Part 34 (1/2)
Nothing is okay. I sink down on his floor, exhausted. ”I thought-” I shake my head. ”I don't know what I thought.”
Blake sits down on the floor across from me. ”I'm sorry about Austin. He turned out to be kind of okay.”
I nod. A tear sneaks out of the corner of my eye, but I wipe it away. I'm not ready to cry. I'm afraid if I start, I won't ever be able to stop.
Blake stares at the dark stains on my s.h.i.+rt. ”You need to get out of those clothes.”
I laugh. I hate myself for laughing, but there's something absurd about that statement. Maybe it's the innocence behind it, the complete lack of tension between us. I wipe my nose on a b.l.o.o.d.y sleeve, and wince at the metallic smell. ”Can I use your shower?”
I stand under the hot water until the bathroom is filled with steam, watching the water turn from red, to brown to clear again as the blood washes out of my hair. By the time I comb the last tangle out of my hair and change into a pair of Blake's sweats and a U.R.D. sweats.h.i.+rt, I can barely keep my eyes open.
I'm too tired to drive back to Austin's. I'm not ready to face his big empty house. His room. I step into Blake's room ”Is it okay if I stay here for a little while?”
Blake sits on the wood stool. He watches me as I sit down on the bed. ”What are you doing Brianna?”
”I just need a friend right now.”
Blake stands up. ”Then go find one.”
I'm frozen. My mouth opens but no words come out. Everything is a jumble of pain and grief and confusion.
”You can't just show up in my room, change into my clothes and ask to stay with me. We're not friends. I get that you're upset, but I am the one person in the world who can't help you through this. Don't you get that?”
I know he's right. Blake and I aren't friends. I don't even know what we were, let alone what we are now. ”I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I just came here to make sure you were okay.”
Blake laughs. ”So now you care about how I'm doing?”
”I saw Killian. He said that Portia-” I don't get to finish my sentence.
The door to Blake's room opens and Blake is blown against the wall along with the stool. Portia sends a flaming ball of fire at my head.
FIFTY-NINE.
I drop to the floor. Portia's fire lands on the bed, igniting the duvet. I douse it with a wall of water. Blake slides to the floor with a crash now that the wind has stopped, but Portia ignores him. Her anger is firmly directed at me. ”You didn't waste any time making your way back to Blake's bed. Your boyfriend's not even cold-”
I slap her. She comes at me with a tornado, wind that picks up everything in the room and hurls it in my direction.
I catch a vase as it whirrs next to my head.
Blake makes his way to his feet. ”Stop.”
Portia laughs. ”Or what?”
Silver light fills the room, making it hard to see at first. Then Blake appears with his sword drawn, it's tip angled at Portia's chest.
”Well?” She curls her lip. ”Man up and do this already.”
Blake swallows, withdrawing his sword. ”I don't want to kill you.”
”You don't want to love me, so you might as well kill me.” Portia sits down on the soggy, charred bed. ”My dad is dead and I did nothing to stop it. Nothing. I just froze and huddled in the corner like a baby. I hate this. I hate all of it.” She grabs a pillow. ”This has to end. Now. I am not going to sit here and have to feel your shallow heart break for this useless excuse for a bandia a second longer.”
I sense more than see the wall of fire that comes at me. I reach for water, but it's wind that flows inside me, unbidden. The wind chases the fire away, but sends it straight back to Portia.
She falls back on the bed, her chest lit with blue flame.
Blake curses as he doubles over, dropping his sword. He falls to the ground with a scream and disappears, then reappears in his pajama pants, unconscious.
I find water too late, stopping the fire only after it is has done its damage. Portia's chest is black and red and blistered. Staring at her brings a twisted sense of dej vu.
She's dead. I am a killer.
Again.
I turn away, focusing on Blake, who still lies unmoving. His heart still beats, but I hold his wrist as though every pulse will be his last.
He opens his eyes and smiles. ”Am I dreaming? I'm dreaming, right?”
I shake my head. ”She's dead.”
He scrambles to his knees. ”Did I?”
”No. I did.”
He stares at Portia's body. ”s.h.i.+t.”
”That pretty much sums it up.”
”What are we going to do?”
”Not we. Me. I killed her.”
Blake takes my hand, and I let him.
”She's really gone.” Blake says the word like he can't quite believe it. ”It's like a giant vice clamped around my heart has been released. I can breathe. G.o.d, I can feel.”
I let go of his hand. ”I'm glad you're feeling better, but you're missing something kind of important here. I just killed your girlfriend. She's lying right here.”
”She was never my girlfriend.”
Like me? I keep the words locked up tight. ”Can you stop smiling? I'm a little freaked out here.”
”Hang on. You killed her. You can save her then. Like you did me.” Blake says the words I've been avoiding since the ball of flame hit Portia in the chest. I have the necklace. I can reverse the magic that killed Portia and bring her back. It will cost me nothing.
I don't move.
”We can't trust her,” I say. ”She tried to kill me. She hates you.”
Blake finally looks shaken. ”So that's it? She's dead?”
”Mick will help us get her body out of here. We can leave it in the ocean, near the boat wreck.” The Sons' damaged boat is the cover story for Rush and Sherri and Jeremy's deaths. Their bodies won't be found, but their wrecked boat lays in pieces against the rocks.