Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Two hours later, Hiram wakes abruptly with one word on his breath.
“Shit.”
Hiram knows a runner when he sees one. Veda is predictable, and Hiram has been paying attention to her tells. He knows when she’s ruminating and wonders if kissing her was the right action at the wrong time.
By the time he’s finished dressing, the decision is made. He keeps a packed bag under his bed—a habit from his first escape. He packed a similar bag for Antaris weeks ago. After grabbing snacks for the road, his phone, and his keys, he tosses both bags into the trunk of his car.
Waking Antaris is hard because he’s sleeping so soundly, but Hiram manages it gently. “Let’s go on that little trip I told you about earlier.”
A blanket, his favorite bow tie, and a stuffed rabbit are all his son brings with him.
Hiram turns on the automatic cat feeder until he can call Peter to cat sit.
Antaris is already dozing again as Hiram pulls out of the driveway, activating the talisman as they leave.
The drive slows as Hiram relies on memory to find the right spot.
He misses it the first time, realizing he’s gone too far when the river comes into view.
But moonlight catches the path the second time.
“Reserare,” Hiram murmurs, uncertain whether the driveway will open to him until it does, the trees peeling back like an invitation.
Floating light illuminates the path, guiding his car through the thick brush until he sees Veda’s house. The outdoor lights glow dimly, and her bike is parked outside. Hiram checks on the still-sleeping Antaris before stepping out and approaching her front door. The talisman hums in welcome.
Inside, a light switches off. Hiram is about to write this entire night off as him coming to the wrong conclusion when the front door opens.
Veda steps out, bag slung over her shoulder. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I had a feeling you might run.”
“I wasn’t running.” The sharp tension in her doesn’t ease.
“The bag says otherwise.”
Irascible frustration sours her expression. “I couldn’t sleep. So much is happening. If I leave . . .”
“It changes nothing.”
“I’m in danger, which means you and Antaris are in danger because of—”
“You don’t have a plan, and Ariadne probably expects you to be impulsive. She’s been two steps ahead this entire time. If you’re going to go somewhere, it needs to be a place she doesn’t know or expect.”
“With you?”
“Yes. Well, with us.”
“Us?” She glances past him at the car. “Antaris is inside?”
“Sleeping,” Hiram confirms. “We could get out of town and come back with a plan.”
Veda studies him for a long moment before shaking her head.
“What happened in your kitchen shouldn’t have happened.
It can’t happen. Nothing changes the fact that I’m cursed, Hiram.
There’s a reason I don’t let myself want.
It’s unattainable. I don’t have a future.
I’ve spent years living on the bare minimum because I know that it’ll end in a second, and I can’t get used to something that’ll be ripped away.
I tried to have hope. I tried to be positive.
I left your house thinking—it doesn’t matter, it put everything into perspective and made it clear that I need to go back to—”
“To what?” Hiram snaps. “Isolation in the greenhouse or your cottage or fortress, whatever you call it—and avoiding everyone who gives a damn about you?”
“Yes! Exactly that! Get used to me not being here, because I—” Veda falters, visibly struggling.
Softer, she asks, “What happens when I die? Have you thought about that? Antaris is still grieving his mom, and losing me will send him spiraling backward. I know I started this by caring about him. He was drowning, I couldn’t let him, but I should have backed away as soon as you got your shit together.
I shouldn’t have kept coming to your house, acting and pretending like everything is normal when it’s not.
He’s a child. He can’t take too many hits. It’s better if I—”
“That isn’t something you get to decide without our input after making yourself integral to us!”
Veda’s eyes blow wide at his admission.
“Him,” Hiram amends weakly, then throws it all out in the open between them. “Fuck it—us. Him. Me.”
“Hiram . . .” There’s disbelief in her whisper.
“Trust me, I’ve thought about running from you as much as I’ve thought about losing you.
What will it do to Antaris? What will it do to me?
I’m not willing to back away. I’m so fucking sick of running, of accepting things I want to change, of not arguing or fighting and just letting things happen.
I meant what I said before. I’ll show you who I am, but I’ll do it by fighting for what I want. And that’s you.”
Veda is frozen. “What you want from me, I can’t give.”
“I know,” Hiram replies, soft and tentative. “But you think about it sometimes.”
When Veda says nothing, he takes a slow step toward her.
“You want to dream. To want. Am I wrong?”
Veda remains defiant, resolute, until the cracks split wider.
“I was fine before Antaris. I was better before you. But now . . . I can see the people I’m going to miss, and hints of the life I won’t get to live.
And I . . .” She fights back tears. “I’m not fine.
I’m fucking terrified, with too many regrets I keep pretending are sacrifices.
I’m sick of fighting for every single day and having to hold the pieces of myself together when I’m falling apart. ”
“Then rest.”
“I can’t. I can’t be weak. I’m supposed to—”
“No one asked you to be strong.” Hiram takes another step. “Stop burdening yourself, you’re not alone. You have people who will be here in a second to do whatever you need. Don’t push us away.”
Veda looks away. “I ca—”
“Just because you can handle everything alone doesn’t mean you have to.” He’s close enough for his fingertips to skim her chin. “Share the weight, Veda. I’m strong enough to carry it.”
“And if we can’t figure this out?”
“Then we’ll prepare.”
She cracks more, a tear slipping down her cheek. A wet chuckle escapes. “You’re going to regret this.”
“I won’t. We won’t. Just don’t shut us out. Trust me.”
The air vibrates until her words cut through the silence like a knife. “You’re asking for a lot.”
“I know.”
“I’m not worth the trouble.”
“You are. Trust me.”
Veda blinks back tears, scrubbing them away as they fall. “I don’t know how.”
Calm and controlled, despite the tremble of his own nerves, Hiram opens his hand. “Let me show you.”
A six-hour drive takes them to the coast.
The journey is quiet, easy, with soft music playing in the background and two stops for bathroom breaks.
It’s the only time Veda lets go of his hand.
When they arrive, it’s dawn, and they have an hour and a half before their water flight.
Antaris is awake and confused about their whereabouts, but too hungry to squint.
They eat breakfast at a diner with a view of the channel.
The more he eats, the more fascinated Antaris seems by everything.
Veda is subdued but asks, “Your family has an island.”
“Technically, a few. My family has spent the last six generations collecting real estate like socks. However, we’re going to a cabin on an island that I inherited from my uncle Sebastian. He built the place with his wife.”
“So you have an island?”
“It’s not entirely mine,” Hiram says casually. “There are year-round residents, but most are seasonal. I haven’t been there since I inherited the place.”
After breakfast, while Antaris and Veda watch a nearby ferry dock, Hiram calls Peter to catch him up, but his friend’s only response is: “What do you need?”
“A sitter for the nameless cat.”
“I’ll head over there in a few minutes. Cat carrier?”
“In the front closet.”
“Okay.” Peter pauses. “What else?”
“All your apothecary contacts and brewers in town. We’re figuring things out.”
“You’re with the best brewer I know.”
“She’s taking a much-needed break.”
Peter makes a small noise. “About time.”
“Oh, and don’t forget to water the herb garden, or it’ll disappoint your godson.”
“Consider it done. He’s only just stopped squinting at us. I’d hate a regression,” Peter laments. “Speaking of Antaris, when you get back, I’d like to have Khadijah give him a test. I have a few ideas that may help his socialization.”
“Okay, that’s fine.”
“Good.”
“What you need for Ariadne and the Sanguis Curse is in my office, if Gabriel and Francisco need to look,” Hiram says. “There has to be more information about her in the files. They’re enchanted. I’ll figure that part out once I get what I need.”
The pilot is ready when they arrive. Much like his last flight, Antaris looks like a baby owl just figuring out life while being strapped in.
But this time, instead of sitting stiffly, Veda persuades him to look out the window after takeoff.
At first, he shakes his head, covering his eyes, but then he peeks once.
Then twice. It turns into a stare. Then he does something Hiram doesn’t expect.
Without looking, without knowing Hiram’s already watching, Antaris taps his knee to get his attention.
“I see it.”
Veda observes him intensely, then looks away. Hiram doesn’t. Not even when Antaris falls asleep, leaning against Veda’s arm. He only glances down when she gently shifts the sleeping boy so he’s lying against Hiram instead.
“This isn’t a cabin.”
In Veda’s defense, it’s not. It’s a two-story house with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the waterfront and a private seaplane dock. They’re half a mile from the closest neighbors on either side, and behind the house is nothing but forests full of protected animals and plants.