Imp came to on the carpet, face down, soaked with tears. For several minutes she stayed where she was, trying to sort out her head. Grief, anger, aggression, fear, disappointment, longing, determination, gratitude, despair, and a hundred other emotions too nebulous and mixed-up to name were crammed inside her skull so tightly she thought it would burst. She wanted to stab someone, or herself, or maybe just Heartbreaker's corpse over and over. Or cry. Or roll over and never move again.
She eventually staggered to her feet. Anita was in the doorway, looking exhausted but intensely focused.
Imp held her power off, and Anita jumped and ran for her. Charged. Imp realised too late that she was holding a knife. She let her power go, but Anita's momentum carried on, and Imp's dodge wasn't quick enough. Blood started to drip onto the carpet from a deep gash on her arm. "Fuck!" she swore.
Anita visibly jumped, but Imp pushed past her, looking for something to press over the wound. She stumbled through the doorway and then staggered in shock at the sight of the mauled corpses strewn over the landing. She pieced together the scene: bloody nails, scratches and bruises, contorted hateful expressions. They'd beaten each other to death, although some of them also had knife wounds. She turned back towards Anita, who was still standing in the master bedroom, looking confused. There were bloodstains on her sweater.
Did Heartbreaker do something? Did someone trigger? Or has Anita just snapped?
Anita had triggered when Heartbreaker had been forcing her to torture a girl her age. Sam had already told her that. She'd taken the emotions of everyone around her in one great rush, and then he'd turned on someone else.
Imp thought back to when the girl had approached her before she'd blacked out. The sudden rush of...everything. Of Camille's sudden strength of will; of Eric's implacable anger; of Anita's own determination when by rights she should have fallen apart, on the tiles of the second-floor bathroom.
"You sneaky bitch," she muttered. She appeared to Anita, and as the girl charged again, Imp felt a rush of fear. She let herself fade out again. That fear wasn't hers.
"You're a goddamn blaster, aren't you?" she exclaimed. "Oh, god damn it, why are capes so freaking secretive?"
She pulled the rope from her bag, tripped Anita up, took the knife and tied her to the banisters. Then she reappeared. "Sprog," she said, hands on hips, "you've been holding out on me."
Anita struggled furiously, breathing hard.
"You know you spoke earlier, right? You actually spoke. I thought you did not speak. What happened?"
"I have to kill us," Anita groaned out, her desperate tone at odds with her hideous aggressive expression, the rope she was straining against with all her might, her furiously kicking legs.
"Aw, really? You know that's just dad talking."
"I know," she replied. "Still."
"Yeah, fair enough. So this is what, some kind of anxiety override?"
"Not scared," Anita forced out. "No room."
"So, troubleshoot with me." Imp sat down opposite her, crossing her legs. "If I left, would you chase me?"
Anita shook her head. Then nodded. "Would plan to. Eventually."
"Right. How soon?"
Somewhere among the thrashing, Anita managed to shrug. "Could put it off. Indefinitely."
"So...can I take you with me?"
"No!" Anita shouted. "No, stay the hell away—sorry. Sorry." Her voice cracked, though her struggling didn't abate.
"Alright. Look, this is a toughie. If I leave you alone, are you gonna be okay?"
Unexpectedly, Imp felt a pang of regret as she saw Anita's eyes fill with tears, even as her wrist started bleeding from the rope burn. Her dark curls were matted with blood, her teeth were bared, and still she strained to reach Imp and hurt her, helpless against a command given by a man who was already dead.
And still, Imp thought, she looked so much like Alec it made her chest hurt.
"Maybe if Flor..." she thought aloud, but Anita was shaking her head violently. "Don't trust her, eh? I guess that's fair." She cast an eye over the other wives, thinking of the screaming. Damn kid. "So you said to kill us. If I leave, are you gonna...?"
Anita shook her head again. "You first," she forced out. "Then me."
Imp sighed. "Well then me being around just sucks for both of us, doesn't it?"
Despite her efforts at sealing her emotions away, Anita felt herself cracking. "Please don't," she said, though neither of them were sure what she was begging for.
Imp got to her feet and sighed again. "I owe you, kiddo," she said. "I really do."
It damn near broke her heart, but she walked away.
[AN: Sorry for the late update! Epilogue on the 23rd.]