Pink. I saw a flash of pink and white in the dark.
***
Tony tapped my shoulder, and my eyes blinked slowly as I drew out of the vision. My mind felt muddled from the alcohol and the fumes Eric had been inhaling then. I was in a haze.
Eric had been dreaming about a year before we met. This life, the car accident that broke his leg and shattered his knee. Why had he called to me?
Aurora was there… at that party. That was her smiling at him. But… we were only in high school…
“Sandy,” Tony called, reaching for my free hand. As his fingers gripped mine, I was pulled back under.
1205, ELIJAH
“Cassandra,” I called out in a whisper.
I searched the woods for her, climbing through tangles of ferns, searching around every tree and bush. Where had she gone? Why did she always do this? Didn’t she realize that I worried for her just as much as she worried for me? She was my sister, my caretaker, my friend. She was nearly burned alive hours ago. Why did she fight my protection? Hadn’t I proven myself?
I neared the brambles in view of the sagging cottage. A body lay on the ground before it, the face barely visible between long blades of grass. I sucked in a sharp breath as I recognized the white features of the dead man. Heodred, the king’s guard who’d helped us escape. I rushed out of the trees to his side and gasped in horror. His head was detached; his blood coated the ground. Someone had killed him.
A crash made me jump. The sound came from within the cottage…
Cassandra.
I drew the knife from my belt. Gripping it hard, I ran toward the sound, sliding on the blood-soaked grass. I shoved the door open. It slammed against the inner wall, and I stopped short.
A stream of harsh light glared from holes and breaks in the roof and walls, making it hard to see in the shadows. I squinted as I searched the dark room. The princess was in a heap on the floor, a pile of green velvet and sticky red blood. Eric, my sister’s love, lay on a bed, his skin blue with death, his fingertips blackened like a bad bruise. Purple blotches spread from the corner of his mouth, trailing down his neck like tiny branches. And my sister…
She knelt on the floor, leaning over his chest. Her long brown hair tangled down her back, woven with tiny sticks and leaves. She began to move. No… fall. Her body slipped free from Eric’s, and she crashed to the floor with a knife protruding from her chest.
“Cassandra!” I yelled. I dove to my knees and gathered her into my arms. “Cassandra!”
Her eyes were closed. She didn’t respond, but she was still warm. No, no, no, this could not be happening. After all we went through to get here… Who could have done this to her? Who would dare? “Cassandra, wake up, please,” I begged. I did not know how to help her, or what to do.
I looked to the wicked princess, seeking help from anywhere, and was leaning closer on my hand when a sharp pain dashed up my arm. There was a vial on the floor, broken under the heel of my hand and oozing a puddle of black liquid around my fingers. It must have fallen from Eric’s bed, the sound that drew me inside. The puddle stung at the cuts in my hand, and a warm tingling spread up my arm. I shook the glass from my skin. The black liquid seemed to soak into the punctures.
My eyes darted around the room, taking in the drying herbs, the incense over the fire, the bubbling pot and jars of poultice. A wooden bowl beside Eric’s body held a thick green paste. The color matched the stains on his stomach’s bloody wrappings. Heodred was right, the golden princess was a witch. She had tried to save Eric. He had been so brutally injured… healing must have been impossible, but maybe this magic could help Cassandra.
“I’m going to save you,” I promised my sister, holding her tightly. “I won’t let you go.”
Wincing, I drew the dagger from her chest. She convulsed with the motion, her hand twitching in mine, and the blade made a sick, sloshing sound. Blood pooled and spilled over her tattered dress. Tears sprung to my eyes. I cast the blade aside and reached quickly for the green paste. I scooped my fingers into it and smeared the poultice into her wound. I pressed my hand firmly to the hole in her chest. “Work,” I whispered. “Please, God, let this work.”
Her bleeding began to slow, and I felt a moment of triumph. The magic would save her.
“Cassandra?” I called softly. “Sister?”
I shook her hand, trying to wake her, but her face appeared empty. My bloodstained fingertips brushed her still cheek. Her body grew colder.
“Open your eyes. Please.”
Hot tears slipped down my cheeks as I waited, watching helplessly as the remaining color in her white face faded.
“You cannot die!” I screamed in tearful frustration. “I refuse to allow it! Come back. Cassandra, please. Come back, I beg you,” I sobbed, gathering her against my chest. My blood-soaked hands trembled as I struggled to keep her close though my anguish. My tears fell to her face, trailing her cheek and soaking into her hair.
I had failed her. She was gone.
***
Tony shook my hand gently, trying to wake me. “Sandy?”
My eyes blinked open. The pain he’d felt slowly settled into my bones, making my body heavy and numb with grief. As my eyes met his, I noticed he was not in tears. He was not crying. He was unaffected by what we had just relived.
He didn’t see it, I slowly realized.
How could that be? I lowered my face to hide the tears that leaked from my eyes. I struggled to keep from showing any trace of what I’d experienced. I couldn’t allow Tony to see his grief in my eyes. I stared down, trying to compose myself, and slipped my hands from both his and Eric’s holds, clenching them into fists.
“Her nurse said we can go back in,” Tony told me.
I swiped at my eyes and looked cautiously to Tony through a veil of my long bangs. He was too grief stricken over Amelia’s situation to notice the torment on my face. I blew out a breath to settle my nerves and attempted to put that terrible memory aside.
As I followed Tony, each step was agony. My knees threatened to buckle. I pushed on numbly, forcing myself to focus on the present, not our past and the horror he’d suffered from finding my body. I had remembered killing myself in that life, and I’d never once thought about what would happen after, who would find my body and what that would do to him. Poor Elijah. How could I have been so heartless?
How did I even see it? I’d only ever seen mine and Eric’s memories. But now Tony’s too?
I shook my head to clear it and concentrated on breathing steadily. Tony needed me. I’d failed him in the past, but I was determined to be there for him now.
He walked hesitantly into Amelia’s room, worry slowing his pace. I wished I had more couth and maybe some sympathetic instincts. His current family was on their way, but until then, he was a wreck and I was the closest thing to comfort around. Unfortunately, I was a cold, awkward person to those in need, despite feeling the opposite on the inside. I just hoped he could see past my defensive layers. Maybe he was too distracted to wonder why I hadn’t given him a hug or told him that everything would be fine. I hoped so.
Amelia was awake again, sipping slowly from a plastic cup. She set it on the small table beside her but nearly missed, and her head bobbed lazily. She was clearly under the influence of heavy painkillers. Tony caught the cup as it teetered on the edge.
“What did they say?” he asked her carefully, setting the cup down. I saw pain in his eyes that matched the worry he’d felt when walking inside the decrepit cabin.
His current sister gave a tiny shrug with her uninjured arm. “I hit my head,” she said softly. Such a simple answer to an incredibly complicated night.
A frustrated look crossed Tony’s face. “And? How is it?”
She gave a heavy sigh and rolled back against her pillows. She looked up at the small TV perched on the wall and flipped through the channels with the remote. “I don’t know. I didn’t look at it,” she muttered, leaving the TV on a soap opera.
“I called Mark. He sai
d he’ll be here tonight,” he told her.
“What happened?” I asked her quickly.
Tony shot me a look, but Amelia glanced at me, her expression a hazy mix of emotions.
“They think you tried to kill yourself.”
“I didn’t. I fought her,” she revealed, blinking slowly. “Did she fall?”
“Yes,” I answered.
She looked satisfied and leaned her head back.
Tony’s phone buzzed, and he checked the screen. “The family’s here,” he announced.
Amelia grumbled under her breath.
“I’ll be out there,” I said. I needed to leave before his mom, dad, and siblings arrived. If I could be cold to Tony, I definitely would be to a bunch of people I’d never met.
Before Tony could object, I fled to the hall. My palms swiped at my stinging eyes as I walked. They wanted to weep so badly, but I refused to let them. Now wasn’t the time. I didn’t deserve the release of a cry after what I had put Elijah through. He’d fought for my life and I’d thrown it away. He’d cut his hand on that potion vial and earned himself a place in permanent hell alongside me, Eric, and Aurora. I’d done this to him. It was my fault. I’d gone willingly, but he’d followed unwittingly.
As I approached the waiting room, I heard Eric’s voice rise in anger. I hung back, eavesdropping at the corner.
“Again?” he demanded. “The GPS is supposed to be for emergencies.”
“My son lying to me is an emergency!”
I sucked in a sharp breath and peered around the corner, getting a good glimpse of Eric’s mom standing before him, hands clenched with rage. She wore a puffy orange coat, tight jeans, and work boots caked with clay. It looked as if she had raced here from the farm.
Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His hands brushed through his hair and linked at the back of his neck as he growled a sigh with every inch of his body. “I’m twenty-two years old. I don’t need to tell you everything.”
“You’re old enough to know better than to lie to me. Why is it that every time you disappear, I find you in a hospital? What happened?” she demanded.
Eric caved, elbows lowering to his knees. “Amelia fell,” he told her.
“Not just now. What’s been happening? You’ve been hiding things and lying for the past three years, and I am sick of it!”
He rubbed his forehead with his hands. Suddenly, his mother’s eyes leapt to mine, fierce and frightening. I shrank back the moment I was caught, heart pounding in my chest. Eric followed her glance to me, his expression and posture broken.
I sheepishly emerged from my hiding place, keeping my chin angled low and shoulders hunched. Despite my efforts, Valarie noticed my neck and jaw bruises instantly. Horror flooded her eyes, and she faced Eric again.
“I’d hoped that you would tell me when you were ready, but clearly things have gone too far. Tell me, Eric. Right now. What is going on? Did you hurt her?” she demanded, her words sharp and deliberate.
“No,” he said, a muffled choke of an answer to the floor. “Not this time,” he added softly.
I sucked in a sharp breath, heart staggering out of beat. What was he doing?
“Tell me what happened,” she pressed.
He shook his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I’ve been struggling to handle something that I barely understand,” he admitted. My heart fumbled. “I’m not who you think I am. You always told me that I’m not like those other Erics, that I don’t share their curse, but you’re wrong.”
“Eric,” I warned. He glanced back at me, and I shook my head gravely. He frowned bitterly, avoiding my eyes. I could see it in his face. He was caving in, breaking down. Any second, our secrets might become known. I couldn’t let him tell. “Don’t, Eric.”
“Cassandra, look what happened to you,” he argued. “And to Amelia and Todd. We can’t handle this. I can’t hold it in anymore.”
“Please,” I begged quietly. “Don’t-”
He closed his eyes. “It’s me,” he stated firmly. He lifted his head to stare up at his mom. His face was hard as stone, expression bitter. My heart thudded hard in my chest, sending a wave of shocked numbness crashing through my body. “It’s true. The stories. The curse. I’m them. I’m Eric Marwick. I killed Cassandra Marwick. I killed our baby. I’m Eric Kirpatrick. I tried to kill Aurora Bacster, I did kill Cassandra Whitenburg, and I’m the reason that Rose McLeary died. I killed Sandy Adams.”
“Eric!” I screeched. No, no, no. This could not be happening. I’d never see him again.
Eric ignored me and stood, intent on continuing with his heated confession. Though his mother was tall, he towered over her, and she looked up at him with wide, panicked eyes.
“I am him, and she is the same Cassandra that has been cursed with loving me,” he declared, pointing at me.
Tears of shock and worry over what was to come flowed down my cheeks in rivers. His mother’s jaw hung open in horror. She backed away a step, grappling for a response to Eric’s confession. He stepped forward, refusing her the space she needed. “I’m a killer,” he growled. “A murderer. And I can’t stop myself, because it isn’t me who chooses to do these things!” he declared.
That statement snapped her to attention. Her head jerked, her eyes filled with intent. “Who does?” she demanded. Anger rose up from within her, pulling at her words. “Who commands you?”
His mouth struggled with the name on the tip of his tongue, as if it were impossible to admit. “Aurora,” he finally said.
Looking like she’d been washed out by a storm, his mom sank weakly into a chair, pale with shock. Her fingers covered her mouth. The flimsy chair rattled beneath her, metal legs unsteady on the solid floor.
“She controlled my mind, my thoughts, and my feelings. I’m cursed, mom. Spelled by a witch,” he told her.
Her head fell to her hands. She rubbed her eyes, and her hands scrubbed down her face, covering her horror. Blonde hair spilled across her face like a veil as she stared, mortified, at the floor. Sadness replaced her anger, and I thought for a moment she might cry.
Oh my God. It was worse than I thought. She wasn’t going to pressure him to stay away from me. No. He was going to wind up in the mental hospital right next to Aurora. This was worse than losing him. I’d see him again for sure. He’d be the face I stared at as I died.
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” I interjected. Eric shot me a look, but I continued anyway. “He’s overtired. He’s high,” I lied. “We’re not cursed. There’s no such thing as witches.”
“Cassandra,” he said like a warning.
“Tell her you’re lying,” I demanded. “Tell her it’s a joke. You’re making it up.” He shook his head. “Do it!”
Valarie held her hand out in a motion to silence me. She shook her head wearily, forehead pressed against her palm. “It’s alright, Cassandra. I believe him.”
“You do?” I gasped.
She slowly eased back into her chair. Her fingers raked through her hair, smoothing it back from her face, and she exhaled a shaky breath. Her nose and eyes were lined with red, and she nodded wearily. “Yes. I know that curses are real. And so are witches. I know because… I’m one.”
My jaw unhinged. Her words stunned me into silence. I was a split second away from snapping at Eric for hiding this from me when I noticed the sick look of shock and betrayal on his face. That was when the fear set in.
I took a step back from her, followed by another. Eric noticed my recoil. His disappointed glance shifted to me, expecting me to bolt. That’s exactly what my legs wanted to do, but his eyes begged me to stay. I barely managed to withhold the urge to flee, weakly standing my ground. My toes felt tight in my shoes, pleading with me to run.
“We need to go someplace private, and then you two are going to tell me everything,” Valarie stated.
We followed her to the overflow parking. Eric’s face was flushed a deep red, and he kept shooting me apologetic glances, but I couldn’t
even look at him. I just focused on the scuffed heels of his mom’s boots crushing rock salt littered over the pavement as she led the way to her truck. It was a beat-up old Ford pickup with a towing hitch in the back and a scraped-up pull bar in the front. She opened the back passenger’s side door. “Get in,” she told me.
I eyed the cramped back seat warily. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get in a car with a witch. At my hesitation, Eric stepped toward me, but she stopped him with her arm. “She’s getting back there, and you’re sitting up front. I want to make sure I’m getting the real story, not the version she wants you to tell,” she said sternly.
Well, that was just insulting. I shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t the first time a witch had insulted me. Not even the hundredth.
I haughtily climbed onto the narrow back seat. At least from there I had a chance to escape if I needed to. She could never reach me back here. My nose scrunched at the smell of manure that spiced up her truck. Stray bits of dirt-caked straw crunched under my feet. I pushed aside half-eaten bags of chips and random half-empty beverage bottles. I had thought Eric was messy for having a few gas station receipts on the floor of his car, but this was ridiculous. This was like Todd’s car before he became obsessed with working on it all the time.
Eric got in the seat in front of me and when his door closed, he turned around to face me. “I’m sorry,” he said.
I crossed my arms and looked out the window, acting like the child his mother was treating me as.
“Cassandra-”
“Did you remember?” I accused. “All this time?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The car accident!” I snapped. “You called Tony Elijah. You asked about me.”
“Car accident?” he asked, in confusion.
“I saw it in your mind. You were trapped in Tony’s car.”
He slowly shook his head. “I don’t remember the accident. Tony told me about it after,” he explained. “I remember lights and a weird grinding sound. He told me later that they cut the car from me. But… I swear. I have no idea what you’re talking about. The only memory I had of our past was of your death, and it was just a nightmare to me.”
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