Evie's Knight (33 page)

His deep-colored eyes pierced hers as she became the enemy. The look on his face–it was foreign, unrecognizable. There was a hate, violent and dark, building in his eyes, on his face.

Her pulse quickened, and in that moment she was afraid of him. A quick glance at Fiona told Evie she was mentally hard at work on him, focused tightly, glare fixed directly on him.

Suddenly Calvin pushed his eyes closed. The veins in his neck, arms and hands bulged in resistance. The strain was evident in the tightening of his face, the rigid set of his clenched jaw. He groaned, hunching forward and brought his head to his hands, breathing loud and labored.

He was fighting it, pushing the ill thoughts from his head. Would he come out of it soon? Beat it now before it went any further? Maybe.

His breaths calmed, his body seemed to relax as if freed from the pain. The tension drained from Evie as well. He’d beaten it.

But then Calvin shot up off the ground, retrieving the dagger from his waist in one swift motion. Though the conflict on his face was gone, it’d been replaced by a fierce look of resolve. Long, fluid strides brought him closer with ease, as he treaded over the arid dirt below.

Parker tensed up next to her as Calvin neared. One sure step, and then another. “Calvin, stop,” he breathed. “This is Evie. Stop, man.” Parker’s arms stretched across the altar. “You try it, Evie. Tell him to stop,” he pled as Calvin grew nearer.

She should, she knew it. Fiona had told them to try, to talk him out of the subliminal trance he’d be under. But Evie had lost her voice, couldn’t remember how to speak, how to move. She lay trapped–mentally spellbound by the view of him. The movements that played out before her like a slow-motion dream.

Mesmerized, she watched every detail unfold. The dirt kicking up beneath his shoes, clouding around him as he strode boldly toward her. She could see the darkness in his eyes, his obvious intent, yet he didn’t look wild or distraught. He looked unmistakably sane. Like a skilled executioner, dangerously confident, about to carry out his next hit–her.

Evie’s heartbeat thrummed in mad succession. The Calvin she knew was absent, lost behind the dire persuasion to kill and his need to obey it.

“Calvin,” Parker yelled, panic straining his words. He stepped in front of Evie, shielding her as the urgency in his voice raised. “Snap out of it, man. This is Evie.”

Calvin ducked his head to hold the focus he had on Evie’s face, glaring at her through the bend in Parker’s arm. And suddenly Parker was gone. In one swift motion, Calvin had shoved him out of the way and onto the ground.

As Parker scrambled back to the action, Evie spoke up. “Calvin don’t hurt me,” she said, knowing it was the last thing he wanted to do. She said it again, “Stop! Don’t hurt me, Calvin.”

The conflict returned.

“That’s right, man,” Parker said. “You’ve got this. Come on back.”

The look of confusion set in as Calvin eyed his older brother. When he glanced back to Evie, a horrified glint of acknowledgement flashed over him. Pressing his eyes closed, he pulled in a tight breath through clenched teeth. An expression that could only accompany great pain. Anguish, even. A groan sounded from his throat–frustration at the war battling within his mind.

Evie watched, a strange twist wrenching in her gut, as Calvin slid his fingers longingly over the steel blade, as if he were having a moment of bitter farewell. She shot another glance toward Fiona, saw that she was still working on him, pushing with an invisible force that thwarted his movements even still.

Slowly then, almost lovingly, Calvin returned the knife to its case. He turned his back to her and dropped to his knees, shaking his head in what looked like disappointment. Disgust. She should have spoken up sooner, Evie realized. She hadn’t done a very good job.

“I’m sorry, Calvin,” she said. “I just sort of…” Before she could think of the right word for
freaked out
, Calvin spoke up.

“
You’re
apologizing to
me
?” he nearly barked.

In his eyes, she could see
him
again. Calvin, and no one else.

“I’m the one who needs to …” he faded off, looked away from her. “There aren’t enough words.”

Fiona slid off the ledge, strode across the dirt until she stood next to him. “Don’t get discouraged, Calvin,” she said. “That was great. I was really pushing you that time, gave it everything I have. I knew I’d have to with Evie being our target.”

“
Great?”
Calvin hissed. “How can you say that? That was
weak.”
He gestured toward Evie with a long arm. “That is the woman I love–the very person I’m trying to protect and I approach her with those thoughts? With that … intent?” He raked a hand through his hair. “This is my worst nightmare coming to life. The idea that I might actually hurt her–it’s exactly why I…” He kept his back to Evie and shook his head, letting the sentence die. But Evie knew how to finish it. It was exactly why he broke up with her. He was regretting it already–taking her back.

Fiona straightened up. “It was your first attempt, Calvin, and you didn’t lay a hand on her. You want to get better? Let’s go again.” In a hurried rush, Fiona strode back over to her ledge and spoke as she climbed up, the effort tensing her words. “This time, try to be more aware in the initial trespass. Before it happens, try focusing on something so you’ll recognize the intrusion right away. You know it’s coming, so work at identifying the very first sign.”

Calvin turned to Evie, squinting in concentration. “Alright. I’m ready.”

***

“Calvin, you’ve got this in the bag,” Fiona said. “I mean, I had you for a total of seven seconds that time, and you didn’t even move. I don’t stand a chance against you. I don’t think Jocelyn will either.” She looked at Parker. “You’re up.”

Calvin appeared reluctant as he handed over the blade. Parker looked nervous. He ran his fingers through the golden strands of his hair, the way his brother always did.

It was Calvin’s turn to stand as guard now. Evie watched as he readied himself to protect her. He was tight and tense, and already looked angry. His fiery glare at Parker seemed to warn and dare him all at once.

Parker walked beyond the boulder where Calvin had sat, explaining that the distance would buy him more time. He sat flat on the ground, gave one last, shameful glance to Evie, and then looked away.

An eerie silence set the tone, put a pressing tension in the air that caught in Evie’s next breath. This was real, at least the suggestions were. Fiona’s prompts would push Parker, hard and fast, provoke him to harm her. Calvin’s tensed body exuded heat as he stood by, prepared to intercede, the pained expression still set on his face.

“Hey,” he shouted over at Fiona. “There’s no way you can go full force on him. You know that, right?”

“I’ll take it easy,” she assured. Her pale forehead scrunched up in concentration.

It went quiet again. And that’s when Evie noticed a cold, metal plate forming, taut against her chest. She looked down to see a brass piece of armor beneath her shirt, and puzzled only for a moment. Calvin did not return her questioning glance. Instead, he stood with his glare firmly fixed on his older brother.

Feeling a bit safer now, she followed his gaze, watching Parker for the first sign of struggle.

It came. First on his face, then in his shoulders and neck. She braced herself, felt Calvin tense up as well, ready to respond.

Evie blinked; she must have, because in one breath Parker was across the way, and in the next, he stood in a hovering stance above her, the dagger clenched angrily within his fist. A crazed sort of frenzy poured from his eyes.

She flinched away from the blade centered high above her, eyes clenched shut, when she heard a loud ruckus below. She squinted her eyes open to see Calvin and Parker wrestling on the ground. Calvin had his brother’s arms pinned behind his back, his knee firmly against his head, pressing him into the dirt.

“Ouch! Jeez, Calvin. I snapped out of it, okay?”

Calvin glared down at him, fury etched on his handsome face. He didn’t budge. “Is he still under?” he asked through clenched teeth, glaring at Fiona.

“No, I’m not still under.” Parker’s voice came out muffled. Calvin looked to Fiona, sighed impatiently.

“No,” she answered. “I withdrew the command as soon as he teleported.”

Calvin gave a satisfied nod and let up on his brother.

“I wouldn’t have done it, Cal. I’m not a killer,” Parker said, scowling at him. “I barely had a chance to come-to.” He dusted off his pants and smeared the dirt off his face with his sleeve.

“Don’t act like you were getting around to it. You weren’t going to pull out of it at all. You were about to put that dagger straight through her heart.”

Fiona spoke up. “That’s my fault. Parker, I didn’t realize that you might teleport.”

“Teleport?” Evie said, finally finding her voice. “You guys can teleport?”

“Just Parker,” Calvin said. “And he’s not very good at it.” He threw Parker an angry glare. “Until now, anyway.”

“Wow, Parker. You’ve never done that involuntarily. You must be starting to naturally rely on that ability–that’s good,” Fiona said.

“
Is
it?” Calvin came to a stand, face still red with fury.

“Yes, Calvin. We want Parker to use every ability he’s been gifted. It will help you all. Obviously, it’ll need to be used under the right circumstances.” She pointed at Parker. “No teleporting during this phase. You’re going to have to work on that. For now, we’ll have to go back to using a muse. But make one that looks like Evie this time. He doesn’t want to cause her harm. Seeing her face is one of his defenses.”

Evie gathered that Calvin had been unwilling to create a muse that resembled her. There was no argument this time.

Parker looked over at Evie after brushing himself off. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Parker,” Evie said. “Even if you could’ve fought it off in seconds like Calvin, it wouldn’t have been enough. Your ability put you here instantly.”

Calvin lifted Evie off the altar, set her next to Fiona on the nearby ledge and kissed her forehead. The gentle manner conflicted with the tension that radiated from his body.  

He set his focus on the altar as an exact replica of Evie appeared. The mused victim lay there on the rock slab, wrists bound in twine. It was an eerie feeling for Evie, watching her, knowing the fate that lay ahead. Perhaps Calvin had already seen this image in his visions.

“Can the muse feel pain?” she asked, feeling sorry for the stranger on the altar.

“No,” Calvin said. “They’re just a figment of my imagination. I could make a hundred of them if I wanted to, but not one of them would be real. They react as I would anticipate, respond as if they were experiencing actual pain or fatigue. But there is no soul connected to the physical form, no brain really. They feel nothing. They just respond as if they do.” He looked over at her, did a partial smile. “Strange, huh?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“It took me a while to get used to that fact,” Calvin said. “Fighting with fists was one thing, but once we started to use the dagger, I became reluctant. Fiona had to convince me that they were nothing more than responsive particles.” 

It was odd, but Evie could actually sense the absence of this girl’s soul, her look-alike there on the altar. She’d seen people that had given up on life before, while visiting the juvenile home with her father. She’d been certain, at times, that some of them had abandoned their very souls—so vacant was the look on their face, in their eyes, particularly. But she was wrong. This…thing, this muse before them, had no soul. It was clear. The haunting emptiness in her eyes made Evie shudder. What a strange illusion it was.

Hours of training flew by and Parker was still reacting in record time. Teleporting moved him in an instant, causing his ability to work against them. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to stop myself,” Parker griped. “This is impossible. It’s just the same outcome over and over.”

Evie knew they were all thinking the same thing. Parker had gotten to the point where he was thrusting the dagger through the subject. Luckily, Calvin would make the muse disappear at that point, sparing them the gruesome ending.

“Parker.” Fiona wore concern plain on her face. “Are you always this driven by impulse?”

Parker didn’t respond.

“Yes. He is,” Calvin said.

“Shut up, Cal,” Parker snapped.

“That’s something you’re going to have to work on,” Fiona said. “If you often act before you think, this will be much more of a challenge for you. I want you to pay close attention to everything you do until we meet again.
Think
before you act. Recognize the thoughts and desires that come to your head, determine whether or not you should act out and why.”

“I’m not five years old, Fiona,” Parker said.

Fiona looked at him with a certain challenge in her eyes before speaking up again. “We won’t practice this one anymore right now. You’re too fast physically and too slow mentally. It’s pointless.”

“Gee, Coach, thanks for the encouragement,” Parker murmured.

The girl on the altar vanished, and Calvin strolled over to where Evie sat on the ledge, her legs dangling over it. Once he was close, she reached out and rubbed his back, pressing the tense knots out of his neck and shoulders.

Fiona wasn’t through with Parker. “Those who put a little thought into their actions prove to be happier people in life, Parker. This should help you all the way around.”

Parker grimaced. “Yeah well, they probably lead boring lives too. Worried about doing wrong things, making bad choices, not just going with the flow and having a good time.”

“What’s fun about acting like an adolescent for the rest of your life?” Calvin asked. “What’s so great about doing something without thinking about it? Something you could regret?”

It went quiet, and Evie wondered if Calvin’s comment was in reference to the way Parker had kissed her in the club. Earlier, Calvin had explained Parker’s confession.

Parker finally nodded, his expression softening. “Fine,” he relented, “I’ll work on it.”