Page 19 of Claiming Chaos
5
ASH
I left two days’ worth of bottled spells on the counter before we headed to the airport. At least, I hoped it would last two days. Between the rifts, Chrys, and Boston trying to get revenge for their library—if that was even why they were involved—I had my doubts. But they had Patrice now, and Miles was good at spell work. They’d be fine without me.
Hell, they might even be better off. Hecate knew their lives would be a helluva lot easier if I’d never been born. I lowered my gaze to my hands clasped in my lap. Chipped black polish partially coated my nails, which irritated me almost as much as the disarray in my library. I picked a piece off my thumb and flicked it to the ground.
A pair of black boots came into view in front of me, and I lifted my head. Chaos handed me a cup and sank into the chair next to me. Our flight boarded in twenty minutes, so I’d sent him on a coffee run to give me some space.
“I was hesitant to try this concoction you call a pumpkin spice latte, but I’m glad I did. It’s decadent.” He pressed the cup to his lips and tipped it, closing his eyes as he sipped. “It’s only available during this time of year?”
“That’s part of what makes it so good.” I took a drink and lowered the cup to my lap, toying with the paper sleeve. “What’s it like in your realm?”
“I’m not sure anymore. It’s been centuries. Why do you ask?”
“What was it like before you were imprisoned? Where did you sleep?” I cut my gaze toward a man practically yelling into his phone. Would it be bad of me to cast a silencing spell on him? If I were only doing it for myself, yes, it would. But, surely, I wasn’t the only person who wanted to throw his phone across the room. Maybe for the greater good…
“In my realm, I don’t require sleep. Otherwise, it isn’t all that different from here. The only humans there are those who sold their souls into torture, but we have food and drinks, games, and entertainment. I assume it hasn’t changed.”
I peeled apart the insulating sleeve and dropped it into my lap as a sickening sensation formed in my stomach. “Are my parents and Cinder being tortured?”
He inhaled deeply, going silent for a full three seconds. “I don’t know.”
I set my cup and the ruined sleeve on the table next to me. “They’re in Hell because of me. If they’re being tortured, it’s my fault.”
“No.” He clutched my hand.
“Yes.” I pulled from his grasp. From the moment I possessed myself, my life had been nothing but go, go, go. Adrenaline rushes, vim depletion, danger, sex, exhaustion, sleep. This was the first time I’d had downtime in weeks, and sitting there in the airport, waiting to get on a plane, my mind finally had a moment to contemplate how much of a mess I’d made of my family, my coven, my town.
He set his cup on the floor at his feet and rested his hands on his knees. “Your family is in Hell because of the choices they made.”
“Choices they wouldn’t have had to make if not for me.” I stared at the man yelling across the way, willing him to end the effing call for goddess’s sake. The woman next to him huffed, glaring at him as she gathered her carry-ons and moved to the next row.
“Ash…” Chaos angled toward me.
“Screw it.” I whispered a silencing spell and directed my magic at the cacophonous culprit. He yelled a silent hello a few times into the phone before shouting can you hear me twice. Jabbing his thick finger onto the screen, he ended the call, looked at the teenager next to him, and spoke, but no sound emanated from his lips.
“Freak.” The teen scoffed and moved two aisles away.
“Maybe you’re right.” I turned to Chaos. “Maybe I should go to Hell with you. I could trade places with them. I stay, and they go home. My mom can help my sisters mend the veil from their side. I’m not there to destroy them all.” I shrugged. “It makes sense.”
He shook his head. “It’s not a viable solution, and I never should have suggested it.”
They called our flight for boarding over the speaker, so I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. “I cause nothing but trouble everywhere I go. C’mon. Let’s see what kind of mess we can make of New Orleans.”
Patrice had booked us on a budget airline with no assigned seats. The man I’d hexed sat in the second row, and I whispered an undoing spell as I passed, moving to the back of the plane, as far away from him as possible. I found an empty row and scooted in, claiming the window seat. Chaos took the middle, leaving the coveted aisle seat empty. A woman saw the free space and made her way toward us, but when her gaze locked on Chaos, she swallowed hard and turned around to find another seat. The same thing happened with a man in a suit and a teenage boy in a hoodie.
I elbowed Chaos. “Are you doing something?”
“Just giving us privacy so we can talk freely.”
I wanted to argue it was rude, but I had to admit if I could warn people away without wasting my vim, I’d do it all the time. “If the flight’s full someone will have to sit there.”
Thankfully, it wasn’t full. I shoved my bag beneath the seat in front of me and buckled my seatbelt. “Do not, under any circumstances, use your chaos magic on this plane. No fire either.”
“What is the purpose of a seatbelt? If the plane falls from the sky, I doubt remaining in our seats will provide safety.” He buckled up and angled his body toward me.
“Sometimes there’s turbulence. The plane will hit pockets with different air pressure and jerk down and up. Seatbelts keep us from falling all over the place.”