Torn Ivy (Thornfield Supernatural Academy #2)

27. Ivy

27

IVY

Travelling through Bram’s shadows feels natural. The Fae part of this power, which I still don’t understand, recognises the space between realms, understanding it not as darkness but as another form of balance. The natural counterpoint to light.

We emerge in Cathy’s back garden, materialising behind her prized rose bushes.

Stepping toward the back door, I test the handle. It’s open, and I shake my head, my mouth in a grim line. She never was all that concerned about security. I can see why now, knowing that she works for The Resistance. But still. That should make her more security conscious.

“Cathy? You here?” I call out.

She enters the kitchen holding out something that looks like a laser gun. She lowers it when she sees me. “Ivy? What are you doing here?”

“We came for you?—”

“You need to leave. There are creatures coming?—”

“You know?”

She huffs at me as I cut her off, much like she did to me and her eyes narrow as she takes in our group. “Of course I know. I’m not some helpless civilian, Ivy. I’ve been preparing for this.”

I blink, taken aback, but then shake my head at myself. I should’ve known. The Resistance should have known… Something doesn’t add up here. “Preparing how?” I ask suspiciously.

She gestures to the strange weapon in her hand. “Prototype. It is designed to disrupt supernatural energy signatures. Should incapacitate most threats, at least temporarily.”

“Impressive,” Torin murmurs, eyeing the device with interest.

“We don’t have time for show and tell,” I say, forcing us back on track. “The Syndicate is coming for you, Cathy. We need to get you out of here.”

She shakes her head firmly. “No. I’m not running. They want to come for me? They are more than fucking welcome.”

I press my lips together at my aunt’s brash attitude. I suddenly see her for what she is. A badass bitch. It’s not that she didn’t care or love me. She works for a supernatural agency tasked to take down The Syndicate. Simple, really, now that I know. I can see everything a lot clearer.

“It’s not just the Syndicate anymore,” Tate explains quickly. “There are larger forces at play. Cosmic-level entities that make the Syndicate look like schoolyard bullies.”

“Life,” Cathy states. “I know.”

“Okay, so what are we even doing here?” I ask in exasperation, “If you are all in the know.”

“Beats the shit out of me,” she says with a shrug. “Why are you here?”

“Josh,” I mutter and then shake my head. “No. He isn’t a traitor.”

“I did not like that Katie,” Bram states emphatically. “She gave me the heebies.”

“Same,” Torin says. “My vampire senses went haywire around her.”

“What are you saying? Josh is in danger?” I ask, panicked. Ramsey would never forgive me if I left his boyfriend to die.

“Look,” Tate snaps, all of this getting the better of him. “We are about to be surrounded by these perfect being shitheads, and we are standing around here chatting. More moving, less talk.”

Too late.

Reality warps as two of those perfect beings phase through Cathy’s kitchen wall. Their movements are unnaturally smooth, and their features are too symmetrical. Where they step, the tile sprouts tiny, identical flowers. Life’s signature written in their every action.

“Down!” Bram shouts, his shadows surging forward to create a barrier between us and them. But where his darkness touches their perfection, it begins to transform, sprouting the same mathematical flowers in precise patterns.

My power reacts instinctively, recognising the fundamental wrongness of their existence. They’re living weapons of pure order, created to eliminate chaos.

“The shadows won’t hold them,” Tate warns, his anchor power struggling to stabilise the wild burst of my magick. “We need another way out.”

“Ivy Hammond,” they speak in unison, their voices carrying harmonics that make reality shiver. “The natural order must be preserved. All chaos must be contained.”

“Oh, piss off,” Cathy snaps. “Natural order, my arse. You’re about as natural as plastic roses.”

I hold back my snort as she levels her weapon at them and fires. Bram’s shadows explode, causing a backlash that knocks us all off our feet. My ears ring as I struggle to my feet, blinking away spots from my vision.

“Fuck,” Torin groans, already moving to put himself between me and the intruders. “That packed a punch.”

But when the dust settles, I see that Cathy’s prototype did more than just disrupt. Where the beings once stood, reality wavers, like looking through the heat haze. Their perfect forms flicker and distort, struggling to maintain cohesion.

“Ha!” Cathy crows triumphantly. “Take that, you symmetrical bastards!”

Her victory is short-lived. Even as we watch, the distortion begins to stabilise. Impossibly perfect flowers bloom from the cracks in reality, knitting it back together with sickening precision.

“Okay, new plan,” I say, grabbing Cathy’s arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”

She starts to protest, but Bram’s already moving. His shadows, still reeling from the weapon’s blast, manage to merge just enough to form a swirling portal.

“Go!” he shouts, strain evident in his voice. “I can’t hold it long!”

We don’t need to be told twice. Tate grabs my other hand, and we plunge into the darkness. Torin and Cathy are right behind us. Bram follows last, sealing the portal just as the beings lunge forward.

The shadow realm swirls around us, a dizzying vortex of darkness and half-formed shapes. Tate’s grip on my hand is an anchor in the chaos. Cathy’s presence is a bright spark of defiance, her energy pulsing with adrenaline and anger.

We emerge in a forest clearing, and the sudden shift from darkness to moonlight momentarily blinds us. As my eyes adjust, I take stock of our surroundings. Ancient trees loom overhead, their branches creating intricate patterns against the night sky. The air is thick with magick, old and wild.

“Where are we?” I ask, recognising nothing about our location.

Bram steadies himself against a tree, looking drained from the portal creation after Cathy blew up his magick. “One of the in-between places. A marginal space where the barriers between realms are thin. We should be safe here, at least for now.”

Cathy whistles, low and appreciative. “Impressive. I’ve heard rumours about places like this, but I’ve never actually seen one.”

“Yeah, well, enjoy the scenery while you can,” Torin grumbles, his vampire senses clearly on high alert. “Those things will find us eventually. We need a plan.”

“Find us?” Cathy sneers. “Oh no, dear boy. We are not going to hide out here while they hunt us. We are going to annihilate them. Ivy?” she says, hoisting her laser gun higher. “Are you with me?”