Wanted (book 2 of Wielder series)

Chapter 27 - Friend or Foe

Every thought swimming in Alie's head died. Every joyful feeling chilled into horror. She knew everything about Michael, from the turn of his mouth when he smiled, to the scar on his left knee from when he'd tumbled through Mr. Powell's rosebushes at the age of twelve, to the rumble of his cough when he had a bad cold. She knew that he preferred salty over sweet things, and hiking the hills around their hometown. She knew what color shirt he'd always pick if she dragged him to the mall. She knew he owned one suit, a black one, that he'd worn only once, to his grandfather's funeral, and that he kept the service's bulletin folded inside the jacket's lining pocket.

   But looking at him now, it was like she didn't know him at all.

   The shape of his eyes was the same. So was the turn of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the fullness of his hair. The only physical difference between her Michael and this Michael was the color of his eyes. He could have been wearing colored contacts. It could still have been her Michael.

   Except that she knew it wasn't.

   The magic within her recoiled at the sight of him. Wrong, wrong, wrong, it cried, urging her away. Untrustworthy. Corrupted. Dangerous.

   Except that Michael had never been any of those things. Not once, in all the years she'd known him.

   She didn't understand how he could be any of those things, now.

   The moments that passed between them spanned both instantaneously and over lifetimes. She swayed unsteadily on her feet, feeling the ground spinning beneath her. This couldn't be happening. Michael couldn't be like them: like Commander Sole, and the emperor, and the Phantoms. Surrendered to the pull of selfish wrongdoing, willing to sacrifice anything and everything in their path so they could get whatever they wanted. Lost to bloodlust and power.

   It wasn't like him. It wasn't like him at all.

   No one reached for her as she sank into the snow, sitting slumped on her knees and staring sightlessly at his shoes. She couldn't feel the cold. She couldn't even feel her own heartbeat. Perhaps it had stopped from the shock.

   With a sigh that puffed a large cloud of fog in front of his face, Michael knelt in front of her. He didn't say anything. He didn't reach for her. He just waited patiently.

   When Alie finally found her voice, it came out broken. "How?"

   He was as still as a statue. "The Emperor's sister pulled me out of the Labyrinth. She said we were taking too long to die."

   Alie lifted her gaze. He watched her with such lack of emotion, such boredom, that it made her wonder all over again who it was she was actually talking to.

   Darrel spoke up from behind her. "Then, why aren't you dead?"

   "She doesn't care whether I live or die. She wants Alie dead." Michael glanced up at him, a twinge of annoyance bunching his brows. "So she turned me and sent me to kill her."

   Darrel took a threatening step forward. "Not on your life."

   "Relax." Michael dismissed him with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not going to kill Alie. Nothing could convince me to be that stupid."

   "But apparently you could be convinced to turn Evil."

   "You have no idea what it was like!" Michael snapped. He popped back up to his feet with a snarl that pulled back his lip and flashed his teeth. "How fast it came on. I didn't have a chance to decide what I wanted. It overwhelmed me."

   Through eyes fogged with tears, Alie tilted her head back and stared at the remnant of her best friend.

   Michael glanced down at her. He looked absolutely riotous, ready to tear apart the world in his anger. Some of that softened for her, but the fire in his ruby eyes did not die completely.