Chapter 39

Bryce went to work and I went to find Paige. When I told her what the professors had said, her face went white. Though we told Lucas, they agreed we should keep what I suspected to myself. I swore I hadn't told Bryce and they asked me to burn any copies of the spell I might have made. If there was power like this around, we couldn't let the Cabals get a hold of it.

I wasn't worried about Bryce telling his family. Not only was he simply too angry to tell his grandfather anything that might help the old man at the moment, but I remembered him in the limo. Whatever the board of directors thought, Bryce believed the Cabals did have some moral rules—the dead stayed dead. If it was a stupid risk to take, well, that's what I did. But I didn't think it was a risk at all.

The Cortezes did say it helped explain why the Eisenbergs hadn't gone back in time to when their son was alive. If they could fix him at any time, then the question simply became why they had picked now? Was it because he had died (fairly) recently? Or was there something going on now that couldn't happen at any other time?

I promised to do more research on the spell, in case there was something I may have overlooked. Grant, it seemed, really could get me in touch with anyone. Not that it helped, since most of the people I talked to didn't know magic existed and didn't know just how unlikely the things they suggested had to be.

Grant made me go to class, but while I was away he had the best volumes on ancient Egyptian mythology the Nasts and Cortezes had delivered to the hotel. Since I was a good research girl, I set about looking through them for something that might tell me why the Eisenbergs had gone off the rails now.

I jumped three feet when the phone rang. Though Bryce used it for business when his cell was recharging, it usually didn't ring by itself. If they wanted to speak to him, they shouldn't have called the room. Would they even have this number? With a sigh, I put down the ancient books and went to pick up the phone.

"Hello. How can I help you?"

"Gillian? Is Bryce around?" Leech asked, sounding nervous.

"He's at work. He probably won't be back for at least another hour. Try his cell, he's got it with him."

"No—actually, this is better. Can I come over now?"

"Sure," I answered automatically. And then he hung before I could come up with anything else.

Looking just as terrible as he had last time I had seen him, Leech didn't waste any time allowing me to ask about his health. He got straight to the point.

"I can talk to Penelope Yi."

The look in his eye scared me, and I shivered as I went to sit on the couch. "Hollis couldn't do it. And Jaime Vegas—"

"I know. There are ways to curse a soul so a necro can't get through—most necromancers can't get through. There are ways. That's why mom was so valuable. Because she knew how to do it. I found her old notes. I can get through."

"Why can't someone else do it? What about Hollis? Or Baker? Or Kendrick? Or you could talk to Jaime and—"

"Hollis isn't nearly as powerful as he thinks he is...anyway, it's not about being powerful. My mom couldn't create zombies. She couldn't create portals. Most people thought her entire family were useless as necromancers; that's the only reason Kristof hired a necro-nanny in the first place. Everyone thought she wasn't a threat. But she could have done this. I can do this."

"But you're blacklisted. It won't work."

"Not if Yi doesn't know she's not allowed to talk to me. And since she's probably pissed and cut off, I can't see her particularly caring." He gave a partially rueful smile. "Bryce did manage to leave a few loopholes."

"What aren't you telling me?" I demanded. I wasn't an idiot. He was telling me this only after he had made sure Bryce wasn't around. His breathing was laboured and his skin had acquired a greyish tinge that hadn't been there before. The amount I knew about necromancy was extremely infinitesimal, but still. The darkest power was never fun.

Leech rubbed the back of his head. "It's my choice."

"Right...that's why you're scared of telling Bryce."

"It was his idea, you know. Don't think for a second I'm blaming him," Leech quickly added, seeing my face, "because I'm not. I didn't want to go insane—I was terrified. So when Bryce said let's make them scared of you, it seemed like the perfect solution. Even with—it wasn't pretty what we did, but it was better to see those things once, than have them haunt my every waking moment."

"I'm sensing a but."

He gave the most cheerless smile I had ever seen. "But, I'm a necromancer. Savannah called me a useless human most of the time I knew her and it wasn't far from the truth. I can't do anything, not any more. And I could. I've always been powerful—with the power my parents had, I have to be. I could reach Yi. I just...I need to convince Bryce to let me try."

His voice cracked: "I need to do this, Gillian. I don't have anything left and I'm tired of hiding who I am. Just...just please, don't fight me when he's there. I don't think I'll be able to handle him; if you gang up on me, I won't have a prayer. So just stay out of it. It's my decision."

"That doesn't mean it's a good one."

"I'm not...I want to be who I was supposed to be, now. Because being someone else didn't work."

He needed me to understand this, because I was around, and I think because I should be able to. In a strange way, I did. I couldn't understand how he could bare to face what he really was, but I understood knowing you had to stop, sensing that pretending wasn't working. That didn't mean he was right, or that I was just going to back off.

"There are other ways of asserting your individuality."

But he didn't get mad. "Please, Gillian. I'm a necromancer...let me do necromancer things. For Savannah's sake."

And just like that my resolve disappeared. Because if it could help Savannah, I would let him do this. If this was the way he wanted to get in touch with his roots than I wouldn't stop him. My mother didn't do witch things not because she didn't want to—she didn't know how. I had spent the first thirteen years of my life not knowing how to cast even the simplest of unlocking spells and when I had finally learned...it was the sun rising, lightening flashing, light bulb bursting, flash in the dark sort of moment. Something finally felt right. So I could let Leech do this. Besides, it couldn't be as bad as he thought, right?

"I still don't think you're telling me everything," I said finally. "But I'll stay out of it when you tell Bryce. I don't know what else you want me to do."

"Thank you," he said with a small smile. "Making sure he doesn't kill me would be appreciated. And if you could change his—"

"Finish that sentence and I will let him kill you."

Leech was smart enough to drop his eyes and the entire topic of conversation.

"Noted."

Bryce came back around five, opening the door and bitching about incompetent lawyers. He saw Leech sitting in the chair and asked what was going on.

Leech told him. Just opened his mouth and told Bryce all about bringing back Yi from the dead. He told Bryce a lot more than he had told me. He talked about the risks involved—how this type of necromancy always broke further through the normal bounds, which is why those who did it tended to end up insane sooner than the rest. And since Leech was already a necromancer who had attempted to defy the spirits...they wouldn't be too happy with him. But Leech said he was prepared to face it. There was nothing Bryce could do to change his mind, so he might as well agree.

The second the words left his mouth, he realized what a challenge they were. And Bryce dearly loved to rise to the challenge.

"Like fucking hell you're going to do that! We didn't almost die just so you could turn around and say you changed your fucking mind. They'll tear you apart, man. Spirits are already psycho—you tell them you want back in and they'll treat you like a rotting animal carcass. No fucking way."

Bryce got up and towered over his friend, who rose and evened the score. Leech looked sick, but he said clearly: "I'm going to do it. You can't stop me."

"Like hell I can't. You might be bigger but I'm the one with the fucking magical powers and if I say you're not leaving this room, you're not leaving this room."

"Bryce, it's my decision. It's who I am. I have to stop denying it. I tried that—you know how hard I tried. But I've already lost Claire. Why should I to keep trying to pretend I'm normal, especially when I can save your sister?"

"Fuck my sister," Bryce spat. "We'll find her eventually, some other way. I'm not going to have you go mental on me just for her."

"Dude, we always knew I was going to go nuts. I might as well do some good before that happens."

"But you don't have to. Just keep out of it and you won't ever have to... you won't have to end up like your mom, man."

"I know I'm good at just standing around, but I can't do that forever. I'm never going to be normal. I'm doing this. And unless you've been taking some sort of kung-fu shit that I don't know about, you're going to have to let me."

Bryce backed away, walking towards the door. He didn't leave, just stared at it for a little while. He glanced back, but kept his gaze on me. "What do you think?"

"A crazy stunt that only has a vague chance of helping Savannah? Why would I support something like that?"

"Good job, buddy. The crazy witch agrees with you. That's impressive." His voice was calm when he announced, "You can't do this. I won't let you. It's suicide and it's just not happening."

"It's too late, man," Leech said softly. "I contacted my mom last night."

"No." Bryce's face went completely white. "No. No, you didn't."

He said it was such force that I sort of just expected time to undo itself so that Leech hadn't already talked to his mother, just because Bryce said so. Bryce who had everything and everyone obeying his every whim for as long as he remembered. And now, when it actually mattered to him, Leech was just shaking his head.

"I did. It was good to talk to her again. She's better now."

I thought Bryce was going to cry as he sort of just fell into the nearby chair. I bought him some time.

"I thought necromancers weren't allowed to contact relatives."

"It's harder," Leech said quietly. "And against all sorts of laws, but it can be done. There are just consequences if you do. Consequences I'm prepared to deal with."

Bryce finally managed: "The spirits will start coming back soon. There's no way around that. I can go see Kane, see if—"

"No. I'm not hiding any more. The spirits want me, they can come get me."

"I'm not going to visit you, once you lose your fucking marbles."

Leech gave him a half-grin. "Yes you will."

"Fuck you."

Bryce stormed past Leech and into the bathroom. The door slammed, shaking on its hinges. I jumped and Leech cringed. The big man let out a long sigh and deflated in front of my eyes, relieved and maybe disappointed at the same time. Bryce wasn't going to actively stop him, but that didn't mean Leech hadn't hoped for a better result. He slumped down onto the couch and buried his head in his hands.

"He didn't kill you. Count your blessings, right?" I said. Leech didn't look up. I had to say something. "He'll get over it and you two will be fine. I got him shot and he's still—actually never mind. But, I mean, him being a jerk isn't really all that different from normal, so you shouldn't feel too bad about it."

He gave me a look that told me my pep talk had failed spectacularly. Damn. I tried a slightly different tactic.

"It's incredibly stupid, what you're doing. You're going to end up insane, for sure, and this might make it happen a whole lot faster." I let my words sink in before I continued. "But I think it's really brave, too. And I'm grateful, because it might save her life. And, I—I wish I could be that brave. Not that stupid, but that brave." To try to go back, to stop running from myself all the time.

He gave me a real smile this time. "Thank you. You're going to look after him?"

I nodded and walked towards the closed bathroom door. "He'll want to come with you when you try and talk to Yi."

"Hollis and I are going at eight. We can pick you up then."

Nodding, I tried the bathroom door and was relieved to find it wasn't locked—inside I went.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't what I found. Bryce was sitting in the large tub, still in his business suit, water gushing out of the faucet and onto his head. His long legs were resting on the edge of the other side. The only concession to the fact he was going to be drenched in a few minutes were the shoes he had kicked off. He didn't even turn at my approach. Fine. I stayed just by the door.

But I had to offer him something. Anything, even if it wasn't that much.

"I don't know anything about being a good friend. Dana was my best friend and she's dead and everyone else...they were everyone else and I didn't care about them at all. I only ever let Savannah in after that and you know how well that turned out. But I think he needs to do this. I think you need to let him."

"You ever see what happens to a necro at the end?" His voice was harsh, bitter and coarse, and utterly terrified. "Sometimes you can't even tell they're human, anymore, they're so far gone. It's really, really ugly. Fidelia got really bad. They couldn't shut her up and she tore out all her hair and started trying to scratch off her own skin so they had to tie her up. It was brutal. Ask Leech why he's never had kids, even though he would have done anything else to make Claire stay. He knows what happens. How can I stand by and let him do that to himself?"

"You're not standing by. You're stepping aside."

"Same difference."

"No. No, it's not."

Climbing up the steps, I perched on the tiles around the bath, not touching him, waiting for him to finish whatever angry rant he had to—anything to feel back in control. He sighed and leaned back so that the water was splashing right in his face, like maybe it could help. Finally, he stopped and said:

"There's part of me that wants to let him do it. For him, for Savannah...but what happens if it goes wrong? And it's going to go wrong. I can't lose him like that. I couldn't—" Blue eyes pleaded for me to understand. "He's been my best friend since I was five. How the fuck can I let him do this?"

"I don't know. You either can or you can't. You pick and then you live with it."

"That's what I do," he muttered. "It doesn't seem to be working very well."

"Yeah, I picked up on that one."

Again he fell silent and the only sound was the water still streaming out. It was almost over his hips at this point. I finally had to ask, "Is there a reason you're trying to drown yourself? Or is this just a new fad I haven't heard of?"

"When I was fifteen there was this guy I couldn't stand—so I sort of hooked up with his girlfriend. Anyway, we got into this fight and Sean and Leech ended up dragging me off him. I tried to attack them too and so they dumped me in a pool. That helped me cool off. I figured if it worked back then, it should work now. Because I think I might kill him if I had a chance."

"You have to work on your anger," I said, shaking my head. "Is it working?"

"No. I admit, this wasn't one of my smarter ideas. I liked this suit."

"You should take it off before it gets wrecked." His wet hand snaked out to try and grab my waist but I pulled back quickly—I happened to like my shirt. "That wasn't a come on, FYI."

"Hey, you followed me into a washroom. What am I supposed to think?"

"Maybe I was worried about you."

It came out less flippant than I had meant it too, but he didn't seem to notice, too busy pulling off the suit jacket. I may have giggled a little as he struggled in the partial water, getting the whole room wet. He tossed the half-drenched jacket at me and I caught it without thinking. It got water all over me.

"Thanks, Bryce," I snapped.

"I should be getting drunk out of my mind but...I suppose he wants to go tonight?" I nodded. He sighed and gave up pulling off his clothes, sinking under. "This fucking sucks."

"How you suffer." But since we did have a long time and he did need to be distracted...

"What is that? Vanilla?" he demanded as I poured something into the tub. "Bubble bath?"

"I like bubble bath," I said pointedly.

"Interesting. I don't think I knew that about you," he said as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Actually," I said as I sat down beside his feet, pulling off his wet socks and dangling my feet in the water, "I don't really. If it gets in my hair, it just creates this whole soapy mess. But I like the smell."

Bryce sat upright and then onto his knees, coming over. I parted my legs and let him slip between them. With him kneeling and my sitting a few feet above him, I was actually taller than him for once. He took the opportunity to kiss the tops of my breasts as I pushed his sopping wet shirt off his shoulders, helping him shrug it off.

"Just drop the clothes on the floor," he told me.

"It's going to get everything wet," I complained. Water was seeping through my shirt as he wrapped his arms around me, dragging me closer. But just because he was getting me all wet didn't mean I wanted to destroy the room.

"I'm paying a fortune for this room. I should be able to get water wherever I want."

"There are hard-working people who have to clean up your mess. You could try to be a little considerate."

"Is this you distracting me from the fact that my best friend just announced he was going to try and make himself crazy? Because you're doing a shitty job."

I brushed a wayward droplet off the side of his face. Always with the blazing blue eyes. He did have beautiful eyes. The water had clumped his eyelashes together and I found myself smiling at him. "You know, I really do think you get objectively more attractive when you're angry. It's the weirdest thing."

He snorted and tried to pull away, but I didn't let him. Holding his arms in place, I kissed him until he was responding enthusiastically. Even after everything, he was still warm and I savoured each moment. For a while, it was just the two of us. It wasn't about distracting him, or if it was, it was more about giving him the time to accept what was happening than it was about making him forget. I wouldn't be up to the challenge of making him forget. I wouldn't want to be—you couldn't forget to worry about your best friend. You always worried. You worried about pathetic crushes that always broke their hearts or decisions that destroyed their mental abilities and everything in between. Always.

But right that second? Bryce needed time to get his stubborn head around the fact that this was Leech's decision and it had already been done. I'm sure part of him realized that already, the part that hadn't killed Leech for daring to defy a Nast. Now to get the rest of himself to listen.

"Why are you still here, Gillian?" he muttered against my lips.

"You're cute when you're wet," I told him, running my hands over his shoulders. Since I didn't know the truth, I couldn't answer his real question. "It makes you look sweet."

He snarled, dragging me dangerously close to the water, but I found I didn't care much. My fingers found his belt and I tugged at it gently as we kissed. The water was now up to my knees and I really didn't care. I got his pants undone and pulled away in triumph. He looked up at me, eyes sparking. I found myself grinning and kissed him on the nose. That's when we both noticed the bubbles were almost spilling over the edge of the tub.

Bryce swore and shuffled back to the faucet. I took the opportunity to slip half out, removing my clothes. He had a little trouble figuring out which way turned off the faucet and so by the time he turned around I was already under the water.

Even my admittedly small body mass caused the water level to shift dangerously high. We were going to make such a mess. If I leaned back the water came just below my chin, the bubbles getting into my mouth. I hadn't realized there would be so much water—or bubbles.

"I don't remember saying you could come in," Bryce said as he leaned over me, kissing me even as we both fumbled trying to get his pants off. As we shifted in the water, it rolled around us, splashing up into my face.

I giggled, even as I spit up water, and he rolled his eyes, standing right up to take the things off. As I tried to stop laughing, I told him, "I hope you know mouth to mouth because I'm going to drown in here."

He moved so the water splashed me in the face.

"Hey!" I brushed the water out of my face, to see him holding his clothes right above the perfectly dry floor. "Bryce—don't. You don't need to make a mess."

"Oops." Pants and boxers dropped onto the ground.

"You're such a brat," I said, half-rising out of the water to yank him back to me. Water got everywhere, but at this point it was really beside the point. He deserved whatever splashed into his eyes.

"Hey," he complained. He ended up leaning against the other side of the bathtub as I slipped on top of him, peppering his face with kisses. "You're going to give me a complex one day."

"You deserve it. I'm never going to get you to respect the minions, am I?" I put a little bit of bubble bath on his nose, which made me giggle some more.

"I'm a lost cause."

"Which is why you care about what happens to Leech?"

I pulled back so I was on my knees, bubbles barely covering my chest. He shrugged and tried to push the bubbles away. "Maybe I'm just worried I won't have any place to stay when I come out west."

"I can't believe what a shitty liar you are," I said incredulously. "Shouldn't you have been taking lessons from when you were a kid? But you're horrible."

He laughed, yanking me down so that our mouths crashed against one another. Eventually I managed to straddle him properly as my hands swam through the water, slowly running along his body. His lips slipped down along my neck. Now we were getting somewhere. My eyes fluttered closed as he took his sweet time as usual. I braced one hand above his head, the other on his shoulder and moved myself a little higher, giving him better access. As the tip of my right breast slipped inside his mouth, I groaned, moving a little more.

That's when I hit the faucet.

The hot water blasted onto my shoulder and I shot backwards, scrambling to get away from the boiling water. As I shrieked, Bryce sat up properly and turned off the offending appliance. We looked at each other and then I burst out laughing.

"This is a disaster. I take full responsibility but oh my god. We need to stop," I said between giggles. Bryce was trying not to laugh, teeth biting hard on his lip, but failing to keep the smile off his face.

"Do you know what this means, Gillian?"

"You should have used the shower?"

Bryce stuck out his arms and just pushed the water over the edge. I would have protested, but at this point, the bathroom was already a mess. There was no point so I just shook my head and tried to ignore the way he was purposely getting everything wet.

"It means," he said finally, when the water level was a little less ridiculous, "that this has become a matter of honour."

"What?"

"That's right. We are having sex in this bathtub if it kills us both."

I had managed to stop laughing, but now I started up all over again. I even snorted up some water, I was laughing so hard. That was such a bad idea. "I'm sorry, but what? Face it, Bryce. We are up against forces we cannot control. The tub is out to get us. There's no fighting the inanimate object."

"I refuse to accept that."

"Of course you would. That doesn't mean I'm not right. Hell, I think I officially burnt my shoulder."

"Let me see."

I turned on my side and he came up behind me. Somehow, he managed to get me onto his lap as he leaned back on the other side, far from the evil faucets. Cool air hit my shoulder and I shivered, shifting against him. That's when he brought his lips down, moving along the sensitized skin. His hands on my hips began to move upwards.

"Is it bad that I'm just waiting for the bubbles to attack?" I told him.

"You're ridiculous," he announced firmly. His lips moved over my neck and his hands began kneading my breasts. I let myself lean back a little more, relaxing into his chest, letting my eyes flutter closed.

"Maybe we can triumph," I admitted reluctantly as he sucked just under my ear. I turned my head so that I could reach his lips properly. My arms had reached backwards, tangling in his hair. "Not getting your way won't kill you, you know."

"I know," he said quietly. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."