The Dysasters (The Dysasters #1)

“I should spend more time with the three of you. I knew Matthew was struggling, but I’ve been so wrapped up in myself I haven’t wanted to face it. I’m sorry, Mark.”

“Eve, let’s be honest. You’re only wrapped up in yourself because our father is using you as a living drug for his addiction. When was his last fix?” Mark shot the question at her.

“The night we got back from Missouri.”

“That was three days ago. Three days. I saw him this morning, Eve. He looked like he was ready to crawl out of his skin. Do you remember when he used to only syphon your jewels when you’d manifested one because you invoked your element?”

“Yes.” Eve drew her knees up and hugged them tight, resting her chin against them. “How could I not remember? It wasn’t bad then. Father was only helping me.”

Mark snorted. “I think that’s more of his bullshit manipulation, but I know that’s an argument I’m not going to win. So, how long did he used to go between crystals?”

Eve raised her head from her knees and narrowed her eyes at her brother. “You know that answer as well as I do.”

“Yeah, I do. But as well as you? I don’t think so. I think you’re so mired in Father’s addiction that you can’t see how bad it is.”

“That’s bullshit. No one knows how bad it is with Father except me. I’m the one he uses! Me, Mark! Not you—not Matthew—not Luke. It’s always been me!” Eve’s voice broke as tears spilled down her smooth, ebony cheeks.

“Sssh, don’t cry, little sis. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Mark reached out and caught a tear on his finger. The drop of water balanced there, perfectly preserved through his bond with the element. Then he opened his mouth and dropped it onto his tongue, making Eve shake her head as she wiped her eyes.

“It’s disgusting when you do that,” she said.

“But you stopped crying. Eve, I’m just trying to get you to think. You love him too much. You’re too loyal to him.”

“How can you be too loyal to someone who has raised you?” Eve said.

He answered her question with a question. “How long can he go between fixes?”

“It used to be a month or so.”

“But now?”

“Since we lost Cora and Foster a year ago he’s gotten a lot worse.” Eve felt smaller and smaller as she spoke, but the words seemed to pour out of her, her brother’s questions setting her free from the dam of loyalty that usually kept them contained. “At first I understood. He was upset. He loves Foster and Cora. When they disappeared I thought it was going to destroy him.”

“So you invoked your element, knowing the crystal that appeared would need to be syphoned by him, and he would get the benefit of whatever properties that crystal contained.”

Eve nodded sadly, dropping her head to rest on her knees again. “It’s my fault, Mark. I insisted. And I only invoked crystals that would calm and soothe him. I thought … I thought I was helping.”

“Little sis, it’s not your fault he’s an addict. That’s like blaming the bartender for pouring an alcoholic a shot of whiskey.”

“It feels like it’s my fault.”

“How many days can he go between fixes now?” Mark repeated the question gently.

“Three. At the most.”

“Damn. I knew it was getting worse. I didn’t realize it was that bad.” He took her hand in his. “You have to start telling me these things. We have to work together.”

“To what end, Mark? Do you really think I could ever harm Father?”

“I think you won’t let anyone hurt your brothers—not even Father.”

Instead of responding, Eve’s gaze went to the horizon, which was when she noticed the blue August sky had begun to change to a watercolor pallet of yellows and oranges as the sun descended into the ocean. She squeezed Mark’s hand before dropping it and standing, brushing sand from her shorts.

“I have to go. I’ve left him alone too long.”

“You’re going to conjure a crystal.”

Mark hadn’t phrased it as a question, but Eve answered anyway. “Yes. I have to, Mark.”

“Okay … okay. I get that, but can I make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“Think about what you need instead of what he needs,” Mark said.

Eve’s dark eyes widened. “You mean stop using amethyst all the time like I have been.”

“What are amethyst’s properties?”

Eve answered by rote. She knew the properties of every crystal, stone, jewel, and rock that rested in the bosom of earth so well that her response was as easy as breathing. “Amethyst is a stone of spirituality and contentment. It focuses energies on calming and soothing. It also facilitates stability, strength, and true peace.”

“I can see why you choose that crystal for him. But if I told you that along with being soothed I need help focusing on my analytical reasoning and protection against fear, envy, rage, as well as a mental boost—something that would help get rid of my sadness so that I could think more clearly—what crystal would you conjure from earth if I needed those things?”

Eve chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully and then said, “Well, there are a few that would work, but my instinct says carnelian would be best.” She studied her brother. “Mark, I would let you syphon from me. You know that, don’t you?”

“Oh, little sis! No, no, no. I struggle with my own demons enough. I don’t need anything added to them. There’s a reason Father’s addicted. He’s not bonded to earth. He wasn’t meant to share the element with you. But you are earth. Conjure carnelian and hold it close to you for as long as you can. He can last another few hours.” Mark stood, also brushing sand from his tall, lean body. “I’ll go to him now, buy you some time.”

Eve hugged Mark tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“We’re in this together. Don’t ever forget that,” Mark said.



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P.C. Cast, Kristin Cast's books