by Teresa Roman
“What did the letters say?”
“That I was a sinner and an abomination. That I deserved to die, and if I knew what was good for me, I should leave Beaver Falls and never come back. Things like that.”
I shook my head. “That’s awful.” It made me sick to my stomach that people treated each other like that.
“It was hard,” Delilah said. “Everyone I bumped into, I kept wondering if it was them. It made it impossible to talk to people.”
Lisa reached for my aunt’s hand. “That was a long time ago. Thankfully we didn’t let their hate ruin our happiness.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
Lisa took a bite of her brownie. “This is heavenly.” She lifted her gaze from the plate. “Dee bakes the most sinful desserts. I keep trying to convince her to open up her own bakery.”
“Why don’t you?”
“I can’t handle the stress of owning my own business. And I’m happy with my job at Azalea’s. Or at least, I was.”
“Azalea’s is a local café,” Lisa explained. “Or should I say was? Dee was their pastry chef up until a few weeks ago when they closed for good.”
“Oh no. That sucks.”
“Yeah. It does,” Delilah said with a sigh.
“Something else will come up, Dee,” Lisa said. “Something amazing. You’ll see.”
Delilah smiled, buoyed by her wife’s encouraging words. There was such warmth between the two of them. They looked happy together and in love. It made me think of Nicolai. The knife in my heart twisted, and I had to stop myself from grimacing.
“Is everything okay?” Delilah asked.
I managed a smile. “Yeah. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“I can brew some coffee if you like.”
I shook my head. “No thanks. If I drink coffee now, I’ll be up all night.” I rested my fork on the edge of my plate. “Do you mind if I get ready for bed?”
“Not at all.” Delilah stood. “Let me get you settled in the guest room. Come.”
I followed her to an empty bedroom on the second floor. It was a nice-enough room, but it wasn’t the one I wanted to be in. I wanted to be in the attic surrounded by all of Delilah’s magic books, potions, and charms. It sounded crazy, but it seemed like that room was calling out to me.
“Let me know if you need anything.” Delilah turned to leave.
“Um, Delilah.” I felt awkward asking. Family or not, Delilah was practically a stranger, and here I was making demands, but I wanted to be—no, I had to be— in that attic. “I was sort of hoping I could take the bed in the attic.”
Delilah frowned. “This room is bigger and much less cluttered.”
“Clutter doesn’t bother me.”
“It’s not really a guest room.”
“But it’s got a bed in it.”
My aunt seemed hesitant, but after a moment she replied, “Okay. If you insist. I’ll show you the way.”
She didn’t have to. I remembered how to get there, but I didn’t tell Delilah that. Instead, I followed her back down the hallway and up the flight of stairs that led to the attic.
“Are you really sure this is where you want to sleep? You’ll have to go back downstairs to use the bathroom. There isn’t one up here.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Then I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” Delilah leaned in to give me a cheek kiss.
A sense of excitement came over me as she walked away and closed the door behind her. I thought back to the time when I was still a kid and my dad used to take me to the fair and let me ride the roller coaster over and over again. That was how I felt now. I crossed the room and stared at the books on the shelf. My fingertips passed over the spines of the old leather-bound volumes, finally settling on one that I pulled out and opened. The spells in it were all handwritten. Maybe by one of my ancestors. I’d have to ask Delilah about that in the morning.
Hungrily, I skimmed through the pages. Searching for what, I wasn’t exactly sure. Suddenly, the book took on a life of its own. The pages flipped before landing on one titled “For a Broken Heart.” I read on. It was a spell meant to numb a person’s feelings, to take away the pain of losing someone. This was exactly what I needed. There was one problem, though. I could cast the spell on someone else but not on myself.
I took the book with me to a chair and sat down. I kept reading, hopeful that maybe I’d find some other way to rid my mind of the almost-unrelenting thoughts I had of Nicolai. The voice in my head returned. The one I’d been arguing with ever since I’d made up my mind to leave Beaver Falls. Go back to Nicolai. You love him, and he loves you. You belong together.
I did love Nicolai, which was why I was so determined not to ruin his life. I wouldn’t pit brother against brother, packmate against packmate. I wouldn’t put him in a position where he’d have to make an impossible choice between his family and me. But if there was a way to stop the pain that came with the sacrifice I’d made, I wanted to take it. An idea came to me. Delilah was a witch. All I had to do was convince her to help me. Not now, though. It was late, and I had a feeling Delilah might not agree. I had to find a way to get her to understand first.
I searched through more books, eager to absorb as much knowledge as I could, and pored over passages on the history of my family—the Blackwoods. They’d sailed from England hundreds of years ago to escape persecution. Back then, witches were considered evil and worshippers of the devil. They were rounded up, imprisoned, tortured, and later killed. That was why my ancestors fled to the New World. Beaver Falls, the small town I’d grown up in, was founded by witches as a safe haven, a place where one could practice magic without fear.
Beaver Falls had changed a lot since that time. More and more nonwitch families began to settle into the area. People married into those families, diluting their bloodlines. Witches became more careful of practicing their craft in the open, worried that the troubles they had endured in Europe would follow them to America. Some moved away, like Delilah. Others just hadn’t been taught much about magic. How many practicing witches were actually left in Beaver Falls was a mystery.
It doesn’t matter. You’re not going back. Never going back. Can’t go back. I pushed those thoughts out of my head and reached for another book. The more I read, the less I felt. Thoughts of Nicolai never left. The image of him was still burned in my mind, but it faded bit by bit into the background as I feverishly turned pages. I burned with a desire to learn. I had no idea how much time was passing. There was no clock in the room. Eventually, my eyelids grew heavy. I hadn’t yet taken a shower, brushed my teeth, or changed into pajamas. But I couldn’t bring myself to stop what I was doing. When I reached the point where I could barely keep my eyes open anymore, I sat down and rested my head on the worktable in the room, vowing I’d only take a short nap.
The next thing I felt was a hand on my shoulder, startling me out of my sleep.
Chapter 9
Nicolai
We’d barely gotten on the highway when my phone rang with a call from Frederic. I didn’t answer. A minute later, Alexander called, then Maxim. I continued to ignore my brothers, but then Maria’s phone chimed.
“Don’t pick up.” I wasn’t planning on telling them we’d left to search for Willow until Maria and I had gotten farther out of town. That way they’d realize it was too late to try and talk me out of looking for her.
“What if it’s important?” Maria pressed the answer button and said, “Hello?”
Thanks to Bluetooth, Alexander’s voice boomed through the car’s speakers. “Are you with Nicolai?”
“Yes,” Maria replied.
“The two of you need to get back here now.”
“No,” I said. “Maria and I left to find Willow. We’re already on the highway. There’s no way we’re turning back.”
“The police are here,” Alexander said in a loud whisper. “They’re asking questions about Peter. We need Maria to help us smooth things over.”
&
nbsp; I cursed under my breath and pounded the steering wheel with my fist. I’d been worried that eventually the police would pay us a visit. Getting them off our backs would be easy enough for Maria, but I resented the delay it would cause.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Maria said. “But as soon as I handle the police, Nicolai and I will be back on our way. Understand?”
“I won’t try to stop you. I swear.”
A part of me wanted to tell Maria to leave my brothers hanging. The police wouldn’t find anything. I’d made sure to get rid of all traces of Peter from the castle. But the last thing my family needed was humans sniffing around. Though they never admitted it to me, my brothers did not enjoy hosting weekly dinner parties at the castle. The only reason they did was because they were desperate to find someone who could break my curse. We stayed to ourselves for a reason. None of us wanted anyone in Beaver Falls to suspect that we were not like them.
I got off at the next exit and drove back to the castle. Alexander met us on our way inside. He had a pinched look on his face. “The police are in the drawing room, waiting to speak to you.”
“Don’t look so worried,” Maria said in a hushed voice. “I’ll make this all go away.”
“Good. Because we don’t need this kind of trouble,” Alexander replied.
As Maria and I walked into the drawing room, the two officers stood, arching their shoulders and puffing out their chests to show us that they were the ones in charge. The taller one—C. Wallace, according to the name tag pinned to this shirt—spoke first. “We’re here because we have some questions about a missing person. Peter Anderson. His mother is very concerned. She hasn’t heard from him in days, and for some reason, she’s convinced you and your brothers are involved.”
Peter had a mother? Of course he did. Everyone had a mother. “Well, I’m very sorry that she’s so worried, but none of us know anything about Peter’s whereabouts,” I said.
“You do know him, though?” the other officer said. “Correct?”
“‘Know’ isn’t really the right word,” I replied. “We met briefly. Peter showed up here one night looking for someone.”
“Does that someone have a name?” Officer Wallace asked.
“Willow Duncan,” I replied hesitantly.
“Right. Willow was dating him until you came along. Peter got upset and came here looking for her. What I’d like to know is what happened after that? Did you and Peter have a physical altercation?” Officer Wallace pressed.
Beaver Falls really was a small town. Or maybe the officers knew about Willow and Peter because his supposed mother had told them. I glanced at Maria, beginning to wonder when she’d finally put an end to all the questions. “No. I told him to leave, and after a bit of verbal back-and-forth, he did. End of story.”
“We stopped by Willow’s house earlier, but she wasn’t home. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”
“She is none of your concern,” Maria said in a breathy voice. Her eyes narrowed as she focused her gaze on the two officers standing in front of us. “Neither is Peter. Because he left town. He didn’t particularly like it here. But Peter is perfectly healthy and perfectly fine. Tell his mother that the police have no reason to suspect foul play. Now that you’ve asked your questions, it’s time for the both of you to leave.”
“Ahem.” The shorter officer cleared his throat and looked at his partner. “It’s time for us to leave.”
“Of course,” Officer Wallace replied. He glanced at my brothers before turning his gaze back to me and Maria. “I’m very sorry for bothering you fine folks.”
Maria smiled. “We’re always more than happy to help the Beaver Falls Police Department any way we can.”
The officers walked out of the room without another word.
I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding in. “It’s crazy that you can do that.”
“There were only two of them, so it wasn’t that difficult,” Maria said. Yet when I turned to leave, she didn’t follow. I looked over my shoulder to find that she had taken a seat on the couch. Her hands trembled. Despite her outward appearance, Maria was far older than she looked. She had never told us exactly how old she was, but I was relatively certain she was over a hundred. Sometimes, using magic took the wind out of her sails.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “I just need a minute, that’s all.”
I wanted to tell her that we didn’t have a minute. Willow had left Beaver Falls days ago. Like a fool, I’d waited, too afraid of making the wrong choice, before finally deciding that I had to find her. Not only did I need to tell her about Grace, but I had to warn her that the police had come asking questions. Maria had thrown them off our trail, but what they’d said had me more concerned than ever. Who was this mother of Peter’s that the police had spoken of? Was she the succubus that had attacked Maxim? Could she have had something to do with Grace’s death? If so, would she come after Willow next? The awful feeling that had settled in the pit of my stomach grew by the second. I needed to find Willow as soon as possible. But I couldn’t leave without Maria. Werewolves had certain powers—strength, speed, heightened senses—but I couldn’t do the things Maria could.
“Shall I get you something to drink?”
Maria’s eyelids fluttered and then shut for a moment before opening again. She didn’t answer.
“Maria?”
Silence.
I stood there watching and waiting, not sure what else to do. A minute or two later, she got on her feet. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
It wasn’t until we made our way back to the highway that Maria got her color back, though her expression remained stern.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’m worried that they’ll return. The police. Whoever alerted them to Peter’s disappearance won’t be satisfied with the answers those officers will give them.”
“Do you think it really was Peter’s mother?”
“I can think of no reason why some woman would go around claiming to be his mother if she wasn’t,” Maria replied. “She must’ve been the same female who helped Peter gain entry into the castle the night he tried to take Willow.”
“I was thinking the exact same thing,” I said.
“Once she realizes that the police can’t help her find her son, she’ll take matters into her own hands. Perhaps she already has.”
“Are you talking about Grace?”
“What if she went to Grace’s house looking for answers?” Maria asked.
We both knew what that meant. Peter’s mother was a succubus. By feeding on Grace’s soul, she would have found the answers she wanted, but in doing so, had left Grace for dead. Then, to cover her tracks, the succubus had slit Grace’s wrists. “What if she managed to learn where Willow is?”
“Grace claimed she didn’t know. Let’s just hope she was telling the truth.”
We drove in silence. After a while Maria put her hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find her. I’m certain of it.”
I responded with a nod.
“When we do, have you thought about what you’ll say to her?” Maria asked.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “No.”
In truth, I had no idea what would happen when I came face-to-face with Willow again. I only knew what I wanted to happen. I pictured it in my head. Willow in my arms, her lips on mine. Me down on one knee as I pleaded for her to become my wife. My princess. I shook my head. She’d think I was crazy. We’d only known each other for a few weeks. For me, that had been long enough to realize that she was the only woman I’d ever want. She didn’t know that I’d planned on asking her to come with me when my brothers and I returned to Sarabia. Willow would love it there. Not just because my country was beautiful but because she’d live like a queen. I’d make sure she never wanted for anything.
That was all a dream, though. A stupid, silly dream. The loss filled me, practically taking my breath aw
ay. I willed myself to focus, to remember what was important. By shielding me from Peter’s silver dagger, Willow had not only saved my life, she’d broken my curse. I owed her a great debt. So whether Willow wanted me to come for her or not, I wouldn’t stop searching for her until I knew that she would be safe. And I had to tell her about Grace. The image of her lifeless body covered in blood flashed in my mind. It was a good thing Willow hadn’t been the one to find her friend like that. Thinking about it sent a shudder down my spine.
“Are you all right?” Maria asked.
I shook my head. “No. And I won’t be until I know Willow is safe.”
Chapter 10
Willow
I lifted my head from the table and turned it from side to side, easing the kinks out of my neck and looking around the room at the same time. For a moment, I was disoriented by my unfamiliar surroundings, but then everything came back to me.
“What time is it?” I asked my aunt who stood behind me with a concerned look on her face.
“Almost ten.”
“In the morning?”
Delilah nodded.
The room was so dark that it was impossible to tell that the sun had risen. I liked that. The idea of not keeping track of time as it passed appealed to me.
“I’ve got breakfast waiting downstairs.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m not very hungry.”
Delilah’s face wore the same strange expression as last night after I told her I wanted to sleep in here. She glanced around the room. The books I’d been reading lay scattered on the floor beside me and across the table. Delilah picked one up. “You need to eat, honey. Can you please just try a few bites?”
I would’ve told her again that I wasn’t hungry, but I had a feeling she would keep insisting.
“Okay. Let me just wash my face first.”
“I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”