Chapter 18
The curses came in a stream. I berated myself for falling for his comfort, only to be fooled into letting him make his collection unimpeded.
The sliding door at the back entrance was locked from the inside.
Racing to the backyard gate, I found my black wolf, his massive frame blocking the only way to the front of the house.
“I need you to move. I can’t right now. Please, I can’t,” I rushed out.
Understanding me, he quickly moved aside, leaving me to wonder how he had managed to unlock the gate.
Running to the front door, I jabbed in the code then rushed to the closet and retrieved the one weapon I hoped I’d never need.
My katana. I was better with a knife, but I could use it to ward him off.
Or at the very least, slow him down. He appreciated pain.
Would he have the same adoration for it while I beheaded him?
Consequences be damned. I’d fight them all if it gave me more time to save Amelia.
My vision sharpened. Adrenaline made the weapon feel featherlight.
And the thirst for unfettered violence pulsed through me like a drug.
Angry at his betrayal. Frustrated by the situation.
And disappointed in my naivete for ever trusting him.
I charged into the room and stopped short.
Amelia was sitting up, sipping from water I’d placed on the nightstand in anticipation of her waking up. Taking slow sips, her eyes widened when they moved from Cirrian to me. My pounding heart eased and my sharp uneven breaths slowed.
I had to be a sight to behold if the turbulent, wild, and vengeful emotions I couldn’t rein in were anything to go by. Sucking in a long breath, I lowered the sword.
He put a lot of effort into the smile he gave me. “When it comes to her, you seem unable to see the reality in front of you.”
“It’s called hope.”
“Even in the absence of empirical evidence?”
“There was no hard evidence.”
He shook his head. And started out of the room, leaving Amelia’s expression full of curiosity and confusion. I raised my finger to her, indicating a need for a minute, and placed the sword on the dresser. I didn’t need to remind him of the violence I was prepared to deliver.
I expected his disappearing act before I could reach him. He was quick but was waiting for me at the stair landing.
“Thank you so much.”
He shrugged with a heaviness in his expression.
“You weren’t supposed to do that, were you?”
He shook his head. “Where you are concerned, I tend to break the rules more than usual.” His tone suggested it was something he needed to evaluate alone.
I moved toward him, and he raised his hand to stop me. “Amelia is waiting, and she’ll want an explanation.”
“I’m prohibited from that,” I pointed out. Any explanation I offered would be riddled with lies, and I didn’t want to do that to her.
“More rules that you wish me to break?” he inquired softly, his expression grim.
I shook my head. “No. I’ll think of something. Hopefully she’ll understand.”
Him eliminating the distance between us with his preternatural speed no longer surprised me. He laced his fingers with mine in a manner that would have been intimate if it weren’t for his chilly attitude. His set jaw made the appealing angles of his face appear harsher.
“Agree,” he insisted.
“What am I agreeing to?”
“The changes I will make to the terms of our oath. I need you to agree to them.”
Used to the subtle tones of mockery and amusement in his demeanor, this cold, dispassionate version made me skeptical. Walls of mistrust were slowly erecting.
“I’d like to know what I’m agreeing to,” I said.
He closed his eyes and exhaled a slow breath. When he opened them, they were stone. “I’m amending your oath of secrecy to include Amelia. I do believe she will need an explanation. There is more to her that needs exploring. She could be vital to you unlocking your magic.”
Of course there’s more to her. She’s the spawn of Vina, the woman who managed to evade you all and beat you at your own game. A woman who was undoubtedly on their most wanted list.
I nodded. “Of course.” I could have hugged him.
But even the light thrum of his thumb running along the side of my hand didn’t feel inviting.
His lips moved slowly, not even giving me the courtesy of hearing the invocation.
It was unsettling how easily he could modify the terms of the oath.
But I had to trust him. It felt like warm honey was being poured over my arm as it suffused the forearm to my bicep.
The marking made an appearance from the edge of my shirt.
Pulling it up, I saw it had changed some and was more stylized and intricate, as if the rewording was hidden in the design.
“Thank you,” I said to his back as he moved past me.
“No thanks needed. You are the tool I need and would not have been any use to me if she’d died. I didn’t do it for you; I did it for me.”
“Who are you trying to convince, me or you?”
“I’ve broken so many of our rules for you, I’m not the one who will need convincing.” And with that he was gone.
Remembering Larkin’s worry and his anger at Cirrian for the rules he’d broken and magic uncollected, I wondered how would he react to Cirrian undoing a curse that prevented a collection? They weren’t supposed to intervene in death, or kill, and he’d done both in a span of two days.
Amelia was still sipping water when I returned to the room. She placed it on the nightstand, her head slightly canted and eyes narrowed to slits. “So,” she drawled, “anything new I should know about?” Her voice, light and melodic, didn’t match the situation. Which meant she was really worried.
“Well,” I let my voice match hers, “there are some events.”
Sitting on the end of her bed, I began my account whimsically to take the bite out of it all.
By the end, my voice and mood were low and morose.
Amelia’s lips lifted in an imitation of a smile that faltered and fell away.
There were lulls in the story while I watched horror spread over her face.
Running her hand over her face, she kept drawing the skin down.
Spiraling. I stopped and handed her the water.
After taking another small sip, she made a face and inhaled.
“I need to brush my teeth and shower. And food. I need lots of it,” she asserted. When she started to get out of bed, I rushed to help.
“I was only out for two days. I’m well rested and fine. You’re the one who seems like you could use a nap.”
“I’m good.”
She turned her assessing eyes on me and frowned. “Liar.”
Sleep deprived and still in disbelief that Amelia was alive, I was faced with a new set of problems. The House of Hollows had witnessed the failure of the spell. How was I going to explain Amelia’s recovery?
Amelia slowly made her way to the dresser, pulling out clothes and toiletries she kept at her “second home” and headed to the bathroom, and I made my way downstairs for food.
Lime-colored loose-fitting pants, an oversized shirt, and fluffy socks with animals on them was Amelia’s way of adding color and life to a dreary situation.
Her towel-dried hair was a mass of coils, and her appearance was missing its usual lively glow.
She looked at the bowl of stew of bone broth, celery, shredded chicken, carrots, and green onions I’d made her. Her brow cocked.
“You can’t be serious! I said food.”
“You’ve been asleep for two days, I don’t want you to get sick,” I explained.
She patted her stomach. “Steel trap. I won’t get sick.
” Grabbing my phone off the table, she handed it to me.
“I want tacos, jerk chicken with rice and beans. Don’t forget the plantains.
Pizza. Half pepperoni”—she made a face, giving me a derisive look before adding my favorite—“the other half cheese.”
“There’s no way you’re going to eat all of that.”
“Order. And get some mac and cheese,” she demanded with a grin. “We have a long night ahead of us.”
While I ordered, she called her father. I couldn’t make out their conversation, but I heard a perk in his voice.
There were so many missed calls from him.
I wasn’t convinced he believed her when she said she’d been in the lab, referring to other times she’d been too engrossed in creating a new spell and honing her magic.
“It’s not completely a lie,” she said once the call ended. “We’ve learned a lot from this.”
The understatement of the year. While we waited for the exorbitant amount of food to be delivered, Amelia finished her stew, retreated to my kitchen, and returned with bread, cheese, a bottle of wine, and glasses that she managed to carry with the use of her hands, arms, and chin to keep everything stable.
Plopping on the sofa, she started setting everything out.
I grabbed the wine and the glasses, put them aside, and handed her another glass of water.
“Girl, we need to be sober.”
“No, we need to be a little less sober. Do you know what we’re dealing with!”
“I have to unlock my magic, find the person who cursed you, and plan an intervention for my best friend.”
Making a face, she grabbed the wine and opened it, pouring us both a glass.
“Cirrian,” she said. “What do you think of him? Do you trust him?”
Her question was simple, but her intense expression was asking so much more.
“Short answer? I don’t know,” I admitted.
“He’s the epitome of deception. He navigates this world as an unseen observer.
When he makes himself known, it’s in the guise of deception.
” I reminded her of the many faces of Cirrian he’d shown me, which sparked the image of my wolf.
Quickly placing the glass on the table, I ran to the back of the house.
I scanned the area, even moved to the front of the house, feeling eyes on me. “He was here earlier,” I told her when I was back in the living room. “I have no idea how he got in the gate.”
“Dogs can open some locks,” Amelia pointed out.
“I don’t think you want to openly compare a wolf to a dog.” I brought my finger to my lips, urging her to lower her voice.
“You’re sure it’s not Cirrian?”
“Can’t be. He showed up when Cirrian was here.”
“He’ll probably come back as long as you don’t call him one of those ridiculous names.” She frowned. “Onyx.” She shook her head. “Coal?” Her eyes rolled. “Wolfie? He should have bitten you. You don’t look basic,” she teased. “Why not Midnight or Raven?”
I frowned. “I don’t think he’d like being called an inferior animal. He’s majestic. A beautiful animal,” I admitted, although my fondness for him may have made me biased.
“A raven isn’t an inferior animal. They can talk and hold a grudge like a gangsta. They’re beautiful, too, and can fly. A group of them are called an unkindness,” Amelia touted. “In comparison, wolves. Pack? Meh. Fur, growling, and pack dynamics, that’s all they got.”
Her love of ravens was the source of teasing on numerous occasions, but there was no need for wolves to catch a stray with her insults. She seemed more impressed by their ability to hold generational beef than the speaking or their gothic persona of unkindness.
“I missed you so much.” The teasing and earnestness in my voice only confirmed how undeniably accurate Cirrian was.
Amelia’s death would have ruined me and prevented me being in the right headspace to even consider doing what was necessary to unlock my magic.
It had been years since my parents’ death and there was still an empty space in my heart for them.
I felt their absence daily. Amelia and Walden were a salve for my heartache, but the hollowness remained.
I hugged Amelia. She returned it, making soft circles on my back, and I relaxed in the comfort.