Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I’m on my second mug of tea. I yawn so big my jaw clicks, and my eyes water and sting. Gosh, I’m so tired. So much has happened, and it seems impossible for me to just sleep. My head is too full of thoughts buzzing around like a hive of angry bees.
On top of that, I need to ring my unicorn grandfather up and return his horn. The thought makes me a little sick, as it will not be a pleasant experience trying to get the damn thing off. I’m dreading it.
My lips pull down into a grimace. How selfish does that make me?
I fiddle with the bone necklace. It’s warm underneath my touch.
The power buzzes against my neck and fingers.
I don’t want to be selfish… but I can’t help taking a moment to mentally prepare before I have to ring him.
Also, it’s five in the morning, and calling him this early would be rude.
I should at least wait until the sun comes up.
I nibble on my lip and glance down at the necklace.
When I look at it, my heart sinks. Oh, it is pretty enough.
The rainbow colours make it look like colourful costume jewellery.
At first glance, you’d have no idea that it was bone.
I was so busy fighting to get it back I didn’t have time to think, and I felt such joy when I finally had it in my hands.
But now I’ve had time to think about it, my heart hurts.
It is heartbreaking to know what my horn should look like after seeing my grandfather’s horn in all its glory. When I compare the two… It’s horrifying. A part of me has been butchered and reduced to magical jewellery. It makes me feel sick.
It’s worse than someone chopping off… say my little finger and wearing it as a necklace. The horn holds all my magic and pieces of my soul. It’s not just magical bone.
I sip my tea. I’m also worried, worried that I won’t be able to fix it and my horn will never go back to its original form.
The witch ruined it forever. Will it still allow me to shift?
My fingers drift back to the necklace. It feels powerful enough; the magic doesn’t feel broken.
When I give Denby Jones his horn back, if I can shift, will I be a unicorn without a horn?
I don’t like the idea of having part of my soul around my neck, easy to remove, easy to steal. So even though I now have my horn, it’ll be hard to let his go. A tear trickles down the side of my nose. I quickly swipe it away.
It’s been a long night.
I won’t be able to sleep until I make the call. Who am I kidding? Even when I make the call, the worry whipping around inside my head won’t be conducive to good sleep.
Today has shown me I’m willing to kill to save strangers and to save myself.
My hand trembles, and I place my mug down on the side table.
I rise from the chair and shuffle into the middle of the orangery.
Near Justin, I lie down on my back. The bone necklace makes a faint clack when it touches the heated tile.
I join Justin as he stares out through the glass roof lantern and into the dark sky.
Xander, who apparently is now running a hotel for misfits, insisted Justin come home with us.
My angel took full responsibility for the young vampire after he got him registered with Atticus.
Justin was understandably frightened of the other vampires, and Story’s puppy dog eyes swayed Xander.
I smile. That man has so many levels. The more I see, the more I fall for him.
That thought makes me wiggle, and the hard floor digs into my spine.
Sunrise is still hours away, and with my enhanced shifter eyesight not hampered by the city lights, I can see the stars.
I don’t know who said when life knocks you down, roll over, and look at the stars. Looking up at the night sky reminds me how insignificant I am in the scheme of things.
The vampire next to me is silent. He has been lying with his arms behind his head, staring out into the night, for over an hour. I leave him to his thoughts.
I know some people see vampires as dead creatures, and I also know other vampires see bitten vampires as expendable. But… I lift my chin to peek at him.
When I speak to Justin, all I see is a person. All I see is a guy trying to make his way in the world. So it would be hypocritical of me to see the vampires who died today as nothing less than people. People I killed.
The problem isn’t that I feel guilty. I huff out a silent laugh. No, the problem is I don’t. I feel nothing.
After the shock of the fight has dissipated, I find to my horror I don’t care that I killed them, and it freaks me out.
It has me digging into my psyche.
What the hell is wrong with me? I know I’m not human, and there’s no pretending anymore that I am. If I had to do it all again… kill them and protect the people on the street, protect Justin, I would. No, the only thing I regret is that Lord Luther Gilbert got away without a scratch.
The witch is alive; I guess it was only fair that Justin got to decide her fate, as she tormented him the most. While we had the attention of Atticus and his team of elite vampires, the hunters guild and the human police, Xander dragged out my unconscious prisoner from the toolbox.
Karen Miller is alive, but her existence won’t be pleasant, and without my unicorn magic, she is next to useless, and we’ve been told they’ll bind the natural power she has.
I’ve been told she is being sent off-world to a prison planet. Never to be seen again.
The sound of clicking claws drags me from my thoughts, and a normal-size Dexter struts towards me.
He returned to his normal size once I was safe; it was a good thing too ’cause there was no way Dexter in giant beast mode would have fit through the portal.
I let out an oof as the heavy cat leaps onto my chest. His claws dig in as he pads my chest to make sure I’m comfortable enough for his ginger behind. Satisfied, he lies across me.
“Thank you for saving my life today, kitty cat,” I say, breaking the heavy silence of the room. I run my hands down his back, and he stretches out and then flips over. Grabbing my hand between his paws, he pulls me towards his spotty ginger-and-white tummy.
“If you hadn’t followed me, I would’ve died. So thank you, Dexter. You are the best monster cat in the world.” I gently stroke his tummy, and he purrs at my words.
When the sky lightens and the night recedes, I move a sleepy Dexter and get up off the floor.
“Come on, Justin. You have a room with a bed. I think Xander has even put in a mini fridge for you with your blood supply. There’s also a datapad and a new phone in case you need to ring or contact anybody.
” I drag him up off the floor and ignore his unconscious flinch at my touch.
I keep my distance so as not to make him any more twitchy.
We wander out of the orangery and head towards the bedrooms. As I walk, I groan and roll my shoulders and swing my hips to alleviate the stiffness. Lying on the floor for a few hours wasn’t my best idea. I drop him off at his room.
I pull out my phone and dial the number for Denby Jones. The phone rings and rings… He doesn’t answer. I guess I’ll give him another hour as it’s barely seven.
I sit in the kitchen, yawning as I push jam around my plate.
Gosh, I hope nothing has happened to him.
Not that I didn’t light the match of the shifter council being booted out of power and hunted down.
I still find it strange that I can’t seem to get hold of him.
If it was me and I had lent some girl I don’t really know the source of my power, part of my soul…
Yeah, I would have the phone permanently stuck to my hand, waiting for her call.
At ten, when I still can’t get hold of either of my bio grandparents, I ask Xander if he knows where they live and if he can take me to their house.
I don’t think Denby is staying there, as Ann kicked him out, but she might point me in the right direction.
I need to give the horn back as soon as possible.
I don’t want to hang on to it any longer than I need to.
I also have questions about my vampire mum and Ryan, her son, my father, aka the horn thief.
With the lack of a portal code, we couldn’t use the gateways.
We’ve been driving for thirty minutes. I pretend to stare out at the world whizzing past. Instead, I watch Xander in the window’s reflection.
He takes my breath away; he’s so beautiful.
He holds the steering wheel one-handed at the bottom, his arm resting on his leg.
Like everything he does, he’s a studious driver.
I can’t help my grin. Xander drives a little bit like an old lady going to church.
My smile fades and my stomach churns. I trace the outline of his face in the window. Weirdo. I curl my finger back into a fist, and my nails bite into my palm. This is why as soon as I deal with this horn business, the misfit gang and I need to move out. I rub my knuckle on the glass.
We have our flat; I need to ditch the angel.
Unrequited love is a real bitch. It hurts. My heart hurts, and living with him is not healthy.
God, I hope we won’t walk into another problem. I don’t think my head can deal with any more shit. I’d like a few months off. Even the vampire side of me is done with bloodshed. Yet I still don’t feel guilty.
I lick my bottom lip and sigh. “I don’t feel bad,” I say, my gaze still fixed out the window. I avoid his reflection now as I don’t want to see his face and his disappointment.
“You don’t feel bad about what?”
I zip my coat up to my chin and nibble on the little plastic toggle. “I don’t feel bad about killing those vampires,” I mumble.
When he says nothing for a few seconds, I dare myself to turn my head. His eyes flick to mine. His beautiful honey eyes are soft and full of compassion before he looks back at the road and manoeuvres the car around a mini roundabout.
“If you weren’t worried about not feeling bad, not caring, then I’d be concerned. It’s when you don’t reflect on the lives lost that is the time to worry.”
“Or when you start to enjoy killing… What if I—”
“You are not a psychopath. Those men would have killed you without a second thought.” He reaches over, and his big hand envelops mine. I look down at our innocent joined hands, and my heart flips.
“Tru, in life you can’t control what happens to you, but what you can control is how it shapes you.
You cannot allow the bad things to break the person who you are.
Dent, mould, shape, but never break. Do you understand?
You alone get to decide what each experience means to you.
” Xander drops my hand and gently taps my temple.
“Only you get to decide what happens in here.”
I sink into my seat.
Xander is right. I don’t mind being a bit dented.
We’re all dented, some people more than others.
The shadows in my eyes add character. It is up to me alone if I allow the bad stuff to break me.
“Thank you,” I mumble. Now I feel warm and squishy.
Why does he always do that to me? God, it’s going to hurt to walk away from him.
Some people write, create music, dance—I hurt bad people. I think it’s what I’m made to do. I might as well put it to good use. I can be a saviour too.
Xander changes gear, and the car slows as it turns into a street where all the houses are huge. When we pull up to their house, it is obvious something isn’t right. “Is this it?” The gate, which is a big solid wooden thing, is wide open.
“Yes.” Xander’s hand tenses on the steering wheel, and the golden stone rumbles up from the tyres as we slowly crunch our way down the drive.
I fidget with the zip on my coat, and my head swivels side to side; the place looks deserted.
“Where are the guards?” I mumble. I lean forward in my seat and click my seat belt off.
The alarm on the dashboard pings, so I grip the headrest and hover off the seat so it stops.
“It shouldn’t be empty, not with the unrest,” I whisper.
“No, it shouldn’t,” Xander grunts out. “Perhaps I should take you home and return by myself. I haven’t got a good feeling.”
I haven’t either. My instincts are screaming at me to leave. But Ann is family—new-to-me family, but I can’t let that stop me from doing the right thing and checking on her. “We haven’t got time.” When the car rolls to a stop, I’m out the door, silver blades in my hands. I march across the stone.
The house is enormous. It’s old and fancy-looking with pillars at the front. It’s the type of house a period drama or a movie would hire as a location. All that is missing is a horse and carriage.
The car switches off, the engine ticking in the sudden silence. “Tru,” Xander chides me. “Please wait for me.” His door clonks shut. I stand still for a second and move as soon as I sense him silently join me.
I jog up the steps.
White smoke drifts in my peripheral—white with little gold flecks—Xander’s magic.
He is in warrior mode as he takes two big steps to overtake me, and with a nudge, he pushes me behind him.
The magic bleeds out of his hands. And then Xander is holding a gigantic sword, bigger than a longsword.
It is double-edged, with a straight blade.
I don’t recognise the design. It’s the same one he had the other day in the garden.
He twists the handle on the front door. It swings open on silent hinges, and with his sword arm blocking me from going ahead of him, we both look inside without stepping over the threshold… and perhaps avoiding a magic trap.
“Hello? Ann? It’s Tru… Is anyone home?” I shout. “Grandmother?”
Calling her grandmother sounds so strange to my ears. I only called Denby my grandfather at first ’cause I was being sarcastic, and then I did it out of respect.
Silence greets us.
I glance at Xander, and he raises a heavy, dark eyebrow.
“Can you sense any magic?” I ask, dropping my voice to a whisper.
“No,” he grunts out in a normal tone. “No ward, no magic of any kind.”
I guess he doesn’t need to whisper as I already announced our presence. I rub the back of my prickling neck with the hilt of my knife. “That’s what I thought.”
Oh heck, that isn’t good.