I’d searched the room before and come up empty. I started to walk on, but something stopped me. After a quick look around to ensure I was alone, I entered the room. I glanced around, trying to figure out what was bugging me. The books, I realized. The spines had no titles on them. I stepped up to the shelf and pulled down the smallest book from the far end. It looked old. At some point, the red binding had fallen apart and someone had repaired it with tape. It smelled ancient, and my nose wrinkled at the musty old-person scent. I cracked it open to a random page and read.
Those Healers and Protectors who have broken the strictures against mating should be punished instantly and publicly. Any offspring created by these unions shall be put to death. Allowing these half-breed abominations to live—
“Remy?”
I swung about guiltily, before I realized Erin was calling me from the kitchen. Quickly, I shoved the book into my bag, hoping Alcais wouldn’t notice the gap on the end of his shelf. I shot one last wistful look over my shoulder at the other books, but there was no way to take another without chancing discovery.
It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had been seeking out the library. Excitement surged through me. Had I discovered the person responsible for Asher’s death?
I was sure I’d been caught. Hanging out with Erin and Delia in the garage, I had to force myself to ignore my bag. I’d never stolen anything, and I now knew why. I didn’t feel that thrill of getting away with something. I wasn’t riding on a high. No, it felt like someone had erected a sign over my bag that flashed STOLEN OBJECT HERE in bright neon. The sign only existed in my imagination, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to cast guilty glances about.
“You still with us, Remy?” Erin asked with a concerned look. “Franc mentioned how awful that healing was. Are you sure you don’t want us to take a look at you?”
She reached for my hand where it rested on the table, and I jerked back before she could touch me. Her lips narrowed as if I’d hurt her.
“I’m a bit off still,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
Please let it drop, Erin.
“She said she doesn’t want help. Why can’t everyone leave her the hell alone?” Delia said.
My jaw dropped open. When had Delia become my defender? She shifted her glare to me, and I snapped my mouth shut. I decided to change the subject.
“Where’s Alcais?”
“Running an errand for Franc,” Delia said.
I happened to be looking at Erin and noticed how she had suddenly found her fingernails wildly fascinating. Her knuckles whitened. She noticed me watching her, and her unsettled expression brightened in an instant smile.
“What errand?” I asked casually.
Erin remained silent, obviously waiting for Delia to answer. If I hadn’t been feeling so guilty about the stolen book, I probably wouldn’t have noticed how weird she was acting.
“What are we? His keepers? How the hell should we know?” Delia almost snarled.
Touchy. I decided to ignore that for now. We started playing Texas poker, which I hated. I could never understand why people liked card games. An hour or so later, Delia went off to use the bathroom.
Erin and I sat in silence. Things had never been awkward between us. I wondered if maybe she’d seen me coming out of Alcais’s room and really did suspect something. A part of me wanted to confess, but what would happen then? Better to keep my mouth shut.
“Why did you heal Melinda?”
Erin’s quiet question sounded loud in the garage. Startled, I considered the question for a moment before answering.
I shrugged. “If I could help her, then it seemed like I had to try.”
“But you risked your life!”
“What else could I do? She’s family.”
Erin sucked in her breath, and I thought she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Shy as she was, the other Healers and their families sometimes spoke over Erin. They didn’t always listen when she voiced her opinion, but if one waited patiently, she had a lot to say. I let the silence stretch on until it almost started to breathe.
Finally, she exhaled, sending her bangs flying. “Melinda isn’t your family, Remy,” she whispered.
I froze. “What do you mean?”
Erin’s gaze stayed trained on the kitchen door. “Franc told us all to pretend Melinda was family if you asked about her, but we’ve never met her. He shouldn’t have lied to you like that. It was wrong.”
My grandfather had lied to me. And it wasn’t a little fib. It was a huge freaking lie that had convinced me to risk my life for a stranger.
“Why? Why would he do that?” I rocked backward in horror. “Did he charge that woman?”
How much had my life been worth to Franc?
“Not that I know of, but he wouldn’t exactly tell me.” She shook her head, her mouth creased in frustration. “It was a test. He wanted to force you to use your other abilities. To see how powerful you are. You were keeping secrets, and he wanted to force your hand. I overheard my mom saying that he didn’t think you’d go through with it. But you did.”
And I’d awed her. I could hear it in her words. What abilities did Franc think I hid? Did he know what I was?
Voices sounded in the distance. Delia would return any minute, and Erin had sparked a dozen questions tumbling over each other through my mind. Tonight I would leave and never have the answers.
“Erin, what’s going on?”
“He knows more about you than you think. You and your friend.”
“Gabe? What does he know about Gabe?”
Erin sent another worried glance toward the door. “I’ll be in so much trouble if they find out I’m talking to you like this.”
“Erin?” I stretched a hand across the table toward her. “If Gabe is in danger, please tell me,” I pleaded.
I thought she wouldn’t answer. Then, as the door to the kitchen started to swing open, she whispered, “Gabe’s not in danger. At least not yet. It’s your other friend. The one who followed you to California.”
Asher. She meant Asher.
I shot to my feet, and Erin grabbed for my hand, trying to pull me back down. At her pleading expression, I sank back into my seat. Delia entered, and I struggled to wipe the shock from my face.
Alcais followed Delia into the garage and studiously ignored me. Was he part of this? Had he learned of my grandfather’s suspicions? I’d never been so glad to be invisible as they made their way to the dartboard and began a game of Twenty.
My mind had caught on what Erin had said. She’d said that my other friend was in danger. If Asher was in danger, present tense, then . . . My stomach twisted and I pressed a hand to it.
I scooted my chair closer to Erin. Delia tossed us a curious glance over her shoulder, and I slid a magazine across the table toward Erin as if we were looking through the slick pages together. Nothing to see here, Delia. I blindly pointed at something on a page, which turned out to be a model’s nose, while Erin bent her head over the page.
Alcais began mocking Delia, and their usual bickering began. Under the cover of their loud voices, I whispered, “Just tell me . . . Is he still alive?”
Erin hesitated, ducking her head further so that her chin nearly dug into her breastbone.
“Please, Erin. Please.” My throat closed around the words, almost as if it, too, was trying to clamp down on hope.
I flipped a page, nearly ripping it in half because my hand shook so badly. I took a deep breath, every fiber of me concentrating on Erin while I pretended to give a crap about the fashion magazine in front of me. Fear and hope threatened to strangle me.
And then Erin’s head tilted in the slightest nod, and I could breathe once more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Somehow Erin and I had given ourselves away. Alcais and Delia refused to leave me alone with the shy girl the rest of my visit, and I wanted to scream. Alcais watched us with suspicion, and he leveled more than one pointed look at his sister when he thought I wasn’t payi
ng attention. I tried to pull answers from Erin’s expressions, to gather more information from her smallest gestures, but she had wiped her face clean.
I slipped away to the bathroom. I prayed they hadn’t noticed that I’d slid my phone into my pocket. It wasn’t until I had locked myself in the bathroom that I remembered the stolen book in my bag in the garage. I began to sweat as I paced back and forth in the small space.
Asher is alive.
What should I do? Where could he be? And how had the Healers learned he was alive? Tears clogged the back of my throat, and I ruthlessly stuck my fingernails into my arm until they retreated. I couldn’t cry. Not now. It would be a dead giveaway that I knew something.
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to keep it together. If the Healers knew Asher lived, then it followed that they might know where he was. Franc must know, but he would never tell me. He’d betrayed me. He’d lied to me and used me. I . . .
Those tears rose again, and I shoved them back again. Think, Remy. Okay. Franc had scarcely left my side in these last visits to Pacifica. I doubted he would lead us to Asher. He was too careful. Too on guard. There had to be another way.
Someone knocked on the door, and I bashed my elbow on a towel rack. I bit off a curse and rubbed the skin.
“What are you doing in there?” Alcais asked. “You’ve been gone forever.”
I shuddered. He’d definitely guessed something was up to follow me to the bathroom. I swallowed and tried to project my usual animosity toward him.
“Piss off, Alcais. I wanted a minute alone, okay?”
The door shuddered as if he’d slapped a hand against it. “Excuse me for checking on you.” He muttered something I was glad I couldn’t hear, and then said, “Well, hurry up. You’re not the only one who needs to get in there.”
His footsteps retreated, and I leaned against the sink. He was such a prick. He’d been an ass to me ever since I arrived. He’d . . . I paused. He’d been disappearing a lot lately. I’d thought that was because he disliked Gabe or was afraid of him, but maybe I’d been wrong.
And then tonight they’d all begun acting weird. What kind of errand would Franc send him on that Delia hadn’t wanted me to know about? Franc had no idea how Alcais hurt and used Erin and Delia. Sometimes it had seemed that he almost hated his own people, or at least how powerless he was in comparison to the Healers and Protectors. How far would he go with his hatred? And then there was the book I’d found in his room. A book about “half breeds” like me. All the pieces fit in a jumbled way.
Probably because I was forcing them to fit. I hated Alcais. Was I simply seeing what I wanted to see because I couldn’t stand him?
Maybe I was off base, but it wasn’t like I had any other guesses. Alcais might know something. I took a chance and texted Gabe.
ASHER ALIVE. NEED YOU NOW @ ERINS. FOLLOW ALCAIS. BE CAREFUL.
Then I left the bathroom and prayed that Alcais would lead us to Asher.
It was more difficult than I’d thought it would be to say good-bye to Erin. I wouldn’t miss the others—especially Alcais—but Erin was different. I’d come to care about her. I surprised her with a hug and squeezed her a little too tightly. She made a squawk and then giggled. I whispered, “Thank you,” into her ear, and she squeezed me back. Delia rolled her eyes when I waved, and I ignored Alcais entirely.
I followed Franc to the truck, stung by real regret that I would never see Erin again and feeling helpless because I couldn’t force Alcais to tell me what he knew. Somewhere in the dark, Gabe waited to follow Alcais. If that boy left the house again, Gabe would follow. His limbs could be half torn off, but he would still be there because Asher might be alive. My pulse leapt at the thought, and I had to shove the anxiety away again.
On the way back to San Francisco, I stared at the lights reflected on the passenger window and sat on my hands to hide how they trembled. Uncertainty howled through me. Had my grandfather’s affection been playacting—a staged game to keep me pacified? How had I forgotten that my mother had once run from him?
I gritted my teeth, anger crackling under my skin. How much did he know about what Alcais was up to? That thought nagged at me, and it killed me that I couldn’t come right out and ask without giving away what I knew. Back in Blackwell Falls, I had hoped that my grandfather would know what I was and maybe have a way to “fix” me. Or perhaps know a way for me to be with Asher without killing him. Now, I just wished that I could go home and undo everything that had happened here. I had risked everyone I cared about for nothing. I’d thought I’d gained more family, but I’d gained nothing. This community, these people—they were not mine. I did not belong.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Franc tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time to a song on the radio. He appeared carefree. Cheerful even. Except his gaze cut toward me with an assessing glance, as if he was considering new ways to test me and push me, while keeping me in line. Was that what tonight would have been about if I’d consented? Another test? I’d wanted him to love me and had ignored the signs that I was being manipulated. It was my mother all over again.
Poor Remy. So desperate for love, she’ll do anything for a family.
That bitter voice in my head mocked me. Rightly so. I had led us all to this point. Either my grandmother’s death had screwed up Franc more than I’d realized, or his time leading the Healers had done it. I studied his wrinkled skin, searching for answers and wishing I was wrong.
“What?” he asked when he caught me staring.
I paused. “Nothing. I was thinking that I was glad that my mother sent me here. Thank you for taking me in, Franc.” I lied through my teeth without an ounce of guilt.
He reached over to squeeze my hand. “That’s what family does.” His hand returned to the wheel, and I fought not to wipe my fingers on the seat. “You’re pretty amazing, Remy. I don’t think I’ve done right by you since you arrived. I should never have asked you to help heal your cousin.” He shook his head in regret. “I’m really hoping you believe in second chances.”
The sincerity in his voice sent me spiraling again. Perhaps I was reading everything wrong. What did I really know? Erin had said that Franc had lied about Melinda being family. That he knew more about me than I realized. She’d implied that I was in danger because of it. When I replayed our conversation, though, she hadn’t actually said Asher’s name or said my grandfather was guilty of anything except testing my abilities. Acid frothed and churned in my stomach. It would kill Gabe if I’d sent him on a wild goose chase to find his brother. It would kill me, too.
I wanted to press Franc for answers, but now wasn’t the time. If I asked him the wrong question, he might become suspicious, and I needed him to believe things were the same as ever. If Asher was alive, my grandfather had hidden that fact from me, along with everything else he’d learned. That made him a very dangerous man.
So I bared my teeth in a smile and told my grandfather, “Of course I believe in second chances. That’s what family does.”
My suitcase stood sentinel at the door, packed and ready to go. I sat cross-legged on my bed, chewing on my fingernails and imagining myself as the crazy woman doing loops along the walls in The Yellow Wallpaper. I hated being stuck here, unable to help. I’d texted Gabe, but he hadn’t responded. Franc had gone to bed hours ago, and I could feel my chance to slip away tonight disappearing with every tick of the wall clock’s hands. Much worse than that, though, I worried that Gabe hadn’t texted me because he’d been captured. I refused to imagine anything beyond that, but my stomach churned at the possibilities.
By 3:00 A.M., I’d bitten my right thumb bloody and had to fight the urge to pace across the squeaky floorboards. The stupid clock was driving me mad. It had begun to sound like it ticked “Asher is dead. Gabe is dead. Asher is dead. Gabe is dead.” Finally, I gave in to the urge to yank it off the wall and stripped the batteries out of the back.
That was when I discovered that the silence was far worse
than the ticking.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I smothered my face with a pillow and shrieked into it. The muffled yelling didn’t help, and my imagination bounded out of its confines. Freaking Gabe. When he showed up, I was going to—
A pebble hit my window. I dropped the pillow and ran to open it. Outside on the lawn, Gabe stood out in the open where my grandfather’s men could see him. I stage-whispered, “Are you crazy? Hide—”
He shook his head. “No need. I took care of the guys watching the house. Get down here, and bring your things.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed my purse, bag, and suitcase and tiptoed down the stairs. Gabe met me at the back door and took my bags.
“What did you do to my grandfather’s men?”
Gabe tipped his head toward a truck parked down the street. It looked empty. “They’re tied up in the truck bed. I knocked them out.”
I didn’t say anything.
“You’re not going to ask me why?”
“No. I assume you had a good reason.”
“I did. Get in, and we’ll talk.”
I followed him to a black sedan that he’d left running at the curb. He threw my things in the trunk, and we both climbed in. He’d probably stolen the car, but I didn’t care enough to ask. That was how far I’d fallen. It should have worried me, but all I cared about was finding Asher. What had Gabe discovered that we were no longer hiding our escape?
I spared one last glance for my grandfather’s house, until I couldn’t see it anymore. Regret rose up, but I shoved it down. There were other matters to deal with.
“Gabe, what’s going on? Did you learn anything?”
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