Chapter 8
EIGHT
Galen didn’t speak during the drive back to town. It wasn’t anger permeating the cab of his truck as much as thoughtfulness. That made it somehow worse.
“How long are you going to be like this?” I asked when he pulled into a parking spot in front of one of our favorite beachside restaurants.
He glanced over at me. Rather than speak, he shrugged.
I scowled. “This really wasn’t my fault.”
“We’ll talk about that when we get home.” He opened his door. “I texted an order when we were leaving the ranch. The food should be ready. Stay here.”
I considered arguing just for the sake of it. Instead, I turned my attention out the window and stared at the big moon, which would be full in a few days.
Galen went inside, retrieved our food — coming out with two huge bags — and put it on the floor in the backseat before hopping behind the wheel again.
“I feel as if I’m getting punished by my dad,” I complained as he took off in the direction of the lighthouse.
“Mmm-hmm,” was his taciturn response.
I glared at him. “You know, I’ve had a trying day.” Picking a fight with him was not smart. His silence irritated me to no end, however, and I couldn’t help myself. “You should be coddling me.”
“I’m pretty sure that spending a hundred and fifty bucks on your favorite food is coddling you,” he shot back.
Well, that was a point. “You should be petting me, stroking my hair, telling me how brave I am.”
“Were you brave?” he asked in his most diplomatic voice. “To me it seems you were stupid and had no choice but to be brave once you were on a different plane.”
That, too, was a fair point. “I didn’t realize what was happening.”
“You said it was calling to you.”
“It was.”
“What should you have done under those circumstances?”
“Well, Dad, I probably should have mentioned that I heard it whispering. I wasn’t planning on crossing. Booker coming toward me kicked my fight or flight response into high gear and it happened before I could even register it.”
“Which proves my point.”
My glare sharpened. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“I’m just the man who loves you more than anything, who would have been left behind never being able to follow to get you. I would have grown old trying to get to you, pictures of you living in a hellscape haunting me for eternity.
“There would never have been children or any happiness, not for a single instant,” he continued. “I would have turned into a shell of a person and never smiled again.”
He said it in a serious tone but I found myself smiling. “And you say I’m the dramatic one.”
He smirked. “That’s how it would have played out.”
“Please, you would have called a million different witches in until you found someone to open that door,” I argued. “You would’ve had me back in weeks.”
“If you had survived that long. It sounds as if there’s some sort of supernatural serial killer there, a creature who likes his work.”
And another point in his favor. “I’m sorry,” I blurted, not realizing I was going to apologize. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. Then, when I saw her … I lost all common sense.”
He pulled into our driveway, killed the engine, and gave me a sympathetic look. “And that’s why I’m going to coddle you when we get inside.”
Hope ignited in my chest. “So you’re no longer mad?”
“I’m not mad, Hadley. I was afraid. You have no idea of the terror. An hour passed for you, but it was a full day for me, and on the heels of your grandfather disappearing. What was I supposed to feel in that moment?”
“You could have had faith that I would find a way back to you.” Even to my ears it sounded lame. I pushed forward anyway. “I’ll never leave you.” I leaned closer to him, my lips near his ear. “You’re stuck with me for life.”
He pulled me to him and buried his face in my hair. “I know you’re capable, Hadley. I don’t doubt that. I just … I love you.”
“I love you too.” I held tight a moment longer before pulling back. “Honestly, you were the first person I thought of. I knew you were going to be upset.”
“I tried to throw a punch at Booker for not watching you more closely.”
“It wasn’t his fault.” I shook my head. “The whispers … it was as if they were calling to me specifically. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“It was a trap,” he said. “The others didn’t hear the whispering. That’s why you should have mentioned it. Aurora would’ve realized right away.”
“Well, we know for next time.” And we both knew there would be a next time. “I’ll be able to keep my wits about me going forward.”
He didn’t look convinced. “I’m worried that knowing your mother is over there — or something that looks and acts like her — will propel you to want to cross again.”
“I’m more worried about Wesley right now.”
He made a face. “It’s human nature for you to want to see her again, even if she’s not your mother.”
“Will you think I’m crazy if I tell you I believe it’s her?” I felt like a little girl seeking approval.
“I never knew your mother.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “You’re the deciding factor on this one. You’re the one with the really good instincts.”
I pursed my lips. “But what if I only believe it’s her because I want it to be her?”
“Let’s take the food inside and talk about this,” he said. “There are a few things we should discuss.”
The ruthless growl of my stomach confirmed his suggestion.
HE CARRIED IN THE FOOD AND WE SAT at the kitchen table. Normally we’d eat take out in the living room, but crab was messy and I was not a dainty eater.
Galen tucked a dish towel in the front of my shirt and I dug into the huge box of crab. I made a face but he didn’t apologize. He sat next to me and opened his container of steak and potatoes.
“No seafood for you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I didn’t eat all day. I need the protein.”
That was a shifter thing. He preferred red meat to seafood but liked shrimp and crab as much as the next person. I was addicted. “Okay.” I smiled. The more I thought about what had happened, the angrier I got about the Wesley situation.
Galen could read me better than anybody and knew what was going through my head. “Nobody blames you for getting distracted by your mother,” he said. “Wesley won’t blame you either.”
“Do you think he’s seen her?”
“I don’t know.” Galen paused with his steak knife halfway to his huge ribeye. “It’s possible she’s there to serve as a distraction. She didn’t know he was there. You said it yourself.”
“Right. She said she was going to look for him.”
“Sounds as if she understood the assignment enough to get you home. She waited for you to come through, seemingly knew it was going to happen, and then timed it just right to get you out of there.”
“That’s something a mother would do,” I said.
“Unless she’s trying to get you to trust her and it was all part of an act.”
“Like this serial killer wants me to fall for her act because of who she’s pretending to be? Why not just attack when I walked through the door?”
Galen shuddered. “Don’t put that idea in my head!”
“Sorry.” The last thing I wanted was to torture the man.
“It’s possible this killer was worried you would start throwing magic right away. Maybe he wants to get you on his side so you’ll open a door for him to go through.”
“Then why have my mother send me right back through?”
“It’s about building trust. As long as he has Wesley, he knows you’ll be back.”
I snapped a crab leg and yanked out the meat a little more viciously than I would under normal circumstances. “In the scenario you’re painting, Wesley is still alive.”
“Killing Wesley doesn’t get him what he wants.”
“What if he doesn’t want me?”
“He created a trap specifically for you. What we need to figure out is why he wants you.”
I dipped my crab in melted butter. Galen had thought ahead and gotten a big tub of it. He knew exactly how to coddle me. I nodded as I ate some more crab meat. It was delicious, but I couldn’t find the same joy I normally did when inhaling it.
“The obvious answer is that he wants my magic,” I said after opening the container of shrimp. “He either wants to steal it so he can escape, or he wants to motivate me to use it to save Wesley.”
“Sounds probable.”
I ate some more. “The thing is,” I said after more than a full minute of silence, “how does he think I’m going to help given what I know about his killing tendencies?”
“Maybe he killed Clive as a gift to you. He knew that Clive was your enemy. I’m sure Clive told him everything before being killed. That little weasel would do anything to save himself.”
Clive had been gone for months. That would be years on the other side. “Clive didn’t look exactly the same,” I said. “He did look older, by at least several years.”
“You said that plane is a hellscape. It could have been hard living.”
“Maybe, but I was over there about an hour. My mother said that door opened only once a day. If I’d stayed, more time would have passed. She said weeks. How long was I gone?”
“Twelve of the longest hours of my life,” he replied.
“Twelve hours.” I was bad at math. “So two hours is a day.”
Galen laughed at my struggles. “One day on the other side would be almost 300 hours on our side or twelve days.”
“Clive would have been there several years.”
“And we don’t really know how time works on that side, whether it slows or quickens at the far end of the clock, but that’s fine. Three years on a hellscape could age a man fast.”
“Right.” I ate more crab. “If that door opens once a day at the same time, why doesn’t our killer use it to cross over?”
“How do you know he hasn’t?”
“Just a feeling.”
“Then maybe he doesn’t use it because he can’t.”
“Which would mean that only witches can? Clive would have used it to get back if he could.”
“Maybe the door was created for you specifically.”
“Who made it?”
“Your mother?”
“But how did she get there?” I had so many questions and not nearly enough answers.
“Baby, I don’t know,” he replied. “We need answers from her.” He didn’t look happy about it. “I need you to promise that you’re not going back there until we have a plan.”
As desperate as I was to get Wesley back, I agreed we needed a foolproof plan. “I won’t disappear on you again,” I promised.
“You can’t guarantee that.” He was resigned. “Just tell me you’ll do your best.”
“I always do my best.”
He made a face.
“I’ll do my extra special best going forward on this one,” I added.
That nudged a smile out of him. “Eat your dinner. Then you can give me my massage.”
“I thought you were going to coddle me?”
“Maybe we should coddle each other.”
Another idea I could get behind. “I like the way your mind works.” I shoved a huge chunk of crab in my mouth, splashing butter on my cheek in the process.
I SLEPT LIKE A ROCK. GALEN’S MASSAGE led to romance — they always did — but both of us seemed to need the intimacy to settle. My dreams were dark, shadows chasing me at every turn. A voice led me to safety each and every time.
That voice belonged to my mother.
When I woke the next morning, Galen was already up and working on his phone. He didn’t say anything — not right away — but he tugged me to him so my head rested on his chest. He kissed my forehead and then went back to typing.
I allowed myself to be grumpy for a few minutes — I was never going to be one of those people who woke up with a smile on my face — and then focused on what Galen was doing.
“Any news?” I asked hopefully, already knowing the answer.
He shook his head. “I’m going back out there after breakfast.”
“We are?” That surprised me.
“Not we.” He glanced down at me. There was a stoniness to his countenance. “I’m going back. I’m taking Booker.”
Oh, so after making up we were going to start this morning with a fight after all. “You can’t stop me from searching for my grandfather.”
“I have no inclination of stopping you. I want to check out that area without the threat of my fiancée going missing. If you’re there, I’ll be a nervous wreck.”
My eyes narrowed to slits.
“I’m not saying you can’t go,” he started.
“That’s good, because you’re not the boss of me.” I sounded like a broken record, but I couldn’t stop myself.
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I want to get a feel for what we’re dealing with. Besides, you have work today.”
“What work?”
“You’re the mayor. Isn’t today the day you allow open hours for residents?”
He was boxing me in. “I’m sure the residents will understand if I’m not available.”
He arched an eyebrow in challenge. “Have you met the residents? There’s no way they’re going to pass up open hours, even if they do feel sympathy for you.”
I hated — absolutely loathed — that he was right. “Galen—”
“No. I get that you want to find Wesley. So do I. More than anything. We’re not going to risk a repeat of yesterday. We need more information.”
“I should be with you when you’re gathering information.”
“You’re going to be the mayor today — at least for the morning — and I’m going to be the sheriff.” There was no give to his tone. “After lunch, we’ll talk about plans going forward.”
I could have argued with him. I wanted to argue with him. I decided to be smart for a change.
“Let’s eat,” I suggested. “If I’m hangry, this conversation won’t go well. It’s better we have it on full stomachs.”
He gave me a sidelong look. “I won’t change my mind.”
I wasn’t going to change mine either. It was still better to wait. “Breakfast,” I said. “After that, we’ll figure things out.”
“Fine.” The cock of his eyebrow told me he was willing to go to war. Well, that made two of us.