Sorceress, Interrupted - By A. J. Menden Page 0,83

to be with someone. Maybe it’s because I have an average life-span, but I know life is short and at any moment something can take it all away. It’s better to have my intentions out there in the open. It drives me insane how you blow hot and cold: first you’re all over me and acting mad that I’m not showing any interest, and then you’re pushing me away because I’m getting too close. You’re going to have to decide what you truly want. Do you really want to be left alone for all eternity, or do you want to be with the rest of humanity? And you’re going to have to decide pretty damn quick.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because I think my bandage is about to burst.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

I stared at him. “What?”

“It’s hitting me again,” Cyrus said, and started babbling in binary. Then he pitched forward onto the floor.

My heart leaped in my throat as I scrambled to his side. “Cyrus, hold on,” I begged. The edges of panic were settling around me. “Just stay with me.”

He snorted. “Oh, now you want me to stay with you.”

I don’t know how he was holding on to his sanity enough to joke; it was a testament to the strength of his will.

“Give me a chance to figure something out,” I said, cradling his head in my lap. “I could go get Wesley . . .”

“And what’s he going to do? You’re more powerful than him and we both know it. And you’ve already said this thing is beyond you.”

“He might know of some way to slow this down, buy us a bit more time.”

“He’s got a faulty memory, Fantazia.”

“You can’t just give up on me!” I snapped.

“Why not? You were ready to give up on me, saying this thing should have killed you instead of me and sounding happy about it.”

“That’s because . . .” But the words stuck in my mouth and just wouldn’t come out, despite how much I felt them.

“Because why?”

“Because you’re a better person than me,” I finished lamely.

He spasmed again and started mumbling more binary. I held on tight, shutting my eyes, hoping against hope that the hex would stop itself. Mentally I tried to reach out to my father, to call him back here. Surely he would have an idea of something to do to save Cyrus. Less magically gifted than I, faulty memory or not, he was our best chance.

Cyrus finished twitching, and he grabbed hold of my arm hard. Startled, I glanced down.

“Quick. Before it hits again, we’ve got to do something.”

“Like what?”

“You’ve got to help me to be able to concentrate hard enough to try to hack this spell. Sorcery. Hex. Whatever it is.”

“Hack it? What are you talking about?”

“I want to do what I was originally trying: trace it back to its roots so we can find the source of this mess. It’s Dylan, or whoever’s controlling him.”

“That’s how you ended up like this in the first place!” I said.

“That’s right. And now the hex is inside of me. If you can help me clear my head, maybe hold the hex at bay for a few moments, I think I can follow the line of it back from inside me to wherever it’s coming from.”

“I’d have to connect my mind to yours.”

“That’s probably true.”

“The hex could jump from your mind into mine.”

He nodded. “It could. And it might just kill you. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”

I actually felt a chill. “That’s not funny.”

“I never thought it was.”

His words dug into me. I hated to admit it, but he was right. If I really did crave death, as I said, why was I scared when he mentioned it?

I spoke carefully, making sure I understood what he wanted. “So, you think if I link my mind to yours and help you hold back the hex, you might be able to trace it and tell me where it’s coming from so we can go permanently stop whoever’s running it?”

“That’s the plan,” he said. He gave me a weak smile.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“It doesn’t work.”

“Metaphysically poking around at this thing might just make it worse.”

“It might,” he agreed.

“It could kill you,” I said, shivering.

“It might. But before it does, I might be able to get the right information for the Elite Hands of Justice to stop this thing. So it’d be worth it.”

“But you’d be dead!” I said.

“So?” he asked.

I felt my eyes tear up. “Stop it. You know I would care.”

“Why?”

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