Chapter 22
Raw anguish rips through me, rendering me useless. My shadows abandon me and leave another hole in my soul next to the gaping one Clara left behind. I gasp for air, yet my lungs refuse to work.
It's an apt punishment for what I've done. Karma was kind enough to remind me when they dropped by. Dimitri wasn't much better. He raged at me for sending her back without a proper conversation. He wasn't there, though.
He didn't see the fear and regret swimming in her eyes. She didn't want to stay in Hell. She didn't want to stay with me. Offering her the option at that point would only make things awkward.
If she wanted to still see me, she would have summoned me.
Yet the familiar tug has been absent these last six weeks.
I don't blame her. We've had a tumultuous relationship.
I wasn't very welcoming at first. She was kind, and I repaid that kindness with sarcasm and insults.
Once I let her in, things may have gotten better. It wasn't enough.
Once I catch my breath, I stare at the dark ceiling.
Ever-present dark clouds swirl above me.
My entire place has been overrun with shadows and darkness.
I'm sure it's merely picking up on my own emotions.
Doesn't mean it isn't annoying. They aren't very good company.
Not like my own shadows, which have abandoned me since Clara left. Since I sent her home.
“Get up,” Dimitri barks from the doorway and I roll my head around. “Ludovic wants to see you.”
I wave my hand and go back to watching the patterns forming above me. “Tell him I'll find him later.”
“No. Now. You've been wallowing for weeks now. He wants you back at work.”
“Tell him to demote me, then.”
He prowls closer, his lip curling at the state of my room. “You'll lose your powers. Just like you lost her.”
“I didn't lose her. I let her go so she'd be free to live her life.” I scowl when he yanks the comforter off me. “You'd do well to let me live mine.”
He crosses his arms. “Get up or I'm calling Providence.”
“My sister won't come. We're not exactly a family of interventionists. She'll let me waste away as I see fit. I'm content where I am.”
“Well, I already talked to her, and she said if you don't do something about your issue, she'll be paying your little witch a visit.”
My body rockets upright and fire dances along my arms. “Leave Clara alone.”
He gives me a look of disgust. “When was the last time you showered? Your horns are molting and your hair is greasy as shit. I swear to fuck, you need to get your shit together before you actually do waste away.”
“I'm serious, Dimitri. No one goes topside. No one bothers her. She's living the life Fate laid out for her. She doesn't need more demons popping into her life. You saw how well that worked the last time.”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “I'm not the one you should be worried about.”
“Fuck,” I breathe and jump from my bed.
He steps in front of me, blocking my way. “You might want pants. Nothing like showing up to a witch's house with your cock hanging out.”
I glance down, then scowl as I stomp toward the bathroom. “Wouldn't be the first time.”
“What was that?” he calls after me.
“Fuck off,” I yell, slamming the door.
The last thing I need is him breathing down my neck, analyzing my every move. As much as I want to immediately jump through dimensions and intercept Prov, I also don't think she'd listen to me if I look like I'm falling apart at the seams. My sister will listen to me if I show her I'm fine.
“How long do I have?” I bellow.
“Don't know. Better hurry.”
I take the fastest shower ever, wishing I had enough magic to skip this part.
I tug on a pair of jeans and grab a shirt.
Skipping through dimensions might land me flat on my ass.
I'm loath to admit I need Dimitri's help.
When I open the door, he's busy cleaning up my room.
Shame hits me square in the chest and I clear my throat.
“You don't have to—”
“We're not talking about it. You ready? Providence is probably already on her way, if you're going to try to intercept her so you can avoid the inevitable.” He waves me toward him, then laces our fingers together.
“You know we don't have to hold hands, right?”
“A little moral support never hurt anyone.” He gives me a halfhearted smile, then whisks us away.
It takes longer than usual to muck our way through the void. I'm forced to relive my time with Clara. It's painful, yet cathartic. I see her every time I fall asleep, which is why I spend so much time in bed. If I can't be with her physically, then I'll be with her in my dreams.
The longer I'm away from her, the harder it is to stop myself from going topside. I'd gladly make a fool of myself, begging and pleading for her to give us a chance. All the reasons I had for not offering her to bind herself to me mean nothing. I should have told her we were soulbound.
As soon as we emerge on Clara's street, I've made my decision. If she's happy, content, and living her life, then I'll leave her be. If she's not, I'll convince her to come back to Hell with me. It's the only way I'll be able to move on.
“Listen, when we get in there, don't be weird,” Dimitri mutters as we make our way down the dusty lane.
“I don't know what that means.”
“Just don't start blubbering or something. Witches don't like that. A couple tears when the situation dictates, okay. Full on sobbing when no one died? Awkward. Especially with your sister there. She'll demote you for that alone.”
“We're the same rank. She can't demote me, first of all. Second, I'm not going to blubber. I'm perfectly fine. As long as Providence hasn't messed with her mind, we'll be fine.” I pick up my pace, forcing Dimitri to stumble in my wake.
As her house comes into view, I slow down. “Maybe you should stay here. Just wait for Providence to show up.”
“What? You don't want me there for your reunion?”
I walk away without answering. I don't have to talk to Clara, though I have a feeling I won't be able to resist if I see her.
Her house remains vine free so I doubt it's been too long.
Unless she moved. Or hired someone to deal with them.
Or maybe it's been a hundred years and she's…
no. That doesn't make sense. Time may move differently, but not that differently.
I peek in the front window, trying to catch a glimpse of her. My heart hammers in my chest when she comes into view. She looks…good. Frazzled, but good. With her dark hair in a messy bun and a flush on her cheeks, she takes my breath away. I swallow hard, at war with myself on whether to knock.
Clara blows a strand of hair from her face and stomps out of view.
Providence hasn't shown up, and Clara seems fine.
I should walk away—go back to Hell and deal with my slowly imploding existence.
I should rank up and remove the temptation of coming back here.
I should do a lot of things, yet my feet are rooted to the ground. One more glimpse of her is all I need.
“Omen, stop,” Dimitri hisses from behind me and I glance over my shoulder. He waves his hand frantically, and I huff before making my way back to him.
I'm only halfway when relief washes over me at the familiar tug in my gut.
My face splits into a grin as I vanish, then reappear in Clara's bedroom.
Her scent hits me hard and emotions tumble through me, threatening to bring me to my knees.
A string of muttered curses floats from the attached bathroom, and I shuffle to the side.
She's hunched over the toilet, her shoulders jerking up and down. I have no idea what she's doing, but I don't think she's hurt. We've had enough of that to last us a lifetime. She pauses, wheezing as she straightens and tips her head back.
“This never would have happened in Hell,” she mutters. “Magic would have magically taken care of it.”
I smirk at her statement, then sober, clearing my throat.
She doesn't squeal or startle, merely huffs in response. “You've got to be fucking kidding me.”
She turns slowly and we stare at each other.
I drink her in, searching for any changes.
Nothing. She looks exactly like she did the last time I saw her.
I don't know what I expected, but it's both comforting and unnerving.
Asking her how long it's been on this plane seems ill-advised. Especially since she's glaring at me.
“Hello, little witch.”
“Hello? That's all you got?” she growls. “You teleport my ass out of Hell without so much as a conversation, then show up with just a simple hello? Fuck you, Omen.”
She spins around and continues messing with the toilet. I want to ask her how long it's been, how she is, if she's missed me. Instead, my mind goes blank.
“What are you doing?”
“Plunging the toilet. Your fucking cat knocked an entire roll of toilet paper in and I didn't notice. Half the thing dissolved and got stuck.” She whips around and shoves a finger at me.
“And don't even tell me I should have fished it out.
I did and it still plugged up. So, unless you're here to take over, I don't need any tips or pointers or advice or whatever else you're selling.”
I hum as she spins around. I could leave her to it or…I grab her around the waist and lift her. She does squeal this time and my palms tingle. I set her in the shower.
“What am I doing here?” I ask as I gaze at the stick poking from the bowl.
“I have no idea what the hell you're doing, Omen,” she shrieks. She shoves the glass door open as if she'll climb out.
“I'm fixing your toilet, but I don't know what plunging is.”
A hysterical laugh leaves her, and she stops fighting with the door.
“There's a suction cup at the bottom of the handle.
You put it over the hole and push it up and down.
A lot. And you might get toilet water on yourself.
It might leak or splash out of the bowl.
In fact, it's almost impossible not to. So why don't you just…go back to Hell and let me deal with this.”
I glance at her and raise an eyebrow. “I thought you said to take over? That's what I'm doing.”
“I don't need your help,” she snarls.
“Yet here I am,” I murmur, then get to work.
It's not easy, especially with Clara trying to clamber from the shower every thirty seconds.
My shadows decide to make an unexpected appearance, and they hold her in place.
She yelps and I smirk as I start plunging.
It isn't easy with the suction part slipping every few seconds.
Plus, it keeps getting stuck in a weird position.
The damn cup keeps flipping in on itself.
“Why don't you just do that weird snapping thing,” she asks, irritation lining her voice.
“Magic's been wonky,” I mutter as I focus on not spilling the water over the lip.
“All magic or just yours?” she asks softly.
I grit my teeth. “Just mine.”
“Is that why you didn’t leave when I told you to go back to Hell?”
“Probably. Either way, doesn’t matter.”
A prickle of sensation trickles from my shadows, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Before, I didn't care about their absence.
At least not enough to actively worry about it.
They were gone and there was nothing I could do about it.
I assumed it was my punishment for being with Clara, even if for a short time.
I accepted it willingly. In the back of my mind, though, I agonized over whether they'd pop up again or if I'd lost them forever.
“Is that because of me?” she whispers.
“No. It's because of me.”