’s dad from his knees. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Amengual stepped carefully over the body, avoiding the mess from touching his slippers. “Goddamn! Finally. He was fucking pissing me off.  Now, it’s your turn mamacita,” he pat Jay’s mom on the top of her head then wiped his fingers on his shirt in disdain.

Zacarías summoned a new combatant to the arena with the call of one name. Despite the fact he’d been stabbed. His dad was dead. His mother was probably going to die in the next few minutes. And Natalie was only here because of him. It was a name that sent a chill through Jay’s heart.

Placaso entered. Even the gunmen watched him warily. But it wasn’t to Jay he approached, although when his gaze flickered toward the marine, Jay scrambled backward despite the fact he may faint with the motion. Placaso laughed and pulled up the sleeve of his arm, showing his mother the spot where matching on Jay was only mangled flesh. Numerous other tattoos filled his skin, but it was one in particular that he tapped. Amengual laughed defiantly. Jay couldn’t watch. He had to get away. Run. Bad idea. This was a bad idea.  

When Placaso grabbed Jay’s mother by the elbow and dragged her away, he was powerless to stop it. All he heard were the cries of his own name. Pleading for help. He couldn't listen. 

Where was Natalie? He had to find her. He had to get away. They had to leave. Now.

[Natalie Grey]

Natalie accepted his attentions with some small amusement flared deep into her deadpan expression, though his last swipe at the dust caught an unfortunate angle. She winced, jaw gritting hard to bite back the slip. The pain blanched, though she said nothing. Instead she only turned her head to cast a glance over the darkened view of the landscape below. The pool glowed softly, and for the first time she considered its remote beauty. Though it was easier to see it now they were so far removed from the hot press of the jungle.

The house was dark, which might have been normal for a household in the small hours before dawn, but not one fled into hiding following the spectacle of the facility. Where was the security? Natalie paused when bid, following the lead Jay gave, though discomfort was prickling in her stomach and flooding quickly outward. She had no reassurance to offer the question of his look, but precious little surprise either. Her own warnings rang in her ears, creeping up her heartbeat, though she tried to breathe calm. Forced it with an iron will.

This wasn’t right. 

She could feel the tension in Jay too, but they had no recourse now they were here; the only option left to press forward. The power coiled beneath her skin like warm light, its enhancements a boon and curse both for the over-sensitive way it made her own pulse thrum in her ears yet at least made her feel prepared. When summoned she peered out the window, catching the back of Scion’s head; enough for recognition and a nod. Inwardly she considered the hour. Considered why Scion would be at the gate house of a property not his own. But while she desperately fumbled at the facts there was precious little time to align the pieces. Her lips parted to voice a suspicion when the light flicked on, and Jay snapped to a defence. 

The woman gave no sign of surprise at their presence, and ice slithered across Natalie’s skin while they bandied words. By her nonchalance alone they were clearly expected, and she wasn’t sure why Jay wasted the time on the distraction. Her pale eyes scanned the shadows, her fingers about to press a soft warning into his side when he suddenly pressed her down under a spray of gunfire.

The bullets ricocheted off nothing, exploding deafening. Her chest heaved, fear contained behind fortress walls and trust in a power she could not see. Jay unfurled to terrifying control; fire swirling, light sparking, men flung like toys and cut down before he launched himself on. Heart slamming behind her ribs, Natalie waded past the strewn bodies to follow his path into the room beyond.

And caught herself in the doorway when she perceived what was within. 

Her heart sank with a suspicion she had not let herself actualise for its horror; the shuffling figures swatted through on the security footage, identities hidden. The bars slammed down on her expression; everything inside flattening hard on the rear of sickened emotion, and fighting to assert control in its place. Yet it all unravelled so quickly. Jay stumbled before she could react, blood gushing from his side like his insides ripped free. The scream yanked a tether on her soul that pulled her through the threshold, only to flinch at the shot. Disbelief was a glaze on her eyes as Jay’s father crumpled, the brutality striking her motionless.

In some state of detached shock, she realised then that Amengual paid her no attention, and she knew from his wife's flippant comment that she was not expected here. Nor did he know what she was. The dispassionate tones of the story he had told during their phone conversation haunted, a reminder that he might not discount her as negligible for long. It wasn’t like she’d denied the attachment. It wasn’t like he was wrong.

She forced herself to stay rooted. Forced her eyes away from Jay. The power flared hot in her, incandescent. Gunmen still surrounded; she wasn’t unseen. But Amengual still hadn’t looked at her, the sneer of his focus on Jay. She could end this. Only then he summoned someone else, and her attention sharpened instead on the name that followed. It seared her memory from the moment Jay had spoken it back at the motel room. 

Remaining control fled under the volatile spike of emotion pulled from somewhere primal. Jay’s mother was keening as Placaso yanked her back, yet Jay crumbled as badly as he had on the floor after the diner, slick with his own blood. The power contorted to the shape of old memory, burning her stomach with nausea as the violent threads rushed out. Placaso’s arm yanked back, and Jay’s mother’s knees buckled. She sank, sobbing, crawling to her son. Blood flashed a wide arc behind her. Bones snapped.

Then Amengual’s foot connected a sickening crunch to Jay’s face, and the weave gutted loose. For a moment the power slipped entirely as recklessness closed the rest of the distance, skidding to her knees where he was still fighting to push to his feet, his eyes wild. She felt the heat of the blood seeping into her jeans. Her hands pressed over his against the gaping wound, and her eyes widened to a realisation she could not allow herself to think to conclusion. The power grasped and slipped until it finally bloomed. Her world shrank to the feel of his pulse under her hands, gushing out. It constricted her chest how little she could help. Yet neither of them were going to survive while Amengual lived, and their protection rested on her shoulders. Her gaze rose, the power burning under her nebulous control, and her teeth grit at the sense of her own panic.

And realised the sense of the room had shifted. Her expression stilled as the search of her gaze found a familiar face. Someone else hovered shrouded behind his shoulder, but it was the severe features of Scion Marveet her pale eyes latched on to.

[Jay Carpenter]

I failed.

A thought amid the cacophony of panic. A horrifying moment of lucidity. Then movement, the gauzy white of Zacarías’ robe. The impact thud his brain to the back of his skull. Lights flashed blurry. He heard it more than felt anything. Stunned. He tried to hold his weight up, but his neck rolled around too heavy. The floor was upside down. Hands pressed over his. The dangle of blonde hair swayed like an anchor in the storm. He couldn’t believe he failed.

His name echoed haunts. His mother’s voice that was surely hallucination. Except she was above his face, cradling his in her hands. The blurred outline wavered, and in one swift, jarring sweep the world collapsed back to reality. Jay’s eyes sharpened, face smeared red with the cut of Amengual’s boot. A defiant heave and frantic clutching of his hand to his side, fingers squishing into the rent flesh, he pawed at Natalie’s jacket until a pistol was produced from an inner pocket. When he aimed the weapon, his arm was surprisingly steady.

Problem was, his legs didn’t behave. A stumble. Natalie was too small to hold his weight. Across the room, Placaso lay in a twisted heap of limbs and blood. A guttural howl boomed from his chest, daring his enemy forward. ”Amengual!”

It fired, but the grip slipped in his bloody hand. Amengual’s gaze flared wide as he attempted to duck. The shot punched the wall where the drug lord previously stood. Jay’s knees buckled gave as he attempted to follow, and he sank to the floor.

Scion Marveet

Scion’s attention drank in the circumstances of the room, but by the tilt of his jaw, he was prepared to encounter bloody fighting. A wave of the hand and the lead sergeant in charge of Amengual’s mercenaries punched a command in Spanish. The remaining men acknowledged the order, hurrying out the front door. Amengual yelled furiously, having narrowly escaped death by a half-dead man. When he realized his mercs were obeying Scion rather than him, he snarled, grabbed the rifle from the floor, fired aimlessly behind him and fled.

Scion ducked the random gunfire without much more than a flinch. The sergeant ran to the exit Amengual plunged into in case he thought to return on a surprise. Meanwhile, Scion hurried to Natalie and Jay, the prize he had to deliver back to Ascendancy.

Despite the calamity in which they stewed, he spoke, sarcasm dripping. “Call it a philanthropic mission,” but soon reverted to serious focus as someone rounded the Russian. Scion stepped aside.

When Jay slumped, it was his mother who caught him. Kind of. She was whispering hope into his ear, looking aside as she did. Telling him who had come. That things were going to be alright now. That they were going to be okay. A rifle punched the air, and on instinct, Jay pulled his mom to his side just as she pushed at him. Then she stopped talking. Didn’t even scream, and something dripped into Jay’s eyes from his hairline.

When he looked up, he found a skull blown open, and no amount of shock held back the tears streaming from his eyes. They sank together in dead weight. I failed. I failed. I failed.

Through it all, a presence descended. He didn’t notice it at first, but the dread familiarity snagged barbs in his brain. When he looked up, a face hovered close, and recognition swarmed an angel he refused. He shook his head. ”No! No! Her, her! He demanded, attempting to punch sense into the situation.

Then the light flushed searing heat through his bones, knitting sweet flesh and washing away everything that hurt – except the one thing that hurt the most.

He didn’t deserve to live. Everyone. Literally everyone was dead because of him. Why was he the only one saved? Because he was a fucking channeler. Somehow more fucking valuable? He was nothing but suffering.

Jay’s struggle was enormous, and the moment he was healthy, the soldier of Dominion almost shoved him away if not for the awkward angle between them. Jensen gave Jay his space, turning next to Natalie. He didn’t ask permission as he ignored Jay’s denial. He could save whom he could save, and none more. His eyes whispered let me as he tried to cup her cheeks. Finally, he moved toward the woman who believed in him when none others did. He couldn’t look at what remained of her other than attempt to help position her body in a more respectful rest.

Jay drew into himself, and Jensen knelt in front of him, hand on the man’s shoulder. Jensen said something he never thought he’d hear himself say.
“Go kill Zacarías Amengual.”
Jay looked up, blood smeared across his face, the depravity of a wild animal awakened within.

As soon as Jensen said it, Jay realized the position he was in. The power came hurling back in a torrent of storm, it practically crackled electricity around his body. He turned away from them all. His mother and father. Jensen. Scion. Placaso. Even Natalie. He threw two discarded rifles over his shoulders, and sprinted into the darkness unleashed. Never looking back. 

Outside, the power swarmed the noises of the jungle loud in his ears, but in the distance following a dirt path downhill, the quick pace of footfalls pounded a druglord who thought he was about to escape.

[Natalie Grey]

Sarcasm dripped from above like honeyed poison. I am more philanthropic than one might guess by looking at me, Scion had said before. The Russian would spare no love for what he had been sent to collect, and she didn’t imagine herself to be anything more than a passing irritant, or at most a bargaining chip to be levelled against her grandfather. She didn’t want to know if her family was involved in any of this. She wouldn’t ask. Scion Marveet clawed even higher from his humble origins now. His cragged expression was dispassionate for the field of dirty work he tilled, but like the self-made man he was, sometimes power required those kinds of sacrifices. Her tired mind fit the pieces together, but she looked away from the picture. “You should have come sooner,” she said. She’d been ignorant of the gameboard, even spying him at the gatehouse. Yet he’d had Amengual’s men in his pocket. He’d acted too slow.

Then Jensen was there. The surprise didn’t register amidst the numbness, and her face reared back from his hand and his kindness both, though there was nowhere to go. She didn’t want her body swept clean of its pain; she didn’t want to acknowledge what would be left in that hollow place, or how she might try to fill it without the anchor of her injuries, yet the powerful wave of his gift parted through her denial. Her jaw tightened into a grimace for that tainted peace. Her eyes burned hot. She didn’t look away from the compassion of his expression, though it shredded up what remained of her beleaguered soul. Didn’t he realise how little it left her with? He didn’t offer her solace, he knocked free a crutch.

It left her floundering.

Sick swirls of blood and Jay’s mum’s voice permeated the dingy halls of her mind. Jay’s tears sliced her through. When he sprung like a wild predator to the hunt, she did not follow, though she felt a pull alongside him like even then she might be compelled to the dark plunge of his path. But it wasn’t sheltering Jay’s soul needed now, and she did not want to see what he did.

The only thing she checked was Placaso’s corpse, mangled and still. Memories of hospital beeps and the recoil of Aaron’s expression strung in the back of her mind like bloody pearls, the catalyst that sent her running to Africa. Waves of nausea threatened for the evidence of her own capabilities. She’d killed a man on purpose. Yet she did not look away. The arm was outstretched, a familiar tattoo sewn amongst the others like a sick canvas. She’d seen the warped patches of flesh on Jay amidst the webbed black scars, but had never contemplated the depravity of something like this.

She toed the cold flesh, to make sure he was dead. And felt no regret.

When next her gaze swept, it pushed over everything she couldn’t bear to see. It didn’t matter why Scion was here anymore. None of it did. Petty political struggles meant nothing to her if she was not navigating them to protect those she loved, and she did not care for the war waged over control of a new Dominance. She knew enough. Scion clearly cruised those stormy seas like an apex predator, and she had no doubt that he would see Jay back into Custody control where she had refused. But first he would use the weapon to clear his path to other prizes. By the time dawn broke, there would be one less contender for the crown.

“You didn’t leave him anything to come back for.” Her gaze was ghostly pale. The words were cold. Because she knew that was not the whole truth; that the painful losses her accusation levelled at Scion’s feet were the things that made Jay the soul she tucked closest to her own; the things that made him human; the things that tugged him back from the cliff edge. Because duty would bring Jay back; she knew that. Duty, and nothing else.

There was a tide banked behind her eyes that she didn’t care for Scion to see, and she turned away after that. Neither did she seek Jensen. The sweetness of the man’s nature was likely to shatter her own into the sorts of tiny pieces that could not be remade.

Natalie did not pause to acknowledge the cooling bodies in the adjacent room as she left. Amengual probably had a packed cellar, but though the siren call curled promising tendrils through her raw thoughts, she did not afford herself the weakness of oblivion. Or the sanctuary. The pool doors were still flung open and she followed the path back outside, into the shadows and stifling air. She finally removed the jacket, and dumped it on the decking. The fabric pulled strangely where it had cloyed to the dampness of the now healed wound, but did not hurt. Natalie pulled her hair free like it might shield the face she pressed for a moment into the darkness of her hands. Her jaw flexed and her vision blurred, though she did not let the tears fall. All she could smell was Jay’s blood as she sat at the pool’s edge to wait. Its soft light washed her pale skin. Over the hilly landscape beyond, puncturing the heavy shadows of the jungle below, the first fingers of dawn spread bloody on the horizon.

[Jensen James]

Jensen’s heart was broken. As he surveyed a field of death, the enormous swell of pain threatened to prick the delicate bubble built around his soul. The Gift fluxed, fueling that protective-shell, as he walked among the dead. As a preacher he presided over funerals for congregants that passed. They were always tragic, especially for those who outlived loved ones. However, the sting of death was blunted by the belief of afterlife. He did not claim to guess the destination of the souls of men pledged to violence in exchange for a paycheck, but he gave each the same respect bestowed upon the Carpenters.

The Gift helped nudge and rearrange the bodies to their backs, hands folded on their stomach as he had seen so many positioned in their caskets before. Finally, he brought the Carpenters, husband and wife, to lay alongside each other. Flimsy curtains were torn and overlaid their outline so Jay would not see the gory outcome of his parents upon his return.  In the distance, he could sense the fiery play of the Gift. Jay lived still, and Jensen did not want to imagine Amengual’s fate as the Dominion hunted him down.

When the work was done, Jensen searched for Natalie, finding her lingering poolside. He didn’t intend to interrupt, nor did he delude himself into thinking he may provide a modicum of comfort. Her accusations of Scion Marveet, whom Jensen only met shortly before. The rushed explanation of what to expect curdled Jensen’s soul, but he could only save whom he could save, as Scion explained, and the limitation was accepted.

He sat next to Natalie, dragging his fingers gently along the surface of the water. Ripples drifted outward, coming to stillness by the time the infinity edge poured into the beyond. Dawn made tired light of his eyes as if Jensen hadn’t slept in days, inner turmoil stretching him to the brink.

“I don’t pretend to have anything to say,” was all he uttered as he searched the side of her face. Instead, he held out the palm of his hand, offering a grip upon which to hold to the cliff edge from which she metaphorically dangled.

[Natalie Grey]

She didn’t desire the company. Natalie’s exterior was toughened steel, but it felt a brittle shell now, and kindness might flake that armour like old tarnish. She did not know what would be left underneath. She didn’t want to know. 

At least it wasn’t Scion though. Or Yasmine, who she presumed must still be around somewhere, considering it was her estate.

As Jensen sat down, Natalie’s gaze didn’t break from the view, of which she saw precisely nothing. Grief rolled like the threat of a storm, an actual ache in her chest like the feeling might not stay contained no matter how hard she repressed it. Her eyes burned on peeks and waves. 

“It isn’t me who needs saving, Jensen,” she said quietly.

It felt churlish to rebuff the comfort so earnestly meant, and she did not wish to wound him. She wondered if he understood why she couldn’t take that hand. If he had any notion of how badly her walls were eroding, and how badly she needed them not to. Holding on to someone now would only rip the vulnerability wider, and that never ended well for her. But neither did she walk away. It was as close to solidarity as she could offer him.

“This will break him,” she added eventually. Though she realised it was no coincidence Jensen was here, the words weren’t spoken as an accusation. Her own mistakes littered the path behind as much as anyone else’s, and blame was a comfortless thing. Speaking her thoughts aloud carved a hollow from her chest, and left something bloody and raw in its place. It was pain she shared, for how deeply it grieved her, but not only. She realised she was afraid too, then. That he was gone. Not dead; she’d seen Jay’s expression before he turned away, and she knew Zacarías Amengual stood no chance. But that she’d lost him.

The squeeze in her chest was unbearable. Her gaze finally pulled away, seeking an anchor somewhere else. In her lap, the nails of one hand dug subconsciously into her palm. Jensen looked tired; soul-weary and heartsore, and she didn’t know where he found the reserves to care at all, let alone offer himself out as a source of strength. Her pale eyes were unblinking, despite the telling glaze. Aware she looked little better herself. She tread in new waters, aware they would be no easier. “Did she at least have a funeral?”