Mutiny (3 page)

Nothing, but Krystal.

The choice is mine and I'm still wavering as to what I'm going to do. But that doesn't matter at this precise moment. What matters is that I'm here and this is where I want to be, for now.

Her head is tilted to the side, with her hair spread across her pillow like a dark fan. Soft black lashes shadow her smooth creamy skin. Lifting a hand, I move closer to her like I'm going to touch her face. My fingers actually get really close to her cheek, but I don't feel anything. The touch is not real. Her chest moves up and down with each breath she takes and I feel myself pacing my own breathing accordingly. Inhaling, I smell her fragrance, something soft and feminine. It's a scent I'll carry with me forever, no matter which way I go—good or bad.

She looks so peaceful and I wonder if she knows I'm here. After I returned from Trance, Nasiel was there at my house. He explained they were called the Mystyx and that Krystal's what they call a medium—one who can see and talk to spirits. Does she know what I am or what I'm going to be? Probably not, I say to myself. I won't be a ghost, but rather a demon.

The Mystyx are fighting for something, they have a purpose. Why shouldn't I? Embracing this new life seems like the right thing to do. I'm so pissed at my dad for leaving without even trying to find me. I know that for a fact now, as well.

Nasiel knows a lot and he's not bad to talk to if you ignore the fact that he usually an agent of death. If I remained on earth, where would I go? Who would I live with? What would I do?

Krystal's with Jake now and that hurts—a lot. She was the one thing good in my life, and now…

A cool breeze floats through her window, blowing strands of her hair until they dance in the air. It's not Nasiel this time, I don't feel the reaper near. Funny how I can feel these things now, how I seem to be connecting to that world. No, the breeze is me. I feel the coolness in my fingertips, filtering through my body as it enters the room.

I'm doing this all by myself. A jolt of pleasure moves through me as I watch the breeze I've created pull at the sheet covering Krystal's body. It slides down lower so that the full length of her nightshirt is revealed. It's pink and has a colorful peace sign in the center. Ironic, considering what was brewing between the Mystyx and Charon.

I fixate on the curve of her breasts and hips and I get lost there for a moment, longing, needing. Then she stirs like maybe she feels the chill of the air. She moves and turns onto her side, pulling her knees up to her chest. One side of her face is facing me and I kneel down to get closer. I can't resist moving my face closer to hers, my lips just a whisper away.

I want to feel her, to taste her lips one more time. I like this feeling of control I have now. Given the circumstances, my decision is even clearer now.

A persistent tugging in my chest says there's something still holding me here, something I'm going to have to put away completely in order to move on. There's no use when she wants someone else. Right? Besides, what can I give her, even though I'm now a part of the same mystical world in which she exists. I'll be on the other side though, a side she'll probably always fight against because that's the way she is. I'll be in a constant battle with the other supernatural one who she thinks she's falling in love with. Jake. His name reverberates through my body like thunder in a brewing storm. My teeth clench and my resolve strengthens.

I kiss Krystal, my lips brushing over hers. She doesn't feel me, I know this. But I feel her and that's all that matters. I feel her.

Standing back, I prepare to leave, prepare to walk away from her and the life I thought I had. Then she moves, rolls over onto her back and her eyes slowly open. I stand perfectly still, waiting, hoping she can see me now.

But she doesn't.

She just looks around like maybe she thinks there's something there. Then she reaches for the sheet, pulls it up to her neck and turns onto her other side so that I can no longer see her face.

She's dumped me again.

For the last time.

This is the fifth night of the sixth month. I'm walking along this stretch of dirt road. I don't really know where I am or how I got here. I just started walking and this is where I ended up. It's pretty dark outside now and I get the feeling the hours are winding down.

They will come for me again shortly, at the sixth hour. What will they find? What will my final decision be?

I've gone back and forth, and over and over again. Weighing the pros and cons, I guess. There aren't many pros to being dead and power isn't so great once you've had a taste of it. And I have. It was a small taste, but I enjoyed it just the same.

My feet are moving just as fast as my mind, but I don't feel the ground beneath me, just the motion and the sensation that I'm getting closer.

I hear the sounds of an engine, tires rolling over dirt and rock long before I see the one headlight down the road. A car's coming.

Blood starts coursing through my veins. I actually feel like its pumping, traveling, filling every crevice inside me. I can see clearly in the dark. My sight is tinged with a red chroma color, but I can see the trees on either side of the road, the winding path the car is about to take, the two passengers who have no idea what's about to happen to them.

Trust.

Believe.

I repeat the mantra in my head, focusing every thought on the car. Well, not necessarily the car, but more like the person driving the car.

His name is Oz, short for Osborne Krandle. He's seventeen, a senior who ditched school more than he ever attended. There's a girl in the passenger seat, who looks a lot younger than she should be, riding around on this dark road with Oz. But my thoughts are focused on him, the way his fingers are gripping the steering wheel and his foot steadily presses down on the gas pedal.

The car speeds up, kicking up dust clouds as it moves faster along the road.

Faster.

Faster.

Until it swerves, the steering wheel sliding through Oz's sweaty grip. The ditch isn't that deep, but at the speed Oz is going when the car tips forward into it, the velocity propels the vehicle and it flips right over. One time. Two times. Three times.

Then the fire starts and my chest warms at the sight of the growing flames flickering across the crushed metal. Vaguely I hear their cries for help, but push the sound away like an unwanted disease. Fear and death are in the air, blowing past me on the late summer's night breeze. My chest fills with something. It feels hot, but it's not painful. Whatever it is pours into me like water into a glass, and I shiver a little as I'm standing there.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see swirls of black smoke rolling along the ground. It's completely dark, no streetlights for miles on this stretch of country road. But I can see it. Better yet, I feel its approach. It's a kindred feeling, a mutual bond.

In no time, Lor is beside me, standing up like a silhouette of a real person. It does not speak, it just is. Then I feel something on my shoulder, but I'm not startled. I no longer fear the darkness anymore. It is my freedom. And now that I've tasted it, I want more.

“You have done well,” the familiar voice whispers. “Charon is pleased.”

“How do you know?” I ask Nasiel.

“Look.”

He points a gnarled-looking hand upward, and I tilt my head back. Above are three ravens flying in formation, one slightly ahead, the other two perfectly aligned several inches behind the first bird. They don't make a sound. They simply soar in the dark cloud-filled sky.

“Are we finished?” I ask because if this is what it feels like to be powerful I want to feel this way all the time. “When do I get my power?”

Nasiel's response is quick. “You have it.”

Stretching out my hands in front of me, I look down at them. They look the same.

“It is inside. You needed only to trust in Charon's word. Believe in him and his destiny. You are now of Charon, of his spirit and his power. He will see you now.”

 

What I did had to be done. I have no regrets.

A lot of time has passed. It's no longer measured in days and months. I just know that many things have transpired since that fateful day.

School has started again. Students are going back to classes, celebrating holidays and moving on with their lives.

My choice was a natural reaction to all that had happened that was unnatural. A part of me wonders about what would have happened if I had made a different choice.
She still wouldn't have been mine.

At least this way, there's a chance.

My feelings for Krystal haven't changed. If it's possible, they're even more intense. The desire for Krystal deep inside fuels the anger that makes me useful to Charon. It's not a bad deal, and I'm not complaining.

Tonight as I stand in back of the church, near the portal that will take me back, I look up into the sky.

The forecast today says there will be a rare sighting of the
supermoon
. It is big and bright, and in the distance I hear the sound of some of the creatures of the Underworld that walk the earth realm in disguise. They are paying homage to the moon.

As I stare at the giant luminous orb, I imagine what might be the lost dream. My lips don't move, but I'm talking to the moon and hoping that maybe, just maybe, somewhere in Lincoln someone else is, too.

I hope she hears my words, and listens to everything that's in my heart.
I'm coming back for you, Krystal. I won't live without you.

The words echo in my head over and over again and then there's laughter, and I wonder if I'm just being a fool.

She doesn't hear me. She doesn't want to hear me.

I'll just have to learn to live with that.

Don't miss other titles in Artist Arthur's Mystyx series, available now wherever Kimani TRU books and ebooks are sold:

 

Manifest

Mystify

Mayhem

 

And more coming soon…