Threads That Bind (Havoc Chronicles Series Book 1) (16 page)

“And my point is that we have no one to share our experiences with,” said Rhys. He had released my hand while Eric was talking and was now staring into his milk carton. He seemed far away, as if he weren’t really with us. “The joy of life is not in the experience itself, but sharing that experience with those you love. When those you love are dead, all that remains are those you are bound to by duty.”

And so it went on for the rest of lunch, the two of them arguing back and forth, and I got the impression that this wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion. The interesting thing was that they really had the same basic premise – being a Berserker was a huge sacrifice – but their reactions to it were different.

As for me, listening to them completely jumbled my emotions. I felt as though I been thrown off a cliff and was plummeting downward with no idea what was below me or when the ride was going to stop. All I knew was that it would have to stop eventually, and I was afraid it would end with a very messy splat.

After lunch Eric and Rhys escorted me to Precalc, neither of them seeming to want to let the other one be alone with me. Eric in particular seemed to be vying for my attention. He placed himself between Rhys and me whenever possible, and was very adept at focusing the conversation between the two of us, excluding Rhys.

After that brief moment when he held my hand, Rhys had avoided physical contact. It must have simply been a comforting gesture without any significance beyond that. This theory was supported by the fact that he didn’t compete with Eric for my attention. He simply stayed by us while Eric directed the conversation.

When Gym finally came around, I was glad to be away from the two of them. I really liked being with each of them individually, but this whole situation was getting strange. The tension between them was putting me on edge.

Amy had already changed by the time I entered the locker room. She had an excited look on her face, as if barely contained gossip was about to break forth in a torrent of who-likes-who and did-you-see-what-she-was-wearing.

“So,” she said. “Are the rumors true?”

I opened my locker. “You’re going to have to get a bit more specific than that, Amy,” I said.

 Amy put her hands on her hips. “Don’t play coy with me, Madison. Come on, is it true that Eric and Rhys have been walking you to classes?”

Just what I needed, more people talking about me. Didn’t anyone have a life of their own around here?

Instead of answering right away, I pulled my clothes out of my gym bag. I needed to be careful. Amy was way too perceptive and she had already picked up on my interest in them earlier.

“Come on,” said Amy, leaning against the lockers.
“You’re killing me!”

I sighed.
“Yes, they walked me to my classes.”

Amy began bouncing in excitement. “And?”

“There’s no ‘and’,” I said. “We’re just friends.”

Amy narrowed her eyes. “Madison, it’s me. Come on.”

“You’re reaching, Amy.” I continued changing.

Amy grilled me for the next five minutes, trying to ferret out a confession of undying love for Rhys or Eric, or both. When the tough-girl approach didn’t work, she switched tactics and tried pouting and guilt. No matter what I said, she wouldn’t believe that I wasn’t hiding a secret relationship.

I was relieved when class started, and Amy and I were separated. We had more basketball on the agenda, and thankfully Mrs. Herst made sure that Ginger and I were on separate courts. Ginger was sporting a large, strangely-patterned bruise on her forehead, but didn’t appear to be suffering any complications from yesterday’s basketball game.

Given recent events, I thought she would be nastier than ever, but it didn’t seem to be playing out that way. She had completely ignored me all day, which I considered a huge improvement. I did catch her glaring at me a few times during class, but she appeared to be more wary of me than vengeful. Apparently yesterday had made more of an impression than just the one on her forehead.

After gym class, Amy resumed her inquisition right where she had left off. There was no hope of calling her off until she got what she wanted. She followed me to my locker, unwilling to accept that I wasn’t concealing crucial information.

She was actually right: I was holding back information, but not the kind she was expecting, or that I could tell her. 

While I was pulling my things out of my locker, Rhys approached and hovered a short distance away, apparently unwilling to interrupt my conversation with Amy. She noticed him before I did and subtly signaled me, closely watching my reaction.

I carefully kept any sign of giddy excitement off of my face, which wasn’t actually that difficult. Yes, Rhys and Eric were cute – cuter than Josh, even – but they didn’t give me the same giddy, brain-melting paralysis that Josh did. It just wasn’t the same kind of relationship. I pushed away the thought of Rhys putting his hand on mine during lunch.

It was completely different.     

Amy motioned for me to go talk with Rhys, so I waved him over. “Rhys, this is my good friend, Amy. Amy, Rhys.”

Perhaps
I
didn’t get brain-melting paralysis around Rhys and Eric, but Amy did. She looked at Rhys with this strange simpering look on her face, giving off helpless-maiden-waiting-to-be-rescued vibes. Amy? My Machiavelli of relationships and all things dating related?

Rhys had clearly picked up on the vibes and looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Uh, nice to meet you,” he said.

Amy didn’t appear to have heard. She continued to stare adoringly at him, a lovesick puppy looking for a home. I nudged her with my elbow, jarring her back to her senses. She blushed a crimson red, a shade of color I hadn’t ever seen on her before. 

“Yeah, very nice to meet you,” she mumbled. “I’ll see you later, Madison,” she said and practically ran down the hall.

What had gotten into her? If I didn’t know that she was still smitten with Cory I would have thought she was interested in Rhys.

 “Do you get that sort of reaction a lot?” I asked.

Rhys shook his head. “Eric’s the ladies man.”

“Speaking of which,’ I said, “where is he?” I hadn’t seen him since Precalc. 

Rhys shrugged. “I’m not sure. But knowing Eric he won’t be far.”

We walked through the hallways without any sign of him. We didn’t spot him until we reached the parking lot.

The Mercedes was gone. In its place was a gleaming blue Jetta identical to the one Osadyn had crushed. Eric lounged lazily on the hood, tying to appear nonchalant – but he looked over at us too many times for me to buy his cool act.

I laughed and ran over to him. “How did you get the car so quickly?”

“I have some connections,” he said, and hopped to the ground. “No big deal.”

“Maybe not to you, but this will save me hours of parental guilt lectures.” I gave him a big hug.

By this time Rhys had caught up. His expression was hard to read – a strange mixture of happiness and fury. He was smiling, but it was a tight, not-so-happy smile. The smile of a person pretending – badly, I might add – to be happy. Clearly he was upset at what Eric had done.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said. When I looked into his eyes, I no longer saw anything below the surface. The deep pools I had gazed into had become shallow puddles, cutting me off from his thoughts.

“Come on, Madison,” said Eric, opening the driver’s side door for me. “Let’s test it out.”

I slid into the driver’s seat and Eric into the front passenger seat. Rhys didn’t move. He remained where he was, his hands thrust into his pockets. His conflicted expression had given way to a more serious, contemplative look.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

“No,” he said. Then with an obvious effort he produced a genuine smile. The kind of smile that I could stare at for hours. “You two have fun.” He turned to Eric. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

Eric waved as we pulled out of the parking lot. “Tell Kara not to wait up for me,” he yelled out the window.

Pulling onto the street, I picked a direction and started driving. The car was in perfect working order, but it lacked the acceleration power of the Mercedes. It was brand new and still had that new car smell, something that my mom’s Jetta had lost some time ago. “Where to,” I asked?

 “Let’s go to your house,” Eric said. “I want to make sure this car is acceptable to your parents.”

“Really?” I said. “My house?” That wasn’t exactly what I had planned on doing, but it made a twisted sort of sense, and would probably spare me the Spanish Inquisition later.

When we pulled into the driveway, my dad’s truck was there.

“It looks like my dad’s home,” I said.

“Good,” said Eric. “I want to meet him.”

I hesitated. “I’m not so sure if that’s such a good idea,” I said. “He already thinks you have some nefarious plan to seduce me.”

Eric got out of the car and came around to open my door. “Your father sounds like a smart man,” he said. “I wouldn’t trust me, either.”

I was about to ask him what that comment was supposed to mean, but he was already walking to the front door. I hurried to catch up - there was no way I was going to let him meet my dad without some backup. Considering the way Dad treated Josh, who had given him no reason not to like him, I could only imagine what he might do to a boy he didn’t like.

We slipped inside. I heard the faint sound of a keyboard clicking. Dad must be in his office. I dumped my things by the door and walked down the entry hall.

“Madison is that you?” Dad’s voice called.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said. I hesitated. It still wasn’t too late. Dad didn’t know Eric was there. I could easily smuggle him out of the house without anyone knowing he had come.

Eric seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. He rolled his eyes, then grabbed my hand, and pulled me towards Dad’s office. Clearly there was no way he was going to leave without meeting my parents.

Dad sat behind a large desk that dominated the office. He was an amateur photographer, and framed photos he had taken decorated the walls. Mom had made her influence felt by insisting on putting up curtains and some decorative knickknacks.

He didn’t look up as we came in, his attention focused on his computer screen.

“Hey, Dad,” I said. “This is Eric.”

“Hello, Eric,” Dad said. He glanced at Eric, then back to the computer screen, and then immediately back at Eric, this time his eyes wide. They stayed wide for a second, then narrowed with fury. He shoved himself away from the computer and stood up.

“You,” he said, pointing at Eric. It sounded like an accusation. “Get away from my daughter!”

Eric took a step back, all pretense of coolness gone, his mouth literally hung open in an expression of shock. For the first time since I had met him, Eric appeared to be completely flustered.

“Scottie?” he said, the word barely squeaking out of his throat, “is that you?”

Who was Scottie? My dad’s name was Bruce. What was going on here?

“You know each other?” I asked.

I might as well have kept my mouth shut for all the good it did. Dad and Eric were locked in an epic staring match - neither of them responding to anything.

When Dad finally spoke, it was with barely controlled anger. “What are you doing with my daughter?”

Eric’s eyes flicked over to me, then back to Dad. “Madison’s your daughter? The one you had before...” he trailed off as Dad held up a hand.

“Don’t say another word,” Dad said. He walked over to the office door and held it open for me. “Madison, I need a moment alone with Eric.”

“No.” My voice sounded much calmer than I felt. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m not going to leave until I find out.”

I had been prepared to watch Dad explode. Instead he seemed to deflate and lose a bit of his anger. “Please, Madison,” he said. “I promise you this is nothing you want to be a part of.”

“It’s too late for that,” said Eric.

A look of dawning comprehension crossed Dad’s face, followed by an expression of horror. “A Binder?” he asked.

How did Dad know about Binders? And if he did know, why would he be so upset that I was one?

Eric shook his head, looking uncomfortable. “She’s a Berserker, Scottie.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. “That’s not funny.” He looked on the verge of attacking, and while my dad was a very large man, he was no match for Eric’s Berserker powers.

“I know it seems impossible,” said Eric. “But it’s true, Scottie. I’ve seen her ‘zerk myself.”

The strength seemed to leave Dad’s legs and he slid down the wall, sinking to the floor. I’d never seen my dad like this before. It was as if Eric had told him that I had terminal cancer and had only a few weeks to live.

Without looking up he asked, “Are you sure?” His voice sounded dead and hollow.

“Yes.”

“Which Havoc?”

“Pravicus.”

Dad nodded as if expecting this. “So all those years of running and hiding were for nothing,” he said. “It’s all come full circle.”

This had gone on long enough. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on here? Dad, how do you know about all this?”

Dad got to his feet, his initial shock past. He took a deep breath before speaking. “Because I was a Berserker.”

My initial reaction was to laugh. Dad? A Berserker? Ridiculous. How could someone like my dad possibly be a Berserker? He was way too boring – a dad, not a Berserker. Besides, it didn’t fit in with what I had been told. Once you were a Berserker, you were one until you died – and that might be hundreds of years later. It wasn’t like you could just quit and drop out.

Could you?

I walked over to Dad’s chair and sat down. “It sounds like you both have a story to tell me.” I crossed my legs and folded my arms. “Let’s hear it.”

Eric threw up his hands and stepped backwards. “It’s not my story to tell,” he said.

Dad ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stand up awkwardly and giving him a rumpled, tired look. “Where do I even begin? This isn’t a story I ever rehearsed, thinking I would tell you one day, Madison.” He blew out a breath. “I suppose it begins with your mother – your birth mother.”

I immediately perked up. I loved hearing about my birth mom, but Dad rarely mentioned her. When I was younger, I used to pester Dad with questions about her, but I stopped when I realized how much the memories hurt him. Even now I could see the pain was still there.

“What does Mom have to do with any of this?” I asked.

“Your mother was a Binder,” said Dad.

Now it was my turn to be surprised beyond words. I stared incredulously at Dad, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“She and I met twenty-five years ago,” he continued. “My old Binder had passed away from natural causes and your mom had become the new Binder. We found her in a small town in the south of France, an innocent girl who had never left the country. It took a while to convince her of her abilities, but when she finally understood, she committed to the cause with all her heart.

“Over the next few years we traveled all over the world. I’d had many Binders before, but none like Monique.”

If I hadn’t been sitting down, my legs would have given out. Everything that Dad was telling me about my mom was completely different from what I thought I had known.

He’d always said that he and Mom had met in college in an art class and fallen in love at first sight. She was from Cincinnati, not France, and her name was Heather, not Monique.

Tears welled up as I realized that I actually knew
nothing
about my mother. Everything I thought I had known was a lie.

The tears falling down my cheeks made Dad stop his story. For a moment he looked surprised, then confused, and finally he rushed over and swept me up in a hug.

“Oh, Madison,” he said. “I didn’t want to lie to you about your mom, but I was trying to protect you. You know I wouldn’t ever deliberately hurt you, don’t you?” He pulled back and looked anxiously into my eyes – which were still leaking tears.

I jerked back and turned away from him. “You lied to me, Dad. How could you lie to me about my own mother?”

Eric spoke up from the corner. “Yeah, I uh, have a surprise bar mitzvah I need to go to,” he said. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow, Madison.” He exited the room and closed the door to the study behind him.

“I had my reasons, Madison,” said Dad’s voice from behind me.

“Really?” Anger flared up in me. “You had reasons to tell me lies and make me think I actually knew
anything
about my mother?”

Dad was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again there was a tightness in his voice, as if he were trying very hard to keep his emotions in check.

“When Monique left her village and realized what the world had to offer, she was like a bird spreading its wings. She had a childlike innocence that was unlike anyone I had ever met.

“Despite the rules, despite every piece of common sense that was in me, I fell in love with her. An uncontrollable head-over heels love. I felt that I had found my soul mate - my other half. Rationally, I knew it couldn’t work. She would age normally, grow older, and die, all while I aged only a few years.

 “But we were in love and all reasons to stay away from each other felt too intellectual, too far removed from our emotions for us to listen to them. We finally embraced irrationality and got married, accepting the challenges that lay ahead of us.

“For two glorious years we lived as husband and wife – Berserker and Binder. We traveled the world, exploring its wonders together.

“When I found out Monique was pregnant, I was ecstatic. I’d always wanted to be a father, but being a Berserker, I didn’t see how it could ever happen. Physically, I knew I had the capability to father a child. I just never thought I would have the opportunity to
raise
a child – to be a father.”

I turned around. Seeing Dad triggered more tears. He took an uncertain step towards me, obviously wanting to make things better, but I held up a hand to keep him away. I was still too upset to want his comfort.

“Then what happened?” I asked.

Dad paused and looked me in the eyes. “Then you were born,” he said. “And you were the most perfect little girl I had ever seen.” He smiled, lost in memory. “You had both of us wrapped around your little finger. Your mother refused to put you in a crib to sleep. She held you in her arms every night. You were her life and breath.”

As if I wasn’t crying enough, hearing about how much my mom had cared for me turned it up a dozen or so notches. I put my face in my hands and sobbed.

“When you were less than a year old, I was called to help fight Osadyn in North Carolina. We battled in a wet field near some power lines. During the fight, Osadyn knocked down a power pole and the live wires hit the wet ground, electrocuting me and stopping my heart. I died.”

I lifted my head and saw Dad staring out the window, a faraway look on his face.

“You died?” I asked. “But, you’re...”

He let out a small chuckle. “Alive? I am now, but the jolt stopped my heart and for almost ten minutes, I was dead. Shing and Rhys carried me to the nearest hospital, where the doctors and nurses were able restart my heart. But by then it was too late.”

“Too late?” I asked. “Too late for what?”

“Too late to save your mother,” he said. “When I died, she died, too.”

“What do you mean?”

Dad blinked and came out of his reverie. “You do know about the connection between a Berserker and a Binder, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I think so. For each Havoc there’s a Berserker and Binder. The Berserker’s blood is used to bind or free the Havoc and the Binder uses her power to perform the actual binding.”

“All true,” said Dad, “but there’s much more to it than that, Madison. A Berserker lives for hundreds of years and can have many Binders during that time, but a Binder is irrevocably linked to her Berserker.” He took a deep breath. “When a Berserker dies, the bond is snapped and the backlash kills his Binder.”

The full consequence of what he said hit me. “When you died, it killed mom?”

“Yes.” Dad turned away from me, his shoulders slumping. “It’s my fault your mother died.”

I watched Dad, conflicting emotions running through me. I was still angry that he had lied to me, but I also felt saddened by the burden of guilt he had obviously been carrying for all these years. I didn’t know what to say, so I kept silent and let Dad keep talking.

“When the doctors revived me, I was no longer a Berserker – someone else had those powers. I was just a normal man with a little girl to raise and protect. The reality of death hit home for me, and I was afraid to lose you too, so I took you and distanced myself from the Berserker world. I moved, changed my name, and cut off all contact with my past life. I wanted you to have a normal life, not one filled with monsters and the heartache of seeing your loved ones killed.

“I moved here to get a fresh start and to forget the past.” He gave a choked laugh. “So much for that plan.”

Like a trickle of water rolling down an icicle, I felt my cold anger start to thaw. It wasn’t gone, and it wouldn’t be for a long time, but right then I knew I would eventually forgive Dad for lying to me.

“I met Mom – your new mom – shortly after moving here, but the pain was still too new, too fresh for me to get involved in a relationship. You were my focus. I had plenty of money, so I spent the next few years trying to be both Mom and Dad to make up for what you’d lost.

“She stuck around – she always told me she knew persistence would pay off – until I was ready to love again. I worried that I was betraying your mother, but I knew she would have wanted me to remarry, to find someone to be the mother to you that she couldn’t be. And she has, Madison. I hope you know that. Mom loves you just as much as if she gave birth to you herself.”

“I know, Dad,” I said, smiling through the tears.

“And that brings us to now,” said Dad. “You’re really a Berserker?”

I shrugged. “Well, I glow at inconvenient times and destroy things. Does that count?”

Dad looked thoughtful – thoughtful and scared. “You do know that this is the first time there has ever been a female Berserker?”