Page 46 of Torn Ivy
“Unless Death is in on it, which, let’s face it, he more than likely is.”
“Fuck.” The crystal spreads across the ceiling, creating a kaleidoscope of reflections that show different versions of possible futures. In most of them, there’s blood.
“They want you emotional, off-balance. Easier to manipulate. The Wraiths aren’t just killers - they’re a psychological weapon. The threat of them is often enough to ensure compliance.”
Pinky purple magick fritzes around me as I process this information. The Syndicate isn’t just sending assassins - they’re sending their most sadistic team, knowing exactly what they’ll do to my aunt.
But they’ve made a crucial mistake.
“You can’t save everyone,” Ramsey says softly, watching as my power begins to stabilise, focusing into something deadly rather than chaotic.
“Watch me. Neither of us dies tonight.” I head for the door, my power humming with lethal plans. Reality bends slightly around me, responding to my clarity of purpose.
Stepping out into the storm, I let my power flow freely. Pink and purple energy dances around me, responding to my rage and determination. Let them watch. Let them think they know what I’m planning.
The thing about poisons is that they work best when you don’t see them coming. The Syndicate wants to play games? Wants to test my loyalty. Fine.
But they don’t know something crucial: I’m not just Poison anymore. I’m not just a shifter assassin. I’m a witch and a chaos wielder related to Death. I’m something new, something evolved, and they’re about to learn exactly what that means.
The game is on, and this time, I’m not playing by anyone’s rules but my own.
Time to show them why you don’t back a poisonous vine into a corner.
It tends to grow in unexpected directions, and everything it touches dies.
The storm clouds begin to rain purple fire.
It’s deeper and darker than what I started out with.
It’s evolving.
Let them watch.
Let them worry.
The hunt is on.
21
IVY
The streets shimmerwith untapped potential as I walk, each step leaving diamond-like footprints that fade to stardust. My power hasn’t just evolved in the last few minutes, it’s become something entirely new, something that doesn’t play by the old rules. But that’s exactly what I need right now.
First things first: intelligence gathering.
“Show me,” I whisper to the Thornfield campus, which is covered in a hazy mist that has nothing to do with the weather. My power responds. The magick spreads through the concrete beneath my feet, creating a web of awareness. I can feel five distinct signatures of wrongness moving through the shadows. The Wraiths are already here, positioning themselves.
They’re good, I’ll give them that. But I’m better. Because while they’re watching me, waiting for me to make a move toward Cathy, they don’t realise that I know exactly wheretheyare.
My power isn’t just chaos anymore, and evolution, by definition, adapts.
I find a quiet spot on the campus, around the back of the main building, and lean against the wall, closing my eyes.Magick spirals out from me in all directions, carrying my consciousness with it. I can feel every rat in every sewer, every spider spinning its web, every cockroach scuttling through the walls. Life, in all its forms, ready to be adjusted.
The Syndicate thinks they know what I can do, but they haven’t seen anything yet. Yes, this will out me in a big way, but who cares? If I’m being honest with myself, I think Ramsey is wrong, and they know everything already.
They’re trying to scare me with their countdown, their threats, their elite kill squad. But they’ve forgotten something about me, or maybe it’s something they never knew in the first place. I’m not just fighting for myself anymore. This isn’t about loyalty to The Syndicate versus love for my aunt, which, let’s face it, is thin on the ground. But family is family and all that bullshit.
This is about advancement versus stagnation. Change versus control. The future versus the past.
