Chapter 17: Bloodlines and Boundaries
1392 Words
The moment Waiya’s fingers brushed against Justin’s, both their hands touching the small, twisted charm wrapped in a bit of waxy cloth, the air cracked.
It was like lightning without the light—just raw, invisible pressure sucking the sound out of the room. The charm pulsed, then twisted like a living thing, and the world around them blinked.
Everything went still.
And then everything changed.
⸻
The floor was gone.
The walls melted like fog.
And suddenly, they were standing not in her room, but inside a world painted in shadows and trembling firelight.
Waiya’s breath caught. Justin was right beside her, just as dazed. But here—in this vision—their bodies felt lighter, less defined. Almost like spirit echoes, tethered only by the heat of the charm.
They were in a circle.
Surrounded by hooded figures.
A fire burned in the center, but it didn’t warm. It crackled with an oily light, casting long, unnatural shadows that moved even when the flames didn’t. Symbols were carved into the dirt, written in a language Waiya didn’t recognize but felt deep in her chest. Blood soaked the soil—some old, some fresh.
And there, across the fire—
Donquavious.
But not as she’d last seen him.
His body was leaner now, stripped of its former grime and chaos. He wore black robes stitched with bones and a crown made of animal teeth. His eyes glowed amber-red, locked onto a floating object in front of him: another charm, just like the one Waiya held.
He couldn’t see them.
Not yet.
Justin tensed beside her. “This ain’t just a memory,” he muttered. “He’s doing this right now.”
Waiya stared at Donquavious, heart thundering. “He’s summoning something.”
The fire flared, and something answered.
From the smoke above the flames came a growl so deep it rippled across the earth like thunder underwater. A shape emerged—long, jointed limbs, slick, obsidian skin, eyes like white holes in space. It was not human. Not anything from this plane. And it bowed to Donquavious.
A pact sealed in silence.
Waiya’s scar burned.
Justin growled low in his throat. “We have to get outta this vision.”
But just as he said it, Donquavious’s head snapped up.
He looked straight at them.
No recognition—just a tilt of the head. Then a wicked smile.
“She’s watching,” he said, not to them, but to the hooded followers. “Let her watch. Let her see what I’m building. She can’t stop it. She’s already bleeding.”
Waiya gasped. She looked down.
Her scar was open again, dripping crimson onto the floor of the vision. But she wasn’t afraid. She clenched her jaw and reached for Justin’s hand.
“We go,” she whispered.
The charm in her real-world hand pulsed.
And the vision shattered.
⸻
They slammed back into reality like someone yanked them from deep underwater. Gasping, coughing, Waiya and Justin scrambled back on the bed, the charm now smoking between them on the covers.
Justin’s heart was pounding. “The hell did we just see?”
Waiya wiped her nose—more blood. “He’s not just trying to kill me. He’s trying to replace me. Take the bloodline. Corrupt it. Twist it. That creature he summoned—it was feeding on the same power we call on. Only darker.”
Justin cursed under his breath, chest heaving. “And he knew we were there.”
“He’s further than we thought. We don’t have time to wait anymore.”
She looked up at him, voice hard. “We need to talk to Ánáli again. And we need to protect this house.”
Justin nodded, but his hand lingered on hers. “We will. I swear to you, I’m not lettin’ him take anything else from you.”
Before Waiya could answer, a knock rattled the door—three quick taps, then silence.
They both froze.
Justin stood slowly, already reaching for the weapon stashed beneath his hoodie. Waiya grabbed a candle and lit it with trembling fingers.
Another knock.
This one… softer.
And behind it, a voice.
“Justin? It’s me…”
Justin’s stomach dropped.
Waiya looked at Justin, eyes wide.
“That’s someone from my past,” he whispered. “But they’re not supposed to know where I am.”
Waiya stepped beside him, candle flickering. “Then it’s time we find out what they came here for.”
Justin didn’t wait. He moved with quiet precision, stepping toward the front door like a shadow with a heartbeat. Waiya stayed behind, letting the flame from the candle lick and dance with each step, illuminating the hallway in a golden shimmer. It wasn’t just light now—it was a ward, a small shield against whatever waited outside.
The knock didn’t come again. But the presence on the other side hadn’t left either.
Justin unlocked the bolt with a soft click, and then—slowly—he cracked the door.
A woman stood there.
Tall. Built like she knew how to survive hard winters and harder men. Her locs were streaked with silver even though she couldn’t have been older than thirty-five, and her eyes—amber, just like Justin’s—flashed with a warning. A scar split one brow. She held nothing in her hands, but her energy said she didn’t need to.
“Hey, little brother,” she said softly. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”
Justin’s face locked up like stone. “You’re not supposed to be anywhere near me, Cass.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But I had to come. Because whatever you’re messing with—it’s bleeding through. I saw it. The charm. The thing in the fire. The pact.”
Waiya stepped forward now, candle still glowing, eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?”
Cass’s gaze drifted to her. “Because I’ve seen that ritual before. A long time ago. Back when I was stupid enough to try to stop it alone.”
Justin stepped outside and closed the door halfway behind him, shielding Waiya instinctively. “You ran off. Left me holding everything when the circle fell apart.”
“I didn’t run,” she hissed. “I survived. There’s a difference.”
The silence stretched, heavy with ghosts.
Cass took a breath and reached into her coat. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled out a bundle wrapped in leather string. “You’ll want this,” she said, holding it out. “It was left for you. From back then. From him.”
Justin didn’t move.
Cass’s voice dropped. “Daddy knew you’d end up fighting the same thing one day. He told me not to give this to you unless I felt the shadows moving again.”
Justin’s fingers twitched. He reached forward—hesitant—then took the bundle from her. The leather was old, worn, but held something hard and warm inside. Something familiar. Something humming like it remembered his name.
He looked up slowly. “You’re staying?”
“No.” Cass glanced over her shoulder like something was watching her. “I’ve already been followed once tonight. I’m going to lead them away. But Justin—he’s not working alone anymore.”
She tilted her chin toward the door. “You’re not just fighting for your soul anymore. You’re fighting for hers too.”
And with that, she vanished into the night like a flicker of smoke.
Justin shut the door gently and turned back to Waiya. She was still standing there, candle low.
“What did she mean… ‘not working alone’?” Waiya asked.
Justin didn’t answer immediately. He walked over to the couch, sat down slowly, and unraveled the leather bundle in his lap.
Inside was a small obsidian blade.
Ritual-carved.
Etched with runes that pulsed the same way the cursed charm had.
Waiya sat next to him, eyes locked on it.
Justin finally spoke. “It means Donquavious isn’t the only one pulling strings.”
Waiya swallowed. “Then who is?”
Justin looked up, and his eyes—usually calm like the deep woods—were full of fire now.
“I don’t know. But whoever it is… they’ve been planning this longer than either of us have been alive.”
- Writer
