Chapter 18
Rory sat on her bed, clutching a picture of Cora to her chest. The excitement of buying a dress for tonight and getting her memories back had occupied her every thought and temporarily distracted her from what today was.
But when she brought her shopping bags to her room, Dume messaged her, and her happiness shattered on the floor. Today was the eleventh anniversary of Cora’s death, a stark reminder of why Rory went to prison to begin with.
She paused. That meant her twenty-sixth birthday was during her incarceration.
Did she celebrate? Probably not. She’d hated birthdays since Cora died and tried to forget the day when at all possible.
It wasn’t the same without her twin. Her friends and family knew not to bring it up, and after years of avoidance, it sometimes slipped her mind until days or weeks later.
Add in a life-changing event like going to prison, and she could almost guarantee it was the last thing she thought about while in Vincula.
Good.
She knew seeking vengeance for her twin sister’s murder would only bring more heartbreak to her friends and family, but knowing Bane had Cora’s soul trapped somewhere made her decision excruciating. Assuming he still had it.
The sound of the car starting was Sam’s way of letting her know it was time to go, and she crept down the stairs quietly to keep from waking her father.
This day was hard on their entire family.
Before getting ready, she’d left him a note and slid it under his door, telling him where she went and how much she loved him.
When they arrived at Dume’s apartment building, he stood outside and waved them down.
Rolling down her window, she leaned her elbow on the door. “Ready to go?”
He nodded with a somber smile. “I’ve never been more ready for a drink in my life.”
Every year they bought a shit ton of liquor and sat in the treehouse, reminiscing about old times when Cora was still alive. It was the one time a year Dume drank. At least, it used to be until Rory drove him to drink more.
Once at the park, they hopped out of the car and wove through the woods until they reached the massive tree that housed their childhood.
Sam surveyed the old structure. “This is impressive.”
Dume and Rory exchanged smiles. It was one of their favorite places in Erdikoa, and when they came here, even on this day, it lifted their spirits.
They hurried up the ladder, and seconds later, Sam’s head popped through the floor. “May I join you?”
“This place is big enough for even you,” Dume joked.
Sam wedged his colossal body through, and Rory held in a laugh as his broad shoulders got stuck. “Do you need help?”
He glared at her and Dume as they lost control and burst out laughing. With a final grunt, he freed his shoulders and shimmied inside.
“How will you get out?” Rory asked, imagining his feet dangling in the air.
“I will shift. Had I known the door was made for infants, I would have shifted to come up,” he replied, rendering Dume speechless.
Dume eyed him warily. “Shift?”
Sam brushed splinters of wood from his shoulders. “I can shift into any animal.”
Dume shrugged and unloaded whiskey and cola soda from his backpack cooler like it was everyday news.
Rory began mixing their drinks as Dume dropped ice into plastic cups. “Are you drinking, Sam?”
“Someone must drive you two home.” He scanned the treehouse. “Did you build this?”
After taking a drink, she smacked her lips with a loud pop. “No. We found it when we were kids. It was in terrible shape, but we used a restoration potion lacquer and elbow grease to restore it.”
“We always wondered who built it,” Dume chimed in. “Cora used to say it was the Seraphim themselves.”
“She read too many adventure books,” Rory said with a chuckle. “She saw the world through fresh eyes.”
“Remember when she asked your mom to put her in sword fighting lessons ‘just in case’ the realm was attacked by creatures from other realms?” Dume asked, throwing his head back with a booming laugh.
“And when Mom said no, she tried to build her own sword out of our shower curtain rod,” Rory recalled, and they both roared with laughter.
“I would have taught her,” Sam said with a small smile. “I wish I could have met her.”
The tender words touched Rory. They were unlike him, and her heart lurched for the man sitting across from her. “If she met the infamous Samyaza, she would have fainted.”
Dume spewed his drink all over the floor. “Samyaza?” he choked out.
Rory bit her lip, and Sam gave her an ‘I’m going to kill you’ look.
“Sorry,” she mouthed.
Dume gulped, looking starstruck. “You’re the Samyaza?”
“No,” Sam said as Rory said, “Yes.” He shot her another look, and she winced.
“No fucking way,” Dume breathed.
“Yes,” Sam grumbled. “You cannot tell anyone.” The look he gave Dume made the Aatxe scoot closer to Rory.
She laughed for the thousandth time that night. “Don’t be afraid of him. He’s secretly nice.”
“How would you know?” Dume challenged. “You’ve only known him for a week.”
Sam didn’t react to her teasing and instead asked, “How do you know I am Samyaza?”
She opened her mouth to answer but came up short.
Did Lauren tell her? No, she would remember that conversation. Shocked, she looked at the two men. “I don’t know. I just do.”
Sam cleared his throat and turned away from her while Dume assessed her carefully, but before he could ask questions, another memory surfaced.
The dream she had of the treehouse. Caius said he and his sisters had this place built. She shot to her feet and faced Sam.
“Caius and his sisters built this place.”
Sam scratched his jaw as he regarded her without so much as a peep.
“Who is Caius?” Dume asked, rising to his feet.
Rory began searching for anything that might suggest the information was true. “Did we keep anything that was already here when we found the place?”
The men watched her frantically overturn the entire place. “No. It was unsalvageable. We brought in the pillow seats, knick-knacks, and Cora’s books.”
Rory heard nothing else he said as she made a beeline for the bookshelf. Caius felt for something under the shelves, but he never said what he was looking for. Dropping to her knees, she ran her hand under the top shelf as he had done. Which shelf was it?
When she ran her hand on the underside of the bottom shelf, her fingers grazed over something carved into the wood. She pulled out the books, threw them on the ground, and tugged at the wood.
“Help me,” she pleaded through gritted teeth as she yanked hard enough to hurt her fingers.
Dume pulled her back and pinned her arms to her sides. “How drunk are you?”
She wiggled free and shoved him lightly to make him move. “I only had one drink. I need to see the bottom of this shelf.”
Sam quietly watched the exchange. She could use his strength, but it was apparent he wouldn’t help. “I need something to break the shelf.”
Dume stepped between her and the small piece of furniture. “Calm down, Rory. Why are you destroying Cora’s bookshelf?”
Realizing she wanted to destroy Cora’s favorite thing in their hideout gave her pause. “I’ll buy potions to fix it,” she promised. “But I need to see the bottom of the last shelf.”
Dume’s eyes met Sam’s before he sighed and kneeled beside her. “Watch out. I don’t want any wood hitting you.”
She scooted back and watched as he grabbed the entire shelf and pulled with every bit of his strength. It released with a loud crack, and Dume fell back on his butt, holding the shelf in his hands.
Rory stood and took the shelf from him. “Sorry. Thank you.”
She laid the shelf on its back, inspected the bottom of the wood, and gasped when she saw two names carved there.
Caius and Adila
She stumbled back as tears filled her eyes. “How would I know that was there? It’s not possible. There’s no way I could remember that because I’ve never seen it before.”
If it wasn’t knowledge she already possessed, her brain couldn’t tell her in a dream.
Did Caius tell her in Vincula? How would they even broach the topic of the treehouse, let alone know they shared memories of the same one? When he found out she’d been there, he seemed surprised.
Her conversation with Sera resurfaced as she examined the wood. What if her dreams were real?
Sam cursed behind them, and Rory turned on him. “Are my dreams real? Is he really there?”
“What dreams?” Dume demanded. He reached down and grabbed the wood to examine it. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Reading the names, his eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Are these who I think they are?”
“It is not my place to say,” Sam replied. Rory didn’t know if he was answering her question or Dume’s.
Dume dropped the wood. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’ll tell you in the car,” she said, starting toward the entrance. In her haste, she stepped on a book, making her foot slip and her arms windmill. Dume steadied her, and when she looked down, her heart stopped.
“That’s impossible,” she breathed, snatching the book off the ground.
Rory flipped it open as the others watched her quietly.
Her hands shook when she saw Cora’s name written in childlike handwriting on the inside cover.
“I have this book in my bedroom at the safe house. It’s the one I had in the car after returning from prison.
” She looked at Sam. “How is it here? I didn’t bring it with me tonight. ”
His eyes flashed knowingly, but he said nothing.
“I need to get home,” she insisted, shouldering past Dume. Neither man tried to stop her, and when they were loaded up and driving back to her new home, she told Dume everything.
She didn’t care if anyone believed her or if they thought she was crazy.
After dropping Dume off, Rory peppered Sam with questions, but he refused to answer any of them. As soon as he parked in their driveway, she jumped out of the SUV with Cora’s book and ran to her room.
Sam’s loud footsteps sounded on the stairs, and she turned to glare at him. “Don’t bother coming up here if you won’t help.”
“Knowing and remembering are two different things,” he said quietly. “Knowing will only further your frustration, and remembering might break you.”
His words were a blow to her resolve. “If you were me, would you stop trying?”
The muscles in his shoulders tensed before he eventually said, “No.”
A sort of understanding passed between them. Sam wouldn’t help her, but he wouldn’t stop her, either. She took a shaky breath and opened her nightstand drawer to retrieve the book that matched the one in her hands.
Holding them up, she realized the one from her nightstand was in better condition than Cora’s well-loved copy. The bedsprings creaked when she lowered herself to the mattress, and she placed Cora’s book beside her to open the mystery one.
Nothing was written on the inside, but when she flipped through the pages, a scrap of paper fell out.
Rory,
The oversized buzzard won’t let me in. I guess your royal boyfriend hasn’t changed his mind about letting you attend the ball. Tell him to fuck off for me. The bird, too. I’ll be back tomorrow, and if the brute doesn’t let me in, I will light his wings on fire.
-Bellina
Rory read the note repeatedly. “Sam, who is Bellina?” she yelled, not expecting him to answer.
He appeared at her door, sympathy painting his features. “May I see the note?”
She placed the paper in his outstretched hand, and when he read it, he scowled. “My wings look nothing like a buzzard.”
Despite herself, Rory laughed. “Can you tell me if the note is real?” It felt like a stupid question since it was tangible evidence, but she wanted to hear him say it.
After handing the paper back to her, he walked to the door and said, “It is.”
Rory’s breath caught as she watched him go.
Looking back down at the paper, she carefully placed it back into the book that wasn’t Cora’s. Her dreams were real because if her brain had tried telling her things from her time in prison, someone as important as Bellina would have surfaced.
Remembering her new dress, she grabbed it and took a shower to get ready. When she was primped and polished, she slipped under the covers.
Not taking any chances, she grabbed the potion from her nightstand and drank more than necessary.
Her last thought before sleep pulled her under was, “He’s real.”