Chapter 13 #2
“Trust me,” Miles went on, going first down the stairs, “dead-person juice has a totally different smell. It’s kinda like if a—” He stopped on the bottom step so abruptly, Gabriel bumped into him.
Aunt Robin stared in surprise from where she was settled on the couch, steaming mug and piece of toast on the coffee table in front of her.
Shit.
Miles had completely forgotten that she was up and about. From the sudden intake of air behind him, so had Charlee.
A loaded beat of silence passed. Miles’s life flashed before his eyes. “Uh, good morning,” he choked out.
Sneaking a boy out of the house first thing in the morning wasn’t a great look, but if she didn’t recognize Gabriel, this was potentially still salvageable.
“Is it?” Aunt Robin asked lightly, and Miles knew they were screwed. “A Hawthorne in our home would typically imply the opposite.”
Miles winced. “This isn’t what it looks like,” he insisted— then realized it was in fact, exactly what it looked like.
Behind him, the stair creaked as Gabriel shifted forward to press against his back. Miles didn’t know if he’d lost his balance or he was trying to be reassuring, but he appreciated it either way.
“Would you like to explain, or should I start guessing?” His aunt’s airy tone hadn’t changed. He didn’t quite know what to make of it.
Resigned, he came down the rest of the stairs, Gabriel and Charlee following. Gabriel joined him by the coffee table, but Charlee kept going, passing through the living room and vanishing into the kitchen without so much as a look at her mom.
Probably a good call.
Gabriel cleared his throat and stepped forward to offer his hand. “I’m Gabriel Hawthorne. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You don’t have to lie on my behalf.” Aunt Robin’s bluntness was softened by a tinge of amusement, but she took his hand. “I’m Robin Stephens, Miles’s aunt.” She didn’t mention Charlee.
“Gabriel needed a place to stay last night,” Miles explained.
They’d been caught in the act. All he could do was be honest and hope for mercy.
“My mom—well, I’m sure you heard, but she lost it when she found out we were hanging out, so I figured it would be best if she…
didn’t know he was here.” Miles rubbed the back of his neck.
His aunt nodded sagely. “Felicity is a raw spot for her, a wound that never got to heal. She probably doesn’t appreciate you poking it.”
Miles was tempted to question her further, but they were already treading dangerous waters.
Gabriel had no such reservations. “Do you know what happened between them?”
“I do. But it’s not my story to tell.”
What little Miles knew—the photo of his dad with Felicity when they were younger, and what his mom had said when she’d confronted him about Gabriel—didn’t reveal much, so he hadn’t bothered to clue Gabriel in.
Mostly because he was scared they’d have to discuss the possibility their parents had dated as teens. Ew.
“Whatever happened between them, she can’t get past her issues enough to listen to me.”
Aunt Robin’s expression shifted into sympathy. “Your mom might not be able to see past her own bias now, but give her time. In the meantime, I’ll hear you out.”
Miles exchanged an uncertain look with Gabriel.
If anyone was going to understand their fight against the future, it would be her.
Being honest was the only chance they had of convincing her to keep Gabriel’s presence a secret.
The only way to make her understand why Miles couldn’t walk away, no matter what his mom thought.
“We’re trying to break a curse on Gabriel’s family. And the reason we met and decided to work together…” Miles hesitated, but Gabriel tilted his head in encouragement. “We’re trying to stop a death premonition.”
Aunt Robin recoiled against the cushions as if he’d physically struck her. “You can’t. I told you before—”
“I know. But we have to try.”
She pressed a trembling hand to her breast, clutching the ring hanging from her neck. “I suppose it’s not in your nature to give up without trying. But how did you see it? You’re not a seer.”
“Gabriel is,” Miles shared, because it was easier than opening that whole can of worms. He didn’t even fully understand himself how Jocelyn was forcing the visions on him.
She turned sorrowful eyes on Gabriel. “I’m so sorry. A death premonition is a terrible burden to bear. Our gift… I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”
“If I can save a life,” Gabriel responded, “it will be worth it.”
Her gaze turned pitying, like she already knew the outcome, how futile their quest was. “Who?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Miles answered swiftly. That was the last thing they needed to get into. “What matters is that we don’t have time for my mom to get on board. Please, don’t tell her Gabriel was here. Or wait until after we finish this. Lives could literally be at stake.”
The only reason he was getting away with sneaking out at night was because Sarah had no idea he was crazy enough to do it.
His aunt considered for a long second. “I won’t tell her.” Relief punched the air out of Miles’s lungs. “But promise you’ll come to me if you need help. If not with the premonition, then with the curse. That kind of magic can be tricky.”
“We don’t know much about it, except that it’s tied to the Hawthornes’ gifts. We still need to find the right spell in the grimoire.”
“Grimoire?” Her gaze sharpened. “What grimoire?”
Mentioning the sentient book of evil probably hadn’t been the best move when he was trying to keep her worry to a minimum.
“It belonged to my ancestor,” Gabriel chimed in. “That’s all we know about it.”
“Those books are incredibly dangerous. You two haven’t used it, have you?”
Miles avoided Gabriel’s gaze. “No, of course not. We’re only looking through it to find the curse, that’s all.”
His aunt bit her lip. “I still don’t like it. Even reading one… You shouldn’t be interacting with it at all, especially not alone. Let me look through it and find what you need, or at the very least, supervise.”
“We don’t have it with us.” Technically not a lie; it was in his backpack upstairs. “We have to leave it at Gabriel’s house so his mom doesn’t notice it’s missing. But we’re being careful, I promise.”
Gabriel shot him a perplexed look. Miles loved his aunt, appreciated that she cared enough to offer this, but she’d only just managed to pull herself out of her grief to try and get her life back to normal. He’d fight tooth and nail before he let that wretched grimoire anywhere near her.
Robin frowned. “I’m sure you are, but… you don’t let a child play with a gun, then tell yourself you’re not to blame when they shoot themself.”
Cheerful.
“Nothing’s going to happen to us,” he reassured her. “I promise. And the second we get what we need from the grimoire, we’re ditching it.”
She clearly wasn’t happy. “I’m trusting you to be smart about this, and to come to me if anything happens. Okay?”
“Okay. Thank you, Aunt Robin.”
He gave her a hug, taking in the scent of incense from her hair as she returned the gentle squeeze. It was comforting to know someone else had their back.
“We seriously need to get going,” Charlee called from the kitchen, annoyance honing the edge of her words. The timing was too perfect for her not to have been eavesdropping.
“She’s right, Gabriel needs to get home before school.” Miles ushered him towards the kitchen.
But Gabriel hesitated, giving Robin a solemn look. “I have no intention of allowing Miles to get hurt,” he told her, unknowingly mirroring Miles’s words to Edmund after they’d gotten back from the old Hawthorne house. “By the grimoire, or anything else. You don’t need to worry about him.”
Warmth tingled at the tips of Miles’s fingers.
She studied him over her mug. “It was nice to meet you, Gabriel. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Perhaps a Warren and a Hawthorne working together isn’t as impossible as I’d thought.”