Page 71 of Truthfinder’s Promise

“Yeah, well, someone scared the shit out of me banging into my wards like a one-man wrecking crew,” she said sarcastically. “I had really hoped to never experience the pain of having my nails ripped off again.”

“Again?”

“Joking,” she said unconvincingly.

He took her hand, careful to avoid touching the wound. It bled too much, though it still had roughly half the nail covering the nail bed.

“You have a first aid kid in your car?”

She sighed, as if severely put-upon to be asked such a reasonable question. “Yes, under the passenger seat.”

“I’ll get it. Stay right here.”

She frowned. “How did you get here?”

He flashed her a grin as he walked out. “You have several cars, and the keys are meticulously labeled.”

He grabbed the kit from her car and when he knocked on the invisible boundary of the ward, she opened a door for him.

He placed the kit on top of the coffin and uncapped the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide spray he found inside. Meredith laid her hand flat on the sarcophagus lid and he got to work. The impact of the spray on a wound that ragged had to hurt, but she didn’t so much as flinch.

His anger—at her leaving him, coming out here alone—dimmed.

Placing a thick layer of antibiotic ointment onto a pad of gauze, he pressed it over the tip of her finger and wrapped it with medical tape. Again, she didn’t even twitch, just breathed steadily in and out.

“Thank you.”

She took her hand back while he swept everything into the kit and zipped it up. She hadn’t made a single complaint about the pain, and the things she kept saying about her childhood...

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said slowly, abandoning the kit to draw her in. “But what did your mother do to you?”

He thought she would put on that fake cheerful mask she wore like a second skin and deflect. For a moment, that response flickered over her face. Then she sighed and pointed to a word written on the wall to his left.

“Agonia?” he asked. “That’s…what? Latin?” Ancient languages weren’t exactly in his wheelhouse. Normally, it wouldn’t bother him or make him feel stupid, except he’d gotten the impression, from a few offhand things Jace had said, that her ex-boyfriend was genius-level smart. Which shouldn’t matter, except that Meredith was genius-level smart, though she tried to hide it, and it occurred to Jensen she might get bored with him since he wasn’t.

“Translated from Ancient Greek, actually. Everything is so much more mysterious and elitist if we say it in an ancient language. It more or less translates to anguish. Agony. Pain. That was my mother’s gift. That was her Aspect.”

“To…cause pain?”

Meredith nodded. “I’m sure it was quite useful in the less-civilized days of Aspect Society, back when we still went to war with other magical communities at the drop of a hat. One high level Agonian could drop two dozen Aspecters to their knees if they weren’t prepared and properly warded. They wouldn’t be able to hold so many for more than a few seconds, but a few seconds is plenty of time for the Battle Aspecters to sweep in and take everyone out. The problem is that there isn’t any place for the talent in the modern world, but it still crops up from time to time. Aspect is meant to be used.”

Jensen felt more than a little sick. “And she used it on you.”

Meredith shrugged. “Aspect use is a compulsion. We have to let it out, or we go insane.”

“Please tell me you’re not making excuses for her.”

“No. There are ways to manage Agonia. Ways my mother would have been taught from a very young age.” Here, Meredith hesitated. “We don’t blame a child for what they’re born as. But a power like Agonia, one that can cause so much harm…those born with it have to prove that they can control it. It’s an unbreakable tenet of our society that Aspect cannot be used to harm others.” Here, her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Unless, of course, that harm is commanded by Council edict. But all Agonia does is harm.

“My mother was smart. She had iron control. She did what was necessary from a young age to prove to the Council that she was more than capable of being a harmless member of Aspect Society. But she didn’t want to be harmless. I don’t know if that was her Aspect, or just her nature. But once she had everyone fooled, she used her Aspect the way it called her to. She just happened to use it on me more than most.”

“When did it start?”

She sighed. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t honestly know. The first time I remember, I was four. It was my birthday, and my father had taken the day off to spend with me. They argued about something and she sent him away. I wouldn’t stop crying. I think I told her it was her fault. She made it very clear to me that day that there were worse things than a ruined birthday.” She straightened, brushing ineffectually at the dust on her jeans with her good hand. “And that is all the reminiscing I will be doing today. If you want to help, figure out how the lid comes off this tomb.”