Chapter 2
Chapter Two
When my mother died, more than immortality leaked from her fingertips. The same thing happened when her mother died. And her mother … and so on. We call him a dark spirit. Our curse.
—Lorinne Leroux’s private journal.
The next day, Winter curled up on Tarik’s oversized couch, watching Cinderella. The mice and birds were sewing the pink and white gown together when a speckled mug drifted over and landed on the coffee table. She glanced up to see her brother grinning.
“One chai latte with almond milk and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”
She paused the movie, took a sip of her frothy tea, and beamed. “Mm. There’s extra vanilla in here.” Of all the amenities in this building, she would miss the café the most.
Tarik dropped his workout bag on the faux hardwood and strolled over. Blazing sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows glinted off his still-wet hair. Unlike Cole’s mop, Tarik’s locks were sheared short and kept neat—when they weren’t hidden beneath a baseball cap.
He sat in the recliner across from her and leaned forward. “Can we talk, please?”
“Sure.” She sat up taller, preparing to be scolded for her behavior last night.
“I’m sorry I lied to you about Mom. Pushing her on you was wrong.”
Winter exhaled. Of course he was the one apologizing. He’d been comforting her since before she could remember, soothing everything from scuffed knees to nightmares. “I’m sorry, too,” she admitted. “I was rude to you last night.”
He held her stare. “You weren’t going to tell me about Kaden?”
She eyed the small brown flecks in her mug. Keeping secrets from Tarik, the one who’d always been there for her, was agonizing. Saying nothing was easier.
“Look,” he continued. “As you said, this is your life, but Winn, I hope you know you deserve so much better than him.”
“I know, I just—”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “You don’t need to explain. I know you’re hurt, and seeing Mom didn’t help. Can we please have a clean slate before I leave?”
Winter nodded and took another sip. There was no point in making up stories about needing closure with Kaden, lying again. Tarik was leaving for preseason training tomorrow. “Are you excited to travel?”
He sat back and crossed an ankle over his thigh.
“It’s going to be a great year. I’m in the best shape of my life.
” If there was one consistent trait among the Leroux children, it was self-confidence.
“Which reminds me …” He slid a hand into his pocket, pulled out a key, and set it on the small table.
“Stay as long as you need to, but only if you promise me no Kaden. I don’t want him here. ”
She tapped her thumb and pinky together, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.” At the same time, she crossed two fingers behind her back.
“Dork.”
She hid her unease behind a smile. Spending time with Kaden was not her idea of fun, but she’d been putting off her own travel plans for long enough. Magdalene’s text messages had become just as incessant as her mother’s.
Another book is missing, Winter.
There goes one more.
Winter, three books have vanished from sight. When are you going back?
She’d yet to digest her new title—founder of Caldwell Archives Training Society.
Frankly, she wasn’t ready to. Seeking comfort, she reached for a throw blanket, wishing to bury herself beneath it.
The paused movie shifted to a screensaver—a female made of gold, trying to claw her way out of the black void.
Winter ignored it and took a deep breath. “Tarik, I have to tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not sure what Mom told you while I was gone, but when I time traveled, I learned a lot more than I was anticipating to. Like about what I am.”
He set his coffee down, squinting at her. “What are you saying?”
She swallowed. “Well, while you were rekindling things with Mom, did she mention anything about my real dad?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Of course not. “Mom lied to all of us, Tarik. We have …” She shook her head, spitting it out. “Different fathers.”
He went quiet. “No.”
“Yes. Mom confirmed it to me.”
Concern skittered across his face. “What? But—” He went silent, stared at her pointedly, and asked, “How could she keep this from us?”
Winter set her mug down because it was that or toss it against the wall. “Listen, it’s not just that.”
He eyed her warily.
“I’m not just a mage. I’m a wolf.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No fucking way. I thought you shaved your teeth out of spite.”
She blinked. “That’s what you have to say?”
Tarik moved, sitting beside her on the sofa. “Well now that I think about it, you being a wolf makes a lot of sense.”
She slid a palm over her face and groaned. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me feel better or just being annoying.”
He let out a deep sigh. “Wolf or mage, Winn, you’ll always be my baby sister. This is … unexpected, but as for Dad not being your real dad, that’s simply not true. He loved you so much.”
Her heart ached every time she thought about her father.
“Don’t you remember? He missed my baseball games to go to your tumbling meets.”
Winter lowered her hand, half-smiling. “He did, didn’t he.”
“Yes.” Tarik still sounded bitter about it.
“But Mom lied. To all of us.” Winter chewed the inside of her cheek. “How could she?”
Tarik leaned back, gazing at the coffered ceiling. “I’m wondering that as well. If you’d talk to her, maybe—”
“No.”
After an awkward pause, he switched gears. “So, can you shift?”
“Sort of.” The words sounded as unsure as she felt about the process.
He quirked a brow.
In this time period, bloodline dilution affected many immortals.
The power to transition forms was either there or it wasn’t.
Her fangs alone were proof she could do it—the points remained.
Tarik knew teeth remained sharp after shifting, but he waited for her to elaborate.
She’d spent years cursing the fact she was powerless.
Throughout all that time, he’d been her witness.
“I can shift, and it feels incredible …” His smile grew while hers faded. “Until it doesn’t. I can only manage one body part at a time, so the process is really painful. I don’t think I’ll ever try again.”
“Ever?”
“Changing back to my mage form took me three days. I was stuck in the archives while Magdalene deboned rotisserie chickens for me.”
Tarik burst out laughing. After his hysteria ended, he said, “Never change, Winter.”
She rolled her eyes, picked up the remote, and pressed play. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Me too. It was fun having you here.” He nudged her leg over the blanket, his tone going soft. “I’m really sorry mom lied. I love you, Winn.”
“I love you, too.”
She picked up her chai latte and took a big sip. There was so much more she wanted to tell him, but she kept her secrets close. If he knew the truth, he’d never let her time travel again.