Chapter 19 Faye
FAYE
Ian was gone – locked up beneath the temple.
Knowing he couldn’t get to her helped Faye breathe a little easier.
Still, she only managed to sleep for an hour or two, and when she rolled over, Peter was gone again.
She found it hard to get back to sleep, unsure whether it was the adrenaline in her system or her thoughts about how she had kissed Peter.
Recalling his startled expression made her blush.
She wished they could’ve spoken about it, but he had already left.
Kissing him had felt like breathing oxygen; it was nothing like what she had experienced before.
With Ian, all intimacy was intense and consuming, leaving her feeling empty.
With Peter, it was the opposite. She felt energised and empowered, as if she could take on the world and still have enough energy to bake a three-tiered cake with sugar flowers.
Still, there was no point in thinking about kissing for now.
She pushed the thoughts away until Peter reappeared.
Throwing on her sunflower-printed dungarees and trainers, she found the plaster on her neck gone, the attack erased. Peter’s doing? She had some time before opening to do whatever she wanted. Without the threat of Ian keeping her within Foxford’s borders, she hopped in her truck.
The roads were empty this early, so she rolled down her windows and let the fresh morning air and the scent of trees fill her senses.
Blaring her music, she sang until her throat hurt, not wanting the road to end.
Only when she realised she was driving down a familiar dirt road did she turn down the music.
Faye hesitated to leave the truck, afraid her scent would linger here.
Then it struck her that she didn’t need to fear being smelled or heard.
Her instinct to protect herself, despite knowing that Ian was securely locked up, took her by surprise. Doctor Ocean had warned it would take some time for her overactive nervous system to adjust to her new normal. Anxiety washed over her as she got out to face their cottage.
Instead of the familiar rose bushes and yellow door, she found a burned-out, crumbling shell.
She left the truck and stood before what had once been her home.
The beams that had supported the thatched roof had collapsed, the windows blown out, and she heard the crackle of breaking glass as she moved closer for a better look.
Nothing was left of the floral curtains she had made from scrap fabric when they’d first moved in, and their wooden furniture had turned to ash.
The only remnants of her garden were the charred red bricks she had used to outline her flowerbeds.
Kneeling down, she picked up a brick before dropping it again. All those hours spent in the garden, and now it was all gone. That garden had given her purpose and kept her sane until she convinced Ian to let her work at Stoker’s. I wonder what he burned first, the garden or the cottage?
This destruction could only be Ian’s reaction to finding her gone after returning from the Hunters’ custody.
The nail was still in the door where the coven had posted the banishment notice.
She should have felt sad, but instead, she felt relieved – there was nowhere to be dragged back to.
Their home was gone, he was gone, and she was truly free.
After Faye’s morning adventure, she opened Stoker’s thirty minutes late.
She hadn’t expected the queue waiting for her, and she barely had time to tie her apron before opening the door.
Clearly, the new breakfast menu and desserts were a hit.
She had to thank the prepping for the competition for the latest menu.
Coming up with three different desserts for the three rounds was proving trickier than anticipated.
Then again, she might not need three recipes if she was eliminated after the first round, but she was trying to be optimistic.
The morning flew by, thanks to the steady stream of customers.
Various breakfast croissants, yoghurt parfaits, savoury and dessert pies were all sold out by noon.
She would have more time to prep for the competition if she hired someone to help with the café, but there would be time for that in the future.
Closing up early on sell-out days meant she got to work on more recipes.
“Sorry for the wait! I’ll be right with you,” she said to a customer, adding a mocha with a cupcake-shaped chocolate dusting to the to-go counter.
Being so busy was doing a good job of keeping her mind off things – like how she’d slept with Peter and woken up to find him gone again.
She wished she hadn’t fallen asleep and let him escape again.
She blushed, thinking about what he’d said about not wanting to be friends at the lake, how she’d agreed to go to the Autumn Festival with him and kissed him.
What had she been thinking? She hadn’t. She’d acted impulsively for the first time in years, and though she didn’t regret it, she wondered if she had managed to frighten Peter off.
But they had made a date – an actual date. Could she even date a Grim Reaper? Was that allowed? If Gregory was angry enough to take Peter away from Foxford after just seeing him leave her bakery, then there was no way he would let them be together.
Faye fidgeted with the ties on her apron, unable to believe she was even thinking about dating again.
Ripping out Ian’s fangs and agreeing to go on a date with Peter Matherson all in one evening!
She didn’t know who the hell she was becoming, yet she liked this new side of herself, especially if it led her to Peter.
Agreeing to the date, even if it wasn’t until October – months away – was throwing away the rules.
Maybe the Matherson rebellious streak was starting to rub off on her.
If she wanted to be with him, she would.
She’d spent so long thinking she wouldn’t even have a future, but now she was worried about not having a future with him. But even if a future for them was impossible, that didn’t mean they couldn’t have now, did it? Distracted, Faye nearly burned herself on the coffee machine.
Get a grip. She smiled, forcing herself to focus, and returned to the register. “What can I get for you?”
“I was wondering if you had a moment to talk,” Mrs Matherson said from the end of the counter, not looking too comfortable.
Then again, Gwendoline always looked stiff.
Faye couldn’t imagine how the woman would react if she knew about her kissing Peter.
Was that why she was here? To warn her to stay away, because their being together was against the laws of nature?
Faye’s stomach dropped. Or did the coven know what she had done in the temple last night?
She wasn’t sure which was worse – banishment or losing Peter.
“Hey, I was here first,” Mr Rodriguez said, waiting at the register. Faye forced a smile. They had no reason to inspect Ian’s coffin, and she was sure Benedict would cover for his brother.
“Don’t worry, Mr Rodriguez. I’ve your carrot cake and double espresso waiting for you at the end,” she told him. “Mrs Matherson, I’ll be right with you.” She hoped she wasn’t in trouble; Gwendoline could make anyone feel guilty with a simple glance.
Gwendoline sat by the front door and waited patiently as Faye finished with the next few customers in the queue. Taking off her apron, Faye sat beside Gwendoline, offering her a black coffee and a slice of vanilla cheesecake. Mrs Matherson was a no-nonsense woman, so she kept it simple.
“Thank you. Please let me pay you for it,” Gwendoline said, offering an almost-smile – a significant gesture from her.
“Please put your purse away. It’s the least I can do after last night.”
“It’s my duty to ensure no one is harmed in Foxford, especially our magless. However, I wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay. I wish you could have witnessed Ian’s sentencing, but magless aren’t permitted inside the temple,” Gwendoline said bluntly.
Faye wondered if that last part was a probe; at least she hadn’t mentioned Peter. Maybe her visit really was just about Ian’s attack.
“Thank you, but I didn’t want to attend. You locked Ian up and threw away the key, which is more than I could’ve asked for.”
“Hopefully, he’ll have learned his lesson when we reassess his case in a few years.
If not, he’ll be handed over to Hunters to face the sun,” Gwendoline informed her coolly.
It couldn’t have been easy for her to say, since the same fate had befallen her husband – but unlike the late Mr Matherson, Faye didn’t have a single doubt that Ian deserved to be executed.
“I can’t thank the coven enough for standing up for me – for your support over the years, even when I didn’t want the help,” she said.
“We only wish we could’ve done more. How are you coping?” Gwendoline asked. It wasn’t like her to check in on anyone. She wasn’t one for talking about emotions.
“In a twisted way, I’m relieved it came to a head.
I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder; I hated knowing he was just out there.
Even if the attack wasn’t one of the better moments of my life, I don’t have to worry about him coming after me again.
” Faye recalled all the awful things Ian had said about the Matherson family. “I’m sorry for what he said to you.”
Gwendoline lifted her chin. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. He was only trying to provoke me.”
“Still, it can’t have been easy for you to hear, and I think you’ve done an incredible job as a mother. Peter and Benedict have saved me more than once, and they didn’t have to. How they treat women is a credit to how they were raised.”
Gwendoline looked taken aback by the praise. “That’s very kind of you to say.”
“I mean it,” Faye said firmly.