Chapter Twenty-One Trey
Twenty Minutes Earlier
On the Side of the Road
Trying to Get Some Answers
I grabbed Wilde’s hand before he could panic-teleport away. At least then he might bring me with him. Something shifted in his eyes and his form flickered before resolidifying. He rolled to the side and puked again.
My queasiness really had been motion sickness.
Being whipped around from the food stalls to the shopping center entrance to the carriage had unsettled my stomach.
Everything had happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to forget.
I clearly remembered Maximus’ argument the first and second time, word for word.
Wilde’s illness seemed different. A coughing fit wracked his whole body, and his arms trembled as he held himself up. Snot, vomit, and tears stained his face. No blood though, a small mercy.
Once he stopped puking, I wrapped my arms around him and gathered him close to my chest, pressing his face into my shoulder. He stiffened but didn’t have the energy to fight me. “Tell me what you need,” I murmured. Whatever it was, I’d give it to him if it stopped him from hollowing himself out.
He was quiet for so long that I thought he’d fallen asleep. Finally, in a whisper I had to strain to hear it, “I need to stop but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Everything’s fucked up and I have to fix it.”
I can fix it, he’d promised, a lifetime ago.
I didn’t remember everything. Fuck, I didn’t even remember most of it. I didn’t know what he had to fix, why he’d made that promise, or how we even knew each other.
Will you love me, if things are different?
The answer I’d never given him formed easily on my lips: I think I love you now. But that was a different Treasure and a different Wilde. I didn’t know who this Wilde was. Every time I tried to find out, he ran away from me.
The stranger who had crashed into my dad.
The attendant who had interrupted a wedding announcement.
The woman Fitz had proclaimed his love to, who loved another man.
The mage who had called my name as he’d kissed me so sweetly, dreaming of another version of us.
Bits and pieces came back to me, but never the whole, and never enough about him. “Who are you?” I whispered into his hair.
There was no answer.
This time he really had fallen asleep.
Six Hours Later
A Guest Suite
Waiting to Pounce
The door slammed open and banged against the wall. Good thing I wasn’t hiding on the other side. Delilah skipped inside and called out, “Wilde! I think I solved your pro—agh!” Her excitement turned into a yelp as I tackled her, wrapping my arms around her midsection and dragging her to the ground.
Being the one to pounce instead of being pounced on was so satisfying, I understood why she always attacked me in greeting.
She squirmed and bucked under me, trying to throw me off. Her fluffy hair got in her eyes and mouth, and she spit it out in an undignified sputter. When she finally recognized who had tackled her, she relaxed. “Ha ha, very funny, Trey. Now get off.”
“Nope. You’re staying where I can keep an eye on you until I get some answers.”
“I’m not Wilde,” she complained. “I can’t teleport away from you!”
“No, but you could punch me in the stomach and make a run for it.”
She pursed her lips, upset that I had read her thoughts. Turning her head to the side, she said, “Fine, have your way with me.”
“Ew, we are cousins.” It almost worked. I almost released her from shock and revulsion. Instead, I tightened my hold, thwarting her plan to disgust me into letting go.
“Everything alright in there?” Father called. The door to the suite was open, but we were far enough away that no one could see us.
“Fine!” we shouted at the same time.
“We’re going into town for dinner,” Dad called cheerfully. “Try not to kill each other while we’re gone.”
I waited until their door closed, then I released Delilah. We ran for the suite door at the same time, but I reached it first, slamming it shut. I planted myself in front of it and crossed my arms, daring her to try to muscle me out of her way.
She huffed and planted her hands on her hips. “What is this about, Trey?”
“Gee, maybe it has something to do with time repeating?”
Her eyes widened and she looked frantically around the room. “Where’s Wilde? Did he run away again?”
“No, and he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” Unless he could teleport out of handcuffs. Since they were Dad’s creation, I suspected they could contain a mage. Especially one who had exhausted himself to the point of illness.
Delilah sighed, a mix of relief and defeat. She plopped onto the couch and asked, “How much do you know?”
“That I’ve already lived through this stupid meeting three times, and he’s at the center of it.”
“Four,” she said, her expression serious for once. “We’ve been through this meeting four times. The first time was just different than the rest.”
My brow furrowed as I considered her claim. When I’d woken up in my bedroom that first time, I wasn’t confused about not being in Misfortune. I was confused because I wasn’t … somewhere else.
The first time was harder to hold onto than the rest. Like it’d been erased and written over too many times. I remembered Wilde’s promise, the words I’d never said, but when I tried to remember where we had been, or what events led us there, it was a solid wall of fog.
“Who is he?” I demanded. “How did you really meet?”
Delilah pursed her lips. “He’s a mage, that part is true.”
I rolled my eyes. “The teleporting kind of tipped me off.”
“Well, he’s been trying to fix what he broke, but every time something goes wrong, he thinks he needs to start from scratch. Like if it isn’t perfect, it isn’t worth it.”
I remembered Delilah fighting with him before, calling him a coward. “He can reset time,” I said slowly. I’d guessed as much, I just hadn’t been sure he was doing it on purpose.
“Yes, and if he finds out I told you, he will reset it again, right back to the beginning.”
I did not want to wake up in my gods damned bedroom again.
It’d been perfectly fine for the past twelve years of my life, but now it represented failure.
“Is he even strong enough to reset time again? He’s wearing himself too thin.
Forget ‘burning the candle from both ends’, he’s tossed the fucking candle straight into the fire. ”
If Delilah still had her ears and tail, everything would have drooped in despair. “I don’t think he cares.”
“What could be so important?”
Another memory surfaced, Wilde’s own voice near my ear. Everything.
I slumped onto the couch next to Delilah and buried my face in my hands. How was I supposed to get to know him if he exhausted himself to death? “We have to stop him. He needs to learn to let things take their course.”
“I’m not sure we can.”
Fuck that. I would not allow that defeatist attitude. I jumped back to my feet.
Delilah had been reaching a comforting hand toward my shoulder. My sudden departure sent her sprawling face-down into the couch.
I strode toward Wilde’s room and slammed the door open.
He shifted on the bed, mumbling sleepily, but even the noise didn’t wake him.
One arm hung above his head, connected to the headboard by a pair of metal cuffs.
The cuffs were completely seamless with no keyholes, but they each had a glyph carved into the side.
I pressed my index finger against the symbol on the cuff wrapped around the headboard and whispered the command word.
It sprung open and I caught it before it fell, wrapping it around my own wrist. It snapped closed, creating a seamless band.
“Try teleporting away from me now, motherfucker.”
A giggle came from behind me. Delilah stood in the doorway, watching the whole scene. Her mirth faded as she looked at Wilde’s slack, pale face. As we both realized that even being jostled and sworn at hadn’t woken him.
“I hope this works,” she whispered.
“Me too.” At least if he tried to run away again, we were bound together. For better or worse.
I lay down on the bed, getting comfortable since I would be there a while.
The bed was big enough for two people, but the handcuffs required a certain closeness.
As soon as I laid my head on the pillow, Wilde snugged against me, wrapping his free arm around my waist. A wandering hand slipped under my jacket.
Poor circulation made him cold, and he’d naturally sought out the heat source that had plopped into his bed.
I grabbed the blanket and pulled it tight over him, tucking him in to keep him warm. Forcing my eyes closed, I tried to count sheep rather than the places where our bodies touched.
Wilde shifted again, slipping his leg between mine, his knee nudging a delicate part of me. Heat flooded my stomach and every muscle tensed. My eyes flew open, and I stared determinedly at the dark ceiling. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t—
A cold hand slid along my ribs until delicate fingertips brushed against a nipple.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” I demanded.
No response from him, no change in his body to indicate he was awake and aware of his actions. His chest rose and fell at a steady pace and a little bit of drool stained my shirt.
At least one of us would get some sleep, because every inch of me was wide awake and fully aware of every inch of him.
This is gonna be a long fucking night.