Swear

by Amanda Hocking

  "The Ghostbusters rescued her at the end, and it all turned out okay," I said, making Jack smile.

  "You better not tell Bobby about this, because he's just dying for an excuse to get a proton pack when he goes on missions with you," he joked, and I was laughing as we stepped off the elevator.

  As we walked down the hall, a banging noise came from inside the apartment, and both Jack and I slowed when we saw the door was ajar. Jack let go of my hand and stepped in front of me, preparing to protect me from whatever awaited us in our place.

  WE CREPT SLOWLY INTO THE house, which opened into the small kitchen, and I let Jack lead the way, even though I knew that I would be doing most of the fighting if it came to that. A wall separated us from the great room, with an opening to the far left, and I could hear heartbeats and the sound of metal clattering.

  "Oops," Bobby said from the other room, and Jack relaxed in front of me.

  "I just don't understand how we brought back so much stuff. We were only gone for four nights," Milo grumbled.

  We'd walked closer to the opening, close enough that we could peak around the corner and see several suitcases spread out on the floor. Milo was crouched over one, with his back to us, and Bobby stood in the center holding a big tin of cookies.

  "I stocked up on snacks, since we never have any," Bobby said defensively. "Sometimes it's rough being the only mortal here."

  Milo shot him a look. "That's fine. Eat your giant tin of macarons and biscuits. But I don't want to hear you complain about needing to hit the gym more."

  "I do need to hit gym," Bobby said through a mouthful of pastel colored cookies. Crumbs spilled out on the floor around him, so Matilda stood at his feet, licking them up and wagging her tail. "I haven't gone since before the wedding."

  Jack sauntered into the room and said, "I'm assuming your luggage is so full because you got me so many presents while you were in Paris."

  "Oh, I did get you something!" Bobby said excitedly.

  Bobby set the tin down and rummaged through a bag before pulling out a tiny Eiffel tower statue. Before handing it to Jack, he flicked off the tip to reveal that it was a lighter.

  "Hey!" Milo exclaimed and clamored over the luggage to me.

  "I'm so glad your back," I said as we hugged.

  It sounded silly, since he'd only been gone for a handful of days, and we were both adults. And even though I enjoyed having some time to just me and Jack, the truth was that, for me, home never felt quite like home without my brother.

  Once we separated, I asked, "How was the trip?"

  "It was really amazing, and we'll have to go in the future when we have more time. Bobby did tons of amazing drawings while we were there." He turned to call back to him. "Babe, why don't you show them your sketchbook?"

  "Yeah, sure."

  Bobby pulled his large moleskin sketchbook out of his bag and laid it down on the dining table. He flipped through the pages until he found the ones that started in Paris, then he stepped back so Jack and I could look at them.

  Back when Bobby first started dating Milo, he'd been an art student, and he was a very good artist. His preferred medium were oil pastels, and he created vibrant, impressionistic drawings that were captivating. Several of his pieces we'd already framed and put up around the apartment.

  There was a picture of Milo standing in front of the Seine River, with the sky and water all lush blues and purples, and the stars and streetlights shining in bright oranges and yellows. And in the picture, Milo had never looked happier. Bobby absolutely captured his bashful smile and the sparkle in his dark eyes.

  "This one is really amazing," I said as I tapped the page.

  He shrugged while eating another macaron. "It's more fun than taking pictures."

  Milo peered over my shoulder. "That one is my favorite too."

  "So how has everything been here?" Bobby asked, I suspected to change the subject off of complimenting him. "Anything exciting to report?"

  Jack and I exchanged a look before I replied as nonchalantly as possible, "Nope. Not really."

  "What about work? Did you get any calls?" Bobby leaned on a dining room chair beside me so he could watch my response.

  I didn't want to lie to him, because we worked together and he'd have to know about the events last night with Iris Emmanuel. But I didn't really want to get into it right now, not when they'd just gotten home. I knew I'd also end up telling him my theory on Elise haunting me, but that all felt like too much to deal with, especially after the reading that Jessamine had just given Jack.

  "Why don't you unpack and settle in, and we can talk about it more later?" I suggested.

  He winced. "That bad, huh?"

  "Not that bad," I said, and since I needed to give him something so he didn't keep pestering me, I added, "It just turns we had a member of the House of Basarab hanging out locally."

  "Had?" Bobby asked with a raised eyebrow.

  "As in they are now expired, yes," I said.

  He opened his mouth to press for more info, I'm sure, but a knocking interrupted him. He glanced toward the wall, and the entrance hidden on the other side in the kitchen, and asked, "Is that the door?"

  "Are you expecting anyone?" Jack asked, to no one in particular.

  Bobby shook his head. "It's 8 pm on a Sunday. Most people I know aren't out and about yet."

  "I'll get it," Milo offered.

  He disappeared around the corner, and I listened for "oops, wrong house" or possibly Abner, telling me about some new issue I'd have to deal with. Instead, I just heard a very subdued response from Milo, inviting the guest in.

  He came back look rather nervous before announcing, "Peter is here."

  Bobby gasped. "Peter?"

  And then there he was, coming in behind Milo. Peter dressed more casually than I usually saw him, in slim-fitting jeans and a basic sweater, and his dark hair was abnormally unkempt. A vexed smile played on his lips, and his emerald eyes were as somber as ever.

  "What's going? Did something happen?" I asked, already panicking at his unannounced presence in my home.

  "Not exactly," he said, his voice tinged with an undercurrent of irritation. "I was nearby in Berlin, when I got a phone call from an old friend and had a very interesting conversation." His eyes landed heavily on me. "I think you know her. She goes by Cate now."

  PETER STOOD GLOWERING AT US in the middle of our living room, as we all gaped at him. Matilda - who was usually excited to see everybody, including Peter - had gone to hide in her bed by the windows, because the tension was that palpable.

  "Did you know about their excursion to Prague to stalk my wife's best friend?" Peter asked, settling his stony gaze on Jack.

  "I did know, but I wouldn't really classify it as stalking," Jack replied, absently rubbing his bicep and doing his best to avoid the full scrutiny of his brother's glare.

  That must've satisfied Peter, because he turned to me, looking more exasperated than angry, and asked, "When were you going to tell me you met with Cate? Were you going to tell me?"

  "I don't know," I admitted. "She didn't really tell me anything that I thought you'd need to know."

  "But you needed it to know it?" Peter countered.

  I shook my head adamantly. "It wasn't like that. I didn't seek her out. Olivia ran into her, and she was acting strange. I was just making sure she didn't want to hurt you or anybody else."

  "Why should she want to hurt me?" Peter demanded, sounding skeptical. "I haven't spoken to her in 150 years."

  "How was I supposed to know that?" I shot back. "We've hardly seen you for the better part of the past five years. For all I know, you could've been palling around with her until you pissed her off, and now she's planning to kill us all."

  He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Oh, that's ridiculous."

  "Is it?" I asked. "Because you brought lycans to Minnesota before, and those terrible vampire bounty hunters went after us during that whole mess with Daisy."

  "Daisy was not my fau
lt!" Peter objected. "That was all Mae. I was only trying to help her."

  I waved it off. "Either way. I've learned that I need to be proactive with this family."

  Peter glared at me a moment longer before sighing and relaxing his stance. "I gather that Cate convinced you she wasn't going to terrorize me or the rest of us."

  "She didn't seem to be a threat, no," I said, choosing my words carefully.

  "Good," he replied evenly. "Because she's invited me to visit her in Ireland."

  Now it was my turn to be skeptical, and I asked, "Why?"

  "She still owns the house that I shared with Elise. She thought it would be nice to see the old place again and talk," Peter explained, like it all sounded perfectly reasonable to him.

  "Are you going?" Milo asked.

  He'd moved to the side of the room, putting some space between himself and Peter, with his arms folded over his chest, and Bobby hovered near his side, watching the conversation with anxious fascination. Jack still lingered back, and I realized that I'd stepped forward when arguing with Peter, leaving me the one standing closest to him.

  I corrected this as soon as I noticed, taking a step closer to Jack and crossing my arms.

  "I haven't decided. I'm not sure what Cate and I would have to say to each other," Peter answered.

  "I don't think you should go," I said honestly.

  Peter scowled at me. "And why not?"

  "Cate doesn't like you," I told him. "I don't know why she would invite you out there. I don't even understand why she called you."

  "Why would you say she doesn't like me?" Peter asked, undeterred.

  "Because she told me that. She said, 'I never cared for Peter,'" I said bluntly, causing Bobby to snicker before Peter shot him a look, then Bobby instantly fell silent.

  "There are some things that tie people together other than fondness and warm feelings," Peter said coolly. "We have a shared history, Alice."

  "I don't trust her," I maintained.

  "I thought you said she wasn't a threat," Milo pointed out. "What does it matter if Peter goes?"

  "I said she didn't seem like a threat, but that doesn't mean she isn't one," I clarified. "And I don't know her so that's especially hard for me to gauge."

  "She did give me a bad vibe," Bobby agreed. "And I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she had something to do with those Basarab jerks knowing that we were hunters."

  "You think Cate tipped them off?" Jack asked, looking concerned.

  I didn't disagree, but I only shrugged and asked, "But how did Cate know that I was a hunter in the first place?"

  "I don't know. Maybe I'll find out when I go visit her," Peter said sharply.

  "Oh, now you decided you're going?" I asked him.

  "Of course he did, Alice," Jack said in a combination of exasperation and reluctant acceptance. "He just found out it was dangerous, so he has to go. If you could guarantee him that it's a suicide mission, he'd be out the door faster than we could say 'no, stop, don't go.'"

  "No, it's not like that," Peter argued. "I just think Alice made a good point, and I want to go see Cate myself and make sure that she's not up to anything.

  "Well, it's a good thing that Bobby hasn't unpacked yet," Jack said with a sigh and gently kicked at the suitcase nearest to his foot.

  "What are you talking about?" Peter asked.

  "Because obviously, Bobby and Alice need to tag along with you," Jack said.

  "Oh, shit," Milo said as me and Bobby exchanged a look. "That is what you were thinking, isn't it?"

  "It is dangerous to go alone," Bobby replied meekly.

  "Who says I'm inviting either of you to go with me?" Peter asked.

  "Bobby and I do this kind of thing for a living, Peter. And as I said earlier, this isn't about just you. It's about keeping any trouble chasing you from following you back home," I told him honestly as I motioned to Jack and Milo.

  "Fine," Peter said, since he couldn't really fight against keeping both of our brothers safe. "If you insist on joining me, I'm flying out later tonight."

  "I thought you said you hadn't decided yet," Jack said.

  Peter shrugged. "I lied."

  "We just got back." Milo took Bobby's hand and started pleading with him. "Can't just Alice go with Peter?"

  Jack cleared his throat. "I personally think it would be better if Bobby went, too. Safer." His voice was even, but he didn't look at either Peter or me.

  "So I should book the flights then?" Bobby asked, holding his cell phone up.

  Peter nodded. "I'm on the 10:30 out of Amsterdam."

  "Shit. I have to go pack then," I realized.

  "I swear you two spend more time gone than at home," Milo muttered as Bobby hurried to book the flights on his app.

  "Hey, I didn't choose the vampire hunting life. The vampire hunting life chose me," Bobby was saying as I headed back to my bedroom.

  In my closet, I hurriedly grabbed at clothes, since I wasn't sure where we were going in Ireland or how long we'd be gone or even what we'd be doing. And I suddenly felt frazzled, both at the suddenness of the trip and the prospect of spending several days with Peter. I trusted myself around him completely, but it had been years since we spent any length of time together.

  While I tried to calm my nerves and shoved an extra pair of boots into my luggage inside the walk-in closet, I overheard Jack as he walked towards our bedroom.

  "I'll get it," Jack was saying followed by the sound of our bedroom door opening.

  "What is it?" Peter asked. Based on the sound of his voice, he was only a few steps behind Jack.

  I peeked through the crack between the closet door and watched Jack pick up the box of Peter's letters off my bedside table before returning to the hall. The light was off in the bedroom, so as they stood outside the open doorway, talking, the hall light cast shadows of them across our bed.

  "I meant to throw these away," Peter said.

  "Why?" Jack asked.

  Peter was silent at first, but then he said, "I still have my memories of her - nothing can change that. But I wanted to let go. I don't want to live in the past anymore."

  "That's a surprisingly healthy outlook for you," Jack replied, sounding genuinely impressed.

  "Thanks," Peter replied with a small laugh. "And thank you for letting Alice come along with me. I do think it's better for me if I don't go it alone this time."

  "Wow. Look at that. You asking for help, and me trusting you with my fiancee. We're both really maturing."

  "It does seem that way," Peter agreed.

  "But you know I don't 'let' Alice do anything. I couldn't stop her if I tried."

  "I know."

  "But I wouldn't have stopped her anyway, even if I could," Jack said. "She is good at what she does, and she'll make sure you come back from Ireland in one piece."

  BOBBY SAT IN THE NARROW seat in front of us, a tablet on his lap playing episodes of the animated adventures of Rick & Morty, with headphones in his ears. Peter sat by the window, watching at the darkness below as the small plane soared over the North Sea.

  So far, through the short flight, Peter had spent the entire time fidgeting. Twisting a ring on his thumb. Running a hand through his hair. Rubbing his neck. Readjusting in his seat. Turning the fan in every direction possible.

  "Are you nervous?" I asked, since he was distracting me from my ability to read the latest Holly Black novel. "Because you seem nervous."

  "No, I'm not." He settled back in the seat, and his leg brushed up against mine. "It's sort of like nervous, but it's something different."

  "What is it?"

  Quietly, and sounding almost ashamed, he finally said, "This is the first time I'll have gone back to visit Elise since... since she died."

  "What do you mean visit?" I asked.

  I hadn't yet told him that I suspected Elise was haunting me, and I wasn't sure how to or if I even should. I had no idea how Peter would react to it. Since he seemed to be doing so well lately, I didn't want to s
end him into a tailspin, like he was prone to go into.

  "She's buried behind the house." His eyes darted to the side, making sure no one was overhearing, not that anyone on the flight cared about us at all. "The house we're going to."

  "You never went back?"

  "I couldn't." He licked his lips. "I knew that if I did, I would only want to crawl in the ground and stay with her there forever."

  I closed my book and set it on my lap. "I'm glad you didn't."

  "Me too." He smiled crookedly. "Most of the time."

  "Can I ask you something that's kind of uncomfortable?"

  He laughed softly. "I think most of our conversations are uncomfortable and usually intense."

  "Fair enough." I waited a beat, gathering the nerve, before finally asking, "Do you remember back when we still all lived in Minneapolis, you told me... you said you loved me more than you'd ever loved anyone, including Elise?"

  "I do," he replied, speaking very slowly and evenly. "I remember that. And I meant it at the time. But I was hurting a lot then, and I..." He stopped and started over. "Back then, I still wished that you had chosen me, and not him."

  "But you don't wish that now?" I asked, watching him struggle to choose his words.

  "If you're asking me if I'm still in love with you, I'm not. I was," he admitted. "For longer than I should've been, honestly. And I care for you now, the way I'm sure I always will, but it's not the same."

  "Good," I said, too quickly and too forcefully, so I hurried to amend it with, "I mean, I feel the same way. But that's not what I was asking."

  Peter looked over at me, his eyes blazing green. "What were you asking then?"

  "Do you think Elise was your soulmate?"

  "Yes," he answered, sounding very certain. "And I'll admit that the way I felt about you did make me question it. For a while, I couldn't be sure if it was you or it was her."

  "How did you decide it was her?" I asked.

  "Eventually, with enough distance and time, the ache for you stopped," he explained. "Do you know the ache I'm talking about? I'm assuming you feel it with Jack, the longing so intrinsic to your very being that your bones hurt when you're apart for too long."