The Bridge (28 page)

Everett clutched at the sword hand. Tears stung his eyes, streamed down his cheeks. The blade bit into his skin. It burned like a flame.

Zhell threw himself to the ground, taking Everett with him. The sword dispersed in a cloud of smoke. Everett tried to roll off, but Zhell rolled with him.

A blade bit his thigh, his arm. It took too much energy to scream.

Buzz appeared in the sky above, two clones next to him. Electricity laced their tentacles.

The clones grabbed Zhell by his arms and pulled him back. Buzz sat on his head and exploded with light. Zhell was unaffected. He ripped the clones off his arms and tore them in two with his hands. He swatted Buzz off his head.

Everett tackled Zhell’s legs. Zhell sprawled on the ground, and Buzz dropped on his face.

Zhell grabbed Buzz and lunged forward, pinning Everett to the ground. Black smoke surrounded his hand and slammed Buzz onto Everett’s chest.

Buzz screamed, and Everett was thrust into a world of pain. His vision went white.

It was the same white he had seen when he kissed Bryce. It wasn’t fair. White couldn’t belong to pleasure
and
to pain.

He dug his fingers into the ground, tearing grass. His fingers brushed wood. He beat Zhell’s chest with it. His own chest was wet. He was dying. He couldn’t give up.

He beat Zhell until blood covered his hand and chest. He dropped the wood, which was the dagger the collapsed witch had dropped.

“You go with me.” Zhell’s throat gurgled with blood.

Something punched Everett in the stomach. Blood sprayed from his mouth. He tried to open his eyes. But they were already open, and he was blind with pain.

He tried to heal himself, but he had no energy. Buzz and the collapsed witch had none to offer. Zhell’s energy was untouchable.

“Buzz?”

He dug his fingers into the ground and sucked in the energy of the cotton grass he touched. It was wild and uncontrollable. The energy slipped through his grasp, and the grass withered to cotton strings.

“Buzz?”

The weight on his chest disappeared. Someone laughed through a mouthful of blood. Flesh tore with the same sound of fabric.

“Hey,
hey!
Everett!”

Everett fell, tossing and turning into a cold world of white.

“Bryce?” he tried to say, but he was fading and all he could manage was a shaky exhale.

IN THE
void of white was Buzz’s glowing presence. It blanketed Everett’s consciousness in a sheet of care and concern.

“We have to put you out for a bit. It’ll help you heal,”
Buzz said.

Everett couldn’t answer. He floated in the void and wrapped the warmth into a cocoon.

“You’re in a special hospital room staffed by witches. You’ll heal better under their care. Zhell’s dagger was laced with poison that has to run its course. All you need to do is be unconscious.

“You’ll be glad to know Omar is alive. So are the other hostages. Zhell is dead. Bryce saw to that. Speaking of Bryce, he wants to chat with you before the doctors kick us out.”

Everett had no body to tense in anticipation for Bryce’s soothing, deep voice.
“Hey, Everett? You’re going to be fine. They say you might be out for a week or two. A month at the most.

“Don’t worry about Zhell. I killed him. I don’t remember killing him. I was fully shifted. It probably had something to do with that. We lost a lot of witches, none of whom I knew, or who you knew. We lost Sunny, Jake, and Lena to the demons.”

“They’re not
dead
,”
Buzz said quickly.

Bryce yelped. Buzz probably had slapped him.

“They’re somewhere in the In Between,”
Bryce corrected.
“I don’t know if we’re going to go after them. The Order is still deciding.”

“Bryce, we have to go soon,”
Buzz said.

“I gotta make this quick. Everett, I really like you. You deserve to know that. And I really like your new haircut. Long or short, you look great. That actually reminds me of the first time I saw you. I loved your hair. Really loved it. You looked like an elf. The majestic fantasy kind of elf. You know what I mean?

“I kissed you. I don’t know if you felt it. I hope you did. I’ll see you later, when you wake.”

The void flashed with a white so brilliant, Everett saw darkness.

EVERETT FLOATED
in the void for hours, days—he couldn’t tell. And then he felt warmth and his grandfather’s presence. His grandfather said nothing, but nothing was enough. He was there, and that was all Everett needed.

Everett was sorry. Sorry for making them sell the house and move to the shop. Sorry for aging his grandfather with worries. Sorry for lying.

“I’m proud of you,”
his grandfather said, and Everett didn’t deserve the praise, but his grandfather deserved to be right, so he stopped feeling sorry.

A PRETTY
woman with a waterfall of black hair sat in front of the fireplace of Everett’s old house, warming her hands in front of the fire. A plate of graham crackers, a stick, and jumbo marshmallows sat next to her.

Buzz perched on her shoulder.
“He has no energy.”

The woman pierced the stick through a marshmallow.

“I can help him.”

“How?” The woman’s voice was smooth like silk ribbons, swirling in Everett’s ear as he watched the scene through Buzz’s eye.

“Through our bond, I can provide energy.”

“He will grow dependent on you.”

Buzz hovered in front of the fireplace. He warmed his tentacles as the woman put the marshmallow in front of the fire.

“Just a little energy. Enough to think he has a small pool. He deserves to grow as a witch, however little energy he has.”

“He can live as a normal human child.”

“And when he discovers he is a Bridge Master?”

The woman slipped the marshmallow between two graham crackers.

FOUR-YEAR-OLD EVERETT
sat on his bed and flipped through the kiddie book his grandfather had given him. He accidently tore a page and began to snivel. Buzz, who little Everett couldn’t see, released a thick stream of energy.

Everett naturally soaked it up and with the salt in his tears, mended the torn page. His eyes bugged and he blubbered. “Mommy! Mommy!” he shouted.

Buzz sat on Everett’s bedframe. Everett’s mother sprinted in, her face paper white.

“Don’t worry,”
Buzz said.

Buzz’s eyes were dry, but older Everett wanted to cry as he sat in Buzz’s body watching his past play out.

“I glued it!” Everett held the book up. It was too heavy to hold for long, so it slipped and fell on his lap.

“That’s wonderful!” Everett’s mother didn’t look completely happy, but Everett clapped his hands, and she smiled brighter.

A man with a day’s worth of stubble came in. “Did something happen?” he asked.

Everett’s mother nodded, her black curls bouncing like spirals. “Honey, Everett cast his first spell!”

“Oh, Sprout! You’re growing up!” Everett’s father squatted in front of the bed and held a hand out. “High five!”

“I don’t get one? I taught him that,”
Buzz said.

Everett’s father high-fived Buzz, and Everett watched his father with confused eyes.

“DON’T GIVE
him too much energy,” Everett’s father warned, angrily stirring sugar cubes into his coffee.

“I’m only giving him a smidgen. He’ll learn to use the little energy he can,”
Buzz said. He sat on the counter while Everett’s father scoffed and stirred harder.

“Then he’ll learn to steal energy from other witches and spirits. Even humans.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

There was more, but the kitchen faded to bright white.

“AND… THE
prince is awake,” a man was saying, singsong.

Everett blinked against blinding lights. His parents’ voices and faces echoed in his mind. He closed his eyes and recalled his mother’s curly black hair, his father’s bright blue eyes, and their unconditional love.

“Give him a moment,” a woman said, her voice far off but her body inches away.

“Mom. Dad.” Everett reached for the lights, but something was strapping his arms down.

A hand feathered over his arm, pushing it down. The woman smiled down at him, her red hair pulled into a bulbous bun that reminded Everett of Buzz. “We don’t want any trauma. Stay still and you’ll be out in a short while.”

“Buzz?” Everett whispered.

“He’ll be here soon. Your boyfriend too.” The woman patted his forehead with a soft cloth.

“Did you send that? The memories?”
Everett asked.

“You deserve to know. Your parents loved you very much.”

“Where are you?”

“Right here.”
Buzz floated above his face, blocking the hospital light above him.

Everett closed his eyes and tuned the man and woman out, turning all his attention to the warm jellyfish curling on his forehead.

“All those spells I cast….”

“After you used up my energy, you stole energy from the nearest bodies.”

“And Zhell?”

“He had a block too thick for you to break.”

Everett’s arms were freed of their restraints, and he was allowed to sit up. He was in a small hospital room that looked nothing out of the ordinary until he saw the brews and spell book sitting next to the sink.

Someone knocked on the door. The woman opened it, and Bryce came in with a bouquet of red roses. He was dressed in a tuxedo and his hair was gelled back.

“You look good,” Everett said, his heart thumping faster.

Bryce rubbed a hand over the hard shell of his hair. “My sister made me do it.”

The woman smiled. “We’ll give you a moment.”

“No excessive movements,” the man said sternly. Then he smiled and left after the woman.

Bryce watched them in disbelief. “So….” He looked lost. “That just happened.”

Everett chuckled. “Witch doctors are easier going than human doctors. From my limited experience with witch doctors.”

Bryce put the bouquet on the visitor’s chair and rolled the doctor’s stool to Everett’s hospital bed. He laced his fingers on his lap and smiled thoughtfully at them, then looked up.

“My family likes you. Melinda doesn’t seem to, but she does. She’s just protective. Julianna loves you, especially since you did all that badass stuff with the demons. And my dad….” Bryce dug a finger into his hair and scratched. “… he does like you. He’s just blaming you for what I did. I wasn’t supposed to get involved.”

“Your dad has issues,”
Buzz said.

Bryce plucked Buzz off Everett and tossed him over his shoulder.

“Rude!”
Buzz shouted.

“
You’re
rude. Give me a moment here.” Bryce smiled and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”
Buzz crossed his tentacles and sat on the spell book.

Bryce flipped Buzz off and turned to Everett with a lopsided smile that complimented the random strand of hair that poked up from his gelled hair. It was stubborn and didn’t stay down when Everett flattened it.

“We should go out again,” Everett said, sliding his hand to Bryce’s chin.

“Totally.” Bryce leaned forward and kissed Everett at the same time someone knocked.

The doctors returned with Everett’s grandfather. He was healthier than Everett ever remembered.

“Do you want time alone?” Bryce asked, already standing.

Everett’s grandfather shook his head and with speed uncharacteristic of a seventy-year-old, crossed the room and hugged Everett.

Everett cried without warning. His grandfather pulled Bryce into the hug. Buzz floated over and sat on Bryce’s head.

“I’m so proud of you,” his grandfather said. “Both of you.”

“My wounds,” Everett hissed.

His grandfather and Bryce nearly flew off him.

“They’re healed,” the male doctor said, “but as I said earlier, no excessive movements.”

“Yeah, yeah. We got that the first time,” Bryce said, giving the male doctor a dark look.

“How long have I been out?” Everett asked.

“A few days,” the female doctor said. “Dozens of witches visited to offer energy to speed your healing process.”

“The poison?”

“All gone. You should be out of here today.”

“We should eat out and celebrate,” Bryce said.

“Meat house?”
Buzz laughed.

Everett didn’t get the joke until Bryce laughed.

A month later

BRYCE CLIMBED
the hood of his car to sit next to Everett as they watched the sun set over Ashville. They had found this scenic point in the woods when Everett was drunk, but it had been too dark to see the woods stretched ahead of them, teeming with paranormal life.

Bryce said, “I just got a text from my dad that the Order is trying to come up with a more creative name for the battle. They don’t like the Battle of 2015, but they don’t like the Defeat of Tyrannical Purgatory either.
I
thought it was pretty creative.”

“It wasn’t
that
epic. They’ll probably call it something as low-key as Betrayal of the Seventies.” Everett absently touched his abdomen and stroked the raised bumps of his battle scars.

“Compared to human history, it wasn’t a big deal, but in paranormal history, it’s going down.” Bryce nipped Everett’s ear. “Just like I’m going down on you tonight.”

Everett moaned and covered his face with his hands. His blush was more obvious without hair covering his neck.