Chapter Twenty-Seven
Journal Entry:
This weekend was so incredible. I loved every minute spent with Portia, her family, and the coven. Never has a place felt so much like home. I'm so thankful things are finally coming together. It's strange to allow myself to have hope again—the feeling is so foreign to me that sometimes I feel like I'm doing something wrong. Portia says I'm retraining the way I think, and learning to be more positive. She believes that, just like magic, good energy attracts more good energy. I hope she's right, because I find myself wanting to believe. Time has been on my side so far. Hopefully, it will stay that way.
***
My head jerked up, the explosion rattling my desk. Through our mental connection, I felt Portia's body slam against the wall, and I thought my heart was going to explode with terror.
Ear splitting screams immediately filled the air as students panicked, springing to run in mass hysteria from the classroom, congesting together as they fought to push their way through the doorway, hastily trying to get out.
Clawing my way through, I pushed and shoved at the people in front of me, finally gaining access to the chaos-filled hallway. There was a horrible groaning sound, and I held my breath in horror, as I recognized the signs of the ceiling structure failing and collapsing somewhere in the building.
"Portia!" I yelled both mentally and out loud, my heart pounding erratically. "Hang on! I'm coming!"
Running through the hordes of terrified, screaming students who were streaming toward me, I rammed against those who ran into me or tried to turn me in the other direction, knocking them out of the way, much as a football player would to his opponents on the field. Ceiling tiles fell throughout the hallway, and I raised my arms protectively above my head as I hurried along, attempting to dodge the debris.
Portia's scream loudly tore through my mind, as a feeling excruciating pain rip through her body as well.
"Oh Portia! Don't move! I'm almost there!" I called frantically, a sickening wave rushing through me because I instinctively knew she was injured badly. I could feel it.
Rounding the corner, I lifted my head to survey the damage and stopped dead at the sight in front of me. Suddenly it was as if everything was moving in slow motion. Students ran unseeing around me, as dust particles floated through the air in a halo-like effect around ... my mother.
Shock held me, and I was frozen as I stared at the face I hadn't seen in years, trying to figure out how she could possibly be here and how she fit into this scenario.
She smiled at me and I thought I saw her eyes flash a bright red color.
"No!" I said, taking a slight step backward, dread flooding my system. It couldn't have been her all this time. Not my mom. She would never do anything to hurt me. But as I watched, a full demon mask slip briefly across her features, before flickering back to normal. "No!" I shouted louder, taking a step toward her this time, raising my hand to fight.
Immediately, something sharp stabbed me in the neck and instantly my world went black.
---
Pounding, pounding, pounding, echoed in my ears and I groaned, wishing someone would stop the incessant sound. Slowly, I realized it was the beating of my own pulse inside my head. My tongue felt swollen and fuzzy, and my mouth was dry, as I attempted to swallow. I was so thirsty.
Memories of the explosion infiltrated my mind, explaining the ache in my system. Portia and I had been separated—she gravely injured—and I had no idea if she was even alive.
Dread filled me and I tried not to panic. If she was hurt badly, they would have taken her to Flagstaff Medical Center. The distance would cause the pain, and we'd never tried to communicate over that many miles.
Feeling the shackles that bound my wrists and ankles, I knew I was in trouble. I made the decision then and there to keep the mental link between the two us firmly closed. I was certain horrible things lay ahead of me, and I didn't want Portia—if she was all right—to be subject to any of that. Plus, until I knew more, I didn't want to do any magic that might draw attention to her.
Cracking my eyes open, dim red light greeted me. The walls and floor around me were bare and appeared to be made of concrete. My shirt was missing—not a good sign—as well as my shoes and socks, and I was bound to a sturdy chair made of thick, strong metal. It only took a moment for me to realize the large manacles were heavily reinforced by magic.
Lifting my head, I stared at the bare red light bulb hanging from a string in the ceiling above me.
Jerking against my restraints, I tested their strength. They held firm. My next thought was trying to heat the metal of the chair, but my hands extended past the ends of the arms and I couldn't grip the surface. I was beginning to think this chair had been specially crafted just to hold me. Further examination revealed that it was bolted to the floor as well.
Sighing heavily, I realized I was in a whole lot of trouble. Snorting in derision, I remembered my journal entry from this morning. So much for smooth sailing—it appeared my capture was being planned for a while. I wanted to beat my head against the wall for letting my guard down and becoming so relaxed in my environment. Now the person I loved most was in danger and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
There was no doubt in my mind about what was planned for me either. I was about to meet the fate I'd been constantly running from. They were going to convert me and everything about my life would change with that conversion.
If escape wasn't an option, I wondered if death was? Could I destroy myself to protect the ones I loved before I was turned into some heinous monster that would hunt with the intent to kill them?
In spite of all the sorrow I'd dealt with in my life, I'd never once considered suicide as a viable option before. But now, presented with what I was about to become, it suddenly seemed like the better choice. There was only one problem—I had no idea how I could do it.
The creaking sound of wooden stairs alerted me to the arrival of someone before the door swung open on the squeaky hinges. My muscles stiffened in reaction, waiting.
My mom stepped into the dimly lit space, staring at me curiously.
"Why?" I whispered, the mixed emotions of both love and hatred tumbling inside me at the sight of her. "Why!" I raged loudly, my voice ringing off the concrete walls.
She shrugged, closing the door behind her, before facing me again. "Because I can."
"Do you have any idea what you've put me through?" I asked, blinking back the moisture in my eyes as I fought to remain strong. She didn't deserve to see me cry. "All this time I've been frantic with worry, hoping you were all right, never knowing what happened to you."
"And now you know," she answered with a smile as she gestured over herself.
I needed to figure out a way to reach her. If I could reactivate the love she felt for me somehow, maybe I could talk her into setting me free. It was a long shot, but my only hope at this point.
"How long have I been here?" I asked, trying to gather as much information as possible.
"We dosed you pretty hard, I'm afraid. I needed to make sure you wouldn't wake up early. You've been out of it for a couple days." She slid down the wall, nonchalantly resting her hands on her knees as if she were settling in for a comfy chat. This was good. If she was talking she wasn't acting, and that would give me more time to try and develop a plan.
"Who is "we" exactly?" I asked the next obvious question, wondering if my dad was here for our little family reunion.
"Myself, and a couple of demons from the coven—oh, and your dear friend, Shelly." She smiled, her eyes glinting red.
"Shelly's involved in all this?" I was floored. "What have you done to her?"
She laughed. "Nothing that will permanently harm her—only a small enchantment spell to get her to help us out."
That explained the strangeness I'd sensed around her, and her extreme change of behavior.
"Don't hurt her," I pleaded. "She's got nothing to do with any of this. Release her from the spell and let her go."
"Hmm, I'm not sure I can do that. She's done an awful lot. You probably wouldn't care for her much anymore if you knew."
"Like what?" I probed, trying to get the pieces of the puzzled to fall together.
"Like blowing up your pretty girlfriend's classroom for us. She's been quite the asset."
"Where's Portia?" I questioned, not quite able to keep the tremor from my voice.
"The last I knew she was in the hospital in Flagstaff with a broken back." She spoke it so callously, as if the news didn't faze her at all.
A wave of nausea floated over me. If only I could get to Portia, I could heal her.
"Don't worry. I'll take you to see her soon," my mom continued with a smile almost as if she was reading my mind, but the thought didn't comfort me. "She's a lucky girl, that one. Always managing to escape unscathed from the things we've set up for her. The explosion was actually meant to kill her, but somehow she was the lone survivor out of her entire class. But that's okay. We'll just have her for lunch later."
Fury boiled through me—her meaning clear. "Don't you even think about touching her! If you even try to hurt her, I swear I'll kill you with my own bare hands," I snarled, wishing I could tear her apart right now. This freak before me wasn't my mother anymore.
She laughed loudly. "I wouldn't dream of touching her, Vance. Trust me, you'll be the one doing all the touching." She glanced at me. "In fact, knowing how badly you've wanted her, I wouldn't be surprised if you took her first and then killed her. Lust and bloodlust tend to mix very well together. You'll finally get to have her the way you've always wanted. I think you'll enjoy it."
"Why?" I asked again, feeling defeated. "Why are you doing this?" At this point, I was starting to pray that the coven was standing in a circle around Portia's hospital bed, protecting her. They needed to never leave her side for a moment, but I had no way to warn them.
"Your daddy needs you, Vance. He has plans that require you to be at his side."
"I don't give a shit what his plans are! Demon or not, I will never join him! Do you understand? Never!" I glared hard at her, the venom in my words clear.
She shrugged, nonchalantly. "Never say never. Look at me. I ran from him too, but he found me and convinced me of the error I was making. Together the two of us have been trying to get you back. You're our son and the power between the three of us will be incredible. You have no idea what we could do together."
"That's right. I don't—because it's never going to happen. I'd rather die than do anything that will hurt other people."
"Come on, Vance. We won't be making you do anything you don't want to. Trust me a bit, will you?"
I snorted. "I've always trusted you. Look where it's gotten me." I turned my hands as much as I could, gesturing to my current situation.
"Well, I'd like to be able to tell you to keep your chin up, that it will get better; but that would be a lie." She stood and moved to the door. "I can say this, though, it's about to get a lot worse."