As I watched in amazement, Rafe began to age before my eyes. He was expending his energy reserves faster than any spell I’d ever seen him cast. My amazement became horror. Raphael couldn’t keep this up; it’d kill him. Yet, he seemed oblivious to the energy he was wasting. Sweat beaded up on his skin. His eyes went wild.
“Rafe…Boss! You’ve got to stop this,” I hollered.
He didn’t stop, didn’t even look at me. His eyes were focused on that damn clump of grass.
The hair on his scalp began to stand on end as if a massive charge was building up in him. A second later, I felt my own hair beginning to stand on end. The air around us began to crackle with energy and sparks darted between the lines of energy.
Uh, oh, that couldn’t be a good sign.
“Rafe!” I shouted and grabbed his arm.
He didn’t try to pull loose, but ignored my actions and my words.
“God damn it, Rafe!” I stepped in front of him and placed my hands to either side of his face. “You’ve got to stop before you kill yourself!”
His eyes were beginning to glow with power. I’d never seen that happen before and didn’t want to see it now. Even standing between him and his maniacal focus on that clump of grass didn’t faze him.
His flesh grew warm beneath my hands as his skin began to age and wrinkle. In seconds, he aged decades.
I pulled his face down to me, meeting his lips with mine. At the same time, I tried to control his emotions as he had so often controlled ours when we were training. I’d never tried it before and it showed in a lack of result. Rather my emotions were merging more and more with his.
What else would distract him? Slapping him? Kicking him in the gnads? I felt like neither would do as much as kissing him while we were meshed.
Then I had a thought.
I focused on the tattoo he had burned into his left fist. I could feel it in my mind just as if it were one of my own tattoos. With that much connection with Rafe, I just might be able to do it, but first.
With a thought, I dropped the circle that protected us.
Then I focused on Rafe’s tattoo, ordering it to life.
It glowed.
Lightning came out of the clear night sky and enveloped us in a glowing plasma of energy.
Chapter 18
alexander
“What do you mean ‘he killed my mother?’” I asked while barely able to keep my emotions in check.
Rowle leaned forward in his chair. “I wasn’t there the night your mother died. But Wanderers are capable of finding out things. I had a spy following Rafe that night and I saw the confrontation between your mother and Raphael.”
“And?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“And my spy relayed the image of Raphael running your mother through with his sword.”
I heard a grinding sound and realized it was my teeth sliding across each other. “That’s not possible. Rafe loved my mother. Tess told me.”
“But did she tell you that he had been the one to run her through? Tess is still young and impressionable, but she has cast her lot with Raphael. She would do anything he asked of her, including lying about your mother’s death.”
I stood up, knocking the chair I’d occupied over. I turned and kicked it out of my way as I stomped into my motel room’s small bath. I turned on the sink’s faucet and splashed water into my face until I thought I was awake. Staring at my reflection in the small rectangular mirror, I didn’t see the water dripping from my chin. I didn’t see anything but my own eyes, glaring back at me with a fury I’d never known before.
Without conscious thought, I slammed my right fist into the mirror, cracking it.
I walked back to where Rowle still sat. I stood, glaring at him, my hands curled into fist at my side.
He eyed me carefully, but made no comment.
“I suppose you can prove that claim,” I challenged.
Rowle stood and I had to step back to give him room. He waved a hand at the room’s nearly empty northern wall. He spoke something I couldn’t follow and then an image appeared. It took me a second to realize that it was a night scene of Raphael, Tess, myself, and my Mom. The image was strange, almost as if it were faceted. As such, I didn’t understand what I was seeing until a flaming meteor fell from the skies in front of Mom and me. The resulting explosion left my image unconscious, but I could see Mom trying to rise.
Then Raphael walked up to her with a long sword in both his hands. Without any hesitation, he ran the point of the sword completely through Mom’s chest.
I choked back a sob and turned away from the damn image. It wasn’t possible. Why would Rafe kill Mom?
I felt a hand on my shoulder and then Rowle’s voice sounded near my ear. “I’m sorry I had to show you that, Alex, but you wanted proof.”
I moaned, shaking with anger. “Why? Why would he kill her and let me live?”
“I don’t know. Wanderers are often confusing. While we understand the motivations behind our own actions, outside observers have a
