Chapter 30
Thirty
IZZY
Words from the book Soraya lent me flit through my mind.
Banshees…
Harbingers of death…
Their screams signaling the end…
I think of the eerie trance Lissa found herself in when she led me to the barn, where the first woman was murdered. Her blood-curdling scream. The vacant look in her eyes when she arrived at the picnic. Her unhinged jaw. The blood.
Fuck, could it be true? Could Lissa truly be a banshee?
My foster sister absently brushes her hand over the back of the couch, her gaze faraway and vacant.
“I know about the paranormal,” she says softly. “Hale and Gerry had no choice but to tell me after…well…after what happened. They claimed they didn’t know what I was, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. A banshee. A screaming woman. The woman in white.”
She gestures towards her all-black ensemble with a snort.
“Lissa?” Jake chews on his thumbnail. “Are you sure? I mean, just because—”
“I’m sure,” she interrupts, turning towards him. “I don’t know how I am. It just feels…right, you know? I’m a banshee.”
She hefts her chin in the air, emulating a confidence I’m not sure she truly feels, especially when I notice her lower lip trembling.
“Now, I just need to figure out what this means and how to control it.” A pensive expression colors her face as she glances down at her hands, which still rest on the back of the couch. “If I can stop death before it happens…”
“Lissa, don’t put that much responsibility on yourself,” I tell her gently, wanting to comfort her but unsure how.
She just looks so…broken, so adrift, like a twig whipping around in a turbulent sea. It almost reminds me of Jake, when he discovered the truth about who he is and what he can do.
“I might be able to save people, Iz,” Lissa whispers earnestly. When she glances up at me, tears glimmer in her eyes, crystallized prisms that refract the light. She squeezes her eyes shut, and when she reopens them, the tears have vanished. “I’m going to save people.”
Then, without another word, she turns on her heel and stomps away, her dyed hair cascading behind her.
Jake and I watch her go and then exchange a look—similar to the one we shared when Seth left.
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand our foster siblings,” Jake muses with a shake of his head. “Or any pre-teen, for that matter.”
“Poor Lissa.” My heart hurts for her, an almost physical pain.
A shadow descends over Jake’s features, and he shifts his weight on the sofa. “Yeah.”
I can tell he’s thinking about when the truth came out about him.
It turns out, the real Jake died in a car accident years ago. This Jake is nothing but a clay statue imbued with powerful magic.
“Jake…” I begin helplessly, but he shakes his head, wordlessly telling me to drop the subject. So I do. “Have you heard about my bio fathers?”
Jake flashes me a relieved smile and nods once. “Only what I’ve overheard eavesdropping.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “Silas and Mr. Remington are your fathers?”
“Apparently.”
I still don’t know how I feel about that. They both lied to me for months, and I’m pissed. Really, really pissed. Yet another part of me is desperate to learn about my past and my birth mother. What truly happened to her? Did my fathers love her? How did I end up in the foster care system?
“And who is this Travan fellow everyone keeps talking about?” Jake continues, scratching at his jawline, where the hint of a beard resides.
“I’ve heard that name before,” I tell him, thinking of the witches.
Everybody seems almost…scared of him. But why? Who is he?
“Are you going to call them?” Jake arches an eyebrow.
“I should, shouldn’t I?” A wave of nervous energy ripples through me, and I find myself fiddling with the hem of my shirt.
“So…?” Jake presses.
“So…the witches took my phone. I have no way of contacting anyone. Unless…” I stare at him expectantly, and with a roll of his eyes, he digs his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me.
“I have Silas’s name saved under Boss Man.”
Silas owns the movie theater Jake and I both work at. Well, worked at, until it burnt down in a freak accident.
“Maybe I’ll just text him,” I murmur.
Jake gives me a disapproving stare. “Izzy.”
“Email?”
His eyes narrow.
With a huff, I open his contacts and click on the one labeled Boss Man. Then, before I can chicken out, I dial the number and place the phone to my ear.
It rings.
And rings.
And rings.
Relief fills me. Maybe he won’t answer, and I can just leave a message. Maybe he’ll—
“Hello?” Silas’s familiar gruff voice floods the line, and suddenly, my hands are slick with sweat.
I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but hold the phone in a white-knuckled grip and pray I don’t pass out.
“Jake?”
Jake gestures for me to say something, but I can’t. Words fail me.
You can do this, Izzy!
I clear my throat and tentatively croak out, “Silas?”
There’s a beat of silence, then I hear him whisper, “Isabella?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Another awkward silence descends, and I swear it’s hellbent on suffocating me. A noose coils around my neck and tightens. “I think… I think we need to talk.”
“Yes,” Silas replies simply.
Then more silence.
Jake rolls his eyes, reaches for the phone, and tugs it away from my numb fingers. He holds it to his ear.
“We’ll meet you at Corner Café in an hour,” Jake tells Silas.
He pauses, listening to whatever Silas says on the other line, and a frown touches his lips.
“Yes, I’m with her now. At Hale and Gerry’s house.
” A beat. “What do you think I’m doing? Obviously I’m having my wicked way with— No, no, no.
I would very much like my balls to remain attached to my body, thank you very much.
” Beat. “No, I don’t want to see what the inside of my skin looks like. Yes. Yes. Okay. See you then.”
Jake hangs up and tosses the phone onto the cushion beside me.
He throws his head back with a groan. “Damn, I thought Silas was scary normally, but knowing he’s your bio dad—”
“Don’t say that,” I interrupt, flinching.
Jake lifts a brow. “Say what?”
“The D-word.”
“Dick?” He blinks up at me innocently, and I shove his shoulder.
“Asshole.”
“I can’t say asshole? That doesn’t start with a D. It can have a D in it, of course—”
“Stop!” I whine, shoving him again.
But his lightheartedness served its purpose. I no longer feel as if there’s a one-thousand-pound weight on my shoulders, pushing me into the ground.
The two of us sit in companionable silence, shifting so we’re side by side on the couch, reclining slightly.
“You’re coming with me, right?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly. “To visit Silas and Kyle?”
“Of course. We’re ride or die, remember?
Or ride and…kill. Mill and kill? Hmm. I’ll have to think on that.
Though I would strongly prefer that we not murder anyone, thank you very much.
” He nudges his shoulder against mine, a tiny smile unfurling on the corners of his lips.
“Are you going to message your bro hos and tell them you’re here? ”
Heat erupts in my cheeks instantly. I can’t help but remember my threesome with Grayson and Ethan. It was completely and utterly perfect, which means it’s been playing on a continuous loop in my head
“I will,” I tell him. “But…”
“After you meet with your birth fathers?” Jake finishes for me.
“No. I mean, yes, but no.” I blow out a breath. “I want them there with me. I do, but…”
“But…?” Jake presses.
“I honestly don’t know.” I shrug helplessly, my mind going a million miles an hour.
How can I explain to Jake that I’m confused about my feelings for the different men in my life?
I had sex with Ethan and Grayson, and both of them have confessed their love for me.
I have feelings for Ansel, who’s trapped in the covenstead, and my vice principal, who’s currently feral.
I’m mated to Ashton, who’s an asshole, and Reid, who thinks he’s undeserving of love.
Everything is so confusing and convoluted, and I’m terrified I’m going to fuck everything up.
“How about this? I’ll send a text to the guys myself telling them you’re safe and here with me. They’re probably still at school—if they even went today. That will give you some time to figure out what to say to them, okay?” My foster brother takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
How did I get so lucky to have him in my life?
I truly love the shit out of him.
“That would be amazing. Wait. Why aren’t any of you at school?” It’s a Friday, and all three of my foster siblings should be in class.
Jake chuckles mirthlessly. “Hale and Gerry called the school and told them we’re on ‘vacation.’ None of us wanted to go this week after everything that happened.” Frown lines knit between his eyes. “I’m just happy you’re home and safe, Iz. Truly.”
“Me too.”
Even as I think that, a zing of anxiety sizzles along my nerves.
I’m safe for now, but how long will that last? And what about my family? Will my presence unintentionally drag them into a war we have no chance of winning? I don’t know where those macabre thoughts come from, but once I think them, they remain, cloying and oppressive. Panic claws at my gut.
“Iz?” Jake watches me cautiously like I’m a ticking time bomb seconds from exploding.
I will my hands to stop shaking. Maybe the fire burning in my chest will cremate the lump in my throat, making it easier to breathe.
It’s fine.
Everything’s fine.
All of us will be fine.
I just wish I believed that myself.