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“Choose, Viola. You can save your friend by coming with me. Choose. Tulip or being the vessel. Me or Mace.”
Chapter 51
Mace
Ihearthecommotionin the garrison and leave Stone to his moon math, rushing towards it just in time to see poor Tulip tied and crying, a casualty of Zeph’s obsession with Viola. Zeph cannot see me from my position within a shadowed tunnel, but Viola does. Her eyes are wide with fear, pleading with me to help her. Raising my finger to my mouth, I urge her to keep silent about my arrival.
I no longer recognize my brother. The boy I used to read stories to and held when our parents died is gone. In his place stands an angry, volatile fae man whose driving force is to strong-arm Viola into acquiescing to his demands.
Zeph continues begging Viola to make choices she should never be asked to make. “Viola, it’s easy. You come with me, I leave Tulip to Mace, and you and I can live together happily for all our years.” His eyes are wet, and he takes a staggering step towards her, leaving Tulip to slump against the wall to remain upright. “Why can’t you see that we’re perfect for each other? I am the light to your dark, the fire to your ice. It was written in the stars, Viola.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Zeph,” she says measuredly. The look on her face and the timber of her voice take me back to watching her in the cave with Amio. The stricken expression on his face makes me sure Zeph recognizes it, too. I bet he never expected to be on the receiving end of that ire.
“Zeph, please see reason. You can’t force a connection. It’s not something you can will into existence,” Plume says softly.
His eyes whip to his oldest friend. “This is none of your concern, Plume. Of course, you would take his side. What, because I wouldn’t fuck you, you went and got it from Mace?”
Plume’s lip curls up, and she bares her teeth, a sign of aggression I’ve never seen from her before. “I never wanted you, Zeph. Never. I don’t want to lay with anyone. I’m happy on my own. You’re the one always trying to take it further after a few drinks!”
My brother’s laugh is haunted, and while I’ve seen aggression from him all my life, this is something else entirely. His brain has been poisoned by jealousy.
I’m slowly lining up my positioning to clearly see him and begin setting my intentions for an attack I wish I did not have to make.
“Zeph.” Viola’s voice is so soft I almost miss it, breaking my concentration momentarily. “Zeph, what happened between Mace and I… Well, I’m sorry you had to see it. I’m not sorry it happened, though.” Hearing her say that makes my heart swell, confirmation I didn’t know I needed.
“Why him, Viola? Why him and not me?” Zeph is desperate and sad, a man at the end of his rope. Viola is nothing if not clever, though, and moves towards him with soft feet, hands up in submission. Despite how angry at her he is, there is still affection, and she seems desperate to use it to keep Tulip safe.
“I can’t explain it, Zeph. There aren’t instructions for what I’ve gone through since the Race started. You have been nothing but kind to me since I came here, and you deserve happiness. It’s just not with me.”
Her words strike him in the chest, and he doubles over, a wail of anguish on his lips.
Yanking a bound Tulip to rest her back on his chest, he pulls a blade from his pocket and holds it to her neck. The anguish from moments before is gone, replaced by red hot rage.
“You and I were meant for each other, but if you can’t see that, I will have to make you see it. You seem to favor blades, right Viola? Seems only fitting that your friend falls by one,” Zeph snarls. I move to rush him, but Viola gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
She takes several more slow steps to Zeph, softening her gaze. “Zeph, you’re right. I didn’t see it until just now. How have you never held a blade before me? You know how much I like them…” Her voice is seductive and low, and I do not recognize this woman at all. Zeph doesn’t notice how wholly unnatural this version of Viola is. “I’m a fool. I should have realized it before. Put Tulip down, and let’s get out of here.” His shoulders sag, and his arms drop, Tulip tumbling to the ground.
“Thank the Gods, Viola. I can’t lose you.” He rushes her, gathering her in his arms. He grabs her cheeks and places a bruising kiss on her lips.
The magic within my veins roars, jealous at his hands upon Viola, but I tamper it down, knowing she can handle herself and that my feelings of his assault on her mouth are not the priority.
She throws her hands around his neck, leaning into his kiss while she slowly turns his back towards me with the movement. She breaks her mouth away from him, but there is no light in her eyes when she does. He doesn’t notice, trailing a hand down her face. “I have longed for this moment, Viola. More than you could ever know. I am so glad you came around.”
Tulip, the shock of the situation having worn off some, does her best to crawl away from the duo towards the table in the middle of the garrison, her bound hands requiring her to drag herself with her elbows. Zeph doesn’t notice, his gaze trained solely on Viola.
Her voice possesses a gentleness I haven’t heard from her yet when she says, “I know you have, Zeph. I know how much you care for me. I was just too blind to see it.” Over his shoulder, Viola locks eyes with me and nods.
I draw the ore that sparkles in the cave walls around us to float in the air around us, melting and molding into chains before my eyes. Too infatuated with Viola to notice, Zeph is blind to my actions until it’s too late, and the chains drop around him. As soon as they do, Viola jumps out of his arms with a sneer. “You bitch!” he screams at her.
She shrugs, spitting on the floor and then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “How could you think, after all you know about me, I would take threats and someone trying to force me to be with them positively? You’re delusional, Zeph.”
Zeph tries to fight and bring forth fire to melt the chains, but Plume has been working quietly to bring forth vines, and she wraps him in the bright green and flowered plants. With Tulip removed from Zeph’s crazed grasp, we can unleash our magic without fear of her becoming collateral damage.
“You’re my friend, Plume!” Zeph roars.
“I was. I am. But this is not right, and you need help. This is for your own good.”
To add insult to injury, I infuse Plume’s vines with decay, turning the beautiful flowers dank with blight. The decay from the vines sinks into Zeph’s skin, and while it is not enough to kill him, he slumps to the ground, face pallid and skin covered in a sheen of sweat, unable to fight as his magic leeches from him.
