31. Broken Things
ELOISE
My phone rings as I pull into the drive that leads to Harcourt Manor, the sight of the place causing my heart to swell. It’s mine and will stay that way. Finally, I’ve awakened from the nightmare I thought would never end. It’s over.
I tap the screen to answer on speaker.
“The advocate just delivered the paperwork,” Maeve says. “Congratulations, El. You did it. The house is yours. I’m filing this first thing in the morning, and I’ve already faxed a copy to Tony’s lawyers.”
“Thank you. Oh God, thank you. I’m so happy it’s over.”
“Not completely. Not until our court date next Friday, but I doubt he’ll give us any trouble, considering what you know. I’m curious, though, why you didn’t take it to the authorities. You could have had him thrown in jail, had the prenup thrown out, and maybe got a better deal for yourself.”
I sigh and hit the button to open the garage. “I just want it to be over. All of this has been such a distraction. I want to spend uninterrupted time with Grams without having to worry about Tony pulling the rug out from under us. I feel like I can finally breathe tonight.”
“Understood. Honestly, I have to hand it to you. The advocate said you stood up to Tony with, and I quote, ‘strength he’s rarely seen in all his five hundred years.’”
“Damien said that? Really?”
“Yes, he did. Actually, he seemed a little obsessed with you. Be careful, El. Keep the candle nearby just in case he tries something.”
“Like what?” I ask playfully.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about. Remember, he’s a monster. He’s not a potential love interest. Got it?”
I’ve had about enough of the Damien bashing. “You know what? Damien isn’t a monster. Tony’s a monster. Believe me, I know. I still have the scars to remind me of the difference. Damien may be a creature, but he’s a good person.”
“But Eloise, you have to understand?—”
“Goodbye, Maeve,” I sing-song, then hang up the phone. As I enter the house, I silence the ringer so it won’t wake Grams and toe off my shoes. I pad on stocking feet to the back of the house and check on her. She’s fallen asleep propped up on pillows, facing the window to watch for her beloved Howard. For a few minutes, I follow her chest as it rises and falls in peaceful slumber, noticing that the drink and snack I’ve placed on the bedside table are still there, untouched. When was the last time she ate more than a few bites?
I close my eyes and whisper a prayer to anyone who is listening, then shuffle back to the parlor and use one of the long matches to light the fire. I’m still squatting, watching the kindling between the logs ignite, when a deliciously dark, spicy scent wafts past me and a pair of long, muscular arms wrap around my shoulders.
“Damien,” I whisper, closing my eyes and taking a deep, cleansing breath. “We did it. Maeve just called. The house is as good as mine.”
His fingers cup my jaw and turn my face to look at him. “You did it. I was wrong about you.”
“Wrong, how?”
“All this time, I thought you were a little bird. But you’re not. You’re a dragon, just like your tattoo.”
I laugh softly. “What about my fluttering heart?”
He shoots me a slow, crooked grin. “The sound you make before you breathe fire.”
I laugh, even as my ears grow hot under his close scrutiny. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
He tilts his head and shakes it once. “Yes, you could have. I came to be your advocate, little dragon, but I’m afraid I haven’t served you well. I wanted to kill for you, but you solved the problem on your own, in your own way.”
“No,” I insist. “You helped me, but more importantly, you healed me. Tony had stripped me down to a shell of who I once was. He took me apart and tried to remake me into the robot he wanted, then left me in scraps when I didn’t operate that way. I’d never have succeeded if I was still in pieces. Somehow, you put me back together. Do you know you did that for me?” I slide my hands up his chest. Our eyes catch and hold.
“Careful, you’ll make me believe I’m no monster at all.” He nuzzles my neck, pulling me closer, but I push him away.
“You did exactly what I asked you to do, and now it’s done. And I promised you I’d do something in return.” I cross the parlor to get the candle out of my purse and bring it back to the hearth, where I use one of the matches to light the wick. “Now we just let it burn, and when it burns out, you’ll be free.”
Damien looks between me and the candle, his expression wistful. His voice is all gravel when he says, “I admit, I was skeptical.”
“About what?”
“That you’d truly attempt to free me. I thought you might forget your promise once you had what you wanted.”
I rest a hand on his cheek. There are things I want, no need, to say to him. “What happened between us meant something to me.” I watch him flinch as if I’ve surprised him but I carry on. “I don’t expect anything from you. Please don’t think that. I know as soon as the candle burns down, you’ll be gone, and I’ll never see you again. But while you’re still here, I want to say thank you. Knowing you has helped me find myself again. For all the times you called me your little bird, you never infantilized me like Tony did. You challenged me to become stronger. You made me feel wanted and valuable. You made me understand I was broken but not ruined. So, yeah, all of this has meant something to me, and I’ll miss you.” My voice catches. I smile against the onslaught of tears I’m fighting back. “I hope wherever you go next that you’re happy, and I hope by freeing you, I contributed to that happiness.”
He closes his eyes. “You are the kindest soul, Eloise.” My name on his lips does extraordinary things to my insides, but the agony I see in his eyes is sobering.
“Thank you,” I say. “But why do you look like you’re in pain?”
Shadows rise around him, and he takes me by the shoulders. “Because the candle will never burn out, no matter how long we wait, no matter your intention to free me.”
“What are you talking about?” I dart a glance at the candle. “It’s barely a stub. It shouldn’t take long now.”
“That candle has been the same size for a half century. The Gowdie curse ends when the candle does, and their magic keeps it from ever ending.”
Flabbergasted, I take measure of the candle again. I’ve assumed it’s gotten shorter every time I’ve burned it, but it isn’t noticeably different. “It’s enchanted to never burn out?”
“The curse is designed to be forever.”
Hot tears pool in my eyes. “But that’s not fair. So… so… you’re their slave for all eternity?”
He grabs my hand and places it over his heart. “Eloise, the fact that you tried to free me, that you intended to, even if the task is impossible, means everything to me. What happened between us meant something to me too.”
I shake my head vigorously. “This isn’t okay.” My monster, my advocate, my Damien... I won’t let them do this to him. “That isn’t our agreement. I’m supposed to get free of Tony, and you’re supposed to get free of the candle.”
“I wish it were possible.”
A dark restlessness swirls inside me. As much as I love Maeve, I can’t muster anything but rage toward her family. My skin burns with it. Bile rises in my throat.
“Eloise...” Damien’s eyes rove over me.
I seethe at the candle, snatching it off the mantel. Hot wax drips down the back of my hand. “Shit! Fuck!” I toss the entire thing into the fire. The moment it hits the flames, a shower of sparks explodes from the logs. Suddenly, I’m across the room, protected in a cocoon of solid darkness. Damien forms from the shadows with his arms around me.
“Are you hurt?” He inspects my hand, rolling the wax from my skin.
“It’s fine,” I say. Truly it is. “I yelled because I expected it to burn, but it didn’t.”
He examines my skin. “Not even pink.”
Together we walk back toward the fire. I’m relieved the shower of sparks didn’t burn the carpet. Thank God, there doesn’t appear to be any damage. I search the flames for any remnant of the candle. With the poker from the rack, I move the logs around. Nothing remains. Not even a pool of wax.
“It’s gone.”
Beside me, Damien goes perfectly still, a preternatural stillness as if he’s turned to stone. His chin jerks downward and his eyes rove to the space over his heart. Slowly, he unbuttons his shirt and moves the fabric aside. His brows knit and he looks between his chest and me in utter confusion.
The skull and crossbones tattoo that marked his servitude to the Gowdies has vanished.
“Holy shit,” I whisper. Tentatively, I close the space between us and feather my touch over his smooth, unmarked skin. “It worked. You’re free.”
I’ve never seen Damien look like this. His expression turns frantic, and he grips my shoulders, giving me a light shake. “How? How did you do it? It shouldn’t have been possible.”
“Ow. You’re hurting me!”
He releases me like I’ve burned him. “I’m sorry. I—” Between us, his hands shake violently, and I take them in my own. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“But how. How is this possible?”
“You saw how I did it. The fire must have broken the spell. You’re free.” I smile up at him, ecstatic that both of us have managed what we wanted. But my smile fades when I realize what this means. He’ll go now, maybe try to find his way home. He won’t waste his time on me, on a human. I take a step back, dragging my touch from him. “Thank you, Damien.”
His hands stop shaking, and he composes himself. “Do you want me to go, little dragon?”
I press a hand to the ache in my chest. “No. I want you to stay with me. I want to… be with you.” My cheeks heat from the admission. “But even more, I want you to do what you want to do. I think after centuries of being bound to someone else’s will, you deserve it.”
His lids sink to half-mast. “I want to be with you, too, but...”
I can see he’s holding something back. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”
“You should see what I truly am, Eloise.” His voice is all leather and grit. “Before you invite me to stay, you need to understand the monster you’re inviting into your bed.”