“I saved you from them. He took you from me, but I brought you back. I killed him.”
“W-who?”
“He’s not important. Come with me. I will tell you everything I know. I should banish those who placed you in this retched room.”
I let him take my hands and we walk out of the cold room. The higher we go in the dark stoned building, the warmer it gets. As we climb the spiraling staircase, we pass windows that show a beautiful golden wheat field under a faultless blue sky. The field reaches for miles over rolling hills. I stop and watch the blades softly bend in the direction of the wind.
“Do you recall something?”
I shake my head.
Vincent frowns. He takes my hand, leading me up through another hallway and into a vast bedroom with long red velvet curtains and a canopy bed with sheer red drapes. The furniture is a dark wood, and all of my little trinkets are still here. The room is mine; I remember. Nothing looks out of place.
“I can’t believe you’re here with me. I’ve searched for you, centuries it seems. And now you’re here.”
He leans down and kisses me once more. His kiss provides me with yet another memory, but it is unclear, and I don’t feel his arms around me or feel the kiss.
Chapter Thirty
My eyes flutter open and it takes me a minute to remember I’m at Vincent’s. The TV is on and I’m still in his lap. His notebook is still open, and the room is dark as rain pours outside. I sit up slowly, feeling more tired than before. Heat fills inside me and chill bumps scatter all over my skin. My throat is still sore.
“If I knew my writing would put you to sleep, I wouldn’t have given it to you,” Vincent says.
I groggily look his way. “No, sorry. I’m just tired is all.”
“Are you feeling better?”
I shake my head and feel my throat. It’s definitely swollen. My head is throbbing. “I had the strangest dream.”
“What was it about?”
I hesitate, unsure if I want to tell him I’ve been having a constant storyline in my dreams. “Um, you and me. But the details are foggy.”
“Okay,” he says. “Did I at least kiss you?”
I smile.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I must be good if I’m in your dreams.”
I roll my eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s a quarter to three.”
My eyes open wider. “What?” Did I really sleep the whole time I’ve been here? “I slept for seven hours?”
“Yeah. Which tells me you’re getting really sick.” He frowns and moves closer to me.
“You were seriously passed out.”
“I’m a pretty heavy sleeper. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. You need the rest. You’re not going to work, tonight, are you?”
“I have to.”
“Meg, you really don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel great.”
“Then I’ll take you home.”
“No, I can drive.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t. Let me take care of you. Just tell your parents I drove you home from school because you were too sick.”
Part of me wants to check on Casper, because for some reason I miss him. I don’t know if it’s because of the dream or the fact that he’s in bad shape. I know I shouldn’t be driving since I can barely keep my eyes open. “Vincent, it’s really okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Too bad you can’t stay here. I’m great at taking care of people.” He grins.
“I wish I could.”
We walk out to my car, and he kisses me. I slide into my seat, close my door, and check my phone for messages, and I got one from Cherry.
Where are you today? Did you hear Casper got into an accident? They say it was pretty bad.
Accident? Now I really feel bad for blaming Vincent. Poor Casper. What happened? I need to see him. The dream I had last night left me with a stabbing pang in the pit of my stomach. With the world spinning around me, I force myself to focus on the road.
Seeing Casper in the hospital last night, and getting shot in my dream, I have to see him. This need won’t go away until I know he’s okay.
Calling Cherry, I make my way toward the hospital.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks. “Why weren’t you in school today? You don’t sound good.”
“I played hooky with Vincent but ended up sleeping most of the time because I’m coming down with something.” My voice sounds terrible. Like suddenly I’ve developed testosterone and it’s deepened.
“Hooky with Vincent? Yum. What did you do besides sleep?”
“We hung out.
“Did you ever find out why they fought?”
“He has some deep hatred for Casper.”
“And you don’t? Especially after yesterday?”
I release a sigh. “I can’t explain it.”
“I feel like anything Casper does, you choose to ignore it. Are you still dreaming about him?”
“Yes, but that’s not the reason.”
“You told me yesterday that I was right about Casper. That all he’s doing is messing with you.”
“I don’t understand why they hate each other so much. They don’t even know one another. It can’t be because of me.”
“You’re kidding me, right? Of course, it’s because of you. Casper is pouting because he can’t have what he wants.”
The comment almost makes me lash out, but I don’t. “I know you don’t understand it. Sometimes I don’t either. Casper isn’t who we thought he was.” But if he was the one who spread the rumors, then he’s exactly who I think he is. Then again, he completely attacked Vincent. I don’t know why I have to see him again.
“Has he brainwashed you?”
“No. You should see the way he acts around me. Or hear the things he says. It’s hard to explain.”
“Yeah. That’s called manipulation. I worry about you. You’re with a great guy. Why ruin it by being friends with Casper?”
“Why can’t we be friends?”
“He attacked Vincent. He told everyone that he slept with you. Why do you ignore the signs?”
“I don’t know what it is, Cherry. He saved me the other night. I don’t know how everyone found out that I stayed at his house.”
“Casper told them. Why do you defend him?”
“There’s just something off and I don’t know what it is. I just need you to be my friend.”
“I am.”
When I pull into the hospital, I end the call with Cherry. Huddling inside my coat, I make my way toward the entrance. The elevator dings, I get off, and make my way toward his room.
I quietly enter, relieved that no one else is in here. He looks the same as the night before. I move toward him and reach for his hand, which is warm, but rough from several cuts. My fingers lightly caress his hand and almost like an automatic response, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I have this sudden urge to want to curl up and lie next to him, but I shake the thought away. I can’t help thinking of my dream last night. He was shot and the image keeps circling my mind, and now he’s unconscious.
Chills envelop me and my ears ring. I need to go home and lie down. I’m getting weaker every second. I promise myself I’ll sleep it off and come back tomorrow. I squeeze his hand and try to keep the tears away.
“Please Casper. Wake up.” My vision blurs and I don’t care that I’m crying. My heart is broken at the sight and I want to do something, anything to wake him up. Like that day I ran to his house and woke him. I want to see his brown eyes or hear him tell a stupid joke. I don’t care that he spread rumors, if he really did. I need him to wake up. I kiss his hand and press it to my cheek, pretending it’s him touching me. I know it’s wrong to want that, but I do.
Mom wakes me at some point and makes me eat a bowl of chicken noodle soup. I’m glad that the sickness covers up my sadness because I don’t want to tell her the boy I
’ve been dreaming about is in a coma. I miss him. The ache in my throat and body is nothing compared to the ache in my chest. I go back to sleep, letting the dreams continue.
After resting, I wash and dress in a low-necked dark green gown. The elbow-length sleeves have a ruffle trim. I study my reflection in the tall mirror. Long black hair. Milky skin. Oval face. Blue eyes. My name is Megan and I am a Sprite. An immortal being. I live at the Chateau de Fées, a beautiful palace in France. It’s 1758 and I’m seventeen. I love Vincent and always have. Florence is my best friend. But when I try remembering the last four months it’s all black. I struggle with my mind, digging through memories, but it’s like a hollow void.
Vincent enters the room and stands behind me. His dark blue eyes watch me through the reflection. His heavy gaze feels as though he is drinking me in. There’s so much passion, yet pain in his eyes.
“I can’t tell you how good it feels to have you in my arms again.”
I smile. “I’m trying to remember everything. When did that vision take place?” I turn to face him. “The one you showed me yesterday.”
He’s reluctant to answer, but I take his hand in mine. “Please, tell me.”
Tears well in his eyes. “Seven years ago.”
I stiffen. I can’t breathe. Maybe it’s the corset suffocating me. Or the sudden knowledge that I have lost seven years of my life. My knees buckle.
Vincent grips my arms and holds me upright. “You’re here now. You’re safe, Megan. I won’t let you go.”
“Where was I?”
He leads me to sit at the small table in front of the window. He opens the curtains to let the brilliant sunlight into the room. He always told me he loves the way I look in the sunlight. I peer out into vast rolling hills and mountains in the background.
“When I came back from my mission seven years ago, you were gone,” he says. “Rumors surfaced of you spending time with another man while I was away.”
My eyes widen. “Are you sure?” I shake my head. It doesn’t sound like me at all.
“When I realized who it was, I knew why. He was an Elf. He brainwashed you into leaving and he kept you for seven years.”
“What? Was he the reason I can’t remember anything?”
He wavers. “Megan, I must confess something to you.”
I reach for his cheek, but he catches my wrist and kisses my palm.
“What is it?” I ask.
“When I found you, you looked gaunt, like you hadn’t eaten in days or weeks. You were dirty and didn’t want anything to do with me.” A tear falls down his cheek and my heart aches for him. He looks into my eyes. “Megan, I erased your memory of them torturing you. I erased the last seven years because you begged me to. I couldn’t stand for you to be in pain, but I messed up, because you can’t remember things that occurred before I left.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Spending my days with an Elf while Vincent was away? Our only enemy? The same ones who have declared war on us several times and killed so many of us? I feel the tears coming. I never thought Vincent would erase my memories, but I’m glad he did. The Elves manipulated and fooled me with their charm.
“Why were they here?” I ask, hearing the building anger in my voice.
“Looking for the Nuummite Jewel.”
“Why did they take me? Did they take anyone else?”
“From what I gather, one of them manipulated you into trying to find the Jewel for them. He made you fall in love with him. They must have run out of time and one of them fled, while the other took you with him to use you as a pawn, thinking we’d give up the Jewel since they stole you. But we found you.”
“Where did you find me?”
“He held you captive in some building in the woods. We shot him.”
Something in my mind tries to push its way through at the mention of a shooting. I keep hearing a gunshot in my head. I jump once I see an image of a dark figure walking toward me with a gun.
“Megan? What is it?” Vincent asks, taking my hand.
“I don’t know. I saw a glimpse of someone with a gun and I think he was trying to kill me.”
“What?”
“I see bits and pieces of an image.”
“The Elves. Perhaps the man who took you. Torturing you.” Vincent shakes his head. “Do you forgive me, Megan?”
“Of course, I do, Vincent. I wish I could remember those last few memories of us though, but you did the right thing. Do you forgive me?”
“You did nothing wrong, mon trésor.” I smile at his pet name for me, but I feel guilty. How could I have let another man fool me into loving him?
Vincent gets to his feet and takes my hand. “Let’s visit your family. I’m sure everyone will be glad to see you.”
I nod. I know he doesn’t want me thinking these things because they are traumatic, and it’s best that they stay hidden. But somewhere deep inside me wants to remember everything and who did this to me. Why did they do this? I feel lost. I have to find out the truth. I want to find the man who did this to me. Vincent said they shot him, so perhaps he’s a prisoner. I must confront him.
Chapter Thirty-One
The bright morning sun filters through my blinds. My eyes squint and exhaustion wears on my body. The soreness in my throat hasn’t gone away but not only does it hurt to swallow, it’s hard to swallow, as if something is closing up my throat. I still have a fever and my dreams are getting more bizarre. I feel like I’m in a Lord of the Rings novel. Next, I’ll be seeing dwarves.
I feel like the dreams are trying to tell me something. Casper is bad and manipulating me into loving him. It’s a warning. The crazy dreams make my head spin and make me nauseous.
Mom gently pushes open my door and places her cold hands on my forehead. She sticks a thermometer under my tongue and a minute later she gasps. “I gotta take you to the doctor. Do you think you can get dressed?”
I mumble something incoherently.
“That’s okay. Put some shoes and socks on and bundle up.”
After finally getting up, I do what she says and amble down the hall and meet her at the front door. Since it feels awful to sit up, I lay in the back seat of her car while she drives to the doctor. Once we get there, I about fall asleep on the plush couch in the waiting room, but I’m called back in time. Mom tells the doctor my symptoms since I can’t barely sit up straight.
A nurse pokes me in my finger, takes my blood pressure and temperature, and a few minutes later comes back with the doctor. She examines me and I’m lucky that neither one seems to notice stitches in my head or bandages on my back. The doctor leaves and we wait for what seems like an eternity, but she returns.
“She has mono,” the doctor says. All I hear is “mono…prescription…could last a month…”
We arrive home after filling the prescription and I go back to bed. Mom forces me to eat chicken soup and take my medicine. It soon kicks in and I’m out.
In my dreams, Vincent takes me to my parents, and I fear they hate me, but they’re happy to see me. I don’t feel like I’ve slept very long before Mom is waking me again. When my eyes finally focus, she’s staring at me with an intimidating look, arms crossed, and lips tightly pressed in a straight line.
I sit up, trying not to panic. I’ve done so many things lately, I don’t know why she’s upset. “What’s wrong?”
“Megan, I know you don’t feel well. But I called your work to tell them you would be out for a while. They informed me that you’d been out for quite a few days. How many days have you missed?”
I’m trying to sort through all the lies and the truth and I can’t remember what I’ve said and not said. I swallow and wince from the horrible grainy feeling in my throat. “Mom, I called out a couple of times because…” Think fast. “Cherry needed me.”
She frowns and rolls her eyes. “I’m sure Cherry was fine and that you didn’t need to call out of work. Where did you get the money to cover what you lost?”
I feel like c
rap and she wants to yell at me. “Nowhere.”
“Don’t lie to me. Where did you get it?”
I bite my lip. “Vincent.”
“You’re going to pay him back. I can’t believe you asked him for money to cover your irresponsibility! Give me your phone. You’re grounded.”
“What? No, Mom, please.”
“It shouldn’t be that bad of a punishment since you’re sick anyway and can’t go anywhere. How many times do I have to tell you to stop lying to me? Why do you feel the need to lie?”
“I don’t know. Because you never understand or care what I go through.”
She scoffs. I know she’s offended. I want to tell her about my attack, but I feel like she’d tell me I shouldn’t have gone to the party and that she told me so. Or she’ll want me to go to the police and I don’t want to because I’m afraid Adam will find me again. I’m scared.
“What is going on with you? Ever since you started dating Vincent, you’ve been missing work and you’re hardly ever here. And when you are here, you’re always in a mood. Give me your phone.”
“Mom—”
“Megan, I’m tired and you’re sick. We’re not arguing about this.”
I let out a sigh as my chin quivers. I reach over to my nightstand, grab my phone, and hand it to her. She takes it and leaves the room.
I let the tears fall. Either I tell Mom what happened, or I suffer through another grounding. What am I supposed to do?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Hours later, I make my way to the living room to talk to Mom. She and Ron are watching TV as usual. Mom cackles at something funny. She laughs like she’s in the best mood ever. I bite my lip and grip the doorway. “Mom?”
She turns, still smiling from the TV, and sees me. “Why are you up? You need to go to bed.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
I look at Ron who laughs at the show. I hate his laugh. It’s like a high-pitched giggle. Then he starts coughing like he’s hacking up a lung because of the smoking he refuses to admit he does.
“Can I talk to you alone?”
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