The Star Caster (12 page)

I can tell that he’s wondering what’s going on. Why am I so eager to do this now? He doesn’t understand, though.
He doesn’t understand what I’m doing. He doesn’t understand that some people have to do something, anything to gain control. I had to do that. I had to gain control of my life when my mother died – my true mother, Hilary. Sterren had to watch the Star Casters disappear, but that time has gone by. The death of my mother was fresh, a faded wound that could be easily torn open. And it
had
been torn by the death of my real mother. And then, the realization that I had been lied to for all of my life had ripped a hole in my soul; especially the knowledge that the person that had been lying to me had been my father. No, Sterren didn’t know what it was like to cry out desperately. He didn’t know what it was like to feel like this. And he would never know why I was going to do this. He would never understand.

I pull away from him, but gently. “I have to do this for him. It’s probably the only kind thing anyone has ever done for him.”

“But you’re going to help him kill a man, Danika. Don’t you see that?” His voice is franticly trying to get me to understand his side.

“I do,” I say slowly. “But I also see something more than that. I see kindness and compassion and love. I don’
t see the bad things.”

“None of this, nothing that he wants you to do is good, Danika.” Sterren is growing angry. His hands are fists at his sides and his golden eye, which I can see when he flips his hair from his eyes, is glowing.

I reach out and put my hand on his chest. “Sterren, I have to do this.”

“But you don’t have to do it willingly!” he shouts.

I step back, startled. Tears burst from my eyes and tumble down my cheeks. I don’t want him to see me like this, fragile and weakened from my own experiences, but he already has. So, the only thing I can do is run from him.

I rush forward,
silently begging Vick to begin walking. He does, and I follow him upstairs and out into the night air.

When I get outside, I stop. I’m out of breath from hurrying up those stairs and I
bend over, my hands on my knees, so that I can catch my breath. When I’m relaxed, and calmer from my argument with Sterren, I stand back up.

“Ready?” Vick and Val ask simultaneously.

I nod and take a deep, steadying breath. I stand there, watching the two of them as Sterren stumbles outside. He walks over to me and takes my hands. “I don’t know why you have to do this,” he says, “but I know that you must. And I want you to know that I am still here for you, and I will always be here for you.”

I smile and squeeze Sterren’s hands before letting them go. He’ll definitely be getting an earth-shattering kiss from me.
However, first things are first. “Okay,” I say as I look back over at Vick and Val.

Vick licks his lips, preparing himself for his wildest dreams. The eagerness in his eyes shows that he cannot wait to gain his heart’s
revenge, and I can’t help but stare at his scars, at the constant reminders of the cruelty he’s experienced. He must grow angrier every day; I know I would.

I
breathe to erase my thoughts, close my eyes, and reach up to pull the first star from my cheek. It slides easily, and that same sparkling heat tickles my fingertips. When the star is held firmly in my hand, I whisper the words that I am meant to say, and this time a new power surges through me. This is the first real star that I have cast. This is how it’s supposed to be for the Star Casters; they were supposed to want this. That is why we were created. We were created to help those in need of the wishes we had. We were created to provide hope and love where there was none. We were there to save human faith.

I open my eyes, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.
And as I throw the star into the sky and watch it race up to the heavens, I listen to Vick’s rough voice recite the rhyme:

“Star light, star bright – wishing star, you are mine.

I close my eyes at first sight and grant myself a wish tonight.”

When Vick finishes, he closes his eyes. He mumbles to himself before speaking aloud, and I can tell
that he’s preparing his words, ironing them out to make them right. He doesn’t want to mess this up in his eagerness. “I wish to bring my birth father to this place,” he says.

The thrumming power in my veins unleashes itself like a tornado. I feel the wind swirl around me and leave to do its bidding. My power is
neither light nor dark; it’s clear, a symbol that takes neither side. Within moments, a figure materializes before me, and a man tumbles to the ground. He is thin, so thin that I can see the ribs that stick out of his emaciated torso. He wears nothing but loose and dirty jeans. The look on his face proves that he is drunk and high. He is staring around him now, convinced that he is hallucinating. “Wow,” he says curiously. “This is much better than the last hit. It almost feels real.” Then he notices me. He whistles and wags his eyebrows. “Damn Sam, you make one sexy lass. Come over here and give me a smooch.” He leans forward and begins to crawl toward me. I shy away, disgusted by the man that gave life to Vick. He is repulsive.

“This is no dream, old man. This is your hell,” Vick booms. His voice echoes around us, and I am almost afraid that people will hear us and come out.

Vick’s father stops in his tracks. He turns around, squinting for the source of the noise. When he spots Vick, his eyes grow large. Then, he starts laughing. The sound is high pitched and squeaky, the sound of a lunatic. “Hey,” he says as he points. “The last time I saw you, I was about to murder you. But I wasn’t very good,” he clucks.

Vick growls.

The man on the ground stops laughing. He knows that something is up now. This isn’t normal for him. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks Vick.

“
I have brought you here,” Vick states.

“What for?”

Now it’s Vick’s turn to laugh. “You’ll see,” he says as he looks up at me. “I am ready for my second wish,” he states.

I nod and pull the star from my skin. I pray that Vick will choose a quick, silent death. I am not ready to see a third death. I’m only eighteen and I’m not ready to handle it all.
But, when I toss the star in the sky, I feel that same thrum of power. It vibrates this time, almost as if it can barely contain itself.

“I wish for this man, the ma
n with my blood, my birth father, to bring upon him his own, untimely death,” Vick says slowly, carefully.

The power within me pulls back before releasing itself and launching toward the man on the ground. Instantly, his arms begin to pull up, lifting themselves of their own accord.
He is afraid now, and he’s desperately trying to push them back down. However, the magic is much stronger than he is. Within minutes, the man’s hands are reaching for his throat, scratching the tender skin as he fights his own strength. He is growing tired, breathless from his hands gripping his throat, pushing against his windpipe. He is worn from his struggle to stop this madness.

I watch in horror as this man strangles himself with his own two hands.
The death is slow and painful. I can watch as his face changes from red to purple to the pale color of death itself. It takes about five minutes for the end to come, and by that time I am hopeless. I had been wrong, so wrong about Vick. I had felt sorry for him, sorry for his past, sorry for his awful childhood. But I hadn’t prepared myself for this. I hadn’t prepared myself for the delighted smile that crawled across his face at the death of his father, and I hadn’t been ready for the greed that flashed across his features as he turned back to face me. He was ready, ready to feel this power forever. And I was afraid of being stuck with him.

“Never!”
Val screams as he launches himself at Vick. Duh! He can read Vick’s thoughts, and he isn’t going to lose his wishes.

Vick
stumbles. Stunned for an instant, he reaches up to disarm Val, who is now attached to his torso. Val’s throwing crazy quick punches that slam against Vick’s head and shoulders. They look like they hurt, and I’m sure that they are bringing back memories. This means that when Vick catches up, he’ll be wild.

And i
t doesn’t take long for Vick to recover from the attack. When he does, he tosses Val aside like a doll. Val hits the ground like a rock, and Vick is headed my way.

I back up, feeling my racing heartbeat
pound through my veins. I have no idea how I’m supposed to get out of this situation now. It feels impossible, and I’m afraid that this is the end, that I’ll never see my father again, that I’ll never make him proud of me.

But, I had forgotten about Sterren, about his fierce need to protect me. He steps in front of me, and stays, even though Vick is now laughing at him. “Don’t, Vick. Don’t do this,” he says.

Vick just shakes his head back and forth. The glint in his eyes indicates that he is mocking Sterren, but Sterren doesn’t care. Instead, he stays, standing in front of me like a shield. Vick stalks forward, never stopping.

I reach out, afraid for Sterren. I was wrong about him. He knows what it’s like; he knows what it’s like to fight for control of something. That something had been me. He had been
fighting to control my destiny of freedom, and now he was close to losing that. He was dreadfully close to losing me forever.

“Sterren,” I whisper, “don’t do this.
Don’t protect me for no reason.”

“There are a million reasons to protect you,” he argues without even looking at me.

“No there aren’t,” I say as tears tumble down my cheeks. “I’m not worth it, Sterren. I was wrong, wrong for wanting to help.”

Sterren shakes his head and braces himself. Vick is so close, so close that
Sterren can barely say the words before he is upon us. But he does, and it is magical. “You, Danika, are worth everything. You are the reason why I have willed myself to exist all of these years. I have been waiting to love you. I have been waiting to spend my existence with you.”

And then, Vick is swinging.
His heavy, thick hands collide with Sterren’s side, and Sterren flies across the field. I scream and run after him, ignoring Vick. When he moves toward us, toward Sterren, I stand.

The familiar hum of power can be felt throughout my body. I use it to steel myself, and I swallow, preparing myself for what will come next.
I am angry, so angry at Vick. “Don’t you dare come closer,” I whisper angrily. I am finding it hard to contain myself right now, and whisper so that I don’t cry. Yep, I am an angry crier.

Vick smirks at me, unfazed by my threat. “What do you know about pain and anger, Star Caster? You so easily fell into my trap, into the sadness that I portrayed.”

I scoff at him. “You tricked me?” I ask him. I feel betrayed for some reason, probably because of the connection I
thought
we shared. But what had that been? Some sort of magic tie? Or had I been experiencing some form of Stockholm Syndrome? Whatever it had been, it had been wrong. I had been very wrong.

Vick is laughing, and it takes me a minute to focus on him.
“I needed to use you,” he said. “I needed to capture you.”

I have to fight with myself to keep my jaw from dropping.
Oh, he had tricked me. Oh, he had been so good at it, too. On the other hand, I had been gullible, like a child. How did I ever think that I would be a good lawyer? I’d hand the trial over like I was trading cards. Good thing I didn’t even have to waste my time on hopeless dreams anymore. Immortality changed that.

“I scarred myself,” Vick said triumphantly. “None of this happened to me. It only ever happened to Val, to Ego. They were the ones that were to
rtured and taunted as children. I stole their story like I stole their wishes, their lives. You see, they made the mistake of trusting me. I was the only one powerful enough to track you down. I was the only one strong enough to capture you. They were weakened by time and humanity.”

I look up into Vick’s eyes, believing his words. I was about to die or worse. He had no reason to lie to me any longer.

“I, on the other hand, am a monster. I was raised by wretchedly good parents that protected and sheltered me. Then, when my father lost his job, things changed. He fell into that nasty habit of drugs. My mother left him and left me as well. She couldn’t take me because of the reminders of pain that I would cause. So, I was stuck with the new version of my father. This man did no harm to me physically, but I was left in the company of his new friends. They, for a lack of better words, changed me. Their words and talk, their past experiences are now mine. We share those things now.”

“How?
What do you mean?” I ask.

Vick’s dark eyes, his scarred features, focus on me. “
I have a psychotic disorder. I take other’s problems and issues, and I make them my own. I can’t tell the difference between your pain and mine.” Vick shrugs and continues. “I was diagnosed when I was very young. It was the reason why my father changed; it was why he turned to drugs. It was why my mother left us; she couldn’t deal with either of our problems. But I, I relish in them, and that is why I stayed, that is why I am here today.”

I am so confused right now. This is so weird, and I can’t manage to grasp the situation.
What the hell is going on with Vick? What the hell is he talking about? He keeps going around in circles – obviously like a crazy person – but he also keeps changing things. He is freaking me out right now, and I don’t know if I should believe a thing he says.