Mercury hesitates. She hasn’t closed the padlock yet. She’s thinking about it. That’s something.
“I’m risking my life to come here, Mercury. You can kill me easily. All I ask is that you let me see Annalise.”
“Last time we discussed this you said you’d never kill your father.”
“That was before he left me to the Hunters. I nearly died—many times they nearly caught me—but I managed to get away, no thanks to him. I’d waited all my life for him to come for me. I thought he’d take me with him. I thought I’d learn from him, be with him, but no; he’d rather leave me for the Hunters to catch and torture to death.”
“He’s a cruel man. I’m glad you’re realizing that, Nathan.”
I bow my head and cling to the bars, saying, “I’ll do anything for Annalise, Mercury. And I’ll risk my life to help her but I need to see her first. Please . . .”
I daren’t look up. All I can do is hope that Mercury’s hatred blinds her to the fact that I will never kill Marcus, could never kill him. But I have to make her believe that for Annalise I’d try.
I drop to my knees. “Please, Mercury.”
The barred gate swings silently open. I hesitate and look up.
“I will boil you alive if you try any tricks,” Mercury says, and she steps back and into darkness.
I get to my feet and go in. Mercury closes the gate and then shuts the wooden door and slides two large bolts into place. Then she takes a pinch of some grains from a small stone bowl that’s carved into the tunnel wall and sprinkles them over the bolts. The spicy smell fills the air again. I think the grains must fix the bolts in place.
The tunnel continues pretty much the same inside but there are a few oil lamps hanging along the walls, flickering a yellow light. Mercury keeps Gabriel in an iron grip and steers him along the tunnel as it curves to the right and I follow. She sweeps through a curtain of heavy material and I follow her into a large room, a grand hall, with roughly cut stone walls lined all round with tapestries. The curtain we came through is also a tapestry. There are no doors and I suspect that each tapestry conceals a different tunnel.
Mercury stops in the center of the hall and releases Gabriel. She says, “Stay there,” and Gabriel does a wonderful confused look.
I say to Mercury, “Pers doesn’t speak English. Just French.”
Mercury mutters something to Gabriel and he gives a Pers-like scowl. She walks round Gabriel, looking at him from all sides.
“So, Pilot is dead. That is a great loss to us all. And Gabriel? I take it he’s dead too?”
“I arranged to meet him at a place in the forest. He never turned up. Then Hunters arrived.” From that description, it should be clear what must have happened: Gabriel was caught and tortured to reveal the location of the meeting place.
“I’m sorry,” Mercury says.
“Really?” I scowl now. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Gabriel was an honorable Black Witch.” She pauses and runs her fingers through Gabriel’s hair, then lifts a strand and lets it drop. I think Gabriel has even got Pers’s head lice.
I know I need to keep things moving. I say, “Where’s Annalise?”
“You risk much for Annalise, Nathan. Are you sure she’s worth it?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Mercury comes to stare into my eyes. “True love. It’s a powerful force.”
“If I have to choose between Annalise and my father then I will. But I need to see her. Show me that she’s alive and I’ll do what you want.”
Mercury leans closer to me and strokes my cheek again. Her finger is cold and dry as bone. She says, “You always smelled so good, Nathan.”
“I can’t say the same for you,” I snarl. “Show me Annalise.”
“I love it when you fight back, Nathan. It’s quite delicious. Come, before I change my mind.”
She turns and walks past Gabriel, saying something in French as she passes, and Gabriel scowls and sits on the floor. I follow Mercury to the far end of the hall, to a tapestry of a hunting scene, a man on a horse with a dog running beside him and a deer with arrows in it. Behind the tapestry is a tunnel identical to the one leading from the entrance. Mercury is already striding down it.
It’s looking good for our plan. Gabriel should be on his way back to the entrance as I follow Mercury down the tunnel, which is more like a corridor. There are wooden doors on both sides and Mercury is already at the furthest one. She goes through it and I slow. I’ve been so anxious about dealing with Mercury that I’m unprepared for seeing Annalise.
I step through the doorway, expecting a cell but finding I’m in a bedroom. There’s a chair, a table, a tall chest of drawers, and a wardrobe all in a rich dark wood. An oil lantern hangs low from the center of the room, giving light and scent, and below it is a bed and on the bed is Annalise.
I feel my heart racing in panic: Annalise is pale; her eyes are closed. She’s laid out on her back, which somehow makes her look more dead than asleep.
I touch her hand with mine. It’s cold. Her face is thin. I lean over and listen for her breathing but can’t hear anything. I feel for a pulse in her neck and find none.
“This isn’t right,” I say. “She’s not asleep.”
“No, Nathan. She’s not asleep. She’s in a death-like sleep. No breathing, no pulse to speak of; her body—and her mind—is shut down to the lowest of levels. But there is still life in her.”
“How long can she survive like this?”
Mercury doesn’t reply but goes to Annalise and smooths her hair on the pillow.
“Mercury! How long?”
“A month more. Then it will probably be too late.”
“You have to wake her. Now!”
“I don’t see Marcus’s heart.”
“Wake her and I’ll get it. If she dies I never will.”
Mercury smooths Annalise’s hair again.
“Please, Mercury.”
“Nathan, begging doesn’t suit you.”
I curse her. “Wake her now! Wake her or you get nothing.”
And I’m convinced she’s going to laugh in my face but she says, “I’ve always liked you, Nathan.” She turns to look at Annalise. “And I admit she is looking frail. White Witches have no strength. A Black Witch could survive three times as long.”
“Mercury, you gain nothing by letting her die. You’re not giving me enough time to get to Marcus. It’s impossible.”
Mercury comes to me and looks into my eyes. “So you will kill him? Your own father?”
I look back at her and say it like I mean it. “Yes. I’ll find a way.”
“It will be difficult.”
“I’ll find a way. But only if you wake Annalise. Now.”
“She’ll remain my prisoner until you fulfill your half of the bargain.”
“Yes, yes. I agree.”
“She will be my slave. I warn you, Nathan, I have little patience with slaves or prisoners. I’ll treat her badly. The sooner you destroy Marcus, the less Annalise will suffer.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Very well.”
She turns and kisses Annalise on the lips and, as she does, Annalise’s lips are parted and words on hot breath flow out of Mercury’s mouth and into Annalise. Mercury straightens and smooths her hand down Annalise’s arm, brushes the backs of her fingers down her cheek, saying, “I have begun the process. The spark of life is reignited but it will be hours, maybe a day, before the next stage can take place and she wakes.”
I go to Annalise and take her hand.
“What’s the next stage?” I ask Mercury, turning to look at her, but she’s walking toward the door, leaving already. I’ve no idea if Gabriel’s had enough time to let the others in. I need to delay Mercury but I don’t know how without raising her suspicions. “Is there anything I should do?
Will she need water or—”
Mercury half turns, saying, “I told you—”
She’s interrupted by a call. It sounds like Pers but Gabriel wouldn’t be calling. I don’t understand the words but I have a bad feeling.
Mercury looks irritated rather than angry and leaves the room. I go to the doorway, planning on following her. Mercury pulls the tapestry aside and stands there, her back to me. I can see through into the great hall and I can hear Pers again. Now she runs up to Mercury. It’s the real Pers, dressed differently from Gabriel. She sees me too and shouts and points. I’ve no idea what she’s saying but I can guess.
Mercury doesn’t even reply but turns to me and I duck back into the bedroom as a bolt of lightning flashes past. I risk another quick glance into the corridor and see the tapestry falling back into place. Mercury has gone into the great hall. The noise of thunder fills the bunker and the walls of the corridor shake like they might collapse.
I run to the tapestry but before I get there I hear a gunshot, and then an explosion, and another and another, so that the vibrations of each one add to the next until the whole bunker seems to be shaking. There is now a howling gale that I have to battle against to push aside the tapestry and look into the great hall, where I see Van facing Mercury.
Nesbitt is at the far end of the hall, his gun pointed at the body of Pers, who is splayed on the floor, a neat bullet hole in her forehead. For a second, I’m in shock but it isn’t Gabriel; it’s the real Pers—the one wearing different clothes.
Nesbitt turns to point the gun at Mercury but the strength of the wind increases and he can’t hold the gun steady. He can hardly hold himself upright.
I spot Gabriel, no longer in disguise. He’s kneeling in the corner of the room, a gun in his hand, but he can’t hold it steady either. He shoots and misses.
Mercury raises her arms and swirls them over her head and the wind strengthens to a furious pace, picking up all loose items—cushions, papers, a small table—so they circle the room in a tornado. Even the heavy wooden chairs slide around in a strange circular dance and the wind forces me backward into the shelter of the corridor.
Mercury stands in the middle of the tornado, howling in fury. A flash of lightning jumps out, strengthens and grows. Van screams and only then does the lightning fade. Nesbitt fires his gun but he cannot hurt Mercury. She’ll kill us all.
The tapestry over the end of the corridor whips in my face and I step back. I want the animal to take over. I want to be him, even if it’s for one last time. And I let the animal adrenaline flood through me and I welcome it.
I’m inside him. Inside the animal. But this time it’s different: now we both want the same thing.
We
the tapestry whips in our face. we snap up and pull it down. we’re strong and huge and even on all fours our head is high off the ground.
there’s the howl of the wind, which sounds like a woman but the words don’t make sense anymore. they’re just noise, screeching sounds, furious sounds.
the woman in gray has her back to us. her dress is flying wildly, ripping apart in places. her hair is vertical, in a whirlwind of its own. lightning flashes out of the storm around her. she spreads her arms and her hands throw lightning across the room. the wind drops a little. the other woman is on the floor, crawling away. the older man is near her. he’s angry and frightened, for himself and the woman on the floor, but he has a gun. he steps forward and shoots but the gun’s empty, and he’s shouting and running at the lightning woman but she throws her arm back and a surge of wind picks the man up and flings him hard against the wall. lightning woman doesn’t turn to look at what she has done, she only looks at the other woman, who is crawling away, and lightning strikes the floor near the crawling woman. the flash is dazzling and the thunder echoes in the room.
we catch a movement to our far right. a young man is in the entrance to another corridor. blood is running down the side of his face.
we swing back to the lightning woman. she’s the only threat. she’ll kill us if we don’t kill her. we move forward. we smell her now, a metallic smell of anger.
the woman on the floor is still alive. she is exhausted but she is saying words.
the wind drops more. the lightning woman’s hair falls around her neck. she’s speaking again and then another lightning flash hits the ground. the woman on the floor screams a short, sharp scream and drops limp. smoke rises from her clothes. her hair is burning.
we move forward to the lightning woman. her body stiffens. she’s sensed something. we get ready, tensing our rear legs. lightning woman turns. she sees us. she’s surprised but she doesn’t step back. she raises her arm to send wind or lightning but we’re on her already. and she’s on the floor beneath us, in our grasp. she’s thin and brittle but hard, lost in our hug.
lightning strikes around us, around the room, dazzling. loud. louder. brighter. crashing close but not striking us. the storm is wild, howling, fiercely cold. we are in the eye of it. but we keep hold, crushing the woman to our chest. her ribs crack. crack, crack, crack. we push our claws into her side and rip them in and up, splitting bone, tearing through her. hot blood running out. we claw again. through the tough skin and down, crashing through ribs and guts to her hip bone.
the wind has gone.
still and quiet now.
there is no fear. it has faded with the last flash of lightning and thunder.
a small flame licks up the side of a tapestry. smoke and steam hang in the air.
the lightning woman is still.
we loosen our grip on her body and let it drop hard on the floor. we smell her from shoulder to guts, all open and red.
her blood tastes good.
we take her in our jaws, lifting her slightly as we bite. the redness of it and the smell of it are good.
Pink
i’m in a bathroom.
i’m shaking.
but i’m me.
* * *
i run the bath, washing the blood off my arm.
i remember every second of being the animal. i remember it all.
i lie in the bath, slide under, and submerge. when i surface again the water has turned pink.
i think i’m going to throw up and i get out and stand by the toilet but i’m not sick.
* * *
i’ve stopped shaking.
Kissing
“Can I talk to you?”
Gabriel stands in the bathroom doorway. I’ve got my back to him, though I can see him in the mirror. He steps further into the room. He is incredibly, perfectly beautiful and worried and human, and I look at myself, at my reflection. I look the same as ever but I’m not.
I tell Gabriel, “I can remember all of it.” I even remember transforming back. Once Mercury was dead I stayed with her, almost feeling her life dissipate into the silence around me. Nesbitt staggered to Van and knelt over her, checking her pulse, talking to her, telling her to heal. She was burned, smoldering and blackened. Nesbitt spoke quietly to her. He smelled of sorrow. Gabriel came out of the corridor. He no longer held a gun. He walked toward me, arms out, palms facing me. Not quite meeting my gaze, looking at the floor and glancing up, and he sat on the wet rug near me. I lay down by him and rested, and the animal adrenaline left me and in a second I had transformed back. I returned to this me. Nathan.
Gabriel says, “That’s good, that you remember.”
“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know.” I turn to face him. “It’s different when I’m the animal. I’m not the same.” I say it so quietly that I don’t know if he can even hear me.
“Don’t be afraid of your Gift, Nathan.”
“I’m not afraid of it, not anymore. But once I’m transformed, when I’m the animal, everything is different. I’m sort of watching him but also part of him, feeling all the things he feels. And it feels amazing, Gabriel, to be completely, absolutely h
im—to be completely, absolutely wild. I don’t want to be an animal, Gabriel, but, when I am, it’s the best feeling. The best, wildest, most intensely beautiful feeling. I always thought a person’s Gift reflected something about that person and all I can think is that my Gift reflects my desires, and my desires are to be totally wild, totally free. Without any control.”
“You enjoyed it?”
“Is that wrong?”
“There’s no right or wrong here, Nathan.”
I don’t know if I can say it but I want to tell him, so I do. “It feels good.”
He comes closer to me and says, “I love it when you’re honest with me. You’re more in touch with the real you than anyone I’ve ever met.”
And I know he’s going to kiss me again and I put my hand out against his chest to stop him.
But then I look at him, at his face, his eyes, and the gold in them tumbling around, and I don’t know why I’m fighting this too. I’m curious about him. And just touching his chest is something. It’s nice. It feels good. I’m not sure what I want to do and I know I’ll stop if it doesn’t feel good.
I slide my hand up to his shoulder and behind his neck. I’m leaning my head the slightest amount, bending forward, and he doesn’t move. He’s so still. My hand is round his neck, in his hair. I’m not looking in his eyes but at his lips and as quietly as I can I say, “Gabriel.”
I’m so close to him our lips are almost touching, and then I move closer so our lips are touching as I say his name again. It’s like a kiss but it’s not really a kiss. And it’s nice and I want more. I move my lips without saying his name, still barely touching, then closer, caressing his lips with mine. And he kisses me. I don’t care anymore about anything. I want to feel more and I’m desperate and kissing Gabriel on the mouth harder and harder and pulling his body to me as hard as I can, my arms round him, our mouths open, tongues licking each other, our teeth clashing, and then I’m pushing him away. Pushing him hard against the wall. And then I back away from him and walk out of the bathroom.