despicable,” Adriana shouted.
“No, Adriana. It is you that is despicable,” Erik stated. Kate felt his presence withdraw and knew that Adriana had sparked his anger. “You have gone against your nature. I would love to see you possess one human soul before your untimely death, however.”
Erik turned back toward Kate and moved past her. He stalked toward Blaire and took her face into his - Aaron’s - hands. Kate heard him lightly hitting her mother’s cheeks in an attempt to get her attention. Her father’s hands would have never touched Blaire with such resentment, and she hated that her mother would remember this moment. “Blaire,” Erik said calmly. “Don’t be afraid, okay? Adriana and I are going to play a little game right now, and we need you to be the sacrifice. Are you willing to do that for us?”
Kate heard her mother shaking her head; the tendrils in her earrings swung back and forth, creating sounds like a wind chime. She knew that silent tears were streaming down Blaire’s face, and Kate sent a prayer to Light, pleading for the opportunity to save her friends before she lost her mother. She had already lost her father to Erik; she couldn’t lose both of them. Not like this, not now.
Erik sighed a fake sigh. “That’s just too bad,” he clucked. “We’ll just have to force you. Be careful, though, Blaire, you might kill Adriana if you resist too much. She has never possessed a soul before.”
Erik began to drag Kate’s mother toward Adriana. The sound of metal scraping on wood became louder as he pushed passed Kate. He kicked Kate out of the way when he reached her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming out. She was pushed against the cream couch, half hidden from view, and could now open her eyes. She blinked several times before focusing on her surroundings. Kate was staring at the bottom of the couch; she breathed in the familiar scent of leather and her father. She remained focused on Erik, though, and listened to what was going on in front of her. Kate could hear Erik repositioning Blaire’s chair. She knew that she had to wait until the right moment, and it wasn’t right now.
Erik placed Blaire in front of Adriana. He untied Adriana’s hands, and fastened them to the side of Blaire’s face with the dark magic. He whistled as he did this, a renewed sense of confidence burning brightly in his newly captured soul.
Kate moved slightly, and when Erik didn’t scream out in anger, she dared a glance at the people she loved. Erik’s back was to her, and Kate moved silently, lifting herself up until she lay on her stomach, her elbows supporting her upper body. She crawled until she was certain she was out of view.
Kate knew that she couldn’t let her mother see her, because she would scream out, ask for help, or tell her to run. She was glad that Blaire had been facing away from her, towards Adriana, even though her stomach twisted at the knowledge of Erik’s plan for her. Kate sat there for a moment, hidden from view, relieved that her friends’ emotions would never betray her presence.
After catching her breath, Kate crawled into the kitchen. She sat there for a moment, her back leaning against the cabinets as she attempted to gain the confidence she sought. She pressed her palm to her heart, attempting to slow it down with her touch. She settled with her ability to steady her breathing instead, and focused on the rise and fall of her chest. Kate knew that she didn’t have much longer, so she took a deep breath and lifted herself so that she was standing, and moved to the drawers across from her. She began silently pulling out knives and grabbed her mother’s rolling pin, just in case her first choice failed. Quiet tears spilled over her eyes and she sent a wordless apology to Light, and to her father, for what she had to do. She knew, deep down, that her father wouldn’t survive anyway. She knew that he would want this. Aaron would want his release; he would want to sacrifice himself to protect the women he loved most in this world.
Kate peeked around the corner but pulled back. Erik had turned around for a moment; he had been spinning in a circle, almost as if he was celebrating a win that hadn’t happened yet. Kate’s anger spiked at Erik’s arrogance; his solid confidence sparked her own.
A second later, Kate looked again. Erik was standing behind Blaire’s body, his broad back facing Kate. Kate stepped around the corner and moved, catlike, toward Erik. She had to make sure that she was close enough to him to kill her father almost immediately. She didn’t want to give Erik the chance to run or fight. She didn’t want to cause her father pain. She didn’t want to let everyone down.
Kate stepped forward. She lifted her hand, ready to strike. She sent up another silent prayer to Light, asking him to lend her strength. Immediately, her hands stopped shaking and her heartbeat slowed, calming her soul. She thought about her father, his immense love for Kate and for Blaire. She thought about his passion for the law, for fighting against evil among humans. She let a dozen memories slip through her mind in the second before she threw the first knife.
Kate saw herself as a child. She was swinging high on a swing, her mother behind her, pushing her, her father out in front of her, holding his hands out. He kept laughing and telling her to jump, but she kept chickening out. He gave her one last chance to jump before he ran to get her, and she laughed gleefully. She jumped then, at the last possible second and landed safely in his arms, like she knew she would.
Next, Kate saw herself at twelve. She came home crying from a particularly difficult day at school. The girls kept making fun of Kate’s chestnut curls, pulling them and threatening to cut them off. Kate’s father held her, telling her that her curls were beautiful. When she stopped crying, he took her to a salon and asked the woman to teach Kate how to fix her curls so they weren’t puffy or frizzy anymore.
Finally, Kate saw herself at sixteen, right before moving to Florida. She was convinced that the kids at school cared about her when they invited her out on the boat. She had been wrong. They spent the entire afternoon telling Kate what was wrong with her and what she could do to improve herself. When she went home that evening, red and puffy, her father pulled out toilet paper rolls and eggs. They spent the night throwing toilet paper over the trees that stood in front of the mean kids’ houses and tossing eggs at their windows and doors. Those were a few of the many moments she would think of when remembering her father; he would live on, immortalized by her memories, by her love for him.
A single tear slid down Kate’s face as she pulled herself back to the present. She didn’t allow herself another moment to think. Kate pulled her arm back like she was playing darts. She forced her eyes open and arched the knife slightly. She breathed out slowly and threw the weapon toward Erik.
28
Erik screamed and stumbled forward when the blade hit his upper back. The dark tendrils of magic released themselves from Kate’s friends and mother immediately. Rico rushed to Kate’s side, quick as lightning, and tore the knives from Kate’s steely grip before she could throw another one. Donovan rushed toward Adriana and Blaire and broke the chains that bound Kate’s mother in one swift motion. He pulled the two women away from Erik and stood in front of them protectively.
Erik stumbled toward the leather couch, and stood up again with its support. He reached behind him, pulling the knife out in one swift movement. Dark blood clung to the blade, Kate’s father’s blood. Erik spun to face Kate and darker tendrils swirled around him. He lifted his arms in the air, directing the tendrils of mist. He almost looked as if he was directing an orchestra, and Kate wasn’t surprised to see that the tendrils of dark magic obeyed Erik. He had almost gained complete control of it, she thought.
Rico pushed Kate behind him, ready to spring forward, ready to fight, but suddenly, without warning, Donovan launched himself toward Erik. He knocked Erik down, kicking him until he could barely move. The tendrils, however, still swirled around Erik. They clung to both men like snakes, and a deep and desperate fear clung to Kate’s thoughts. She pushed forward, but Rico held her back and moved up instead.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
“No,” Donovan insisted. “I must do this. I made the man he is today. I taught him to
take human souls. I aided his cause. I must be the one to destroy him. I must be the one to take his soul. I must steal his dark magic and end him.”
Rico nodded succinctly, knowing that there was no time to argue, and he and Donovan moved Erik so that he was now sitting in one of the metal chairs. The tendrils of dark magic attached themselves to Rico as well, like leeches trying to take his life source. Kate watched as Rico helped Donovan tie Erik to the chair with the twine and chain that had been used to trap Kate’s body. When they were finished, Rico stepped back and took Kate’s hand into his own, squeezing slightly. Kate watched as the tendrils slithered down Rico’s legs back toward their master and shivered slightly. She could tell that Rico was nervous about this and moved her focus back to Donovan.
Donovan positioned himself and began to recite the incantation, the Rite of Control. The words began to tumble out, and Kate shook her head back and forth, knowing that he was wrong. She jumped forward abruptly, remembering her knew knowledge.
“Stop,” she called in an attempt to gain Donovan’s attention.
Donovan paused and looked at her, confusion in his eyes. Kate could feel Rico and Adriana glaring at her in