Legacy(102)

“No, I came here to save you,” he said. “From Hildegarde. Like I said, she was planning to betray you, to capture you, and turn you over to us. She figured it was her way in.”

“I don’t think I needed saving from some over-muscled louse or some lady with really bad hair extensions.”

“But you’re not going to turn it down, right?” He raised his arms at each side, like he was questioning. “In fairness, there were a couple other reasons to come visit. One was to ... introduce myself. Formally. Now that some of the cards are on the table and things are in motion.” He turned to Winter. “There is one more, though.”

Winter stood off against him, lowering his frame to a defensive stance. “No. You won’t—”

Sovereign moved against him in a flash, grasping him by the front of his shirt and lifting him up. “Yeah. I think we established a long time ago who has the power between you and me, Erich.” He turned to me. “Anything you want to say to Old Man Winter before I finish him off?”

“Ummm ...” I stuttered a little, not really sure what I could say. It came to me after about a second. “Don’t kill him,” I said quietly. “He’s not worth it. I’ll put him in a jail cell and he can sit the rest of this fight out.”

I saw him think about it for a second or two, a grimace plastered all over his youthful face. “No. I’m sorry, no. I think the world needs to know something, and he’s going to be my messenger, my example.” He turned and looked Winter in the eye. “If you inflict pain on Sienna Nealon, I will visit it one thousand fold back upon you.” He reached out with his free hand and touched Winter in the chest, just touched him, delicately, as if he were administering the slightest of pokes.

Winter grunted, then moaned, and fire sprang from the spot on his chest where Sovereign had touched him, fanning out in an explosive burst across his clothing and his body. His screams rose over the sound of the crackling flames as they raced over him, consuming his flesh.

I dodged away, my hands over my face, turning from the light of the burning pyre as it consumed him, burned him, and the screaming didn’t cease until I heard the thud of a body hitting the ground, followed by muffled moans from the scorched and blackened form of Erich Winter. The smell was horrific, like someone had char-roasted something under my nose, and it smelled nothing like chicken.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sovereign said, sighing. “I could have flown him off, I guess, before I did it, but I figured you two might have some last words to exchange afterward.” He hovered closer to me, but not so close I felt like I could take a swipe at him. After what I’d seen, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to. “I like that you wanted to spare him. I think it shows that ... whatever he did to you, it didn’t really work. It didn’t change your heart.” He started to reach out, and I stayed right where I was, frozen in place, as he came closer, as he brushed my cheek then let his hand hover there. “Whatever you’ve done, there’s still an abundance of good in you.”

I looked up at him, felt the gentle touch of his hand on my cheek, and I stared into those deep, brown eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked.

“I’m sure,” he said so soothingly it was like the most heartfelt reassurance I’ve ever heard. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. There’s so much good in you.”

“Really?” I tried to keep my voice level and reached up for his hand, brushing it, holding it against my cheek. “You think there’s good in me?” I reached up with my other hand and anchored his open palm to my face as I pulled his face close to mine. My voice turned low and harsh. “Why don’t you come inside and find out for yourself?”

I forced his hand against my skin, hard, pressing it to me as he stood there, dumbstruck, and I counted the seconds, waiting for something to happen. I expected him to flee, to fight back, to run, and I waited for my power to work over the sound of the wind blowing sporadically through the construction site, counting the moments and waiting for it to do something, anything.

After a minute passed, he gently tugged his hand away. “I know you didn’t intend for that to be meaningful ... but for me it kind of was.”

“How did you do that?” I asked, staring at him, my last desperate gambit blown.

“You’ve met someone else before that your touch didn’t effect, didn’t you?” He was a little coy, acting mysterious, but I could see just the hint of hurt behind his eyes.

“Andromeda?” I asked, feeling my bare fingers brush against my palm and remembering the touch of the girl who had died almost without a friend. And now, I knew, completely in vain.