Phantom Eyes (Witch Eyes) (4 page)

She wore a black pantsuit, the jacket’s sleeves coming up short and exposing the cuffs of her white business shirt. Her collar had been pulled over the top of the suit coat, a flare of white against her skin.

Lucien, unsurprisingly, had gone black on black. His pinstripe suit gave just a touch of whimsy, a humor that no one else seemed to share. If possible, his dress shirt was even darker than the suit that surrounded it.

Grace said that Lucien was still in hiding, licking his wounds. But he wouldn’t miss this. Neither of them would miss this. They’d gone to so much trouble to make today possible.
I looked down at my watch and almost started to smile. Had Grace known? Had she planned this out from start to finish?

Trey reached for me again, like he needed to prove to me that he was no longer his mother’s pawn. But I’d used Catherine’s arrival for the distraction it was and darted out of his reach.

I was halfway down the steps before anyone realized what was coming.

six

Even a week ago, dramatically descending the stairs without my sunglasses would have made an impact. The witch eyes had been physically devastating, but it was how they
looked.
They were ever-changing—eyes that could be cobalt blue, amber, and then a vibrant viridian all in a matter of seconds. Never the same shade from one minute to the next, the same way I never saw the same sights twice.

That was then. Ever since the power had been ripped out of me, my eyes had settled on just one color: an unnatural, pale green like limestone battered by the sea. People still stared, my eyes still called attention to themselves, but now they were just a cry for attention.

I flew down the stairs, moving faster than I thought I could. The rest of the world had slowed, and I’d been quickened to move faster than ever before. Trey called my name from the stairs, but he’d hesitated too long. By the time he realized I was gone, I was already at the bottom.

On the way down the stairs, I’d slid my watch over the bones of my wrist and onto the lowest part of my palm, where my fingers could dig into the leather band with ease. There was a countdown in play, all I had to do was to keep them busy long enough for the payoff.

I strode up to the two of them, defiant and unafraid. For the first time, I met Catherine’s stare eye to eye. I expected to see something in hers, something vicious or cruel or mocking. She’d drawn her line in the sand. But her eyes were blank—walled off and empty. Just like Jason’s. Revealing nothing. Up close, I saw the differences in her from the last time. Her skin was more pale than I remembered, and the makeup around her eyes was thick, but it didn’t disguise how sunken her face had become.

“They’ll let anyone into these things,” Lucien murmured in a low drawl at my approach.

I didn’t break my gaze. “Pipe down—the humans are talking.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow at me. “Are we now?”

I spread my arms, inviting. The international symbol for “come at me, you psycho warlock bitch.”

“Braden, come on.” Trey was suddenly between us, his hand pressing against my chest. Pushing me backwards. “Don’t.”

“You’d better kill me,” I said, not caring how my voice carried. Actually, I wanted it to carry. I wanted the crowd to hear me. I wanted them to
know.
When the time came and someone found my body, I wanted them to know without a shadow of a doubt who was responsible. “Come on, Catherine. What are you scared of?”

Like a volume switch had been pressed, the conversational din surrounding us had almost completely diminished. My words rang throughout the club.

“This is everything you’ve been waiting for,” I shouted, not caring that I was throwing myself right into the path of predators. My skin was hot, my insides burned, and
I just had to do this.
“Kill me, Catherine.”

Several seconds passed. No one in the room even dared to breathe. Everyone waited on Catherine’s reaction. I could feel them all around me, people who’d been raised in this town and had never before seen a confrontation between a Thorpe and a Lansing quite like this, where there were no agendas to hide behind, no minions mouthing words written by someone else.

The city held its breath.

Catherine, of course, was not one to disappoint. “Deal with this,” she said, framing her voice just loud enough to carry to the ring of observers around us. They would eagerly spread her response for her, and Catherine wouldn’t have to resort to shouting to match my fury. When she turned back to me, it was with the cold, empty mask I’d seen her wear before when she was dealing with people of no consequence. Like I didn’t matter.

“I came to pay my respects,” she said clearly. “A pity if that offends you.”

Trey stayed by my side, one hand still braced in front of me. “You are
unbelievable,
” he breathed.

Catherine couldn’t have missed the utter contempt in his voice, but she pretended not to notice anyway. She took a step forward, her eyes measuring mine. “You are a very stupid boy,” she said softly, her lips barely moving, and her whisper just loud enough for me to hear. There was no chance anyone else would.

Upstairs, I’d told Trey that if I had the power, I would have turned it on Catherine. Killed her with as little mercy and care as she had killed John. But being in front of her like this, seeing he
r breathe, and blink, and the faintest hint of anger blossoming in her cheeks … it was too much. Catherine was alive, and John was dead, and there was nothing I could do about
it.

Oh no.
Tears that I had spent three days expecting suddenly sprang up, and my vision shimmered for once because of weakness and not because of magic. My face grew hot and my skin felt too tight for everything that was trying to force its way out. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Now in front of
them.

“A pleasure as always, Gentry,” Lucien said, rubbing his thumb up and down the surface of his glass. He acted like he hadn’t just witnessed my verbal assault on his pet human. Or that he cared. “You and I should get together. We have something to discuss.”

“You’re insane,” Trey said with a sneer.

The crowd parted around Jason as he strode towards us, a
smooth pace that suggested his timing was more coincidental than planned. His arrival halted things before they could degenerate even more. Relatively speaking. “Lucien,” Jason said, greeting the man as if he was just any ordinary business associate. Pleasant, but flat. “I’d heard you were dead.”

As quickly as Jason appeared, Catherine vanished into the crowd with only a tip of her champagne flute to my father before she departed.

“Rumors of my demise and all that.” Lucien didn’t seem bothered by the fact that Catherine had abandoned him.

“Pity,” Jason replied dispassionately. “I liked you better that way.”

I could feel the conversation drawing to a close, and I started to panic. The parry and riposte between Jason and Lucien was formulaic at best. Another few moments and it would be over. Nerves and wine chewed at my gut.

“Do we really need to play this game, Jason?” Lucien asked.

“You’re threatening my son,” Jason said, without any trace of hospitality. “You should praise whatever bottom feeders you cling to that you still have all your teeth.”

“And who do you thank that the boy still draws breath?” Lucien asked with an arched eyebrow.

Catheri
ne had walked away.
Another of my enemies had walked away without even so much as a scuffle. A few nights ago, she’d used everything in her repertoire to try and take my life. And now we were trading remarks in public and no one was the wiser.

I get people wanting to kill me. I understand it. But I really didn’t understand why they
weren’t.
Only Ben had seemed like he was really committed to killing me. Everyone else, including Lucien, had backed away slowly. And then it hit me. I knew what to do.

“Why am I?”

My question was an instant quiet to a building storm. Jason and Lucien both turned their attention to me. Trey dropped his arm. “Why am I still alive, Lucien? You can’t use me anymore, right?”

My breath caught as Lucien paused, and I could feel the sweat starting to seep through my shirt. Seconds were ticking down, but as much as I wanted to check my watch again, I knew that the wrong motion would tip him off.

“I get why you switched sides. The Lansings are probably your best bet next time around.” It had taken Lucien a hundred years of careful matchmaking to create another Grace. If he wanted another one, it might take that long or longer. “But why am I still here? Or Trey, for that matter.”

“Do you have such a death wish?” Lucien breathed, a sudden spiral of black smoke filtering through his eyes. The crowds around us had diminished with Catherine gone; no one seemed to care as much when only one side of the feud was in attendance.

It was hard t
o say what happened first. One moment, Jason was to my left and Lucien in front of me. The next, Lucien was on the ground and Jason was standing above him, his face a dark scarlet. And in between
each moment, breaking them apart like snapshots, came a sonorous ringing of bells from all sides.

Goosebumps formed all over my body as I shivered underneath the sound. Jason and Trey both froze, their heads cocked to a side as though they were hearing something they couldn’t quite understand. But Lucien … Lucien suffered.

I’d seen Lucien broken and hobbled once before. This was worse.

The demon lawyer’s body
rippled,
as though there were a thousand independent parts shifting and writhing underneath the surface. The darkness was chased from his eyes until they were
too
white, pupils rolled up into his head in hiding. I’d seen his body split apart once before, saw reptilian skin and demonic eyes hidden under the skin in places that eyes weren’t meant to be. But now it was like his human mask was pulled too tight, and as each of those interior eyes shifted, so did the flesh that hid them.

Lucien writhed on the ground as his body started to shudder apart. I looked up in sudden fear, but the rest of the wake had their eyes turned away. In fact, no one was paying us any attention at all.

That’s when I saw the look on Jason’s face, equal parts appalled and unsure about what he was looking at. Even still, there was a sense of concentration in his eyes, like he knew exactly what was going on everywhere else in the building, and he was making sure no one else noticed
here.

The bells rang twelve times in total, and they coincided with twelve different seizures on Lucien’s part.

So that was what Grace meant.
The bells had done more than just make him a little uncomfortable, which is what I would have expected.

I crouched down in front of Lucien once the last bell had started to fade, and straightened the front of his suit coat, easing the lapels back into place before patting him on the shoulders. “You really should have seen that coming, asshole,” I said, smiling for the first time in days.

seven

Jason pulled me out of the wake immediately. I expected rage, or at least some yelling. Something to express just how pissed off he was at me. At how stupid I’d been to provoke Lucien the way I had. But Jason didn’t say anything at all as he led us back out to the town car that had driven us across town.

Trey followed us outside. I pulled my coat closer against my chest as a harsh wind swept up off the harbor. Both of them kept
looking
at me, snatching glances every time they thought my eyes were somewhere else. What had happened to Lucien was unexpected, but they both thought I had something to do with it. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that my power hadn’t secretly returned. I wasn’t playing possum. I’d let Grace do all the heavy lifting for me.

“Take him home. Watch him,” Jason said gruffly once we reached the car.

I turned around, confused, before realizing that Trey was ushering me into the car and then taking Jason’s place next to me. “What—” I started to ask before my father slammed the door in on the two of us. I shifted in my seat towards Trey. “What’s going on?”

Trey’s forehead was lines of tension, college ruled. “How’d you do that?” he questioned. “Did it come back? You should have said som
ething.”

“I didn’t do that,” I said, and then I followed it up with a lie, turning away from Trey. “I don’t know what happened. I’m still empty.”

“
Something
happened to him, Braden. You’re the only one I’ve ever seen hurt him before.”

“That’s because I’m the only one stupid enough to try.” I looked out the window. We were heading along the harbor, and I stared at all the ships that had been pulled from the water for the winter. Lucien would never forget what had happened. I’d already earned his enmity, but now I’d not only humbled him, I’d tweaked his nose while doing it. If he hadn’t wanted me dead before, he’d want me dead now.

Was that why I did it?
I could have left well enough alone, let him be hobbled by the bells and gone on with my life. But I’d had to engage, had to be there to witness it. And now he was going to come after me in revenge.

Of course, he’d have to stand in line.

“I think Jason’s starting to warm up to me,” Trey said from next to me, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

“He let you get in the car; he didn’t buy you a friendship bracelet,” I said dryly. “Plus, I think he’s expecting you to play babysitter. Make sure I don’t go on a demon-taunting rampage throughout the city.”

Trey eyed me, a hint of a smile threatening the corners of his mouth. “I wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on you.”

He just didn’t get it. I sighed, and Trey frowned like he expected another round of protests. But I didn’t say anything this time. I could only push him away so much, and I’d had enough for right now. I needed to catch my breath before the next time. Getting through the funeral service, and now the wake, was enough for me. I just wanted to crawl up into my bed and forget that there was a world outside of Jason’s house. At least for today.

We pulled up into the drive before I said quietly, “Don’t you think it’s weird? That I’m still here?”

Trey was quiet for a long moment before he finally said, “Lucky. Not weird.”

“Lucien has more reason than anyone to want me dead. Grace just wants to talk, now. Ben’s the only one who seems like he still wants a pound of flesh, and I still don’t get why.”

“Wait,” Trey commanded, suddenly serious. “Go back. Start again. What happened?” Now he sounded pissed.

“Oh, right.” I probably should have told him what had happened first. I started going through what had happened the night before, first Grace in the church and then Ben out behind the house. Trey’s good mood popped like a balloon, a sudden jolt that changed the pressure inside the car. As soon as it pulled to a stop in front of the house, I bolted out, like that would somehow make things better.

“When were you going to tell me?” he demanded, like he had any right to do that.

“I wasn’t.” Trey wasn’t even supposed to be here today. “This isn’t your problem, Trey. It’s mine. And I have to figure out what to do about it.” Because bending over and taking it wasn’t an option. And neither was relying on Trey to be there to help me. This wasn’t his fight. It was mine, and the truth was that I couldn’t protect him.

“Figure out what to do about
what
?” Jade asked, appearing in the doorway before I had even reached the door.

“Both of you?” I groaned. I’d thought that I’d just missed her at the wake—of course she’d have to show up at some point; she was a Lansing.

“Figured you might need some reinforcements,” she said with a soft smile, and then added in a rush, “Jason said it was fine.”

Drew appeared behind her, an amber bottle tucked into his catcher’s mitt–sized hand. “Did Jason say we could raid the bar, because I need tequila if I have to share a roof with your pretty boy Rom—oh, hey Gentry.” Drew offered him a bright, full smile.

“It’s fine,” I said, unsure about which one of them I was actually talking to. I made a split decision to keep my sanity, though. Drew and Trey couldn’t share a roof without someone getting punched in the face, and I wasn’t in the mood to play referee. “Trey’s not staying.”

“Yes, I—” But when Trey tried to get in the house, I blocked him at the door.

“I keep telling you I can’t do this,” I shook my head, “but you just don’t listen. You keep thinking it’s going to be fine, like I’m going to forget what happened and we can be together and life will be grand.”

“How do you know it won’t?” he asked, crossing his arms in front of him. His eyes kept shifting to the place behind me where I knew Drew was standing. Drew was no doubt smirking and doing everything in his power to silently antagonize Trey from inside the house.

“Let’s be realistic,” I snapped. “There’s a pretty good chance I’ll be dead before the year’s out. I’ve got enough people out for my blood. Maybe they’re just toying with me now, but eventually they’ll get tired of it. Someone will make the first move. And that’ll be it.”

“Why won’t you let me help you?” he pleaded.

Why won’t you let me help myself?
I thought to myself. But maybe that was just how Trey was wired. He wanted to save me. Even if he didn’t know how, he wanted me to be okay. I couldn’t say that I wouldn’t do the same for him. I’d done it before.

But I couldn’t do this Trey’s way. He would want a solution that would keep me out of danger. He wouldn’t want me to try to aggravate the hornets’ nest any more than I already had. But Drew was a schemer. I knew he would help me figure out what to do.

It shouldn’t have felt like a choice between the two of them, but that’s what it came down to. “I’m sorry,” I said, and my stomach lurched because I couldn’t decide what I wanted more: to push him away or to pull him close. Trey didn’t react as the door slowly closed in his face.

Jade looked uncertain where she stood, casually shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “Do you want me to … ” she gestured towards the door.

I shook my head. I barely had what it took to keep my distance from Trey, I didn’t think I could stand to push the other two away. The tie around my neck was suddenly a noose, and I ripped it off with a snarl, tearing myself out my suit with a rage I hadn’t felt a moment before. Damn Trey, and damn Lucien
. Damn all of them. The cuff links that Jason had given me earlier that morning went tink-tink-tinkling away, swallowed up by the dark cherry wood floors underneath us. I think one of the buttons in my shirt followed suit.

Jade and Drew watched me cautiously through it all, not saying a word between them.

I was heaving by the time I was done, but my shirt was unbuttoned, my jacket a pool of fabric on the floor. “I need a shower,” I muttered, leaving the two of them as I headed upstairs to my bedroom.

Drew’s gleeful voice floated up from the floor below, just before I closed my door. “So if Gentry rode back with him, does that mean the little prince has to walk home?” His bellowing laughter echoed throughout the house.

A half hour later, I couldn’t get my leg to stay still. After a shower that had done little but clear the remaining alcoholic fog from my head, I’d gone downstairs and promptly devoured everything in sight. I hadn’t even realized I was hungry until after I nearly licked the first plate clean.

The
food tasted weird, bland, but my body was on autopilot and didn’t seem to care much. Drew and Jade joined me—Drew ate, while Jade just watched, alternately amused and horrified at everything we ate. There had been a spread in the kitchen that would have fed everyone at John’s memorial, but there was just us in the house. I hadn’t caught a glimpse of any of Jason’s staff, not even the grumpy, iron-haired woman who ran the household and did most of the coo
king.

Drew leaned back in his chair, the legs teetering in the air. His eyes watched my leg. “Anxious?”

I meant to deny it, meant to hide behind a lie like I always did, but I nodded.

“Come on,” he said, springing to his feet.

“Where are we going?” Jade asked, because of course she was coming with us.

“
We
are going to work out.
You
can go do your nails or something,” Drew said, dismissively. But he smirked at her while he said it, and I realized I wasn’t the only one he liked to poke at. With me, it was come-ons and flirtatious behavior. With Jade he … became a misogynist?

“Should I take my shoes off and keep to the kitchen, too?” she asked acidly. “Try that again with someone who doesn’t know how often
you
get a manicure.”

Really?
I glanced down at Drew’s hands as he scowled and shoved them into his pockets. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me towards the rear of the house, chased by the tinkling sounds of Jade’s laughter.

Before I was even out the back door, I knew that trusting Drew was a bad idea. After less than five minutes of him bobbing and weaving, slapping me on the back of the head, the anxious energy inside me wasn’t getting any better.

We hadn’t gone far, just out onto the covered patio that sat tucked between two wings of the house. Even Drew didn’t seem like he wanted to risk much more than that.

I’d been told, time and time again, that the safest place for me was inside the house. But, Jason would admit with some hesitation, as long as I stayed close to the house, I could still go outside. Not into the woods, of course—I’d seen for myself how that had worked out. Not that the house had been very safe for me last night. I’d gotten out
somehow.
Whatever Ben was doing with my blood had gotten him around all of Jason’s defenses.

It took almost ten minutes before Drew’s “exercise” started to turn around. Jade had settled into the same lounge chair that I’d woken up in this morning, and I shivered a little at the memory. Drew cuffed me before I got too bogged down by the memories of last night, but all it did was give me a focus for my anger.

I couldn’t beat Lucien. I couldn’t beat Ben. But maybe I could beat on Drew a little. Instead of trying to block his pot shots, which had been the point all along, I started taking shots of my own.

Drew barked out a laugh, just the one, but the air around us changed sharply and so did his mood. It stopped being about a little horsing around between friends, and it started being about competition. Just because Drew was stronger and faster d
idn’t mean he had the right to push me around. No one had that right. I’d meant what I said last night. I
wasn’t a victim. I wouldn’t be any more.

My muscles stretched out in relief, and I found myself moving with the same sort of heightened agility that made Drew a threat in a proper fight. My awareness of my body seemed to pull back until I was like a spectator in my own skin. It was different from the puppet master feeling I’d had last n
ight—I hadn’t been in control of anything then. But now, I was still in control, and I was also so much more
aware.

Drew landed some hits on me, blows softened so that he didn’t leave me black and blue, I’m sure, but he never caught me off guard the same way twice. The faster he moved, the more he bobbed, the more I weaved and blocked and countered him. It only seemed odd for a moment, the way
I seemed to be picking up skill quicker than I should be. Drew’s expression got more and more grim, and I stopped thinking about it at all.

It became a dance. Drew would throw a punch, I’d glide out of the way and retaliate with a jab of my own. His expression became more and more tight the longer we went on, irritation framing his face.

He bounc
ed back a couple of steps, wiping his forehead off with the back of his hand only to go suddenly still. The tension left his face and he smirked, looking somewhere over my shoulder. “Oh, hey Gentry. Got him nice and sweaty for you,” he called. I spun around, my focus crackling like a lake during spring tha
w.

But there was no sign of Trey. I started to turn back around, to ask Drew what the hell he was thinking when my legs were swept out from underneath me and I fell to the ground.