The Night of the Comet had reached its peak. Above Mystic Ridge, the sky was no longer black; it was a bruised indigo, sliced open by the glowing, ethereal tail of the celestial visitor. Below, the town square was a sea of flickering candlelight, but the real heat was rising far from the crowds, near the old stone ruins of the original town gates.
Silas stood amidst the shadows of the crumbling masonry, his silhouette sharp against the ghostly light. He didn't have to wait long. The air suddenly rippled, the temperature plummeting as a familiar, arrogant presence materialized from the dark.
"You always did have a flair for the dramatic, Silas," Jax said, his voice dripping with a casual, cutting amusement. He stepped into the clearing, a half-empty bottle of bourbon in one hand, his leather jacket creaking as he moved. "Meeting in the ruins? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"
Silas didn't turn around immediately. "I thought it was fitting. This is where it started, Jax. This is where we died the first time."
Jax let out a sharp, jagged laugh and took a long pull from the bottle. "Correction: this is where you whined about dying. I, for one, found the transition quite liberating." He walked closer, his blue eyes gleaming with a manic intensity under the comet's glow. "So, why the summons? Is it time for the big 'little brother' lecture again?"
Silas finally turned, his face a mask of cold, emerald fury. "You're going too far. Caroline Forbes is walking around town like a hollow shell because you're using her as a personal canteen. You're leaving a trail, Jax. Again."
"Caroline? She's a delight," Jax shrugged, circling Silas like a shark. "She's grateful, really. I give her more excitement in one night than this pathetic town has given her in seventeen years. Besides, she tastes like sunshine and neuroses. It's addictive."
"She is a human being, Jax! Not a vintage!" Silas roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "You saw what happened in 1864. You saw what they did to Kora because they couldn't distinguish us from the monsters you made us out to be."
Jax's expression flickered at the mention of the name, the amusement momentarily replaced by a dark, simmering resentment. He stopped his pacing and leaned into Silas's space, the scent of alcohol and cold ozone radiating from him. "Don't you dare bring her up. You were the one who let her burn, Silas. You and your 'humanity.' You thought you could hide in plain sight, playing house while our nature was screaming for blood. I was honest about what we were. You were the liar."
"I was trying to protect her!"
"You were trying to cage her in a life that wasn't hers anymore," Jax hissed, his voice dropping to a dangerous, guttural rasp. "And now you're doing it again. Lyra Vance. You look at her and you see a second chance. You see a way to fix your failure."
"Lyra has nothing to do with Kora," Silas said, though the lie felt heavy on his tongue.
"Please. Even the crows can see the truth. You're hovering over her like a guardian angel with clipped wings." Jax took another sip of bourbon, his gaze drifting toward the lights of the town square in the distance. "But here's the problem, brother. I'm here now. And I don't play the martyr. I want what's mine."
"She is not yours. She belongs to no one."
Jax smiled, a slow, predatory baring of teeth. "We'll see about that. I've already left my mark in her room. I've stood in her shadows while she slept. Do you know what she dreams about, Silas? She doesn't dream about your soulful stares and your poetry. She dreams about the water. She dreams about the dark. She dreams about me."
Silas moved so fast it was a blur, his hand clamping around Jax's throat and slamming him back against a stone pillar. The impact cracked the ancient granite. "Stay away from her. I am warning you, Jax. If you touch her, if you even think about hurting her, I will put you back in that tomb myself."
Jax didn't struggle. He leaned his head back against the stone, gasping for air but still grinning. "There he is. The ripper. The monster hiding behind the velvet curtains. I knew he was still in there."
"I am not you," Silas snarled, his grip tightening.
"No," Jax wheezed, his eyes turning a pulsing, midnight black. "You're worse. You're a killer who thinks he's a saint. At least I have the decency to enjoy the hunt."
With a sudden burst of strength, Jax shoved Silas back. The two brothers stood panting, the air between them thick with a century of hatred and shared blood.
"You won't kill me, Silas," Jax said, straightening his jacket and wiping a stray drop of blood from his lip. "You're too obsessed with your soul to stain it with fratricide. And that's why I'll always win. I'm willing to do the things you're too afraid to dream of."
"What do you want, Jax? Why are you really back in Mystic Ridge?"
Jax turned away, looking up at the comet as it began its slow descent toward the horizon. "I'm here for the reunion, Silas. You, me, the girl with the familiar face... and the others."
Silas froze. "The others?"
"The tomb under the old church isn't as airtight as the town council thinks," Jax whispered, his voice full of a dark, twisted glee. "The seals are thinning. The hunger down there... it's been aging like a fine wine for over a hundred years. Can you imagine it? Twenty vampires, starving, angry, and ready to reclaim the valley."
"You wouldn't," Silas breathed, horror dawning on his face. "You'd unleash that on this town? On Lyra?"
"I'd unleash it on the world if it meant I got to see you crawl," Jax replied. He began to walk away, his figure dissolving into the shadows of the ruins. "Enjoy the comet, Silas. It's the last bit of light this town is going to see for a very long time."
While the brothers tore at each other's throats, I was trapped in a different kind of nightmare. I was standing near the edge of the town square, watching the comet, but I couldn't focus on the beauty of the sky. I could only feel the gold coin in my pocket and the weight of Jeremy's dark drawings.
"Lyra? Are you okay? You've been staring at that tree for ten minutes."
It was Bonnie. She was holding a candle, her expression uncharacteristically grave. She didn't look like the bubbly cheerleader she usually pretended to be. She looked like someone who was hearing voices from a room no one else could enter.
"I'm fine, Bonnie. Just... overwhelmed by the crowd," I lied.
"Don't lie to me," Bonnie said, stepping closer. She reached out and touched my hand. As soon as our skin met, she gasped, her eyes flying wide. "Lyra... your energy... it's fractured. There's a coldness around you that isn't yours. It's ancient."
"Bonnie, you're scaring me."
"The comet... it's opening doors, Lyra," she whispered, her voice trembling. "My grandmother told me about nights like this. When the veil is thin, the things that were buried don't stay buried. You have to be careful. There's a shadow following you. Two shadows."
"I know," I said, my internal monologue echoing her fear. The shadows have names. And they're fighting over who gets to claim my soul.
I looked across the square and saw Caroline. She was standing with a group of people, but she looked like a mannequin. Her eyes were fixed on the woods, her expression blank. Beside her stood Jax. He had returned from the ruins, appearing out of nowhere. He caught my eye and blew a mock kiss, his smirk widening as he saw my terror.
He's not just a monster, I thought, clutching my candle so hard the wax began to deform. He's a puppeteer. And we're all just strings.
"I have to go," I told Bonnie, breaking her grip. "I have to find Silas."
"Lyra, wait!"
But I was already running. I pushed through the crowd, through the smell of lavender and burning wax, heading toward the library. I knew he'd be there, or near the ruins. I needed to know what Jax had said. I needed to know if the fire was coming back.
As I reached the outskirts of the square, the music faded, replaced by the heavy, rhythmic thrum of the comet's tail. The silence of the woods felt like a trap.
"Silas!" I called out.
The shadows shifted near the library entrance. Silas stepped out, looking more haggard than I had ever seen him. His clothes were torn, and there was a dark bruise forming on his jaw.
"Lyra, I told you to stay with the crowd," he said, his voice strained.
"I saw Jax," I said, catching my breath. "He was with Caroline. He... he looked at me like he had already won. What happened? Did you talk to him?"
Silas walked toward me, his movements heavy. "He's planning something. Something bigger than just haunting you. He's talking about the tomb. The vampires they trapped in 1864."
"The ones you mentioned in the archives?" I felt a cold sweat break out on my neck. "He wants to let them out?"
"He wants chaos, Lyra. He wants to burn this town down to show me that I can't protect anything." He reached out, his hand hovering near my face before he dropped it. "I have to find a way to reinforce the seals. I have to go to the old church."
"I'm coming with you."
"No. It's too dangerous."
"Silas, look at me," I said, stepping into his space, my voice firm despite the rattling of my heart. "I am already in the middle of this. Jax was in my room. He's feeding on my best friend. My brother is drawing pictures of your death. I am not staying in the square waiting for the fire. If we're going to fight this, we do it together."
Silas looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of hope—or perhaps just a desperate gratitude—in his eyes. "You have your mother's spirit," he whispered. "And Kora's fire."
"I have my own fire," I corrected him. "Now, let's go."
We turned toward the dark path leading to the ruins of the old church, the comet's light casting long, distorted shadows ahead of us. In the distance, I heard Jax's laugh, a sharp, cold sound that seemed to come from the trees themselves.
The night was far from over. And the dialogue between the past and the present was just getting started.