Chapter 10
Bridger picked up a photo in a gold frame, bringing it into the stream of light filtering through the window.
It was Vega in a simple white wedding dress doing nothing to show off her natural beauty. The material looked stiff and wrinkled, like it’d been pulled out of a box moments before taking pictures. Her hair was pinned back in a tight bun, and her makeup washed out her usually bright eyes.
Vega looked nothing like he’d imagined her to on their wedding day. A vision he’d once been able to see vividly.
Next to her stood a man with neat features and an unassuming face. “Vega, this guy looks like he sleeps with a fucking nightlight.” His smile looked too formal to be happy.
Vega deserves someone who smiles at her like I used—Bridger didn’t let himself finish the thought.
Standing in the home she shared with another man wasn’t something Bridger had ever expected to experience. He’d spent the first fifteen years of Vega’s curse wondering what her lives were like, and now here he stood, inserted into one directly.
She poked her head around the corner and noticed the picture in his hands. “I need you to take this seriously.”
Bridger could feel the frustration radiating off her skin, even from this far across the room. He scoffed. “I am taking this seriously. You told me to look to see if I noticed anything that could be cursed.” He wiggled the picture in his hand. “This looks like a curse to me. You looked miserable.”
Vega rolled her eyes, snatching the picture from him. Her eyes raked over it, completely unreadable. “I was. The dress was a size too small, but his mother insisted I wear the ugly family gown. She even told me it wasn’t the size of the dress that was the problem.”
Anger simmered low in Bridger’s core, his eyes taking their sweet time up Vega’s body. He started at her boots, slowly creeping up until his eyes caught on a black stone and golden band twinkling with every move of Vega’s hand.
Bridger’s breath caught in his chest.
She’s still wearing it.
It was on the opposite hand than normal, causing Bridger’s eyes to scan to her left finger. Another ring, shiny and silver with a single stone and decorative band took the spot where Bridger’s sword piece should be.
The thought of Vega with another man shouldn’t bother him—they’d been down that road. It doesn’t work, he lied to himself.
Bridger moved on before thinking too hard about it.
He wanted to enjoy the view, but he couldn’t look past the darkening marks around her neck. The flame of his rage grew. So much for moving on…
Some lives seemed to suck any life she had out of her, but this was Vega. My Vega. And he almost said so before being interrupted.
Vega’s voice calmed the wildfire of wrath growing inside him. He didn’t have time to think about what that meant. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” Bridger asked, snapping out of his daze and following her into the kitchen.
“Like you’re thinking of me naked,” Vega quipped with a cat-like growl, slamming a drawer a bit too hard.
She pulled out a hammer and whacked the frame a dozen times before she seemed content that she’d beat it enough to check it wasn’t cursed.
She swept the glass into the trash can and shoved the wrecked mirror under the kitchen sink, shutting the cabinet door.
Apparently, she thought he’d drop the subject and move on, but Bridger liked pushing her a little—call him a masochist, but he’d always loved being on the other side of Vega’s silver tongue.
If he was distracted by her sassy-ass mouth, then he wouldn’t have time to think about breaking the neck of whoever had left those bruises on her.
You’re here to save yourself, not cause more problems. Bridger wasn’t ready to unpack the emotions of it all just yet, choosing to shove them deep, unshielded and ready to crawl to the surface at any moment.
Bridger shrugged, picking up a trinket inside a potted plant. “I hadn’t gotten you completely naked in my head yet. I was distracted by the marks on your neck.”
Vega chucked a cooking utensil at him—Thank gods it wasn’t the hammer—but even without his powers, Bridger still had quick reflexes and ducked in time.
“I understand you’re angry with me, but you could at least pretend to be nice.
We have no choice but to be around each other.
” He closed the distance between them and held his hand out for Vega to grab the ceramic frog from his palm.
Her eyes glanced down at it, and her frustration was palpable as she jutted a hip.
“If I’m not trying to kill you, I’d say I’m being sugary sweet.
Which is way more than you deserve.” She plucked the frog from his palm and threw it down the drain, flipping a switch on the wall that started some kind of terrible grinding and clattering noise.
Bridger jerked away while Vega stood there, as calm as could be. “What the fuck is that?”
When the frog finally cleared through, Vega flipped the switch, and the noise came to a rattling stop. “A garbage disposal. Keep looking.”
Bridger didn’t move, raising a brow as if to ask, Who are you talking to?
“I still haven’t decided if I’m going to ditch you here by yourself or not, so if I were you, I’d be on my best behavior. You’re lucky you found me, and you’re even luckier I have my memories, or this would have been a whole lot more complicated for you. Stop pushing your luck.”
The idea of being stuck here like Vega sent a slow chill down Bridger’s spine, telling him to listen.
He moved throughout the apartment, positioning himself in the exact spot he’d seen in his dream.
His hands fell to the table, running his fingers against the smooth wood.
“Oh?” he asked, peering over his shoulder at her. “What makes you say that?”
Vega paused, standing on her tiptoes to see inside a low cabinet.
“Have you stopped to think about what happens now?” She lowered herself back onto flat feet.
“About how you get across the world without documentation in a place that loves to know who’s going where at all times? ” She came up beside him.
“I did think of that, actually. It’s why I had Marlena make a new portal.” He returned her attitude with a sarcastic smile. “It imploding obviously wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Oh yeah? And what is your plan exactly?” she inquired.
Bridger’s fingers stopped meticulously trailing over the smooth table.
The war waging in his mind, the torment he’d gone through once for defying Marlena, was almost enough to keep him in line.
Bridger swallowed and turned around to find her scarred eyebrow raised high in question and her arms crossed over her chest.
“To get you home to Tolevarre, of course.” Bridger didn’t feel like he was lying, but he definitely wasn’t telling the entire truth.
Vega went back to searching the apartment, checking small crevices she could only know about because she’d done it before.
“I can’t leave until I figure out what’s holding my curse to Earth and end it, or all of this—Arlet getting taken, all my research that’s led to this moment, the last fifty-five years—it will have been for nothing, and I’ll be right back where I started. Cursed, useless, and better off dead.”
“I mean, with the crack in the portal back home, I’d say you’re on the right track.” Bridger realized instantly what he’d done.
Vega’s eyes grew wide. “The portal what?” She gaped, going pale.
Oh shit. He hadn’t told her.
“It cracked. The portal cracked,” he said again.
“When did it crack?” Her voice was so quiet her lips barely moved.
The entire room tensed and felt like even the shadows were waiting for Bridger’s answer.
“We assume when you killed yourself,” he responded, his voice lowering too.
Something clicked in her head, and he watched as it happened. “The portal.”
The sound of keys clattering against a door erected Vega’s spine, and her face paled a shade further. “Fuck.” She practically jumped across the table, pushing her body up against Bridger’s until his back was flush against the window, where they were out of view when the door opened.
“Vay?” a man’s voice called through the apartment.
Bridger’s nose scrunched unintentionally at the stupid nickname.
Vega caught the look with a daggered glare.
He didn’t need to be inside her head to know what she was saying. Shut up.
Her whisper was hushed and fast. “Out the window, down the fire escape, and wait for me by the cafe down the street to the right.” She reached down and unlocked the window, turning her back on him while she hurried through the kitchen. “Coming!”
Vega paused, turning one last time to find Bridger in the same spot against the wall. The look on her face was easy to read—she was terrified what might happen if he didn’t leave. Please, her eyes begged.
Bridger, against his better judgement, ducked out the window and left Vega alone with her husband.