Chapter 27 - Garrett
Lucas wasn’t in the common room when I finally made it home. After hours wandering around the city, glaring at anyone who crossed my path until the sun finally began to rise, I found myself near the Fratelli house.
I debated briefly about whether it was a good idea for me to go inside. I'd gotten away with it the first time, but eventually, one of the other men would recognize me for what I'd become.
Then again, maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to be put out of my misery.
What I really wanted was to talk to Lucas.
I stalked through the hallways with my head down, smiling thinly at anyone who made eye contact and mumbling excuses about not feeling well whenever one of them tried too hard to speak to me.
He wasn’t in the common room, and he wasn’t in the dining hall. I tried knocking on his door, hammering loudly enough that his neighbor shouted at me to shut up, but there was no answer.
Finally, I wandered back towards my own room, hands in my pockets, playing the events of the last twenty-four hours over in my head on constant repeat.
I should shower. I was sure I smelled terrible, and it was a way for me to pass the time until Lucas returned from wherever he was.
But then I thought about the last few nights. Of Marella stretching out beneath me, of her eyes taking hold of mine and her fingers wrapped up in my hair, and, despite everything, I couldn’t bring myself to wash away those memories.
When he learns that you bargained with his freedom.
I slammed my bedroom door shut behind me, wincing at the sound before sitting on the bed and letting my head fall into my palms.
What did she mean?
It was obvious that it had something to do with the Stone Witch. But why would she be interested in me, of all people?
It’s because you helped her.
I rubbed my temples, trying to fight off an impending headache.
If I had never approached her with the police, if I had simply walked away with Lucas and let her fend for herself, then none of this would’ve been a problem.
Jesus Christ, if I’d just stayed in Chicago, if I’d ignored the nagging sensation in the back of my brain when I came across the information about the Fratelli…
I wouldn’t be wondering how my freedom had been compromised.
And you would never have met her.
Yes, and that would have been a good thing.
Would it?
With a shout, I stood and kicked the wardrobe in the corner of the room. The feeble material cracked like it was made of cardboard, and I swore under my breath.
That’s when something on the floor caught my eye.
I hadn’t noticed it when I’d entered the room, but beside the door, as if it had been slid through the crack between it and the floor, was a small, folded piece of paper.
Still breathing heavily, I bent down to retrieve it with shaking fingers. I recognized Lucas’s handwriting before I read what it said.
Figured it out. Meet me at the library. Bring your knife.
I stared at the message for a long time, nothing but the sound of my breath filling the room. Then, I clenched my fist tightly, balling the note into a crumpled mess and tossing it to the ground.
I didn’t care.
I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
Caring about her—caring about this curse—wasn’t worth what I’d already lost. And I wouldn’t let her barter with more of my life.
And yet…
I looked down at my hands, at the lines crisscrossing my palms. I’d done this before, as I was deciding to leave Chicago.
I’d examined my palms like a fortune teller, wondering if there was something there that would tell me whether leaving home was the right thing to do.
Whether it would lead me to adventure or just leave me ruined.
I’d come to understand that those two things were not as mutually exclusive as I once believed.
I pictured the life I’d left behind—the peaceful mornings jogging along the lakeshore, evenings watching the sunset from my parents’ porch, and all the other quietly predictable moments of a life that left nothing to chance.
Why had I hated it? What, exactly, had been so terrible about peace that I’d decided to upend everything and travel across the world to put myself in mortal danger?
Because you were made for something better.
I exhaled a loud, long sigh, fighting off the urge to laugh desperately at the thought. There was nothing special about me. And now, I’d been cursed right alongside the monsters I’d come here to hunt.
My head shot up, and this time, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. It escaped from my throat in a manic bubble as I raked my fingers through my hair.
I tried not to think about Marella doing the same thing just hours earlier…
I was cursed. I was part of the curse now.
Regardless of how I felt about Marella and her lies, the only chance I had at reclaiming my life—my freedom—was to follow through with my original task. So I stood up, pulled on my robes, picked up my knife, shoved my hands into my pockets, and started walking.
I was going to save my own life. That was the mantra that repeated over and over again in my mind. I was saving myself.
But as I walked, it was her face I kept imagining.