on the issue. He was outnumbered. He needed to act.
He twitched his hand and Andronika flew into his arm. He pinned her to his side and flashed outside the crevice, drawing Cassandra out.
She appeared several paces in front of him. He threw a fireball out of his free hand. She dodged it. With a tight grimace on her face, she threw her hand up, her palm face out at him.
Jordan tried to lift his own hand, but he couldn’t move. What had she done to him? She held him in some kind of invisible grip, paralyzing him like a statue. Only his eyes could move as Andronika wiggled out of his stiff arm and ran behind Cassandra.
“We don’t have to do this,” Cassandra said. “We don’t have to fight each other.”
“No, we don’t,” he answered with a thought, unable to move his lips. “We can fight with each other instead of against each other.”
That’s right.
“You and I together, little sister. We can do this.”
Cassandra nodded. But he knew she wouldn’t agree so easily, that she hadn’t had a change of heart. What was she up to?
I can help you, she told him and she lifted her other hand. A low hum of goodness pulsed from her palm, licking fire at his skin.
He wanted to laugh. His eyes narrowed. “Never. You come to my side, little sister. You can’t beat me.”
He flexed his own internal power, pushing back against her hold. Her hand began to tremble. He moved again. Her paralyzing power strengthened, but only for a moment. He broke free. His arm shot up, his palm held out toward her. The corners of his mouth lifted. He began to twist his hand.
Someone screamed.
And a blue streak of light hit Jordan in the chest.
He flew high into the air, far above Cassandra’s head and then slammed back down to the earth. The air flew out of his lungs. Blackness flashed over his vision. What just happened? He lay still on the ground. His eyes blinked at his attacker. Inga?
“I’m not as weak as you thought,” she said.
“No,” Cassandra screamed, appearing at his side. She fell next to him and scooped her arm under his shoulders, cradling his head in her lap. “No, no, no.”
His vision went black.
But only for a moment. A bright light shone in his eyes, blurry and vague at first, but then it sharpened into an image. Although he hadn’t moved, knew he wasn’t in the real world, he suddenly stood face-to-face with Father. Father, with pants covering his legs, his bare torso crisscrossed with belts holding various weapons and wings rising from his back. Not thin and black, but white and feathered. Father opened his mouth to speak but a screeching sound drowned out any words he might have said. Then he was gone.
Jordan was back in his body. His eyes blinked open.
“Oh, Jordan,” Cassandra cried. “You’re alive!”
She still held his head in her lap, tears streaming down her face. She’d actually cried for him? She still cared for him, after all he’d done to her? And when she had been right all along.
“You … ” He gasped. How can I feel so much pain? I’m supposed to be invincible. But he could hardly even speak.
She leaned closer to hear him.
“You … were right … little sister,” he whispered. “About Father.”
“Yes, Jordan. I know. And about us.”
“No. Just about you.” He coughed and she pulled back.
“You, too, Jordan. You—”
He had to make her understand just as he did now. “No, not me. You were always the good one. But not me.”
“It’s not too late for you. You can still join us.”
He didn’t know whether to laugh or frown at her optimism, at her unconditional love. Love—he realized now there was truth in the word. Father and Mother had loved him. Cassandra still did. Even Eris had felt it for him, he realized now. Perhaps he had even felt it for her. And the pain of not returning it for Inga—of his rejection of her love—had led him to this. The word he’d dismissed as useless actually held the most power of all.
How ironic that he’d been seeking revenge against all who had rejected him, while rejecting those who’d actually accepted him.
He’d been wrong about so many things.
He shook his head in her lap. “It’s too late for me. It is.”
“No, Jordan. I can help you.”
Can’t she see the real me? What I truly am?
He could feel her power growing, the goodness building within her so she could push it into him. His appreciation for her hope disappeared, replaced at first by fear that she would use her goodness on him and then by anger that he actually feared her.
The anger exploded. Hot, boiling in his stomach and chest. Strengthening him again.
He’d been right about one thing. Love deceived those who felt it, weakening them. The real supremacy came to those who didn’t feel it, empowering them with a weapon against the ones who loved them.
He had no such weakness. He wielded the weapon.
“You can’t,” he growled. “My soul is gone, little sister. You can’t save it. I’ve made my choice!”
Releasing his control, evil energy shot out of his body. Cassandra soared back several paces. Jordan sprang to his feet and charged at her. Too fast for her to react, his hands gripped her throat and lifted her in the air.
Chapter 21
Cassandra couldn’t breathe. Her throat constricted and her tongue felt as though it’d grown twice its size, choking her.
Jordan, stop! I can help you!
“I DON’T WANT YOUR HELP!” he bellowed out loud and his hands tightened.
Her chest contracted painfully as her lungs fought for air. She thought her eyes would bulge out of their sockets. Lights popped in front of her. The edges of her vision swam.
Please, Jordan.
Her brother only growled in response.
“Cassandra! Here!”
She didn’t know whose voice it was. She didn’t know what came flying at her. But her hand reached out instinctively. Her palm wrapped around the object and she knew immediately what it was. Her hilt. Her dagger. The one Father had given her, specially made by his Angel hands. A grand weapon and possibly the only thing that could kill Jordan. If she could bring herself to use it.
How can I kill him? He’s still my brother!
Tears stung her eyes, from the physical pain at her throat and the emotional pain at the thought of taking a life. Especially her own kin’s. There had to be some other way, but she could think of none, except to let him kill her. Let him have the burden of murdering his sister. As he tightened his hold on her throat, she thought she had no choice but to let him. Her strength was drained. All her energy poured from her being as he choked the life out of her.
She looked for Father and thought she saw him through the shimmering veil. She wondered what it meant that she could see him—that she could see to the Otherworld. Was she dying? Was she already dead? And why wasn’t he fighting? Why was there no demon?
“Your soul is already ours. The demons have no reason to fight me for it. You must fight for your life.”
She had nothing left in her to fight with, though. The grayed edges of her vision pushed inward. Her lungs had already ceased trying to inflate and they collapsed in her chest. It was only a matter of seconds. I’m … sorry,
