Chapter 16 - Alisha
After Scarlett leaves, I try to go back to the couch to relax, but anxiety rises in my guts, fueled by the dozens of unanswered questions bubbling in my brain.
Why, Brad, why? And how could you keep this from me, after everything we shared?
Tears slide down my cheeks as I sit and stare out the window, as if I’m looking right into my most recent memories.
His hands on me…his lips, his tongue. Making me breakfast, coming to meet me at work…
I have to gulp down a sob as I look at these beautiful moments lying shattered at my feet. I thought I had a new world. A bright, warm place full of hope and love.
But all I have now is deception and lies.
A terrible sob tries to rip out through my throat, and I gulp it back down. Suddenly, my feelings set fire to my blood, and a horrible restlessness takes me over.
Can’t stay here…I just can’t!
I jump to my feet, grabbing my phone and purse. Briefly, I look around, but there is nothing here that really belongs to me, nothing I want to bring.
As I walk to the front door, I look at the phone Brad bought me, wondering if I should take it.
I’ll hang on to it for now. I can ditch it later if I think he’s tracking me.
I take the bike out of the shed and pedal out onto the road, but I’m only a few streets away when I realize the fundamental flaw of my plan.
I don’t know where I’m going!
Another wave of sobs trembles in my chest, but I refuse to let them out. I can’t just leave town. I know Paul could be anywhere in the surrounding territory.
I can’t risk being found by him…
My first thought is to go to the gardens, but I know Brad will check there first when he comes looking for me.
I can’t stand the idea of him strolling up to me, all casual, with a happy, sweet smile covering up a web of ugly, horrid lies.
It literally turns my stomach to think about how he looked me in the eye and shared so much with me over the last few days, knowing that he was holding back.
I feel even more stupid that I gave him space and told him I trusted him! I was expecting to hear a tragic story of a dead family member…or a horrible accident where he ended up with amnesia…or maybe even complete financial ruin.
Letting the bike roll to a stop near a corner, I pull out my phone and text Grace. Immediately, she asks if I’m okay since I told her I was sick that morning.
I’m not great , I reply. Can I come to your house? I don’t want to be by myself.
Sure thing, hun. I finished at the gardens a while ago if you want to stop by.
I do, thank you! I just need a place to chill for a bit.
Grace gives me her address, and I immediately switch the phone off, just in case Brad can trace it.
I’m not even being paranoid. He probably has all kinds of spy tricks to track me with!
The idea is so frightening, I have to shut it out of my head. Even then, I feel like I’m being stared at through every window and watched by the sky itself.
Grace’s house is a modest little cottage not far from the gardens.
Even if I didn’t know the address, I would have guessed who lived here.
The front yard is adorned with different flowering plants and shrubs, all glowing with health and vitality.
Across the front porch, a long line of vines twists across the entrance, laying tendrils down like a veil.
Before I get a chance to knock, Grace opens the door. When I stumble across the stoop and wrap my arms around her, she hugs me back, clearly shocked.
“Oh, my dear!” Grace whispers, rocking me a little and stroking my back. “Whatever’s the matter?”
I try to talk, but my voice gets tangled in the thick sobs, and all I can do is gasp. Grace reaches around me to slam the door shut, then wraps her arm firmly around my shoulders to lead me to her living room.
Her house is very tiny and somewhat dark, but extremely comfortable. The house is shadowed, thanks to the trees and vines outside shielding the windows. The small rooms with high ceilings make it quiet and cool, like a cave deep in the earth.
“Sit down,” Grace says. “I’ll get some tea.”
“I’m okay.”
“The hell you are!” she snaps. “You look like death walking. You stay there. I’ll be back in a moment.”
While Grace goes to the kitchen, I try, very unsuccessfully, to calm down.
I end up just tearing a few tissues out of the box on the table and sobbing quietly into them.
I’m so lost in my misery that I don’t notice the jet-black cat sitting on the chair across from me until she sits up and stretches.
“Hey, kitty,” I mumble.
The sleek black creature takes delicate steps across the table, boldly climbs into my lap, curls up, and immediately begins to purr. My stress melts away, just a little, but enough to take the painful knot out of my throat and settle my stomach.
“Ah, I see you have met Sabrina,” Grace says, coming back into the room. “She’s my familiar.”
“I’ve heard that werewolves don’t always get along with cats. Or dogs, even.”
“That’s right,” Grace replies. “Some werewolves are wonderful with all animals, but others can put smaller creatures on edge. It really doesn’t apply to you, hun. You’re a witch, and Sabrina is a witch’s pet.”
“Oh. You said she’s a familiar. What does that mean?”
“It means that, however she looks, she will always be familiar to me. I will recognize her, and she will recognize me, no matter where we are.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling like that didn’t really answer my question.
“She grounds me, secures my magic,” Grace goes on. “And guards my dreams.”
“That sounds like a handy thing to have,” I reply, remembering my nightmare.
“Here,” Grace says, handing me a tall glass of iced tea. “And take a few of these cakes.”
“Oh, I don’t think I could eat cake right now—”
“Try one,” Grace says. “Trust me.”
I take a bite, surprised to find it isn’t very sweet, but has a very mild, honey flavor. The rough mixture is full of nuts and coconut. It settles my stomach straight away.
“Wow,” I mutter. “These are good.”
“I call it energy cake,” Grace says. “One little slice is enough to keep you going all day. Try the tea.”
I take a big sip of iced tea to wash down the cake, and it has a strong flavor, offset by generous amounts of lemon juice and an herbal tang.
“It’s good,” I say.
“Another special recipe,” she answers. “Now, you have a furry familiar comforting you, and your electrolytes replaced as well as some decent sustenance and sugar in you. Are you okay to talk, or would you like a bit more time to rest?”
Grace’s voice is somewhere between gentle and firm. It’s like being scolded by a loving older sister, and I find I appreciate it very much.
“I’m okay,” I say softly. “Thank you for letting me come over.”
“That’s no trouble at all,” Grace answers. “Stay as long as you like. But please, tell me what you were running from.”
“Nothing,” I mutter.
Sabrina raises her head and fixes me with her huge green eyes. She yawns, making a little meow sound. Grace laughs.
“That means you’re lying,” Grace says.
“So, your cat is a soothsayer?”
“Most of them are,” Grace answers wryly. “Come on, out with it. What were you running from?”
“Everything!” I cry, feeling my chest filling with sorrow again. “I can’t stay here. I’ve been so happy the last few days, but none of it is real. I have to leave.”
“Why?” Grace asks, watching me with a soft expression.
“It’s Brad,” I mutter. “He lied to me!”
“Oh, my dear,” Grace says, hugging me. “How bad is it?”
“Apparently, he’s some sort of secret agent,” I blurt out.
“Or, he was. That’s why he left me all those years ago.
I tried to give him space to talk about that, expecting him to give me some story about being emotionally immature and not ready to settle down at best, and severe personal tragedy at worst. I never imagined I could be part of some secret mission! ”
“But were you?” she asks. “Like, do you know for sure if he was using you?”
“No,” I whisper.
Grace nods. “Well, I think you'd better find out.”
“What does that mean?”
Grace sighs. “Can you really just go, without hearing his side of the story? I know you want to run, and I understand you perfectly. I’ll help you, if it’s what you decide to do. But if you go, won’t you always wonder what his reasons were?”
“No,” I say bitterly, and Sabrina gives me another hard stare.
Grace chuckles. “The cat has spoken.”
“Does she speak?” I gasp.
Grace shrugs. “I understand her well enough that it seems like she does. You’ll probably have the same ability as you grow into your powers.”
I stroke Sabrina’s soft fur, letting the humming of her purr soothe me. “Okay,” I admit. “I do want to hear what he has to say. I just can’t face him right now. I’m too angry, and too tired.”
“Yes, dear, what happened this morning?” Grace asks. “I was surprised to hear you were unwell. You seem to radiate good health most of the time.”
“Not this morning, I didn’t,” I answer.
Grace reaches out and puts the back of her hand on my forehead, frowning. “You’re a little warm, and I can feel your stomach is upset, but you’re being soothed by the cake and the tea. Your nerves feel frayed as hell, though.”
“You can feel all of that with your powers?”
“Some of it,” Grace answers, smiling. “Most of it is just observation. Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“I had a nightmare,” I say, putting my hand to my temple, which has started to throb. “It was terrible. Something was getting closer and closer to us. It was ancient and unstoppable. The power of this thing—it was immense.”
“What do you remember?” Grace asks, very quietly. “What did it look like?”
I try to think back on the dream, but it feels like my thoughts are blocked by dozens of sharp knives. I wince and shake my head, feeling the headache spreading down my neck.
“I don’t know,” I answer. “I can’t remember any details now, just the fear and dread.”
“They might not be dreams,” she says. “They could be premonitions.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groan. “Like, really?”
“Yes,” Grace answers, nodding. “It’s a very common skill amongst witches, and it can be very confusing at the start when your powers are awakening.”
“This is all I need,” I groan again. “Premonitions.”
“Like I said, it’s confusing at first, but it will become your greatest power. I don’t really have visions myself, but I do use my dreams to wander.”
I tilt my head. “What does that mean?”
Grace’s eyes take on a strange look, as if galaxies suddenly appeared deep in her pupils, turning with the slow roll of the universal orbit.
“I can walk between worlds,” she says. “Between the living and the dead, the lower realms and the earth…sometimes, between dimensions.”
I shudder a little. “Please tell me I don’t have to do that.”
Grace laughs softly. “Not at all. You’ll have the ability for sure—most mortals even have it—but very few use it.”
“Mortals can do it?”
“Anyone who has ever dreamed could do it if they want to,” she answers. “It’s all about measuring your steps in the otherworld, and building a—oh.”
“Hmm?”
“Sorry, hun. I’m boring you.”
“No,” I reply. “Just confusing the hell out of me.”
Grace chuckles. “Okay. I get it. I suppose the only question left is, what do you want to do now?”
I take another sip of the delicious iced tea, thinking. “I’d like to stay here, for a little while, if that’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” she replies. “I’ll keep it to myself for now, too. No one else needs to know you’re here.”
“Won’t that get you in trouble?”
Grace shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t care. You’re more important to me than any silly wolf rules.”
Her words touch me, and tears spring to my eyes again. I reach for her, and she hugs me, Sabrina purring even louder than ever between us.
“Why don’t you go have a shower?” Grace says. “I’ll put aside some clean clothes for you and make a nice, healthy dinner. Then we can watch a movie or something. Sound good?”
“Sounds amazing,” I reply, relief rippling through me like a physical sensation. “Exactly what I need.”
“Great,” she answers, smiling. “Bathroom is just down the hall. I’ll leave some clothes in the spare room next to it.”
Grace gets up to go to the kitchen, and I carefully pick up Sabrina and put her on the couch as I get up.
When I get to the bathroom, I’m not surprised in the slightest to see the corners crowded with green ferns and flowering vines.
The shower isn’t even covered in traditional tiles but in slabs of rock, so it looks like a forest waterfall.
I relax under the warm flow, feeling the comforting whisper of all the little ferns around me. It’s so peaceful that my thoughts rise and fall like leaves in a stream, and I can let them come without being affected by them. Slowly, my troubles fade.
Until I remember earlier today, the way Scarlett looked at me.
Why would she say that about being sick?
Suddenly, the dots connect in my head. My eyes flash open, and my body tightens with tension again. I think back, counting frantically on my fingers.
No, no, no…
I dismissed Scarlett’s suggestion so fast, I didn’t even remember it as I fled the house. But now, the evidence cannot be denied.
My period is definitely late. Really late.
It is very likely that I’m pregnant…with Brad’s child.