Blindspot (Daydream, Colorado Book 1)

by A. M. Rose

  “Drew!” he heard Mason call.

  “You can’t break the circle!” Darian warned.

  “But he can’t breathe!” Mason said hysterically. “He can’t breathe! Drew!”

  Another hand pressed to his chest, and Drew felt his ribs bend inwards under the pressure as Malachi poured more magic into him. The spell punished Drew for the intrusion, and Malachi growled, teeth exposed as he poured all his magic into one last effort. With all his force, he pried the spell from Drew’s body, and they both fell back.

  An explosion of black wisps blew outwards like a concussive wave, hitting the sides of the circle and moving up the invisible wall like a wave breaking on a cliff.

  Drew felt… free as he lay there. Like the chains holding him trapped had finally been released. Wholly himself after so long… it had been so long. He smiled, despite the pain, turning his head towards Mason who was crouched on the floor outside the circle, face tearstained, calling to him.

  He couldn’t hear the words as his eyes fluttered shut. He finally felt at peace.

  He could hear the old grandfather clock ticking in the corner of the room. He hated every little click it made because it made the passage of time painfully obvious to him. Time in which Drew was laid on the bed, skin the color of ash and lips almost blue. His breath was shallow and came out in ragged puffs. Other than his chest rising, there was zero movement from him and as the hours went by, Mason got more and more agitated.

  “Anything?” he heard from the door and turned to find Darian, wrapped up in green floral night robe, looking at him with a worried expression and a mug of tea in hand. The healer insisted on them staying the night so he could keep an eye on Drew and intervene if any side-effects cropped up.

  “Not yet,” Mason said, shaking his head. He looked toward the healer, catching the subtle shift of his tattoos under the rolled-up sleeves of his robe. Some of them were wilting, fluttering softly, changing before his eyes. It was strange but it served as a welcome distraction from the anxiety Drew’s stillness was awaking in him.

  “Everything okay?” Mason asked, pointing to a spot on Darian’s arm that was shifting the most.

  “What?” Darian followed his line of sight. “Oh…that. Don’t worry. Life changes during winter. Nature does too. It’s a natural cycle. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh,” Mason said, distraction gone. He ran a tired hand over his face, curling up further into the huge armchair Darian had hauled from the living room.

  “Give him time, Mason. His body just went through a huge trauma. He needs rest,” Darian said, crossing the room and handing him the mug. “It’s chamomile. Soothing. It should help you get some sleep too.”

  “I don’t think anything short of a tranquilizing dart would help me sleep now. But thank you,” he said, taking the mug and sipping the hot tea carefully.

  “I’m gonna water my orchids and retire for the night. Please, call me if anything happens.” Darian clasped his shoulder with a huge palm, and Mason nodded.

  “I will. Thank you, again,” he said, and Darian smiled.

  “No need to thank me. He’s been through a lot. I’m glad I can help,” he said, walking out of the room and leaving Mason alone with his thoughts and his anxiety as he placed the tea on the bedside table to avoid his shaky hands spilling it.

  He couldn’t shake the image of Drew on the floor out of his mind. The screams he let out. The breathless gasps and that final look he gave him before closing his eyes. Mason couldn’t remember the last time he felt that kind of helpless fear. He didn’t think he ever had.

  Watching Drew fight the worst thing that’d ever happened to him and thinking, even for a split second, that he’d lost the fight, was the worst thing Mason had ever witnessed. That moment of absolute silence before Mal released him and broke the circle was the longest second of his life. Feeling the circle break and the suffocating energy disintegrate, Mason had rushed towards Drew, scooping him up in his arms. Tears had been streaming down his face as he screamed at Mal to tell him Drew would be okay. He’d needed to hear it. He’d needed to believe it. Because at that moment, it felt like he had lost Drew for good, and all the time he’d spent without him hadn’t prepared him for it.

  The world without Drew in it was the absolute worst thing Mason could possibly imagine.

  “Please, wake up,” he whispered, lowering his head and placing a gentle kiss on Drew’s knuckles. He rested his forehead against them and closed his eyes. “Come back to me, Drew.”

  “’M here,” he heard a raspy whisper and whipped his head up, his neck clicking uncomfortably, but not caring one bit.

  “Drew!” he gasped and got a heavy groan in response. “Oh my god, Drew, are you okay? Are you hurt? Should I call Darian?”

  He fired the questions off, fingers shaking and brain trying to come up with anything that would be at all helpful in that moment. But he was drawing a blank. He just hovered uselessly, waiting for a single clue from Drew.

  “Tired,” Drew managed to croak out, but he turned his palm around and grasped Mason’s hand in his. His skin was clammy and cold. Mason covered the top of it with his other hand and tried to lend him some of his warmth.

  “I know, I know you are.” Mason nodded rising up from his chair and lifting the mug of tea off the bedside table. “Can you take a sip of this?”

  Drew gave a soft nod and Mason brought the mug towards him, checking the temperature had cooled before tilting it gently to his lips. Drew took a few sips before groaning and dropping his head back to the pillow.

  “Sleep?” he mumbled, and Mason had to kill every instinct he had that pushed him to just ask Drew to stay awake, to talk to him and ease his mind. Drew needed rest. And Mason needed to put his needs first.

  “Yeah. Sleep now,” Mason said, and Drew gave his hand a soft tug.

  “With me?” he asked, pulling Mason towards the bed. He broke his heart with how small he looked, but Mason couldn’t sleep. Someone needed to watch over Drew while he slept. He had to keep Drew safe. And he had to keep his heart safe.

  “I’m right here,” he said, tucking a lock of messy hair behind his ear. “Sleep, Drew.”

  Another gentle tug later and Drew’s hand went slack on the bed, eyes closing and breath evening out finally. Mason settled back into his chair, eyes wide and brain wide awake, as the hours slowly ticked by.

  The sky turned color from pitch black to navy blue, and then finally gentle pinks and purples announced the dawn.

  Darian came in to check on them before heading out to start his day, and when Mason checked his phone after neglecting it in his vigil, he found Mal had sent a text that sounded just as indifferent as everything else he said did. Mason snorted and sent him a short update and received no reply but didn’t take it to heart.

  Honestly, he felt indebted to the witch.

  He’d been in a similar state after the spell removal, magically and physically exhausted and on the verge of passing out. Hawthorne had arrived shortly thereafter to pick him up, and they hadn’t seen him since.

  That done, Mason clicked into the chat he shared with Sage which had about thirty unanswered messages of varying degrees of hysteria. He muttered a quick privacy spell to avoid disturbing Drew before he hit call.

  “Mason! I’ve been worried sick, what happened?!” Sage practically shouted into the receiver.

  Mason winced and pulled the phone away from his ear for a second. “Sorry… things got complicated.”

  “Complicated? It didn’t work?” Sage asked, the worry and disappointment clear in his voice.

  “It worked,” Mason corrected. “It wasn’t easy, though… Drew got hurt, Mal too I think…”

  “Are they okay?” Sage gasped.

  “I think they will be,” he acknowledged, eyes straying to Drew’s slack face. He was starting to drool a little, and Mason smiled, hand pressing to his eyes as he got weirdly emotional. Who the fuck got emotional watching someone drool in their sleep, Jesus.


  “Mason?” Sage asked. Mason realized he’d been talking this whole time.

  “Yeah, sorry…” his voice was tight with emotion and Sage was quiet for a moment.

  “Are you okay?”

  Yes was on the tip of his tongue… but the lie wouldn’t come out. “I don’t know… I should be happy, right? Drew is fine, he has that horrible spell out of him… but…”

  “That means he has no reason to stick around anymore,” Sage finished for him.

  “Yes,” Mason whimpered, the emotion he was feeling finally bubbling up and spilling forwards. Twin tears fell, and he dashed them away. “That’s so selfish of me, I can’t stand it.”

  “Have you... have you talked to Drew about this? You’ve been ‘hanging out’ together… maybe he feels the same way? Did you ask him to stay?”

  The very thought made his heart beat faster. He shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because this place was hell for him! How can I ask him to give up the life he built running away from here? This isn’t the same situation as you and Ben, Sage,” he said when the baker went to protest. He looked at Drew. “It’s better for him if he goes.”

  “Is that a decision you should be making for him?” Sage asked.

  “Yes. He has zero sense of self-preservation,” Mason retorted.

  “But that doesn’t mean—”

  It was at this moment that Drew stirred again, making a sound in the back of his throat. Mason’s attention was fixed on him immediately.

  “I have to go Sage, I’ll call you later,” he said and hung up on Sage’s surprised protest.

  He set his phone aside and dropped the spell before approaching the bed. “Drew?”

  The man made another noise but didn’t wake. Mason sighed. He settled back into his seat and resumed his silent watch over him.

  It was around lunch when Drew shifted in bed again, this time enough to wake properly.

  “Shit,” he groaned, and Mason jumped from his chair, sitting at the edge of the bed and taking his hand. He waited until Drew’s eyes blinked open completely, focusing on Mason as he tried to smile. It looked more like a grimace than anything else.

  “Slowly,” Mason instructed gently, pushing at his shoulder when Drew tried to sit up. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

  “Did… did it work?” Drew asked, voice shaky and tiny drops of sweat forming on his forehead from his earlier attempts to get himself upright.

  “We were waiting for you to wake up to see,” Mason said. “Mal seems to think it should have.”

  “I don’t…I don’t really feel any different,” Drew said, and Mason frowned.

  “I don’t know if it’s gonna feel like anything,” he said.

  “How can I tell then?” Drew asked, and Mason took his hand in his, running his thumb over his knuckles again and spreading his fingers to Drew’s pulse point. Feeling the gentle thrum beneath his fingers was like a symphony. Drew was okay. He was alive and still there with him. Mason didn’t have a timeframe for how long he’d have him, but the soft thump would have to be enough for the moment.

  “You won’t know until you try talking about it,” Mason said. He couldn’t imagine how scary it would be for Drew to try to feel that pain again. To be the first to know that the spell didn’t work if it really hadn’t.

  “Okay, I…” Drew started, but Mason shook his head.

  “We need to have Darian check you over before you try anything.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing. You just woke up. You need to get some strength before you go hurting yourself,” Mason was adamant as he grabbed his phone and called Darian.

  “Mason? Everything okay?” the man answered. Mason could pick up the sound of wind in the receiver.

  “Drew’s awake,” he said, cutting straight to the heart of it.

  “That’s great!” the healer exclaimed. “I’m just tending to the willow by the lake, but I’ll be back as fast as I can to check Drew over. There’s breakfast foods downstairs for you both, I know you probably didn’t eat anything today.”

  Mason could detect the admonishment in his tone, and he flushed. It was probably the first time he had ever forgotten about eating entirely. “Thank you,” he mumbled, his stomach growling in agreement.

  “See you soon.”

  He hung up, looking up to find Drew staring at him, lips pulled into a tight line.

  “He said—”

  “I heard him,” Drew cut him off. “I can’t wait anymore.”

  “Drew…”

  “I can’t.” He fell silent for a moment, his fingers in Mason’s hand trembling, clenching around his small palm. He took deep breaths, and the more time passed without him saying anything, the more Mason wanted to just tell him to forget it and think of another way to check if the spell was truly gone. He never wanted to see Drew hurting again.

  “My parents bought a grimoire,” he said slowly, voice quiet and careful. Mason studied him closely, waiting for any sign of pain.

  “Okay?” he checked.

  Drew nodded, still frowning, but the lines on his forehead looked shallower.

  “Troy stole the grimoire from them,” he said next, and still, Mason saw no reaction from him at the words.

  “Anything?” he asked, slightly breathless, and Drew shook his head, the corners of his lips ticking up just a fraction. Mason felt his heart beat faster in his chest, a mix of absolute joy and that dreadfully selfish feeling of loss making him dizzy.

  “They tried to make me magic,” Drew spat out, voice gaining power and words coming out faster now. “They put spells on me to stop me from saying it. They did it for years. They hurt me so much… I hate them. I hate them. I hate them…”

  He broke down in tears and Mason gasped, crawling on the bed until he had Drew’s head tucked into his neck, arms wrapped around his shaking shoulders as he let out all the pain and frustration he had been carrying for years.

  “Shhhh,” he soothed, placing tiny kisses wherever he could. “It’s over now.”

  Drew clung to him, tears washing out the ugliness and leaving a blank slate that waited to be filled with all the amazing things that awaited Drew in his new life. A life that, most likely, had no room for Mason in it. He stroked Drew’s hair, inhaling his scent, doing his best to embed it into his skin for safekeeping.

  Because he knew, going forward, it wouldn’t be his to keep anymore. Drew belonged to a place and a person, far away from Daydream, from magic and from Mason.

  He allowed Drew to find comfort in him, this one last time. Mason found none, however.

  “I can’t believe it’s finally over,” Drew said after the storm had passed, looking up. The look of joy so pure on his tearstained face floored Mason. He thought he had seen Drew happy before. But he had never seen this before. Drew looked alive. All trace of exhaustion, pain and fear completely gone. Erased. Hopefully for good.

  “I’m happy for you,” he said. He wasn’t sure if Drew was picking up just how flat his words sounded. He hoped he didn’t notice. The last thing Mason wanted was to ruin the most important moment for Drew.

  “It’s been so long. And I genuinely thought it would always be there. I’m free, Mason. Completely free!” He fist-pumped the air, and as heartbroken as Mason felt, he couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped at how cute Drew looked.

  “You are. What are you gonna do now?” Mason asked and Drew sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked ready to break into a dance right on the spot, energy radiating off of him.

  “God… everything! Live, enjoy, do things I actually enjoy doing, go back to being me, no magic attached,” he listed, voice getting more and more giddy with every point, and suddenly Mason felt like it was too much.

  Everything Drew listed sounded amazing, and Mason wanted all of those things for him. But he couldn’t help but hear the underlined text. I’m going to live the life I created, going to be non-magic, going to be away from you. />
  The fear he felt as he watched the spell lift was coming true, but not the way Mason originally thought. Drew was alive and okay. But he was one foot out of Daydream, and he was really losing him.

  “I should get going,” he said suddenly, dropping Drew’s hand and standing up.

  “What, Mason…”

  He looked blindsided by confusion.

  “Do you need a ride home?” he asked, ignoring those eyes, picking up his phone and stuffing it in his pocket. He was having trouble breathing, and the sooner he got away from there, the sooner he could allow himself to break.

  “Darian said he wanted to check me over one more time… Mason…” Drew reached for him, but he pulled back and cradled his hand to his chest.

  “I promised Orson I’d help clean out his garage. I really should go,” he lied utterly unconvincingly, turning away and heading for the door.

  “Mason…” Drew tried again, standing too, but Mason was already halfway to the door.

  “I’m really happy for you, Drew. You’re gonna have a great life now, finally. One that you deserve,” he said, and then he was out the door, running down the stairs and to his car. He jumped in, ignoring Drew calling out his name. He ignored the questioning look Darian sent his way as he stood on the front lawn with a pile of firewood in his arms. But most of all, he ignored his heart breaking in his chest.

  Leaving first was better than being left behind.

  “Everything okay?” Darian asked as he entered the house with an armful of firewood, looking towards Drew who was glued to his spot at the top of the stairs. His eyes were still locked onto the spot outside the window Mason’s car just peeled out from.

  He was gripping the railing so tight his knuckles turned white, and he was doing his best to remain upright. And the weird part was, it wasn’t even because the last shadows of the spell made him feel weak and breakable. It was Mason and the storm he left in his wake.

  His head was spinning.

  What the fuck happened? They were fine, weren’t they?

  For days now, they had been existing in their own little bubble of friends-but-not-really, and now that Drew was finally free… now that he could actually give Mason everything he had owed him, Mason was gone.