Chapter 9: Wants and Needs (revised)

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[Author's Note:This begins the revised Chapters 9 to 15 (uploaded Nov/Dec 2017), please re-read these before continuing on in the book as many things have changed from the initial draft - in particular, some of the nuances of the bond and Mills and Keel's relationship/interactions (starting right here in this chapter). I want things to make sense for you as we move into the latter half of the book together and this means fixing some of this broken stuff along the way. I hope you dig the changes to Mills and Keel's story/trajectory in the upcoming chapters. And, for now, I'll make myself available to answer any additional questions you may have in the comments section of this chapter. Thanks! - M.]


The buzz of Keel's blood faded after about an hour, lowering me from those sky-high heights back down to my new reality, taking with it any hopes of a new super-powered existence

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The buzz of Keel's blood faded after about an hour, lowering me from those sky-high heights back down to my new reality, taking with it any hopes of a new super-powered existence. One can only dream, I guess.

Yet even as the long-overdue weariness set into my bones with a dull, uncomfortable ache, I could not sleep.

Instead, I found myself hunted – and haunted – by more and more memories. It shouldn't have been surprising given how much I once looked forward to sneaking away from my tiny, dreary cell below and coming here. But I thought they would run their course, or at least lose definition beneath the heavy wool blanket of exhaustion. Alas, no, if anything their edges grew sharper, more cutting, more cruel. Turning the lights off did little to help, Keel's room remained imprinted in my head, crystal clear.

Arthos had lied. Maybe not intentionally - it was possible he really believed what he told me - but it was a lie just the same. He'd promised freedom, but that's not what this looked like.

This room and its memories were a fancy new prison, and no matter which way I turned or how I positioned my head, arms, legs, body, I could not shut off the nostalgic stimuli it fed me.

Sure, I could walk out – use my magic on anything and anyone that dared get in my way – but by agreeing to come here I'd gone all scorched earth on my former life, and if the League of Sorcerers didn't already know I'd broken the contract I signed, they'd receive word soon. And as we'd had the misfortune of discovering during the siege at Lucia's mom's shop, I was no match for even a small faction of them, let alone an official extermination squad.

No, I'd made my bed – this bed, apparently – and I would have to sleep in it. But the Sandman continued holding out. Maybe he didn't want me asleep when Keel showed up either.

Simply the thought of him and me here, alone, left a nauseating hurricane of anticipation and dread swirling in my gut. Keel had been so furious when the induction ritual had gone awry, madder than I'd ever seen him, and given that, a good outcome to our next encounter seemed a tad too hopeful.

But at least you have magic, right?

Unlike with his father, I'd be able to protect myself. I clung to that thought as if it were a bobbing life raft, and I was stranded far out at sea. It wasn't entirely soothing though, because I knew Keel could hurt me in plenty of ways that magic could not combat – like with this room.

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