by Karen Lynch
“Hmm, you’re probably right.”
“I’ll figure something out. Maybe I can show him an imp. Our place is full of them.”
“Probably not a good idea to tell him he has a demon infestation,” Roland pointed out dryly. “Especially with you leaving.”
This was going to be even harder than I’d thought. There was not going to be an easy way to break any of this to Nate, but I needed to show him something or he’d never believe me. “I need a way to show him proof without scaring the hell out of him.”
“Okay, so no close encounters,” Roland thought out loud. “Maybe a picture of something… or a video.”
“You mean like a video of an imp?” Unless you got close enough to see their very sharp teeth, they looked pretty harmless. “How will he know it’s not a fake? It has to be something he can’t refute.”
Peter’s face lit up. “I have an idea. Give me your phone.”
Chapter 19
“Please say something.”
Nate stared blankly at his hands clasped in front of him on the kitchen table. He had been sitting like that for the last five minutes.
My chest tightened. All day I had tried to prepare myself to talk to him while dreading his reaction. My worst fears had come to pass. He wouldn’t even look at me.
His face lifted, and his troubled eyes met mine. “What do you want me to say? When you said you had to talk to me, I was worried you’d been suspended or something. Instead, you tell me this crazy story. If I didn’t know you better, I’d ask if you were on something.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in.”
He let out a strangled laugh. “Just a bit.”
I wanted to reach across the table and take his hand, but I was afraid of his reaction. Anxiety and fear twisted my gut in knots. Nate was the only family I had; I couldn’t bear it if he pulled away from me now.
There had been no easy way to come clean to him so I’d just dived in head first, fumbling my way through the story that grew more fantastic by the minute. How did you tell someone you loved that nothing in their world was as it seemed and that they were surrounded by a whole other world of magic and people and creatures that should not exist?
Nate had listened quietly while I told him I’d always believed there was more to my dad’s death than the authorities had said. His eyes had grown wide when I explained how I had learned I could heal animals when I was little. When I’d begun describing how I met Remy and discovered that every mythical creature I’d ever heard of was real, his face had become a mask of disbelief.
Then the real hard part came. Using as little detail as possible, I told him about Eli, Nikolas, and the werewolves and what had been happening for the past month. His tight-lipped expression made my heart ache as I revealed what I’d learned about Madeline and the truth about my dad’s murder. I stopped there because I couldn’t go any further without hearing him say something, anything.
Nate let out a deep breath. “I’d think this was all a big prank if not for… You’d never make up stories about your father.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“I-I don’t know what to think. You have to understand that this would be hard for anyone to believe.”
I nodded, grateful that he was still here talking to me. That was something at least.
He leaned back heavily, and his wheelchair creaked. “You’re not telling me everything,” he said, studying my face.
I swallowed. “I didn’t want to lay too much on you at once.”
“You wanted to see how I’d react?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed his brow and fixed me with the look of a person waiting to hear something they knew would not make them happy. “Tell me.”
I told him about meeting David and everything that happened at the rest stop. He made a sound when I recounted our close escape, but I kept talking, afraid that if I stopped I wouldn’t be able to continue. I told him about Remy and the missing trolls, our trip to Portland, and the rescue. I glossed over the worst of it because I didn’t think he could handle hearing the gory details, especially what I’d done to get the trolls out of the cage. It was asking enough of him to accept what I’d told him already. I finished by telling him about Roland being hurt and how I’d healed him.
He was quiet and still for a long moment, and I feared I’d told him too much, that he was in shock. Finally, he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Jesus! I… Jesus…”
“Are you alright?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. I-I need some time to process this.”
I let out a deflated sigh. It wasn’t like I had expected him to be okay with everything right away, but I’d hoped… well, I don’t know what I’d hoped for. It killed me to see how much I was hurting him. If I had been honest with him all along, he would not be looking at me right now like I was a stranger.
“I have something for you.” I pushed my phone across the table to him. “Peter thought it might help you.”
He stared at the phone without reaching for it. I stood and left the kitchen, almost running upstairs to my room. I stood at the top of the stairs and listened when he played the video Peter had made for him. Then I sat on my bed and waited for him to call me back down to talk about it.
When darkness fell, I climbed into bed and stared numbly at the ceiling until I could no longer keep my eyes open. I didn’t even bother to undress.
* * *
I didn’t get up for school the next day, and Nate did not call for me to get up. It was ten o’clock when I finally dragged myself downstairs, bleary-eyed and feeling like my heart was encased in lead. In all the years I’d lived with Nate, we’d had our share of arguments, but he had never let us start a new day without trying to sort things out.
His silence told me just how much I’d hurt him this time – not because of what I’d revealed to him – but because I’d been lying to him for years. Last night, lying in bed, it hit me just how much pain my confession had brought him. All this time, I’d carried the knowledge that there was more to my dad’s death and all I could think about was how I needed to know the truth for me, for my own closure. Not once had I ever considered Nate’s loss or grief or that he deserved to know the truth about his brother. I had to make things right. There was no way I could leave with things so messed up between us.
I walked into the kitchen, but my stomach was tied in too many knots to even think about eating. Disappointment swept over me when I looked out the window and saw that Nate’s car was gone. I was hoping we could talk this morning, but it looked like he needed more time to sort through things first.
To while away the hours until he returned, I cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. Around eleven the school called, and I let the machine pick up. I paused wiping down the refrigerator when it hit me that I was actually dropping out of school – and in my senior year. I should be thinking about college applications, prom, and graduation – normal things. But nothing in my life would ever be normal again.
My cell phone rang a little while later. It was Nikolas letting me know he and Chris were still in Portland with some of the other Mohiri, cleaning up after Saturday night and hunting down any vampires that got away. The werewolves, he told me, had offered to beef up their patrols in town today to watch over me and Nate until Nikolas got back. He said he would be back in New Hastings tonight so we could leave tomorrow morning. I listened and said “yes” and “no” where I was supposed to. I figured I should wait until he got here to explain that I could not leave town tomorrow, not until I made things right between me and Nate.
At two o’clock, restlessness drove me outside. I sat on the top of the stairs listening to the familiar sounds of the waterfront while I waited for Nate to return. But soon a cold, damp fog crept in off the bay and sent me back into the warmth of the apartment. Gazing out through the living room window at the gray-shrouded waterfront, I felt more alone than I had ever felt before. All I wanted was for Nate to com
e home so I could ask him to please forgive me and tell me I hadn’t destroyed our relationship, that there was still a chance for us to be a family.
Half an hour later, when I couldn’t take another minute of waiting, I heard a sound at the front door. I raced from the living room to greet Nate and to beg him to please talk to me. Halfway to the door I stopped short, my stocking feet skidding on the hardwood floor when I realized I hadn’t heard his car drive up or his wheelchair on the ramp.
The doorknob jiggled, and my heart began to hammer against my ribs. Did I lock the door?
The answer was a soft click. The door creaked open a fraction of an inch, and I stood frozen as whoever or whatever was on the other side prepared to come in.
I jumped as a low keening suddenly came from the door, and it took me a few panicked seconds to realize that the sound came from the door itself and not from whoever was on the other side. The noise grew, rapidly rising in pitch and volume until I had to clap my hands over my ears to block out the piercing sound. Around the door the frame glowed red, throwing off sparks like the embers in a fireplace. In the center of the door the shape of an ashy hand appeared.
Screeching and the nauseating stench of scorched flesh filled the air as someone or something thrashed violently on the other side of the door. Seconds later the door slammed shut followed by the sound of someone stumbling down the stairs.
Freed from my paralysis, I scrambled to pull the deadbolt and ran to the kitchen window. But all I could see was the swirling fog that obscured anything more than a few feet from the building. My whole body shook, and I gripped the counter with numb fingers. Something was out there, something that meant me harm, and if it wasn’t for the troll warding, they would be in here now. The chill creeping along my spine told me it was still out there, hiding in the mist and waiting to try again.
I didn’t have to wait long. A minute later I heard a high-pitched whine downstairs followed by an inhuman howl of pain. I almost knocked over a chair as I bolted from the kitchen like a frightened rabbit. Whatever was out there was determined to get inside. The troll magic was very powerful and it would protect me as long as I stayed inside, but it could do nothing to stop the fear knotting my stomach.
You’re safe. Don’t panic. Nikolas would be here in a few hours. Nothing would hurt me or Nate once he was here.
Nate! What if he came home while that person or thing was outside? He wouldn’t stand a chance.
I tore around the living room, searching for my cell phone. My hands shook while I found the number Nikolas had put in my phone yesterday and listened to it ringing on the other end.
He knew something was wrong before I spoke. “Sara, what is it?”
“Something outside,” I wheezed before I regained my voice. “They’re trying to get in. The ward is holding, but Nate’s not here. If he comes home and…”
My voice broke, and I heard him swear then shout harshly at someone. “We’re coming. Stay right where you are, and do not hang up. I’m going to stay on the phone until we get there. Do you hear me?”
“Maybe I should call Maxwell,” I told him, thinking the Knolls were a lot closer than Portland.
“No, stay on the phone with me,” Nikolas ordered. “Chris is calling them now.”
I heard a muffled sound then an engine starting. Nikolas’s voice sounded a little hollow when he spoke again, and I realized he was using an earpiece inside his helmet. “I’m on my way.”
“Okay,” I said hoarsely, sinking down to sit against the wall farthest from the living room window. I pulled my knees toward me and laid my forehead against them as I prayed silently. Please, please let him get here before Nate does.
The phone in the kitchen rang, and I jerked upright. “What was that?” Nikolas asked.
“The house phone. Maybe it’s Nate,” I said hopefully, scrambling to my feet. I rushed into the kitchen and snatched up the cordless phone with my free hand. Please let it be him.
“Sara Grey?” asked a thickly-accented male voice.
“Yes?”
“I have your uncle.”
My legs started to fold, and I leaned heavily against the cupboard as the cell phone in my other hand clattered loudly to the counter. I could hear Nikolas, shouting but my whole body was riveted to the phone in my hand.
“I will make a trade – him for you,” the man continued in a businesslike manner. “If you care about him, you will do this because I have no qualms about ending his life if I don’t get what I want.”
“I’ll do it,” I cried, gripping the phone so hard my knuckles turned white. “How do I know I can trust you to let him go?”
He laughed coldly. “You do not, but he will die if you do not come to me. I will give you ten minutes. After that his life is forfeit.”
“No! I’ll come.”
“Good girl. Go outside now. Someone is waiting to bring you to me.”
The click on the other end was like a cell door slamming shut. I was trapped. If I didn’t go, Nate would die. If I tried to stall until help got here, Nate would die. If I went, Nate might still die.
No. That is not going to happen, I swore as I laid the phone on the counter. Because I would die before I let anyone hurt him.
“Goddamnit, Sara, answer me!” yelled a furious Nikolas.
My hand was oddly steady when I put the cell phone to my ear again. “I’m sorry, Nikolas. I have to go,” I told him flatly, guessing that he had heard enough of my conversation to know what I was going to do.
“Do not leave that apartment,” he said in a tone that few people would disobey. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Whatever it is, we can take care of it.”
“It’ll be too late.” I was already running upstairs to change. “They have Nate, and they’re going to kill him if I’m not there in ten minutes. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I will not let Nate die because of them.”
“Sara, think about this. They are not going to just let your uncle go once they have you. If you do this, you could die.”
“He’ll die for sure if I don’t go. I’m not going to hide here and do nothing while he’s killed. I couldn’t live with that.” I picked up my coat and knife and went back to the kitchen. “You were right. All I do is put the people I love in danger. It has to stop now.”
He started to say something, but I hung up. I pulled on my coat and tucked the knife in the inside pocket. My cell phone rang, and I knew it was Nikolas without looking at the number. I turned off the phone and stuck it in my back pocket before I let myself out and locked the door behind me.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I stepped outside, but it wasn’t the eerie quiet that greeted me. There was no sign of whatever had tried to get past my wards, except for a few black drops on the landing that looked like burnt blood. I turned away from it, shuddering violently.
The fog was still thick but already starting to lift, allowing me to see a black Escalade with a dented bumper in front of our building. At the bottom of the stairs I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart before I approached the SUV. As I drew near, the door opened and the muscled blond man from the marina got out. He did not speak as he opened the rear door for me. I noticed bloody bandages on his hands, and I held back a smug grin. Is that your blood on my doorstep? I hope it hurts like hell.
I slid into the cool interior, and he returned to the passenger seat up front. I felt someone watching me, and I looked up to see a pair of angry, dark eyes in the rearview mirror. The driver turned his head toward me, and I sucked in a sharp breath when I recognized the man who had attacked me yesterday at the rest stop. Tarek’s face bore the bruises from his fight with Peter, and his eyes told me he was itching for payback. Instead of speaking to me, he muttered something in Arabic to his companion, and they both laughed. I wrapped my arms tightly around me and stared blindly out the window. Part of me wanted to take one last look around, to drink in the picture of the place I had called home for most of my life, but a bigger part did not want to accept
that this was the last time I might ever see it. I was willing to trade my life for Nate’s, but that did not mean I was giving up yet. I’d survived too much these last few weeks to go down without a fight now.
It took us less than five minutes to reach our destination, and I was surprised to find us outside an empty three-storey building with a “For Rent” sign in the window only two streets away from mine. The Escalade parked on the busy street, and the blond man turned to me before he opened his door.
“Do not make a scene if you value your uncle’s life,” he said in halting English.
I nodded, and we got out. He led the way into the building where I had to strain to see through the dimness. Before my eyes could adjust, he took my arm. “Haism is waiting for you,” he said, leading me toward a lit doorway at the back of the building.
“Nate!” I cried as soon as I saw him in his wheelchair beside a large metal desk. I broke away from the blond man and ran to kneel in front of Nate. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m okay.” He held me away from him and gave me a searching look. “Sara, what is going on? How do you know Mr. Bakr?” he asked in a lowered voice.
“Mr. Bakr?”
“Haism Bakr,” said a familiar voice with a crisp Middle Eastern accent. I straightened and faced the hawk-nosed man I’d seen on the monstrous yacht at the marina. He was sitting behind the desk with his hands clasped in front of him and a scowl on his face. His dark eyes glittered with rancor as they swept over me. “My employer is very displeased with you, Miss Grey.”
“You work for that sheik.” I could not keep the disgust out of my voice.
His scowl deepened. “You have robbed him of something he went through great trouble to obtain,” he growled.
My hackles rose. “That something was little children.”
“Those creatures are not children,” Haism spat. “The sheik is a powerful and important man. What are the lives of those things compared to his?”