Chapter Thirty-Four
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ANGEL
I look away from his hardened stare, afraid he’ll see the fear in mine. “Maybe it can be switched back.”
“Yeah right,” he snorts, but there’s no amusement there, only raw hurt. “That’s why we never stayed in one place. Mom was convinced people were trying to kill us.”
“What people?”
“Aliens? The FBI? The people in the toothpaste commercials?” He rolls his eyes. “Who the hell knows? At ten years old, I was too busy hustling the streets, doing whatever I had to just to keep both of us from starving to death to care.”
My heart breaks thinking of little Dominic, alone on the streets of Hollywood. “I can’t imagine what you—”
“Don’t feel sorry for me.” He sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, his back to me. “We survived, and I turned out just fine. In the end, people got what they deserved.”
I know this part thanks to Milly, but I can’t exactly interrupt with a full confession now .
“That’s why you started BTN.” I tug the sheet over my chest as I kneel behind him. “To make men like that director pay. Men like Paulo Bellini. It all makes sense now.”
It makes sense, and a year’s worth of anger dissipates into thin air.
Dominic sighs and presses his thumb to his temple. “The point of telling you is to explain why all of this”—he waves his other hand around the bedroom—“whole damn thing happened.” Bracing both hands on the mattress, he turns around and rakes his eyes across my face. “A few days before we met, I was at Moss Valley Wellness Hospital visiting my mother. Well, technically I was visiting the director of the hospital. A man on Greg Rosten’s payroll.”
“What does Rosten have to do with this?”
“I went after him, and he sued me. Moss Valley isn’t cheap, and I was already behind on payments, so Rosten made sure to speed the process along. They gave me four weeks and then threatened to dismiss her.”
“But why would Rosten want to…” The rest of the words get lost as the picture becomes clear. “Oh God,” I gasp. “It was him, wasn’t it? Rosten was the director who assaulted your mother. That’s why you went after him.”
I’m going to be sick.
Dominic gives me a sad smile. “Isn’t it ironic that I never knew his name until six months ago? Dr. Everly, Moss Valley’s director, likes his experimental drugs, one of which, it seems, works as quite the truth serum.”
In a rush of confusion and truth, the shell I’ve hidden under the past week shatters. Shame and fear combine with a very unlikely source of solidarity. So, I make my decision right then and there.
“I want to meet her.”
As soon as we step off the elevator at Moss Valley, Dominic grabs my arm, glancing around like he expects someone to pop out from around the corner. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
No, but I have to.
“I’m sure.” I smile, hoping it’s more convincing than it feels.
“Right. It’ll be fine.” He nods as we reach her room, knocking as a formality as he pushes the door open. “Mom?”
“Who’s there?” I hear a suspicious voice yell from inside the room. “Are you part of the coven?”
The what?
Dominic just sighs, opening the door wider and stepping deeper into the darkened room. I follow him, making sure to hover near the threshold. “No, Mom. I told you last time. The coven can’t get into your room. Not after the, uh…” He rubs his forehead, and squints at the ceiling. “The sageing,” he says, finally.
“Do I look like a moron to you, son? They’re witches, not demons.” A frail hand shoos him away as a surprisingly young face peers around the corner. “And who is this?” Dark blue eyes narrow. “Are you a witch?”
Dominic closes his eyes and tips his head back, a pink tinge dusting above the heavy stubble on his cheeks.
He’s blushing.
Dominic McCallum is blushing.
Suddenly, I don’t see the ruthless man. I see the sad little boy. The one who supported himself and his mother on the dangerous streets of West Hollywood. The one who grew up way too fast, jaded and angry, a lifetime of responsibility on his shoulders.
And I want to take care of both versions.
“Nah.” I shrug. “Never was one for covens. I like to do my own thing. I have been called a bitch, though. Too close, or can I still come in?”
She stares at me a few moments before her lips split into a wide grin. Turning toward Dominic, she hitches her thumb at me. “I like her.”
“ Thank you ,” he mouths, and I just smile. Clearing his throat, he motions me to come in. “Mom, this is Ang—” Quickly catching himself, he starts again. “Alexandra Romanov. Alexandra, meet my mother, Brenda McCallum.”
Brenda stares at me from her bed. I see where Dominic gets his looks. His mother has the same nose, same full lips, and same thick, dark hair. The only difference is her eyes. They’re a deep, ocean blue, not the piercing pale blue that could stop a heart.
“Alexandra,” she says, looking me up and down. I’ve spent the last three months under the relentless eye of the entire world, yet nothing feels as invasive as Brenda McCallum’s stare. I breathe a sigh of relief when she shifts it to her son. “Alexandra and Dominic. Dominic and Alexandra.”
What the hell is going on? Has she forgotten who we are already?
“Love looks good on you both. Don’t let the damn witches mess it up.”
Now I’m blushing. I feel the heat burning my cheeks. I see Dominic scrub his hand down his face out of the corner of my eye. “Mom, we’re not—”
She cuts him off, her eyes flashing with fear. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
Dominic doesn’t flinch, taking her hand as if this is all perfectly normal. “Mom, it’s me, Dominic, remember?”
“That’s what all the imposters say!”
“Mom, please don’t do this. Not now.”
I can’t take my eyes off her. The way she flipped on a dime, going from normal to incoherent digs into a dark place I refuse to acknowledge.
Brenda’s eyes catch mine, our gazes locking moments before she turns back to Dominic and hisses, “If you’re really my son, then seek the cure. Only the real Dominic knows where it’s hidden.”
“Fine,” he concedes through clenched teeth. Turning his back to her, he watches my reaction as he asks, “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
“Do I want to know?”
He groans. “No.”
“Then yeah, I’ll be fine.”
As soon as the door closes, Brenda’s gaze is back on me. “He acts just like his father sometimes.”
“His father?” Dominic has never mentioned his father, and it never felt like the right time to ask.
Brenda stares at me like I’m an idiot. “The Wizard.”
“Of course.” Regretting my decision to stay behind, I eye a small water pitcher in the corner and make my way toward it. “Are you thirsty? I’d be happy to pour you some—”
“You hear them, don’t you?”
My hand shakes as I lift the pitcher. “Hear what?”
“The voices.”
“Okay, no water then.”
“What about the static? The bright lines that go back and forth and back and forth.” She moves her finger in a “z” formation.
“Brenda—”
“And the scratching,” she continues, her voice becoming shrill. “Those sounds.” Clicking her tongue, she claws the air. “The ones just out of reach where you can’t make it stop.”
She just described everything that’s been invading my head during the day and terrorizing my dreams at night. Sometimes it gets so bad I lose time. An hour here, three hours there. One minute I’m at the studio, the next I’m in my own kitchen. It feels like I’m a rat running a maze with no exit.
My legs feel like two hollow straws, so I sink onto the edge of Brenda’s bed, tears threatening my eyes. “What’s happening to me?”
But she doesn’t answer. She just rocks her head from side to side, her eyes never leaving mine as she crawls onto her knees. “You’ve protected her for so long, but she’s getting stronger.” I want to look away, but I can’t. “You know it; you just can’t see it.”
Every single word feels like a stab to the heart.
She.
The girl in the nightmares. The ones where I can’t wake up because I realize I’m already awake. My eyes are wide open, and she’s still there. I try to wish her away, but I can’t. She’s burrowed into my brain, locking me away with my own demons after giving them sharper claws.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
“Who is she?” I yell. “What are you talking about?”
Just as Brenda starts to answer, the door opens. “Everything okay in here?”
Quickly wiping my face, I blow out a rough breath. “Yeah. Everything okay with you?”
Dominic holds up a soda can in response.
I raise an eyebrow. “The cure?”
“Dr. Pepper. Imposter kryptonite.” He shakes his head. “Don’t ask.” Handing the soda can to his mother, he tosses a suspicious look between us again. “Are you sure everything’s okay? I heard shouting.”
“Just girl talk, son.” Brenda waves a hand while popping the top on the can. “Did you see the witches? ”
“Nope. This soda is curse free.”
She winks. “Good boy.”
“I think that’s enough for today. Alexandra has an early day tomorrow, and you need your rest.” Dominic kisses her forehead. “Don’t cause too much trouble around here.”
We’re almost out the door when she calls out, “Alexandra.” I glance over my shoulder to find her head tilted to one side. “She’s fate.”
I can’t get Brenda out of my mind. If what Dominic said is true, if he can’t come up with fast cash, she’s going back to the place that drove her here. The streets of Hollywood.
We get halfway down the hall when I stop him. “I want to pay for your mom to stay here.”
He stiffens. “No.”
“Let me do this. I have the money, and besides,” I bite my lip while pointing toward the window, “The witches are out there.”
Despite his scowl, a hint of a smile breaks free. “Fine. But when I get BTN in the black again, I’m paying you back every cent.”
“Deal.”
Dominic scratches the back of his head. “I guess we need to go see Everly and get this straight.” He starts to make his way down another hall when I grab his arm. “Something wrong?”
But the truth is in the pit of my stomach. It’s lodged in the back of my throat. It’s locked inside my head with the demons and the sharp claws.
And her.
“No.” I give him a weak smile. “Let’s go.”
Because if Brenda McCallum is right…
Fate’s about to come scratching.