Chapter 32 Memory’s Graveyard
Memory’s Graveyard
There was never a question of whether I would go.
I could barely remember the version of myself who ever ran from anything, certainly not from my own son. But tonight, the old nightmares nipped at my heels.
My fingers clenched around the door handle until it groaned beneath my grip, a futile attempt to expel the dread within me.
Mateo was out there, somewhere, certainly scared, perhaps hurt, and undeniably changed in ways I couldn’t even begin to guess. He needed me, and I was going to find him, no matter what waited between here and there.
The sun was dipping behind the ridge, and only a dull, angry red lingered at the horizon. The air was thick with humidity, carrying the scent of late summer decay.
The screen door shrieked in protest as I pulled it open, a noise it had always made, one that clung to my memories like a stubborn shadow. It was the same creak that marked the countless times Ems and I dashed in and out, our laughter weaving through the air.
I hesitated at the edge of the porch, running through the checklist in my head: phone, flashlight, knife tucked into my back pocket so tight it bit into my skin.
I was ready.
I had to be.
The first step was always the hardest, but my body remembered what to do even when my mind tried to rebel. I forced myself down the porch steps and onto the gravel driveway, each footfall a drumbeat for the nerves building in my chest.
The farther I pushed into the yard, the more the darkness pressed in, and the more my thoughts tried to shove me out of my own skull. I could already picture the woods: tangled underbrush, muddy trails, the half-formed shapes I used to fear as a kid.
No room for that now.
If I let myself think about what might be waiting out there, I’d freeze, and that was not an option.
Mateo was out there, and nothing, no nightmare, no monster, no memory, was going to keep me from him.
The question was who I could afford to trust on the way.
Aiden came behind me, keys swinging from his fingertips.
The muscles in his shoulders were wound tight, and his hazel-brown eyes locked on me with a fierce intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
It felt like he was seeing straight through the layers of fear and determination I wore like armor, the air between us crackling with everything neither of us dared to say.
“We don’t have time to waste,” he said. “Every minute we stand here gives them a head start.”
From the top of the porch stairs, Ulysses’s voice slid across the yard, smooth and cold. “Trust him if you like, Josie Mae. But remember… wolves make promises with their teeth bared. I, at least, don’t pretend my motives are pure.”
Aiden’s jaw tightened, the keyring biting into his palm. “And vampires mistake cynicism for honesty.”
The weight of their rivalry pressed down on me. I didn’t care about their posturing or their decades of grudges.
All that mattered was Mateo.
“Enough,” I snapped, sharper than I meant. Both men turned. “You want to help me? Fine. But this isn’t about your pissing contest. This is about my son.”
For the first time, Ulysses inclined his head, the faintest trace of respect glinting in his eyes. Aiden’s gaze softened, but his grip on the keys didn’t ease.
I made my way to the SUV. “I’m going,” I declared, sliding into the back seat without a moment’s pause. “You two can figure out on the way which one I’ll end up regretting trusting more.”
The engine of the SUV roared to life. The vehicle lurched forward, leaving behind the familiar silhouette of Emily’s farmhouse. Ahead, the forest loomed, a dark wall of shadows and secrets, swallowing the last glimmers of twilight.
Mateo was waiting for me. And with every heartbeat, I could feel the fire of determination igniting within me.
I was coming for him.
We drove in silence for a long while, the road curling like a ribbon thrown carelessly through the woods. Gravel spat out from under the tires as the black SUV muscled its way deeper into the trees, its headlights slicing through the trees.
Aiden stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, arms rigid.
His nostrils flared at every scent that drifted in through the cracked window.
His eyes, usually the warm brown of whiskey, had gone wolf-bright, flicking to the side every few seconds, where Ulysses sat in the passenger seat, his posture relaxed yet alert.
The vampire didn’t blink. He just sat there, eyes half-lidded, lips curled in a faintly amused smile. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was bored.
The tension in the car was a living, breathing thing. I wondered if Aiden and Ulysses could hear my heart pounding in my chest, or if they were both too wrapped up in their private cold war to notice.
There was a time when I would have tried to fill the silence with nervous chatter, but the words dried up somewhere between the fear and the fury.
Instead, I watched the woods flying past, each turn of the road a reminder that the world outside still existed, that somewhere at the end of all this, my child was waiting for me.
I didn’t trust either of them further than I could throw them. Maybe less, given the supernatural weight. But I needed them both, and they knew it. That was the worst part; they loved it.
Aiden kept sneaking glances at me through the rearview mirror, his brow furrowed with something dangerously close to tenderness, while Ulysses seemed content to let his presence do all the talking.
I ignored them. I pressed my forehead against the cold window and let the blur of trees steady my pulse.
I tried to map out the woods in my mind, reconstruct every trail and dead end from childhood memory.
The old mill road, the stone bridge, the hollow where the creek split; the places where we used to play, the places no one went anymore.
I leaned forward from the back seat, my voice steady despite the storm twisting in my chest. “Take the next left. The old mill road.”
Aiden’s eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror. “The mill? Why there?”
“Because that’s where it started,” I said. “Back roads will take us straight to the clearing behind it.”
Ulysses tilted his head, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “Ah. So the lady does know where she’s going. I was beginning to wonder if we were simply driving in circles until fate tripped over us.”
I shot him a look sharp enough to cut glass. “Just drive,” I told Aiden. “Turn right at the mill. The dirt path runs past the river.”
“Convenient,” Ulysses murmured, the corner of his mouth curving. “You keep a map of all your old haunts memorized, Josie?”
Heat pricked my cheeks, rage crawling up my spine. “This isn’t a haunt. It’s the place I swore I’d never set foot in again. The only reason I remember is because nightmares don’t fade.”
That shut him up. For a moment.
Aiden’s grip on the wheel tightened. His voice was low, almost a growl. “You don’t have to explain yourself to him. Just tell me where to go, Josie. We’ll find Mateo.”
I exhaled, shaky but resolute. “Good. Because I won’t lose him in those woods, too.”
The tires hissed over gravel as Aiden turned down the dirt path. Every bend in the road dragged me closer to memories I’d buried deep: bonfire light, laughter, the sudden hush of the woods before everything shattered.
And somewhere ahead, my son.
We barreled down the dirt road, headlights spearing through a forest so dense it felt like a living thing that wanted us lost. The trees pressed in on both sides, branches so close they scraped metal and glass, screeching overhead and down the doors.
I barely noticed the jolts of the SUV that vibrated up my spine; my mind was too busy bracing for impact.
In the front seats, Aiden and Ulysses might as well have been the only two people in the universe. The silence between them was heavy with so many unspoken things; it was a wonder the car didn’t burst from the pressure. Even my own breathing felt like an intrusion.
With each curve of the road, the woods changed, thinner here, thicker there, the shadows sometimes absolute, sometimes breaking just long enough to let a sliver of moonlight through.
That moon wasn’t a friend, not on nights like this. It chased us all, painted us in sharp relief: the wolf, the vampire, the mother clinging to hope like a life raft.
I watched Aiden in the rearview, his profile cut from stone. He didn’t so much drive as command the car. His eyes never left the road, not even to look at me. He smelled of sweat and apprehension, a scent I’d come to associate with him.
Never fear, not Aiden.
Every time he shifted in his seat, the muscles in his shoulders rippled tight under his t-shirt, ready for anything, ready for everything.
Next to him, Ulysses’s midnight suit was a stark contrast. His hair wasn’t mussed by the wind; it was artfully arranged. He had the relaxed posture of someone accustomed to power, but his eyes never stopped moving.
It was Ulysses who finally broke the silence, and of course, he did it in the most obnoxious way. His tone was almost gentle except for the undertow of mockery in every syllable.
“So. The old mill. Charming choice for a rendezvous.” He didn’t even bother to look at me when he said it.
I stiffened, but I didn’t answer. I tucked my hands under my thighs to keep them from shaking, my eyes glued to the road and the way it merged into the blackness ahead. We weren’t all that far from my nightmares now.
Aiden’s jaw flexed so hard I thought I heard a tooth crack. He kept his voice level, but it sounded like it was being strangled in his throat. “You don’t need to comment on everything, Morozov.”
“Old habits,” Ulysses purred. “Though I must admit, this little venture feels… nostalgic.” He rolled the last word around his mouth as if he was tasting the finish on an expensive bourbon. Then he paused. “Doesn’t it, Aiden?”