Premonition of Peace (Her Immortal Monsters #3)

Chapter 12

twelve

NATHALIE

Leaving Katherine behind felt like shedding some weight, but it was only a temporary relief. As I drove away, the familiar pressure began to build again, like I was Atlas, struggling to hold up a world I wasn’t sure I could bear. The past few months had been a relentless barrage of challenges, each one adding to the burden until I felt like I might collapse under the strain.

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the leather cool and smooth against my palms. The road stretched out before me, a seemingly endless ribbon of asphalt leading me back to the chaos I had left behind. I couldn’t shake the conversation with Kat from my mind. The revelation that our mother wasn’t actually our mother was already a devastating blow. Part of me felt a grim relief that a woman as vile as Dolores wasn’t truly my blood, but that small comfort was overshadowed by the tidal wave of new questions and problems. To learn that my existence was intended to house my evil ancestor who just wouldn’t stay dead? It was enough to make anyone spiral into madness.

Each revelation raised the stakes in this deadly game. I had been almost positive I was contending with The Morrigan, but I had thought it was a simple matter of exorcising her from Sasha’s body. I had hoped the solution would be straightforward. But now, with the knowledge that The Morrigan was destined to pass from host to host, inevitably targeting me, I realized how wrong I’d been. Removing her from Sasha wouldn’t end this. It would only bring her closer to me. Everything felt so irrevocably screwed up, like a puzzle where none of the pieces fit together anymore.

One thing was clear: I had to get The Morrigan out of Sasha’s body before she could do any more harm. Then handle her before she reached Kat. And long before she got to me. The question was how. I had an answer, but part of me bucked against it. The implications weighed heavily on me. I wasn’t just considering the risk to myself; I was contemplating the broader consequences of wielding such power.

Inside, I was torn between the necessity of action and the paralyzing fear of making things worse. The stakes were incredibly high, and I couldn’t afford to falter now. But was I truly prepared to wield such power? The pressure of my choices felt suffocating, and the thought of making a mistake weighed heavily on me. What if the solution I was clinging to wasn’t enough? What if it only led to more chaos and suffering?

My mind raced as I tried to piece together a timeline. How long had Carissa been dead? Had The Morrigan killed her as soon as Sasha’s body became available? A knot of guilt tightened in my chest as I remembered how I had unwittingly given The Morrigan directions to Sasha.

I needed to think, to strategize.

A small café I knew about was nearby, so I pulled into their lot and put the car in park. I slipped into my memory loci. Normally it was a place of comfort. A mental sanctuary where different facets of myself gathered around a table to debate and plan. Today, the atmosphere was tense. The arguments hadn’t stopped since I had left Katherine.

The Warden sat back in her seat, arms crossed, her expression resolute. “We need to use the Eye. It’s our best chance to sever The Morrigan’s tie.”

Peace, always the voice of caution, shook her head, her legs folded beneath her in a posture of anxious energy. “But the Eye is unpredictable, and the way we use it is risky,” she countered. “It could cause more harm than good.”

“It is a risk.” Ann tilted her head side to side, her analytical mind weighing the options. “But it’s a calculated one. The Eye is the only thing powerful enough to disrupt a soul tie.”

“Without it, we’ll be sitting ducks,” The Warden emphasized, her eyes hard. “We’ll be waiting for The Morrigan to kill her host bodies and jump to ours. We need to be prepared. Using the Eye is not just about severing the bond. It’s about survival.”

“She’s right,” Analytical Nat agreed. “We don’t get second chances with Morgan Le Fay. This is it. The Eye has the power to do what we need.”

Caretaker, ever the nurturer, looked pained. “But using the Eye could hurt us too,” she said softly. “We have to consider our well-being.”

The arguments bounced back and forth, the four versions of me usually in sync now on completely opposing sides. I stood at the head of the table, too agitated to sit. The debate mirrored the internal conflict tearing at me—a tug-of-war between options and risks, each one carrying potentially devastating consequences.

As the voices rose in intensity, Bad Nat sauntered in, her presence commanding attention. She crossed her arms over her chest, a smirk playing on her lips as she surveyed the discord. Finally, she turned to me, her eyes gleaming with a rare clarity.

“You already know what to do,” she said, gesturing to the others. “Having us discuss it is wasting time we don’t have, and you know it. Do what you need to, Prime.”

For once, I found myself agreeing with her, without question. Deep down, I knew what had to be done. The risks were immense, but so were the stakes. If we didn’t act, The Morrigan would continue her reign of terror, moving from one host to the next, leaving destruction in her wake. I had to protect everyone, even if it meant putting myself in danger.

“I am using the Eye,” I said, my voice firm and unwavering. “The decision has been made.”

The room fell silent, the weight of my words settling over us like a heavy fog. The Warden nodded, her expression approving. Analytical Nat looked relieved, while Peace and Caretaker exchanged worried glances. But even they knew there was no other choice. The Eye was our only hope.

As I left the memory loci, my resolve hardened. I didn’t want to do this. In fact, I hated the entire idea, and I wished anybody but me could be responsible for this particular solution. But this was caused by my family, my ancestor, and because of the pull of my magic. I had to be the one to do this. I had to be the one to act, to take control of this situation before it consumed us all.

Between leaving the parking lot and driving back to my apartment, I felt eerily calm, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside the loci. New Chicago was cold and dreary, not unusual for a November day, and it reflected the emotion within me. My mind buzzed with plans and contingencies, each scenario more terrifying than the last. The Eye was as powerful as it was dangerous. The potential for backlash, for unintended consequences, loomed large in my mind.

But there was no turning back now.

When I pulled in front of my apartment, I didn’t bother wasting time. I also didn’t want to give myself the chance to back out or overthink it. I darted out of my car and jogged up to the building. My whole body felt like it was buzzing with nervous energy, but it was now or never.

I guessed Se?ora was of the same mindset because the moment I stormed into the shop, calling her name, she came out with a knowing look on her face. Hopping out of the way of one of her cats, I opened my mouth to talk, but she beat me to it.

“You’ve made your choice, haven’t you?” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement of fact, and I knew at that moment she must have seen me coming already.

Still, I nodded, feeling a mix of determination and anxiety swirling in my chest.

“Yes, I am sure,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. “I am ready for the Eye.”

For a moment, she simply stared at me, her expression inscrutable. Then, she sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly.

“You understand what you’re asking for, right? This cannot be undone, Nathalie. The Eye will change you in ways you cannot foresee.”

“I know,” I said, meeting her gaze, “but I need its power to stop The Morrigan.”

“The Eye will not do the work of defeating that witch for you,” she warned, her voice harsh.

“I know, but with the Eye, I can manipulate the objects of fate, right?”

The objects of fate were largely unheard of, but I needed them—the spindle that creates the threads, the loom that forms bonds, and the shears that can cut those threads and break bonds. Those would do what I needed to ensure that The Morrigan couldn’t get her hands on me. It was the only way.

Se?ora Rosara studied me instead of answering, her eyes searching mine. “And you’re prepared for the consequences? The Eye is not just a tool; it’s a living entity with its own will and desires. It will change how you see the world; how you interact with it.”

“I’m prepared,” I said, though the knot of fear in my stomach tightened. I knew there were many unknowns that could result from taking an ancient artifact into myself, and there was no way for us to predict the outcome. But what choice did I have? The Morrigan was too powerful to confront with ordinary means. “I have to do this. For everyone.”

Se?ora sighed again, a weary sound. “Very well. But I will need time to gather the necessary supplies.”

“What supplies?” I asked, a flicker of impatience creeping into my voice. I hated to be rude, but the longer we waited, the more time it gave The Morrigan to strengthen her hold on Sasha—or worse, kill her and move on to Kat.

Se?ora chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re asking me to remove and replace your literal eye, Nathalie. It’s not a simple process. I have surgical tools, and herbs for healing and protection. But I will need anesthesia. This isn’t something I can do on a whim.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. The reality of what I was asking for hit me with full force. This wasn’t just a magical ritual; it was a major surgery. I would do it regardless. I knew I had to for everyone’s sake.

“We may not have that much time,” I said, the urgency in my voice unmistakable. “How long will it take to get what you need?”

Se?ora regarded me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she nodded, her demeanor shifting from casual to serious. “I have some herbs that will knock you out. It’s not as precise as anesthesia . . . I assume you understand what that means?”

I swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Go and prepare yourself, then. I will get everything ready.”

As she turned to gather her supplies, I felt a strange mix of relief and terror wash over me. This was it.

There was no turning back now.