Emily and Andy were still fast asleep, curled up in each other’s arms, when Jones went into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a lock of Emily’s dark hair away from her face, then gently stroked Andy’s hair as well. They were both so pale and grief had prematurely aged their faces, though sleep had smoothed the lines out somewhat.
He watched them sleep for a few minutes, relaxing a little in the quiet as he listened to their steady deep breathing. He purposely didn’t think about Andraeon or what Andraeon was doing, trying to just keep his mind blank. After a little while he kissed Emily’s forehead and started to get up to go find Kaede and get something to eat. Instinct warned him an instant too late and something caught him hard across the jaw even as he was trying to duck, sending him to his knees on the floor. Dazed and tasting blood in his mouth, he looked up and met Aloria’s mismatched eyes.
“You’ve got two choices, Jones,” she said quietly. “Come with me now or I will kill those children in their bed. Don’t even think about trying to get Kaede to help you. She’s fast but I’m faster. Now get up.”
He could see in her eyes that she was deadly serious. Cautiously he pushed himself to his feet, swallowing the blood in his mouth, and held his hands up to show they were empty. Her eyes flicked towards Emily and Andy, and he tensed his muscles to launch himself at her, but she only grabbed his arm and dragged him from the bedroom to a room he didn’t recognize, in a dark house that smelled of dust and age.
Jerking his arm free, he took a swing at her, only to have his fist caught. She laughed, though it was an angry sound, and shoved him back with incredible strength, so hard he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his ass. Her smile widened and she reached down to grab the front of his shirt, obviously meaning to haul him up again. He grabbed her wrist instead, squeezing the delicate bones as hard as he could, until Aloria was forced to release his shirt as her fingers went numb. She slapped him with her other hand, splitting his lip open again, and rocking his head to the side.
He ducked the next blow, sweeping her feet out from under her so she landed on the dusty tiled floor with a thump. A distant part of his mind noted that he was already breathing hard; he was still weak and tired, his body having had no chance to recover from all the battering it had taken in the past few weeks. Even as he thought it he was a little too slow to avoid her kicking out at him and her heel caught him in the stomach, driving the air out of him. He doubled over with a grunt of pain and she slammed her knee into his nose, breaking it with an audible crack. Blood washed over his mouth and chin, and tears of pain half-blinded him.
Invisible bonds wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides, and he found himself dragged up onto his knees. He struggled but the bindings around him felt as hard as steel and dug painfully into his flesh the harder he fought to free himself. Eventually he gave up, panting for breath through his mouth and trying not to swallow blood from his busted nose, and glared up at Aloria.
“I kind of admire you, Jonesy,” she said, rubbing at her wrist. He could see bruises marking her pale skin even in the shadows. “Compared to us you’re about as strong as a kitten, but you keep fighting. I really shouldn’t have let you slip through my fingers.”
He said nothing, watching her warily and listening for any noise in the rest of the house. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness and he could see a tall fridge behind Aloria, and kitty-corner to it was a heavy gas-range stove. There was a doorway at either end, one likely leading to another room; there was just enough light at the other to show part of a hallway. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a curtained window over the sink and a part of his brain marked it as an escape route.
“None of us expected that you’d actually amount to anything,” Aloria continued. “You were an obnoxious brat as a teenager, hard to control and even harder to get to actually do anything. You wanted to be the strongest but you never wanted to work for it. And you showed no signs that what we’d given you even worked.”
“What did you give me?” he asked.
“Drae’s blood. Probably why you react so strongly to him. A little bit of him is inside you, and there’s even more in Emily. It’s going to be a shame to lose her as well.”
“You’re not touching her again,” he growled, though his voice sounded hollow to his own ears. “I will kill you.”
“I’m not going to bother, at least not directly. She’s going to self-destruct long before she gets old enough to learn to deal with her strength. Especially when she loses her remaining parent. You can take a hell of a lot of damage but you’re not invincible and you’re not immortal.” She smiled at him then tilted her head slightly as the clear sound of the front door opening. “And there’s the last actor in our little play.”
He struggled to get up even with his arms pinned against his side but he couldn’t even move; and when he tried to yell a warning he found his voice was gone. He could only glare mutely up at Aloria, who smiled serenely at him. Outside in the hallway Andraeon’s familiar power began to build up, enough to make Jones feel dizzy and sick, and bring fresh blood gushing from his nose. There was a series of dull bangs from the hall and a moment later Jones distinctly heard Shasta yelling, “Wait, Drae, we need to stick together! I can’t protect Shiki and fight kimla at the same time, damn you.”
If Andraeon replied Jones didn’t hear it; instead he heard rapid footsteps and then Andraeon appeared in the bit of light coming from the door to the hallway. He stopped when he saw Jones and his expression changed to one of wary fear when he looked up at Aloria. For a moment Jones felt the power surge and darkness danced across his vision, then Andraeon pulled it back and faced Aloria without it.
“Let him go. Please. You want me to come with you, fine.” Andraeon glanced anxiously at Jones then back up to Aloria. “Just let him go.”
“Do I look stupid to you, Drae? He walks out of here and you’ve got no reason to hold back. And even if you do keep up your end of the deal and come with me, I don’t want you anymore. You had that chance and you said no.”
“You’re not immortal.” Andraeon put a hand to his hip and pulled a gun loose from its holster. He took the stance Jones had shown him, holding the gun steady with its muzzle pointed at Aloria’s heart.
“Do you even know how to use that thing?” Aloria asked, her voice amused.
“Jones showed me. Let him go. I can shoot faster than you can stop me.” Andraeon’s eyes flicked briefly back to Jones but he looked away again before Jones could even attempt to mouth ‘stop’ at him. Desperately Jones fought to free himself again, struggling against the bonds so hard the muscles stood out in his arms.
“Did he?” Aloria asked sweetly, taking a step forward. “Did he also teach you how easy it is to disarm a total beginner like you? Maybe he should have concentrated on taking those cuffs off you.”
Andraeon’s eyes widened and Jones saw his finger tighten on the trigger; but before he could fire, the runes on his cuffs began to glow in response to Aloria’s voice. Desperation flashed across his face and Jones fought to stay conscious as power flowed over him, enough to crack the cuff on Andraeon’s left wrist. Before he could do the same to the right, Aloria shoved his arm up and elbowed him in the stomach, doubling him over. She yanked the gun from his hand and turned it on him even as he was trying to straighten up, pulling the trigger twice in quick succession.
The first bullet hit Andraeon high in the center of his chest, just under the line of his collarbone, and knocked him back a step. The second smashed into the left side of his chest, spinning him partially around. Jones watched in horror as he took a single stiff-legged step then collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Blood quickly turned his grey shirt a dark, dull red and stretched crimson fingers out across the tile, cutting channels through the dust.
Aloria stood watching it for a few moments, then turned back to Jones and almost gently pressed the muzzle of the gun against his forehead. He glared up at her, afraid and fighting not to show it. She stroked his hair with her other hand and pulled the trigger.
The gun only clicked and he saw her eyes widen in surprise, then he was already moving, throwing himself to the side. The bonds holding his arms to his sides had vanished and he caught himself with his hands, already scrambling to his feet. He saw movement coming from the hallway and Shasta appeared, throwing himself at Aloria and sending them both through the gate that had sprung up behind her. A wisp of fog drifted through into the kitchen then the gate snapped shut again.
Jones spared it just enough of a glance to make sure it was completely gone, then headed for Andraeon, who still lay motionless where he’d fallen. Jones’s hands trembled as he reached out to gently turn Andraeon from his side onto his back, cradling him with one arm. Andraeon’s eyes were open but dazed and though he still breathed, it was rapid and uneven. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and Jones could feel it sticky and warm against his hands, quickly soaking into his clothes.
“Drae.” His voice hitched and he fought to keep the sinking feeling in his belly out of his words. “Can you hear me? Look at me.”
He saw Andraeon struggle to focus on him, the corner of his mouth curving up in a faint smile. Blood had painted his lips candy-red and Jones could hear his uneven breath whistling in his damaged chest. When he tried to speak he only coughed up more blood. Jones took his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly, barely aware that he was crying. He felt Andraeon squeeze back, the barest pressure against his fingers, then his gaze went distant. His torn chest fell one last time and didn't rise again.
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