by L. Danvers
Aiden’s gaze flickered, and all at once, the pieces started coming together. Infiltrating the Albright compound. Fighting off witches. His strong hold.
No. No, he couldn’t have... Not after everything he’d built with Victoria.
“Aiden?” I pressed.
But his deep blue eyes were locked in on Uncle Ben’s bleeding wrist—confirming then and there just how far my brother had gone to save me.
Grace
“You’re at the hospital?” My throat suddenly felt dry. I scrambled over to the nearest sidewalk bench and planted myself on it. My arms trembled despite my jacket as my mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” he answered, even though he clearly wasn’t.
“I’m coming to see you. What’s your room number?”
“I’m in Room 256,” he said.
“Does Madison know?”
“Yeah,” he confessed. “It happened last night.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll explain when you get here. But yeah, the Kents were with me all night. They just left. Madison called out of work. She didn’t get much sleep.” I wished she had texted me so that I wouldn’t worry, but it made sense that her focus had been on Bellamy, not me.
“Okay,” I said, mind reeling. “Try to get some rest. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
I ended the call and stood up, looking around frantically for a cab. My apartment wasn’t that far from the restaurant, so I had walked to work. But the hospital was miles away, and I needed to get there fast. I spun around slowly, pressing my palm to my forehead as I thought. Icy raindrops slid down my cheeks, causing me to shiver.
“Grace?” a familiar, sweet voice called out. “Are you alright, dear?” It was Mrs. Johnson, the widow who frequented the Sunny Side Grille. She stood there with a black umbrella clutching her purse with her other hand. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I realized then how rapid and shallow my breaths had become. I tried to calm myself. Hugging my arms across my waist, I answered, “I’m fine. It’s my friend. I just found out he’s in the hospital.”
“Do you need a ride, dear?”
I chewed my lip. “Oh, you don’t have to give me a ride. I can catch a cab.”
Mrs. Johnson dragged her gaze along the street, calling attention to the fact that there were no cabs in sight. “I’m afraid you’ll be waiting a while then.” She jerked her head in the direction of her car, which was parked in its usual spot in front of the restaurant. “Come on. I’ll be happy to take you.”
Deciding to accept her help rather than waste time by not wanting to put her out, I eagerly nodded. “Thank you so much.”
Mrs. Johnson fished her keys out of her light pink purse and motioned toward the vehicle. I quickly climbed into the passenger seat.
My stomach was in knots the whole way there. And hitting every single red light along the way didn’t help. I pressed my head against the window, staring out blankly at the shops and businesses we passed along the way. Thunderclouds rolled across the sky, casting us in their shadows. Seconds later, an onslaught of rain pounded against the car.
“What happened to your friend, if you don’t mind me asking?” Mrs. Johnson asked. I think she sensed that my thoughts were spiraling out of control, and she was trying to snap me out of it by making conversation.
“I’m not sure,” I confessed. “All he told me was that he was in the hospital and he would explain everything when I got there.”
“He, huh?” she asked, and when I glanced over my shoulder at her I noticed her mouth had pursed into a knowing smile. “Would this be your boyfriend?”
I shook my head. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t know what we are exactly.” I didn’t know why I was so worked up. He was obviously okay—after all, he’d been the one who’d called me. I think, when it came down to it, that with a big chunk of my memories missing, I’d felt so alone in the world. And somehow with Bellamy I felt like I belonged. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that whatever was going on between us was serious or something that would last forever. But for a while now, I’d been living my life on autopilot, wanting so badly to piece together the fragments of my past, yet somehow not actually making the effort to do it. It was like I was living someone else’s life. But even if what Bellamy and I had wasn’t forever, it was real. And it made me feel alive.
The thought of that being ripped from me tore me to shreds.
Distracted by our conversation, Mrs. Johnson didn’t realize the upcoming light had turned red. And neither had I until it was too late.
She slammed on the breaks, but thanks to the rain, the car began to skid across the intersection. All at once, time around me slowed. A red truck was heading right toward the passenger side of the car. My hands flew out in response. As if by magic, the truck veered around us at the last second, and Mrs. Johnson steered us back into the proper lane unscathed.
She released a breath, and I noticed her lower lip was quivering. She blinked, clearly in shock. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
“It’s okay,” I answered, trying to sound more reassuring than I felt. I took a deep breath, too. “Everything’s okay.”
We spent the rest of the ride in silence until she pulled up and parked in the circular driveway in front of the hospital.
“Would you like me to come in?” she offered.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride, though.”
She dipped her head in acknowledgment, and I shut the door, not wasting a second to watch her drive away. I ran for the door, my sneakers sloshing in the large puddles with each stride. I pushed my drenched hair away from my face as I entered through the automatic doors.
The elevator was out of order, so I had to take the stairs. I was out of breath by the time I reached Room 256—more because of the sheer panic blossoming in my chest than the climb. I took a split-second to compose myself before deciding that trying to do so was utterly useless. My hair was a mess, my pink waitress outfit was soaked to the point of looking like it was painted to my body and I knew without a doubt that I had mascara all over my cheeks.
None of that mattered.
Eager to see Bellamy, to see for myself that he was okay, I opened the door. “Bellamy?” I called out.
Bellamy sat up in his bed, wincing as he adjusted himself. I rushed to his side, holding his face in my hands. Our eyes locked, and I leaned in and kissed him gently. I rested my forehead on his and let out a breath. “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” I whispered. I sat on the edge of his bed now and took his strong hand in mine. “Please, tell me everything.”
Wincing as he did so, he readjusted himself so that he was sitting higher. He pulled his arm out of his hospital gown, allowing the thin fabric to fall and reveal his chest. Across his abdomen was a massive square of multiple layers of gauze. The gauze was saturated with blood.
I let out a gasp, and my fingers reached toward the injury—though I didn’t dare touch it. Lifting my gaze, I locked in on his hazel eyes. “What happened to you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it. Last night, Nathaniel and I had closed up the bar and were going to head home—but he was all riled up after a rough night of work and wanted to blow off some steam. He needed to vent, so we decided to walk a couple of laps around the park. And then...” His voice trailed off like he didn’t know what to say next.
“Then?”
His throat bobbed as he recalled the events of last night. “We were attacked.”
“Attacked? What happened?”
His eyes glossed over like he was lost in a memory. “I don’t know exactly. I was talking, and I thought Nathaniel was right there beside me. But when I looked over at where he should have been, I realized he was gone. When I turned around, I saw him face-down on the ground. And the next thing I knew, there was this burning sensation in my side. The back of my head hit the sidewalk, and then I woke up here
.”
I placed my hand on top of his and squeezed it. “And you don’t know who did this to you?”
“I never saw the guy,” he said with a tinge of both sadness and anger in his voice. “The police think it was a mugger, but the weird thing was that nothing was taken.”
“That’s really strange,” I said, trying to process this. “So, what did the mugger attack you with?”
“I have no idea. The doctor said it looked like a really deep cut or scratch.”
I frowned, not knowing what to say. Eventually, I trailed my thumb along the back of his hand. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said. He smiled at that. Wanting to lighten the mood, I added, “I had a great time with you at the party, by the way. Thanks again for taking me.”
“I had a great time, too. And I’m sorry I didn’t text you back sooner. We were slammed at work, and then...”
I playfully rolled my eyes. “I guess getting attacked is a reasonable excuse.”
“You know,” he said, brushing his curly brown hair away from his face, “I was worried you wouldn’t want to see me.”
“Why?”
“I thought maybe you’d thought I’d ignored you and you wouldn’t give me a second chance.”
“That’s silly.”
He chuckled, which caused him to wince and reach for his wound. With a sigh, he added, “I’m glad you think so. Because I—” A knock at the door interrupted him. “Come in!” Bellamy called out.
The nurse flew through the door, medicine and a cup of water in tow. “Time for your painkillers,” she reminded him. He tossed them back in his throat and chased them down with the water. “Get some rest, okay?”
He nodded and waited to speak until he heard the door click shut behind her. “Anyway,” he carried on, “I was trying to say that I like you, Grace.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I knew they had turned bright red. “I like you, too.”
“I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I’d really like to keep getting to know you. And if anything, this,” he said, gesturing toward his injury, “was a reminder of how short life is. I hope this doesn’t sound too bold of me, but I’d love it if you’d be my girlfriend.”
I paused for a moment, processing what he’d just asked. “Are you sure those aren’t the painkillers talking?”
He smiled. “I’m sure.”
I leaned forward and kissed him. “Good. And for what it’s worth, I happen to like bold.”
He broke away from the kiss and asked, “Is that a yes?”
I covered my mouth with my hand as I laughed. “Yes.”
He scooted over to the side of the hospital bed and motioned an invitation for me to lie down beside him on his uninjured side. Carefully, I did as he asked, nuzzling my head against his shoulder. “It’s amazing how in less than twelve hours I’ve managed to have both the worst and best day ever,” he said to himself as he drifted off to sleep, smiling.
I rested there beside him delighting in the warm fuzzy feeling of belonging. I may not know who I had been in recent years, but I knew who I was now.
I tried to stay awake, but eventually, the lack of sleep got the better of me. I dozed off—only to startle awake at one of my nightmares. Gasping out of instinct, I clutched my chest as my eyes popped open.
Bellamy jolted awake, too. He moaned as he turned to face me. “What was that about?”
How could I begin to explain that I had recurring dreams about murdering someone? “Nightmares,” I answered vaguely as I sat upright, drawing my knees in close.
“Do you get those a lot?”
I chewed my lip and shook my head. “Every single night. The same one over and over, playing on repeat.”
“That sucks. What’s it about?”
I looked away. “I’d rather not say.”
“Keeping secrets, are we?” he chuckled innocently. “Should I be worried?”
“No, no. Definitely not. It’s just... sometimes I feel like I’m living someone else’s life. And the nightmares feel so real. More like I’m reliving a memory.”
His left eyebrow arched. “Well, are you?”
“No way.” I rested my chin on my knee. “At least, I hope not.”
“Um, wouldn’t you know if it was one of your memories?”
I stopped short of being honest with him. I wanted to tell him about the memory gaps, but things were so perfect right now. I didn’t want to risk ruining that. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
Xander
“What if she never wants to see me again?” I groaned, burying my fingers into my dark hair as I sat hunched over on Uncle Ben’s couch. My nails dug into my scalp.
“You had a fight,” Uncle Ben pointed out from the kitchen as he mixed a drink for me—as if that would help. “Friends fight. And then they forgive each other.”
I shook my head. He didn’t understand. This was more than just a fight between friends. It was deeper than that. And now, I feared I’d lost her forever.
I’d never wanted to hurt her.
But I couldn’t wrap my head around why she hadn’t come back for me. Why she hadn’t gone after the Albrights. She’d seen Sofia attack me. She knew it was her. And even if I could justify her ditching me completely, why hadn’t she returned to Quarter Square?
Uncle Ben offered me a martini—extra dirty—and I downed it in one giant gulp. He towered over me, frowning. “She forgave this guy,” he said, gesturing toward Aiden. “She’ll forgive you, too.”
Aiden nodded along in agreement.
“Part of me wants to track her down,” I confessed, “and the other part of me wants to let her walk away. Maybe I was too harsh with her.”
“Xander—” Aiden started.
“You weren’t there!” I growled, not meaning to take my anger out on him, but unleashing it anyway. I stood, pacing now across the living room. “Someone got to Isla, the witch we were tracking down, first. Which meant our final lead turned out to be a dead end. Which meant...” I let out a breath, knowing they knew the rest.
“Even if you went too far,” Uncle Ben said, cautiously stepping closer to me, “it’s Grace we’re talking about. She would never have abandoned you knowing you were in trouble.”
Aiden shifted in his seat. “Did you overhear the witches saying anything about her?”
“No,” I barked. Then I thought on it for a moment. I vaguely remembered something Evangeline had said to me... I closed my eyes, thinking, trying to replay the moment like a movie in my mind’s eye. “One of the witches said Grace wasn’t coming back for me—and that Sofia had seen to that.” They exchanged uneasy glances at that. “But she also said Grace was fine.”
Uncle Ben crossed his arms, his brow wrinkling. “That doesn’t make any sense. What could that mean?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Aiden said, standing now, too. “The Albrights can’t be trusted. We need to find her, and when we do, she can explain everything herself.”
I briefly considered objecting. What if Grace had decided to give up on this futile hunt and start over somewhere else—far away from me and my siblings and everything that reminded her of Crescent Cape? And yet... I couldn’t let her walk out of my life without knowing why.
Why had she given up on me? Why had she abandoned me when I needed her the most?
“I’ll get my witch friend to do another tracking spell. This time, we’ll need something of Grace’s.”
I planted my hands on my hips, scanning the room for anything she might have left here. I guessed we’d have to break into her old apartment...
“Would that work?” Uncle Ben asked, gesturing toward me.
Realizing what he was referring to, I glanced down at the bracelet on my wrist and instinctively ran my fingers across it. It was the Bracelet of Wynstar—a woven cord made of dark unicorn hair with a gold pendant in the center. Grace had infused it with her magic when I was under Reed Carlisle’s control years ago. Her father had cursed me, forcing me to attack Danielle.
And, naturally, Grace wasn’t about to let that happen. When she finally got the bracelet on me and said her little enchantment, it rendered me powerless to fulfill the orders I’d been forced to carry out—effectively nullifying Reed’s curse. Now that he was dead and Danielle was nowhere to be found, I probably could have taken it off. Well, I couldn’t. Only another person could remove it. But I’d never thought to ask her to, and she’d never offered. Most of the time, I forgot it was even there.
I stared down at the gold pendant, mindlessly trailing my thumb along the engraving that had appeared when Grace cast the spell—an ancient rune that said grace. I still wasn’t sure if she’d done that as a joke. She claimed she had no idea that would happen, but I always wondered if part of her just wanted to make me walk around with her name on my wrist for a laugh. We weren’t exactly on great terms back then. We’d tolerated each other, at best.
“That’s the bracelet she used to—?” Aiden started.
“Yes,” I answered, cutting him off.
“So, it has her magic in it,” he announced, clapping his hands together. “That’s perfect.” He retrieved his phone from his pocket and wandered into the hallway to call that witch friend of his.
With Aiden out of the room, I decided to press Uncle Ben about something else that was on my mind. I jerked my head toward the kitchen, and he followed me over there. Not that it would do us much good since Aiden could hear us from all the way over here again. I hoped he would be too preoccupied with the phone call to eavesdrop, though.
“What’s up?” Uncle Ben asked, resting his hip against the counter as he folded his arms across his chest.
“You really think this was a good idea?” I asked, glancing over toward my brother.
Uncle Ben sighed. “Absolutely not. Believe me. I tried talking him out of it.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you two rescued me and all. I’m just surprised that he turned willingly. I thought he wanted to be a human.”
“Maybe he wanted his brother more.”