Chapter 23
LYRA
The shaking wouldn’t subside, even as the heat blasted from the vents of Grey’s car. Leftover mascara clumped together as I tried to blink away the tears. Despite my best effort, a few still trailed down my cheeks.
Grey’s large, callused hand rested on my thigh, the pad of his thumb rubbing small circles.
His touch drove away the tension, relaxing my muscles, pumping endorphins straight into my veins.
The heady feeling was addictive. After just one hit I was hooked, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to kick the habit.
He was a high I would be chasing for the rest of my life.
“Lyra,” Grey said my name softly. I lifted my head; my eyes were puffy and red as I turned to look at him. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been sitting in his driveway, but my ass no longer had any feeling in it.
“I’m sorry,” I said between steadying breaths.
“Don’t apologize.”
“Oh… sorry—” The second apology rolled off my tongue on instinct. I bit my bottom lip to keep from saying it a third time.
He leaned over, tucking me into his chest. And it felt like the safest place in the world. Like nothing bad could happen if I stayed here forever.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured against the top of my head. “This was not your fault.”
“But what if I had just listened to what she was trying to tell me? I always ignore the whispers at first.”
“I don’t think your magic works like that,” he said in a gentle tone, and I knew he meant it to be a comforting sentiment. That I wouldn’t have been able to save her, regardless, but it still stung.
“I ignore the whispers because I’m scared.” I looked down, refusing to meet Grey’s stare.
“I don’t blame you. I’d do the exact same thing.”
“But my mom embraced them.” The shame burned like acid settling in my stomach. “She wasn’t scared.”
“But you still go to the church to help the souls.”
“My magic only brings death,” I said the words I knew to be true. Death had always been my closest companion.
“No, your magic doesn’t bring death.” His chest rose and fell in time with mine, my breathing in sync with his own. “Lyra, you bring peace to weary souls who wouldn’t be able to find it without you.”
I smushed my face into his chest, smearing tears, makeup, and snot onto his sweatshirt. No one had ever seen my magic in such a way. Not even myself.
“Let’s get you warmed up,” he said, leading me inside. Exhaustion dragged too heavy on my bones to protest.
Muddy footprints trailed down the hallway.
I had apparently left the house in only my pajamas and hadn’t even grabbed shoes.
Each step brought stinging pain as the feeling slowly returned to my feet, and the adrenaline wore off.
I limped, heavily favoring my left leg. The wound from the other night on the bottom of my foot hurt too much to put any pressure on it.
I fell a few paces behind as Grey disappeared into a room down the hall.
By the time I staggered in, Grey was turning on the faucet of the large ceramic tub in the middle of the bathroom.
The pipes screeched as water and steam filled the tub.
But all I could do was stand there, arms limp at my side, too exhausted to move.
Would it be weird if I got into the tub fully clothed?
Yes, it would be incredibly fucking weird, but peeling my soggy clothes from my freezing body sounded impossible.
Grey must have sensed my apprehension because he said, “I’m going to undress you now.”
His eyes met mine, waiting for permission.
I nodded, drinking him in. He’d seen a part of me I’d never shown anyone tonight, and he hadn’t run away. No, instead he had plummeted into the depths with me.
Goosebumps covered my body as he gingerly toyed with the hem of my tank top, and in one easy movement, he removed it, exposing my hardened nipples and leaving me standing in only my pajama bottoms.
I sucked in a breath. If he continued to look at me like that, I was going to combust into flames.
He lowered himself to his knees, his fingers skimming along my stomach.
His thumbs looped inside the waistband of my shorts, and he tugged them, along with my underwear, to my ankles and helped me step out of them.
I stood before him completely bare, which should have been humiliating but somehow wasn’t. I wanted him to see me. All of me. Every single flawed part.
“So beautiful.” He rose, taking me in his arms. “I knew you were going to be trouble from the moment you stumbled into the basement, my little witch.” He said the words so quietly, I wasn’t sure he meant them to be heard.
Wait…did he just say, my little witch? The exhaustion was making me delirious.
He slowly lowered me into the steaming tub. My toe touched the water, and I jerked it back with a yelp.
“Is it too hot?”
“Nope, that was an overreaction.” I laughed.
Grey’s chest rumbled with laughter as he set me into the tub, not caring if his sweatshirt got wet in the process.
The hot water felt like pins and needles pricking my skin, but eventually, it became soothing, unfreezing my extremities and easing the tightness in my entire body.
My eyelids fought to stay open, but it was a losing battle, and they drifted shut as I rested my head on the ledge.
My breathing evened out, and I drifted off to sleep, only to be woken by a slight tug of my hair. I pried my eyes open, expecting to see Grey, but no one was in the bathroom.
A second later, the air was ripped from my lungs.
Something pinned me under the water. My eyes flew open as I thrashed, kicking my feet and arms, trying to free myself from whatever had hold of me.
Water filled my lungs, silencing my screams for help.
The more I struggled, the harder the force held me under.
“Murderer!” a young woman’s screech pierced my ears. The feel of acrylic nails dug into my arms as she held tight, keeping me submerged under the water.
I couldn’t see anything. Bubbles spilled from my nose and mouth; my lungs begged for air.
“How does it feel to know that no one is coming to save you?” The voice filled my head. “To die alone and afraid.”
Spots blurred my vision. My legs and arms became too heavy. I couldn’t fight it any longer.
Strong arms wrapped around me, ripping me out the clutches of whatever was hellbent on drowning me. I tumbled to the cold tile floor, my shoulder landing with a bone numbing thud. Water splashed from the tub, covering the entire bathroom floor.
I gasped for air, pushing myself up onto my hands and knees. “It was the girl from the river.” I coughed, water vacating my lungs.
“The spirits are getting restless,” Grey said, draping a towel over my shivering, exposed body.
I hugged it tightly around my shoulders, bringing my legs to my chest, and cocooned myself in the towel. “You consider this restless?”
“If we can’t find a way to help her, she’s going to become a wraith. All the spirits who can’t pass beyond the veil might,” Grey continued, completely ignoring my question.
“What is happening?” My voice cracked from the exhaustion and fear looming inside. “What do you mean the spirits can’t pass beyond the veil?” Something broke inside me, and the floodgates of emotion and tears tore open.
“I felt a shift in the magic flowing through the ley lines tonight. Like something is coming.” Grey grimaced like he hadn’t intended to share the information.
“Have you felt something like this before?” I lifted my chin to meet his stare.
“It’s been a long time.” He crossed his arms over his chest unwilling to elaborate.
“When was the last time you felt this kind of magic?” I asked, annoyed. It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of him. I waited for him to continue while he just stood there, not saying a damn word.
Silence fell between us.
“Grey,” I pleaded.
“The last time was when this shackle was put around my neck,” Grey bit out.
“Wait…” his words clanked around in my head, “you think this might have something to do with you? With Veda?”
“I don’t fucking know.” He seethed. Red-hot anger radiated off him. His hands balled into fists. I watched in horror as he cocked his elbow and smashed his fist through the wall.
He was at war with himself, and he’d rather face it alone than with me.
“That’s your problem, Grey. You don’t tell me anything. You bottle it all up and don’t let anyone help. I’ve told you things I’ve never said to anyone! But you can’t tell me one real goddamn thing about yourself.” I waited, hoping he’d take the leap and trust me.
Grating, ear-deafening silence followed.
“Lyra…” Grey rubbed the back of his neck.
Say something I screamed in my mind. Begging, willing him to believe he could trust me.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t—”
“It’s fine,” I cut him off. Not wanting to hear a bullshit excuse. I stalked from the bathroom, wincing as I put weight on my right foot.
But that pain was nothing compared to the painful crack that tore through my chest.