Never Again

by Michele Bardsley

  He couldn’t bear that she was in so much pain. But he hid his worries behind a smile, digging into the pocket of his jeans. “Hey, Sassy Mouth. I got something for you.”

  “Is it shiny and expensive?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, give it to me anyway.”

  He pulled the bracelet out. He’d been playing around with his new power and he’d created the jewelry from strands of grass and flower petals, binding it with the gossamer of a spider’s web. Green was the main color, and glittering between the thin strands were dots of pink, purple, white, and blue. He slipped it on Happy’s thin wrist. “This here’s a promise band.”

  “You made that up.” She studied it. “It’s beautiful, Ant.”

  “Just like you are.”

  “I think you get a gold star deducted from your chart for being a liar, liar, pants on fire.”

  “You are beautiful, Happy. Not just on the outside, but the inside. Your heart is the most beautiful thing about you.” He cleared his throat. “So. I promise to always be your friend. To be there when you need me. To give you a free hug any time you need it, and to always give you a shoulder to cry on.”

  She stared at him, her eyes filled with longing. “All that for me?”

  “All that and more.” He got on his knees next to the bed and gathered her frail, cold hands in his. “If you’re still interested, later, as in three, maybe four years, there’s a romance upgrade that’s part of the package.”

  “You won’t wait for me,” said Happy. “It’s, like, eons away. And let’s not forget that I’m kinda probably not gonna be alive.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you just doin’ this because I’m biting the big one?”

  He groaned and pressed his face into the covers. Then he raised his head. “I wouldn’t lie to you, not even on your deathbed. Which you’re not. Have some faith.”

  She looked at him, and he saw in that gaze the wisdom of a woman who understood things about life he never would. It rocked him, that look. She smiled so sadly, and said, “I believe that you believe.”

  “I’ll take it.” He kissed her knuckles. “Now rest.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed, and when he was sure she was asleep, he got to his feet and left the room.

  Trent waited in the hallway for him.

  “I think I know how to save her,” he said. “And if it works, Lucy’s curse will be gone, too.”

  Hope leaped inside him. He grabbed Trent by the shoulder. “How?”

  “Well, you’re probably not gonna like the first part,” said Trent warily.

  “Which is . . . ”

  “You know,” he said, wrenching free of Ant’s grasp and backing up a step. “The part where she has to die.”

  Chapter 15

  Harley Banton sat in his living room and cried. On the coffee table was an almost empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s, photo albums filled with pictures of his family before Lara died, and a loaded Colt .45.

  What he’d done twenty years ago haunted his every waking moment. Not even the whiskey helped no more.’Cause of his sins, he’d lost Lara. And now his boy was gone, too.

  Weren’t nothing left living for.

  Guess he could give the Moorelands some kind of peace. He supposed folks should know the truth of it all.

  He took the pen and the notebook paper he’d scrounged from a kitchen drawer.

  Dear Taylor,

  Twenty years ago, I killed your daddy. Him and Lara took up, you see. After Ren was born, she tol’ me what she done. She wanted a baby, and I couldn’t give her one. Your daddy liked her a lot. ’Bout the time he made Ant with your mama, he made Ren with my wife.

  Harley’s hand trembled, and he stopped writing long enough to take a pull from the whiskey bottle. The burn took some of his edge off, and he started writing again.

  I didn’t want your mama to suffer none, so I wrote the letter sayin’ he’d left with a Rackmore witch. Seemed like the thing to do. I can see now it was worse for y’all, and I’m real sorry.

  Lara found out what I done. All the light went out of her. She wouldn’t hold Ren no more, she stopped eatin’, and she cried all the time. She couldn’t live with my sin, so she took all them pills. I guess I killed her, too.

  ’Bout five years ago, Ren found Lara’s suicide letter. I kept it from the sheriff ’cause she confessed my shame an’ her own. Then he kept goin’ on about bein’ a magical. I didn’t know Edward had Wolf blood, but somehow Ren found out about it. He turned into a man I didn’t know. Collecting magic objects, sneaking around, lying. He wanted more than the world could give him, than I could give him, just like his mama.

  It don’t matter to me that Ren came from your daddy’s seed. He was my boy, and I loved him best I could.

  Sincerely,

  Harley Seymour Banton

  Harley reread the letter, and figured it told the tale just fine. He picked up the pen, and added one last line:

  P.S. I buried your daddy in my basement.

  Harley finished off the Jack. Then he picked up the Colt and put the barrel to his temple. For the first time in his miserable life, he felt like he was finally doin’ something right. He cocked the hammer.

  “Lara,” he whispered.

  Then he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 16

  Lucinda sat on the bed next to Happy and held her hand. Ringing the bedside were Gray, Ember, Ant, Taylor, and Trent. Rilton was downstairs with other folks, handling all the questions and worries and giving away a lot of tea and scones. “You sure about doing this, Happy?”

  “I’m gonna die either way,” she said. “So, it’d be way cool if I died for a few minutes instead of forever.”

  “Yeah,” said Lucinda. “I like that better, too.”

  Happy glanced at Ant. “I . . . want Ant to hold my hand when I . . . go.” She looked at Lucinda anxiously. “Is that okay? What if I . . . don’t return? Will you be mad?”

  “No,” said Lucinda. “I love you.”

  “Love you back.”

  Lucinda’s worry filled her up like cement, hardening with every damned breath. The idea was for Happy to drink poison. When she died, Trent would use his necromancy magic to grab hold of her soul and keep her long enough for Lucinda’s curse to break. Then Lucinda would use her thaumaturgy to heal Happy.

  The risk, of course, was that Happy had to die long enough for the curse to break. Too short, and it could renew itself, too long and Happy couldn’t be brought back. And it all depended on whether Lucinda could use her power the right way.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I didn’t mean to break my promise—you know, about leaving the nuns. But the Goddess asked me to. She said you would understand. She said you would need me, and when I got here, I should tell you”—Happy frowned, obviously trying to remember the exact words—“Give the heart to the dragon, so he can protect all that is all, in this world and the next, nevermore.” She nodded. “You’re the heart, and he’s the dragon,” she added. “That was the important part.”

  Lucinda glanced at Gray. He looked slightly dazed, as though Happy’s revelation had unlocked another secret inside him. “Thank you, Happy. You’re a brave girl.”

  “Actually, I’m terrified.”

  “That’s my cue,” said Ant. He turned to Trent. “You don’t bring her back, and you’re headed to the underworld next.”

  “Dude. I got this.” Trent sounded confident without any swagger. He looked at Lucinda. “Just because I kept it secret doesn’t mean I don’t take my gift seriously. I can do it.”

  “Okay,” said Lucinda. She slid off the bed and joined Gray, who put his arm around her. She grasped his waist and held on tightly. Please let this work, she prayed. Please.

  Ant took her place on the bed. He didn’t content himself with just holding Happy’s hand, though. He put his arm around her and tucked her in close.

  “It works quickly, chil’,” said Ember as she handed Happy the teacup. “Drink it all. You’ll go right to sleep.”

&nb
sp; Happy nodded. The cup trembled in her hand, but she managed to down the liquid in three big gulps. Ember took the cup and put it on the nightstand.

  “How long do you think . . . ” Happy’s words slurred and faded. Her eyes drifted closed and she fell against Ant’s chest.

  He held her close, his gaze latched on her face.

  Her breathing slowed . . .Then Happy gave one long hush of sound . . . and died.

  Trent stepped forward, his eyes focused on the space above Happy. Ant gripped the girl tightly, and Lucinda saw the tears in his eyes. Her own grief hovered inside like a trapped bird.

  Trent lifted his hands and sparkling gray magic emitted from his palms like glittery smoke. It swirled and twisted together, creating a bubble. When the large globe was finished forming, Lucinda could see the pure white light contained within.

  Happy’s soul.

  “I have her,” said Trent.

  “How long?” asked Ant, his voice hoarse.

  “Five minutes should be enough,” said Ember. “I’ll keep the time.”

  Each minute seemed to last a century. As soon as Ember intoned, “One minute left,” Lucinda felt her whole body go white-hot.

  She cried out, her knees buckling. Gray caught her and scooped her into his arms.

  Snap. Snick. The sounds started at her feet and kept issuing over and over, faster and faster. Up her legs, torso, arms, neck, head. Snap. Snick. It was painful, this release. The magic clung to her, reluctant to leave its host, not wanting death any more than Happy. Snap. Snick.

  She felt herself go stiff, and then her eyes rolled back in her head. The light burst inside her, gold and black, light and dark. Then she heard a female voice echo inside her mind, You are my Chosen. You and your mate shall protect the All in All, in the soul, in the heart, nevermore.

  “Lucinda!”

  The pain left her in a rush, and when it was all gone, she was left with the sure knowledge of what to do next. She looked at Gray, who held her so tightly, his gaze worried, and she smiled. “Put me down. I know what to do now.”

  He did as she asked, and once Lucinda was on her feet, she walked to the bed where Ant cradled Happy’s lifeless form. It was so simple. She plucked Trent’s glittery gray bubble from the air, and his magic hissed away. “Go home,” she whispered to the soul. “You still have work to do.”

  Then she placed her hand briefly on Happy’s still chest. Where her palm had lain, light glowed. The soul sank down into the light, and as soon as it disappeared into Happy’s body, the glow faded.

  Lucinda leaned down and kissed Happy’s forehead. Then she whispered into her ear, “Awake.”

  Happy sucked in a huge gulp of air, and her eyes flew open. “Holy shit!” she cried. “I can’t believe that worked.”

  Gray couldn’t believe everything had turned out all right.

  Lucinda was free of her curse.

  And if she wanted, free of him, as well.

  He was glad Happy had survived the experience. She’d been too excited to stay in bed, so Ant carried her downstairs so the rest of Nevermore could fuss over her. They were all still here, bringing her tea and scones, fluffing her pillow, and with Ant there, by her side.

  Gray wondered if Ant knew what a goner he was. Sure, the kid was nineteen and Happy sixteen, but he knew love-struck when he saw it. For instance, his own expression in the mirror.

  Lucinda played the hostess, filling teacups and plates until Ember and Rilton shooed her away. She stood in the living room leaning against the doorjamb and watching everyone chat. It was sort of the party she’d wanted, but he hoped . . . he hoped she would stay. He’d help her host a party every night if that was what brought her joy. He wanted to see her smile, hear her laugh, feel her hand in his. He wanted to wake up next to her and lose himself in her every night. He wanted to argue with her, and then have hot, stupid makeup sex. Goddess help him, he wanted to do the dishes with her, and sit in the library, even with Grit and Dutch carrying on, and read to her. They’d sit by the fire, her head on his shoulder, while he regaled her with Poe. He’d read “The Raven” to her first because that poem seemed the most appropriate.

  Did she want him? Now that she was free of her curse and could do anything, have anyone . . . would she stay with him still?

  He watched her intently, his heart trapped in his throat, his hands shoved into his pockets. He was riddled with doubts, but so in love with her that every centimeter of him ached with it. She seemed so serene now, as though she’d figured out her place in the world.

  He wanted to feel that way, too.

  But with her by his side.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered.

  She smiled. “We don’t have time for that.”

  “Just for future reference, there’s always time for that,” he said, “but I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “Okay.”

  He took her hand and led her upstairs to their bedroom. The whole way there, he rehearsed in his head what he planned to say. Yet, when they arrived in the room, and he’d shut the door to ensure their privacy, he blurted out, “Don’t leave me. Please.”

  “I won’t leave you in the lurch,” she said carefully. Her gaze searched his face. Could she not see his desperation? His love? He wasn’t trying to hide from her anymore.

  Gray’s throat knotted. If she wanted to go, he’d let her go. He wanted nothing more than her happiness, even if that meant a life without him in it. But he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t love her, or that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with her.

  “I love you, Lucinda.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay. I don’t want any lies or secrets between us. And I won’t make you stay if you want to go. Just . . . please think about it, would you? About being my wife . . . forever.”

  “You love me.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks, and Gray felt like an asshole. He’d made her cry. What kind of an idiot made the woman he loved cry? He took her into his arms and wiped away her tears. “I’m doing this all wrong! Damn it. Baby, I’m—”

  Lucy pressed her fingers against his lips. “Shush. I don’t think I can take much more. I love you, too, Gray. When you’re not around, I feel like half a person. I’ll stay here, by your side, for as long as you want me.”

  “Until the end of the time?”

  “Hmm.” She tilted her head. “I may have to check my calendar. . . .”

  “Why, you—” He scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed.

  “Gray, our guests . . . ”

  He kissed her until she went pliant beneath him. Then he grinned. “Our guests are fine. They won’t miss us.”

  “You really don’t understand the concept of a calendar, do you? I can probably pencil you in on Tuesdays.”

  “Every day,” he muttered, yanking up her shirt and planting kisses on every inch of smooth flesh. “For the rest of our lives. No. For the rest of eternity.”

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, and he looked up. In her eyes shone her love for him, and finally, oh, finally, he felt as though he’d found his place. In the world.

  And in the heart.

  Read on for a sneak peek at the next book

  in the Wizards of Nevermore series,

  NOW OR NEVER

  by Michele Bardsley

  Coming soon from Signet Eclipse.

  Thirty years ago . . .

  Millicent Dover loved children.

  She would never, ever be able to have any of her own. So, she funneled all that unrequited tender regard to her charges at the Raven’s Heart orphanage.

  Raven’s Heart was a repository for those darlings who were too different to succeed in their mundane families. Should an infant begin to show signs of magical heritage or be born with hex marks or, in some sad cases, otherworldly extremities—tails being the most common—the parents could drop off their newborns, or any child up to the age of four
, at Raven’s Heart.

  No questions asked.

  A death certificate would be issued and if necessary, a coroner’s report.

  And the poor, sweet dears would be left in Millicent’s care.

  Since the House of Ravens funded the orphanage, their members received priority access to the young magicals. Even so, she worked very hard to place the children in good homes, and she worked even harder to make sure the children were well mannered, strong in mind and in body, and above all, obedient.

  Millicent didn’t tolerate sass.

  If by the age of five, the children at Raven’s Heart had not been adopted, some were sent to the workhouses in Mexico, and others were gifted to European businesses that catered to a . . . well, particular and wealthy clientele.

  And then there were Millicent’s angels.

  Like the adorable cherub who now held her hand so tightly.

  She was such a good girl. Smart, pretty, duteous. Millicent loved her angels the best—she really did—but it seemed as though Lenore had more to offer this world.

  There was just something about the girl. She had a . . . sparkle.

  Well, thought Millicent, perhaps that shine would serve her well on the other side. Yes. Sweet little Lenore would be the brightest of all the angels.

  Millicent opened the door to the special room. Only her angels were allowed to see it. It was all pink and ruffles and lace. Cheerful. Like walking into a pile of cotton candy.

  In the corner sat a white chaise longue, the perfect spot for an angel’s repose. They always looked peaceful as they lay down to rest. It was a point of pride for her that they never suffered. She photographed their final moments and put those pictures into the scrapbooks she kept. Sometimes, she would take her dinner breaks in this room, and remember all the children she had loved, and who had loved her.