Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Roz’s eyelids were too heavy to open. When she tried to, they didn’t obey, crusted shut by goddess knew what.
She tried to flex her fingers, to wiggle her toes, to slowly return to her body.
There was an ache in her bones, in her chest, and she wondered for a moment if she’d been hit by a car.
No—a bus. Something large, for there was no other explanation for the way she felt.
When she finally opened her eyes, it was to her ceiling, not a hospital room. What if she’d been hit by a bus, fell into a coma, and was transported to her home to be healed by the witches? And now she was waking up from a very long, very --
Wait. The cemetery. Alaric. The anchor.
Roz tried to sit upright in bed, but only succeeded in a half-crunch. She rolled onto her side, her breath catching at what she saw.
Alaric.
He sat at her desk, his head nodded forward in sleep. He wore his preferred change of clothes. His face still showed his bruises, but the crusted blood and dirt was gone.
He was whole. He was here.
Or was she there? Had she died? Oh goddess, she needed to --
She flopped off the bed and onto the floor and it hurt. Okay, so not dead.
Alaric jolted in the seat, instantly on alert. He dropped to his knees when he saw her on the floor, gingerly gathering her in his arms.
“You’re here,” she croaked. Her throat was so sore she had to swallow a few times before the words formed.
“I am,” he affirmed. He smoothed her hair from her face and kissed her forehead gingerly.
“I did it,” she said, louder now.
“Yes, you did, you extraordinary witch.”
“If you’re mad at me, you’ll have to deal with it,” she continued.
“I’m not,” he said. “Though I wish there was some other way to be here without taking from you.”
“I feel—” She was about to say fine, but she couldn’t lie to him. “Like shit. But a good shit, like when you work out really hard at the gym.”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what that’s like.”
“When you build a house, and you have splinters and you’re sore, but you know it will fade…and now you have a house,” she amended.
“Alright,” he said after a pause. She looked up at him, suddenly serious.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” she said.
“I did too,” he said.
“What happened?”
“Selma thinks the tether was attached to the curse. I was technically still in purgatory, and the tether was keeping me here, and once I was removed from purgatory, the tether snapped,” Alaric said. “And when we tried to rejoin it, it couldn’t hold, because I was free.”
“Selma was here?” she winced.
“I needed someone who could tend to you. I hope you’re not angry.”
“No, she was the right choice. I’m surprised she’s not still here.”
“She left a few minutes ago—something about your sister.”
Roz winced. She’d been so caught up in her own stuff she’d forgotten about Delia. She made a mental note to visit her later.
“What day is it?”
“Saturday afternoon,” Alaric said.
“Like, the next day? Or like…a week later?” Roz asked.
“Next day,” Alaric said.
Roz sighed. “Well, we can still make the Pumpkin Festival, at least.”
“You need rest,” Alaric said.
“I slept almost a full day. I’m sure once I have some tea and a cinnamon roll, I’ll be fine.” She sat upright and was glad that her head didn’t swim. Alaric kept a gentle hold on her arms, guiding her.
He stared at her a long moment, his fingers tracing her cheek. “You don’t regret it?” he asked quietly.
“Not yet,” she said. “If you keep treating me like porcelain, I might.”
His lip ticked up in a half-smile before he smothered it. “We’ve no idea the long-term effects of this. What if—”
Roz lifted her hand to his lips, pressing gently to silence him. “I knew the risks. I read the same thing you did.”
He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips. “You’re always so selfless,” he said quietly.
“No, this was me being selfish,” she said. “Because I wanted you here. I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving, of not seeing you again. I was willing to do the tether as long as it took, whatever it took. I did this for me, because I want you.”
Alaric swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice broke.
“I was afraid to ask you. These last few hours, the last day…I kept thinking, ‘this can’t be the end of it! I need more time!’ But who was I to ask such a thing of you?
I thought I overstepped when I told you how I felt in that bakery.
I worried you’d push me away, and I’d have ruined something so wonderful. ”
A tear tracked down Roz’s cheek. Alaric wiped it away. “I’ve upset you.”
“No,” she said. “I’m glad you’re who I’m navigating this with.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Are you okay with aging? With others seeing you? With being in the spotlight once more?”
Alaric twirled a piece of her hair absently, considering. “I suppose we will find out.”
“Tomorrow,” she said. “There are broom races, for the Pumpkin Festival. Will you be my date?”
“I’d love nothing more,” he said.
The string lights illuminated Main Street, making it look more like midday than evening. Food carts dotted the street, selling everything from candied apples to apple cider to Pumpkin Festival merchandise.
“Are you ready?” Roz asked, shifting her purse to her other shoulder.
“Of course,” Alaric said, though Roz wasn’t convinced. “I doubt anyone will recognize me.”
Roz looked pointedly to the statue of Alaric sitting on the bench just a few steps from them. “As you’ve said, they made me more handsome. No one will recognize me in the…well, not flesh. Whatever this is.” He motioned to his slightly glowing frame.
They intended to head to the Pumpkin Festival earlier that day, but instead spent the morning in bed and the afternoon exploring new facets of Alaric’s permanence.
He seemed to exist somewhere between human and ghost, while Roz remained as she always had.
Other than tired and sore, she hadn’t noticed any ill effects of the anchoring.
Roz took his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers. “Let’s go,” she said. Alaric nodded, and together they walked—hand in hand—down the street.
The first few people they passed didn’t give her more than a sideways look, resorting to their typical behavior of skirting around her and avoiding eye contact.
The next few looked a bit longer, squinting at the man next to her.
Then the whispers started.
“Subtlety is a lost art,” Alaric said. “In my day, you’d truly wait for someone to pass before whispering about them.”
“I’m used to it,” Roz said with a shrug. She approached the candied apple vendor and ordered two. The woman handed Roz hers, then paused, her hand halfway extended to Alaric. Her gaze travelled from his glowing hand, up his arm, to his chest, then rested at last on his face.
“Holy shit,” she said.
“I’ve been called worse, but I prefer Alaric,” he said, flashing a charming smile.
The candied apple fell from her hand to the ground, her gaze still trained on Alaric’s face. “It’s you.”
“Yes, yes. It’s I, beloved founder-adjacent. Do you have another of the peanut butter candy-covered apples? I’ve so wanted to try it.” The woman scrambled to grab another, her arm trembling as she handed it to him.
“Splendid,” he said, nodding down the street. “I fear that is just the beginning,” he said once they were out of earshot of the vendor.
“We can go home, do this more gradually,” Roz suggested.
“No, I’m a man of action. Best to get it over with in a public form, where there’s less time for gossip. I need them to all see how fetching I am with this new glow.”
Roz rolled her eyes but continued down the street, coming up short when a short, old woman stepped before them.
Gertrude.
The woman gave Roz a once-over, then stared openly at Alaric. “By the goddess above, is that Alaric Blackwood?” Several heads turned, most of which had already been whispering to each other.
“A pleasure,” Alaric said, taking Gertrude’s hand in his to place a faint kiss to her knuckles. “And who might you be?”
“You’re dead,” she said, but didn’t withdraw her hand.
“Yes, for quite some time,” Alaric agreed.
“How are you here?” she asked.
“A talented necromancer,” he said, wrapping his arm around Roz to bring her close. “Miss Graves managed to reach me after so many failed before her.”
“Her?” Gertrude asked, raising a white eyebrow at Roz.
“The very one,” Alaric commented. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’ve a lot to experience. We didn’t have flushing toilets in my time, and I am eager to try one.”
He stepped around her and led Roz with him, his arm still around her. The town parted for them, the whispers following.
“How long until they’re sick of me?” Alaric asked.
“A week,” Roz said.
“I think I can accomplish it in two days,” he said. By now they’d reached a clearing in the center of Main Street, where a raised platform held a DJ. Before him was a dance floor, currently only occupied by children. They watched a moment until the music changed to something slower.
“Will you join me, Rosalin?” Alaric asked, holding a hand out to her.
“Dancing?” she asked.
“A slow one, mostly I just hold you close and shuffle my feet. I’ve seen it in movies, it’s seen as romantic.”
She laughed and took his hand, following him onto the dance floor. He pulled her close, his arms around her waist, hers around his neck. They swayed slowly to the music. Roz closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against his chest.
The music faded and switched to something more upbeat. Still Alaric held her close, swaying despite the beat. Two more songs passed before he stepped back, looking down at her with a content smile.
She smiled up at him, closing her eyes as he lowered his head to kiss her. A few gasps erupted around them, but Alaric didn’t stop. He kept kissing her, his hand along her jaw, her body pressed to his.
“You’re not acting like someone that wants to stay here much longer,” Roz said in between kisses.
“We can stay as long as you’d like. I’ve found I’m patient now that I know I have forever with you.”
“Forever?” Roz asked.
“Yes, when we eventually die, we will cross over together. And then I will have you in the afterlife. There is no escaping me now, you’ve anchored us.”
“What if I get bored of you?” Roz asked.
“You will not, I am full of many surprises.”
“And if you get sick of me?” she asked.
“I am unable to get sick, I am a ghost,” Alaric said.
“I guess that settles it,” Roz said, her smile widening.
“It does,” Alaric agreed, looking up at last to the small crowd that gathered around them. “I suppose I owe them an explanation.”
“Do you?” Roz asked.
Alaric considered a moment. “No, I don’t think I do.”
Then he kissed her again.