Attempting to lessen the damage being done to his shoulders and arms, Joseph shifted his weight a little. He was chained up again. The last torture session left him near dead, but still he hadn’t given up his magic. Nothing that Ludvik could say would make him break. He fought through the fog in his head. He was dying. He could feel the magic inside of him, racing to protect cells that had been destroyed, but the damage was so bad that he knew nothing could be done. He was never leaving this place. The Prophecy was wrong—it wasn’t his generation, not him and Micah, who could destroy a stagnant regime and bring a new order to the growing chaos.
Maybe another set of twins held the key to accessing the Journal of Days.
Micah would be safe after he died.
He had to believe that. Micah would go on with Connor and they would live long lives. Joseph never expected to get this far or live this long, but Micah could have a full life. Joseph was resistance, had magic, and had lost so much. Ethan. Phin.
“Joseph?”
Phin’s voice pierced his dying thoughts. Was it morning already? Joseph was always allowed time to heal, but Ludvik had just gone. Why send a vision of Phin now? He grunted as something touched him. Strong hands ran down his torso and he moaned in pain as fingers dipped and scraped into deep wounds.
“Just kill me,” he ordered brokenly. Drawing every last piece of strength in him to the surface, he forced out four words. He would not betray his kind or his gifts. “I. Don’t. Have. Magic.”
“Joseph. Don’t you dare,” Phin said strongly.
“Leave…”
“Let’s get you down. Lean on me…”
“No…” Joseph whimpered. The chains above him clattered, and then he fell. Someone held him, the warmth of a strong hold did nothing to counteract the fire that shot through muscles pushed to extremes. Tears filled his eyes as the agony took him closer to death.
“Joseph. Please,” Phin demanded again. “Try.”
Joseph leaned heavily on the phantom of Phin and warmth built around him. Phin was here. Using magic to get him away. They’ll know…Phin…don’t expose yourself…
A crash in front of them and the heavy iron gate shattered inwards. Joseph flinched as iron flew towards them, but as they got closer the pieces simply dropped to the ground and the silver light in the room blinded him. Only as the room dissolved around them and he looked out did he see Ludvik’s face contorted in furious anger. Everything slowly faded to black, and even though he wanted to look at Phin, he couldn’t. He was too far gone.
The pain was his constant and Joseph knew he wasn’t in the cell suspended by his wrists. Voices sometimes broke through the pain. Phin. He thought he heard Micah. Knowing he was out of Glitnir was more than a relief. The passage of time was lost to him, he had nothing to judge it by, but every time he attempted to open his eyes he would hear, or smell, or think something new.
“I get why you knocked out Simeon, but Levi as well?” Micah’s voice.
“Micah, calm down.” Connor’s softer tones.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Phin interrupted. “If I’d taken Levi in he’d have been in danger.”
“Declan wants to kill you,” Micah snapped. “If Simeon doesn’t get there first.”
“Declan should be thanking me that I didn’t get his mate into a dangerous mess he would never escape. You know I can only port one person. What did you want me to do?”
“How about telling people what you are going to do instead of rendering them unconscious?” Micah asked abruptly. “You can’t do that—”
“Micah, you’re upset,” Connor interrupted. “Joseph is here now and he’s safe. Let me talk to Declan, he’s just blowing hot air. And Simeon will be fine once the hand print vanishes from his chest.”
“I saved their lives,” Phin shouted. The door opened and closed and Joseph cracked his eyes open a little. Micah was by the bed with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed. Connor crouched next to him with a hand on his knee. Clearly it was Phin who had stormed out. Micah looked terrible, dark circles under his eyes. He plainly needed an infusion of blood, or at least a hot meal. Joseph watched as Connor dropped to his knees and moved closer to Micah, cuddling close. Micah in turn, rested his head on Connor’s.
“What do I do if he doesn’t make it?” Micah whispered.
“Don’t think that way,” Connor said gently but firmly. “I love you, Micah Jamieson.”
Joseph moaned low in his throat as a fresh wave of pain worked its way from neck to the base of his spine in spasm. Micah immediately looked up and he and Connor were at the bed before Joseph could get the pain under control.
“Joseph?” Micah said urgently. “Get Phin,” he instructed Connor. Joseph closed his eyes to the pain. “Open your damn eyes,” Micah ordered.
“Can’t,” Joseph managed to force out. “Hurts.”
“I’ll give you hurt, you freaking idiot, what made you stay behind.”
“Felt ma-magic…” Joseph stuttered. Micah leaned close and Joseph opened his eyes and reached a hand to grab at his twin’s clothing. “Evil in hi—his heart.”
“Joseph, you need to rest.”
Joseph twisted his hand and tugged until Micah near tumbled onto him. “Twisted…dark…” he forced out.
Light flooded the room as the door was flung open and Phin was at his side in an instant. Placing his hand on Joseph’s chest temporarily eased some of Joseph’s pain, enough for him to release Micah a little. He couldn’t take any of his twin’s strength.
“Welcome back,” Phin muttered. He peered down at Joseph and from here Joseph could see the sparks in Phin’s pale silver eyes.
“Used magic…” Joseph protested.
Phin shook his head. “I get you out of a maximum security dungeon crawling with guards, without killing anyone, and all you can do is bitch at me for using a bit of magic?” Disgusted, Phin pulled back and Joseph released his hold on Micah completely, instead reaching for Phin.
“No,” Joseph said firmly. “Not you… Kappa… per—perversion.”
Exhausted, he screwed his eyes tight again. Every nerve ending in his body registered pain and he could taste blood in his mouth. He had to let them know, it was vital, there was evil in the core of Glitnir.
“I can’t hear you,” Phin encouraged. “Say again?”
“Ludvik…” Joseph dug deep for the energy and ability to form the words. His magic was hidden; any splinter of power had retreated as his body began to die. He wasn’t certain it would ever return. Whatever Phin tried to do, Joseph knew he was close to death—his spirit fractured.
“Ludvik Peitrol? He has magic?” Micah said carefully.
“Why did we not know this?” Phin was evidently skeptical and the tone in his voice only confirmed it. “There is no magic left in Glitnir.”
“You and Joseph,” Micah said quickly. “You have powers.”
“Throwbacks,” Phin’s derision was clear in the simple words.
Joseph hated to hear it. He needed to get Phin to understand it was up to him to remove Ludvik. Spasms wracked through his body as he coughed and there was more blood in his mouth. Blackness in his head threatened to take him under. A pure white light pushed some of the dark away and Micah was inside his head. He couldn’t be. He would see Joseph was dying. Deliberately Joseph shut the link and finally allowed the pain to take him under again.
* * *
Micah reared back like he had been burned and let out a cry of pure anguish. Phin stumbled away at the visceral sound and was pushed aside as Connor ran into the room.
“What happened?” Connor shouted. Micah was curled into Connor and he looked devastated. Phin immediately checked Joseph’s pulse. Micah’s twin wasn’t dead, although Phin couldn’t track Joseph’s magic—like it was gone, hidden, destroyed.
“He shut me out,” Micah shouted. “I saw him, he’s dying. Phin. Please. Save him.” Micah gripped hard to his arm. “He’s giving up.”
“I can’t,” Phin said tiredly. “There’s nothing I can do. I tried, but the wounds won’t heal.” He ran a finger across the nearest deep knife cut, the tip of it following the line of the vicious wound. It closed at the touch, but immediately opened again with fresh blood oozing. “See?”
“What did he mean about Ludvik? Was it him that did this to Joseph? When I was connected just now I saw Ludvik’s face, a smile. It wasn’t right.”
“Joseph says he has magic,” Phin tried to make sense of it in his head. “Whether he has or not, I don’t have anything in me left to give him. If these cuts were made with magic, the intention was to maim. Joseph isn’t fighting this. I don’t know if he can. His magic is literally fractured and I can’t feel it inside him. I can’t mend this, Micah.”
Grief balled in his chest. He wanted to be the elf who could bring Joseph back to life. He wanted to talk to Joseph, shout at him, call him stupid, hit him, punch him, push him to the floor in a temper and cause him pain for the incredible stupidity of letting himself get caught. He just wanted…time.
Micah bowed his head. “If I could get back inside his head. Could I somehow…”
“Somehow what?” Connor said, concerned. He had a strong grip on Micah and he looked damn pale for a wolf shifter. He was scared for whatever was in Micah’s thoughts—any fool could see that.
“Could I find the fractured magic? Help him press it together so he can heal.”
“No,” Phin said tiredly, “you wouldn’t know what you were doing. There are curses and hells you couldn’t imagine in that labyrinth inside his head. Your consciousness would be lost.”
“Micah?” Connor asked. Fear colored his voice. Phin glanced at the shifter and that wasn’t just fear—it was terror and love and passion all rolled into one. “Please think about this.”
“I want to do it. The Resistance is nothing without Joseph. Already rumors are spreading that our leader is dying. All the years of sacrifice would be for nothing.” Micah was trying to be practical, but underneath the words was the subtle inference of the fact Joseph was his twin.
“You can’t,” Phin said suddenly. “You’d need me to channel magic and I refuse to put you in danger.” Connor looked directly at Phin, but there was no thanks in his amber eyes. If anything, there was absolute desolation. Connor would fight to the death for Micah’s right to do what he wanted, and Phin could see the war inside Connor at the thought of Micah being in this nebulous danger.
Micah pulled his hand from Connor’s and gripped Joseph’s instead. “Do it,” he said.
“Micah,” Connor protested.
Micah closed his eyes and a tear fell from his left eye. “I love you, Connor. I will always love you.” Connor cupped Micah’s face and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“I love you, too,” Connor said softly.
Phin watched the exchange. Connecting Micah to Joseph was suicide. Joseph was beyond benefitting from the twins’ connection. There was only one person who could get inside Joseph’s head and help him back. He sighed inwardly. Joseph would not be happy with this. Phin raised his hand, palm upward, and allowed a little of his silver magic to form a sphere. In the blink of an eye it was a solid ball and he handed it to Connor who hesitated before accepting it with a frown on his face. Micah opened his eyes and the depths of them were haunted and filled with grief.
“It’s me he needs, Micah. You know that. I have to get inside. You’re not enough.” Micah made to argue, but stopped when Phin indicated the small sphere of silver. “If this changes to scarlet, it means I am lost, that Joseph and I are both lost. Our bodies may have breath, but you take us, you slit our throats, you burn our bodies and you scatter our ashes. Understand me?”
“I don’t understand?” Micah asked. “My brother isn’t dead yet.”
Phin hesitated to explain. How could anyone who didn’t have magic coursing through their veins understand for one minute the death that was losing that part of their soul.
“The only one who can pull Joseph out of this is me. Not you,” he said simply. “One last thing. If everything goes wrong…will you get a message out?”
“To your dad,” Micah confirmed.
“No.” Phin snorted a laugh at the thought of his dad being concerned about Phin’s death. “To Asherkan Iblis, Asher, he’s a blood demon. In the Badlands. It’s important. Tell him…” Tell him what? It’s all well and good having someone to give a message to, but not being able to know what to say?
“What?” Micah asked gently.
“That I’m sorry, and that he was right.” Phin glanced down at Joseph’s unconscious form. “He was always right.”
Micah nodded. “You’ll come back, you can tell the demon yourself,” he said carefully.
Phin thought maybe there should be more fanfare, maybe some tearful farewells, but really all he wanted to do was get inside Joseph’s mind and find the damn magic. Then he and Joseph really needed to talk. He placed his hand flat over Joseph’s naked chest where the worst of the cutting was, and where his heart beat slowly beneath the touch. Phin had access to Joseph that not even Joseph would think he had.
Phin had love.
Immediately he connected, he had to fight the instinct to pull away. Instead, he exhaled, climbed on the cot and lay close to Joseph, all the time connecting through touch. His last image was of Micah staring with a mixture of hope and despair and of Connor holding him tight.
Then everything went black.