31. Let Me Call You Sweetheart #2
Elias couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t process the fact that Luna—Luna—was standing in an alley in 1926, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. Not angry. But not warm either. Professional. Controlled.
Oh God. She’s here to tell me everyone’s dead. Or that I failed. Or that—
His throat closed and his hands shook. He wanted to ask if she was safe, if CastR had been stopped, if he’d at least managed to do something right. But he couldn’t make words come out.
Luna’s professional expression cracked slightly. Just for a second, something vulnerable flashed across her face before she composed herself again. “Pardon,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “Are you Mr. Elias Shaw?”
He still couldn’t speak. Was she here to rescue him? Punish him? Tell him he’d destroyed everything?
She cleared her throat. “I’m here on behalf of the newly formed Magician-Witch Truth and Reconciliation Committee, or MW-T&RC.”
“The . . . what? Is this a joke?”
“MW-T&RC. No joke, not at all. It all began with my mother’s speech at the— Oh.
Of course you don’t remember that. It was in Oak Haven.
Well, she talked about how it was time to repair our two warring communities.
Teams of researchers, one witch and one magician per team.
They travel through time, investigating historical conflicts between witches and magicians.
To discover what happened—not just the old stories that get passed down, but what truly occurred.
We’ll take our research back to the MW-T&RC, and the committee will determine what reparations, if any, are due from whom and to whom and why.
Mama hopes that this will begin—admittedly, quite slowly—but it will begin to create a foundation for peace between us. ”
Why won’t she just tell me if everyone’s okay?
“I’m here looking for a researcher to join me. Your résumé is . . .” Luna pretended to study her clipboard, but Shaw sensed she wasn’t actually reading it “. . . unconventional. There’s a rather confusing hundred-year gap.”
“Yeaahh, I was, um. Indisposed.”
“That’s putting it mildly. But you come highly recommended.”
“Luna—” His voice came out hoarse. “Is everyone— Are you—”
“The job comes with benefits. Flexible hours. Extensive travel across time.” She looked up, and her eyes were bright with something he couldn’t identify. Tears? Anger? “Room and board included. Of course, budgets are tight, so . . . we may have to share.”
His chest felt like it was splitting open.
She was here. She was actually here. Standing in front of him. Offering him a way out.
“What do you say?” Luna’s voice cracked on the last word. “Partners?”
The word broke something in him.
“Luna.” Her name came out barely above a whisper. “Luna, I-I need to know—did it work? Is everyone okay? Are you—”
But she was already moving, crossing the space between them in one leap, and then she was in his arms and they were both shaking and he was holding her like she might disappear if he let go.
“You’re here,” Elias managed finally, his face buried in her hair. “You’re actually here.”
“Of course I’m here, dummy.” Luna pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands framing his face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. “Did you really think I was going to leave you in 1926?”
“I didn’t know. I thought maybe—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t voice the fear that had been eating him alive for three months.
“We won,” Luna said. “CastR is destroyed. Vex is gone. Everyone is fine. Burke got away, unfortunately. He hasn’t been seen since the Fourth. But the point is, we won, Elias. You won.”
The relief hit him so hard his knees buckled. She had to hold him up, her arms tight around him.
“And you . . . The last time I saw you, you were so angry. Understandably. I stole from you, I lied to you, I—”
“I know.” Her voice was soft. “You were genuinely terrible.”
“I tried to telephone. To warn you about the wards. But Delilah—”
“I know that, too. She told me.” Luna’s hand brushed away tears he hadn’t realized were falling. “Elias, I forgave you. We talked. We made up. We were . . . together.”
He couldn’t believe it. There had been a reconciliation. There had been forgiveness. Apparently there had even been . . .
He swallowed hard. “Are you saying that we, um. Did we . . . ?”
“We did.”
“Did I . . . I mean, did I . . . comport myself well?”
Luna let out a broken, incredulous laugh. “Elias!”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You did very well.”
“That’s a relief, anyway.”
“I’m sorry, Elias. I’ve known that you were out here, probably thinking I hated you. That everyone was dead or angry or . . . I’m so sorry it took this long.”
“My God, you don’t have to apologize to me!”
“But I do.” She was crying now, too. “Witches don’t permit time travel lightly. It took Mama creating the MW-T&RC for me to find an excuse to come get you. I knew you were here, probably torturing yourself. But I couldn’t get to you until now and I just—”
He kissed her. He’d meant it to be gentle. A thank you. A confirmation. An I understand. But Luna kissed him back like she’d been drowning and he was air, and gentle went out the window. Her hands fisted in his shirt. His arms tightened around her waist.
“Elias!”
They both turned.
Vivi was standing at the corner of the alley, holding his jacket.
She gaped at the portal, which was still open, still humming with impossible light.
And then at Luna, and then at Elias, and her expression cycled through confusion and shock and something that might have been understanding.
“You forgot your jacket,” she said faintly.
He looked at her, this dear old friend who’d taken him in with no explanation required, who’d tried to understand him, who represented everything he’d been before the Void.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. “But I have to go.”
“Where?”
“Forward.”
Vivi stared at him. “On with it, then,” she said gently. “Whoever she is . . . get on with it.”
He nodded once, grateful.
Luna squeezed his hand. “Ready to go?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve been ready to go since the minute I left.”
“Good. Because we’ve got about thirty seconds before this portal collapses.”
“Luna.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
She gazed up at him, her smile bright enough to hurt. “Thank me later, sweetheart.” Then she pulled him into the portal, into the impossible light.
The last thing he saw before the city dissolved was Vivi standing in the alley, raising her hand in a small gesture of goodbye.
Then the light took everything, and he and Luna were falling forward together into whatever came next.
And for the first time in months . . . no, for the first time in a century . . . he knew he wasn’t alone.