Beautiful nightmares, p.49
Beautiful Nightmares, page 49
A soft laugh slipped out of me. I dodged a swipe of the tiny creature’s paw. “Why? Where are you going, by the way?”
“Work. I got a job at the clinic in town. Just a front desk thing, but it has me thinking I might go back to school. Major in nursing.” Damon shrugged.
I gaped at him, then cast an exaggerated glance around me. “How long was I gone?”
“You’re hilarious. Oh, and the name thing. I was trying to teach Matthew how to say ‘hello,’ but he got confused, and he decided that was the word for kitten, I think. Or maybe he just couldn’t get enough of greeting her, I don’t know. By the time he stopped, we’d all started calling the cat Hello. Now he responds to it. So… sorry about that.”
The name struck a chord inside me, and I was so distracted that I didn’t respond. Damon propped Matthew on his hip again, preparing to leave while my mind went back to that conversation with Collith for the second time since waking up. There are many things I cannot promise, because we live in a world of variables. Anything I can promise, though, I do so gladly. My home, my life, my heart. I will never tell you goodbye, because I will never leave you. I will give you a life of hellos, Fortuna Sworn.
I blinked the memory back and realized that my brother had opened the door.
“Damon,” I said. He turned back, still holding Matthew in his arms. Standing there, Damon resembled our father so strongly that an ache filled my heart. I strove to hide it as I told him, “I think that’s a great idea. The nursing program, I mean. You’d be really good at it.”
Damon paused, giving me a look I couldn’t decipher. “Thanks, Tuna Fish. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Yeah. See you tonight.” The kitten—Hello, I corrected myself silently—mewled and wriggled, frantic to be free again. I bent to return her to the floor. She darted across the room like the devil was chasing her. I hopped off the stool, too, thinking I’d load the dishwasher before Emma finished with her shower.
That was when I noticed Damon had stopped again. I assumed he’d forgotten something, and I rounded the island without comment. His voice floated to me at the same moment I removed a plastic, child-sized plate from the sink. “I’m really glad you’re back,” he said.
Startled, I turned to meet my brother’s gaze. Part of me was terrified this was another one of Belanor’s tricks, or it was a dream I’d wake up from soon. “Me, too,” I managed.
Probably sensing my fear, Damon offered a parting smile. I found myself staring for a different reason entirely, now. Because it was the smile he used to give me, back when everything was simpler. Before we’d gone beneath the ground and reemerged from the darkness with terrible scars. The curve of his lips was a soft and crooked thing, full of fondness and shared history. The image etched onto my mind like a tattoo. It made me remember the day I’d gotten in my car and found Damon sitting in the passenger seat. We made a promise, remember?
At that moment, I knew that my brother had forgiven me. I didn’t regret what I’d done, and maybe Damon didn’t regret it anymore, either. Forgiveness had been given, nonetheless. The shadows and ghosts that Jassin had put between us were finally gone, and over time, his terrible legacy would fade into nothing. Just as he deserved.
The door closed behind Damon with a gentle sound, and suddenly I was grateful he and Matthew were gone—if they’d lingered, they would’ve seen my tears. I roughly wiped them away with the heels of my hands.
I hadn’t cried this much since I was a child. It was like I’d been moving through life as a dragon, covered in a hard exterior, breathing fire at every threat. Then Belanor had come along and ripped off every scale, one by one, and doused the flames inside me. Now water and sorrow were all that remained.
With a shuddering breath, I faced the empty loft. I could hear Emma in the bathroom, singing a Pink Floyd song at the top of her lungs. God, she was bad. The beginnings of a smile began at the corners of my mouth… until I looked toward that bedroom again. Another memory of Collith flickered, like an old television coming into focus.
Please forgive me. Please.
The echoes of his voice faded just as a sound came from down the hall. It was a faint smattering, of sorts, like there was a small creature trapped within the walls, scratching to get out. Swiping at my eyes again, I followed it into the laundry room.
I found the source of the noise instantly. Hearing my footsteps, Hello poked her head out from the hole in her pink, plastic box. The floor was covered in gray cat litter. The kitten looked at me with wide eyes, bright with innocence. “Little beast,” I muttered.
There was a broom tucked next to the washer. Eager for distractions, desperate to stay busy, I tended to the litter box. After that, I started a load of laundry. Once the machine’s low hum filled the loft, I finished loading the dishwasher. I pushed the door shut, and a second later I heard Emma turn the shower off. Spinning, I leaned against the edge of the counter to contemplate what I could do next.
The stillness sent me into a strange panic. I knew that if I stayed here, and we spent the day together, Emma wouldn’t ask questions. That wasn’t her way. But I wouldn’t be able to hide the effects of what Belanor had done, either. I wouldn’t be able to avoid thoughts of Collith and how that hole in the wall had come to be. Emma would see my pain. And sometimes, pain was too raw, too fresh to be observed.
So I rushed to the hooks on the wall, snatched the van keys, and fled down the stairs. I didn’t even think to put on a coat.
Outside, the cold sank into my skin with the brutality of a thousand needles. Only my Fallen blood kept me from shivering or faltering. I made a beeline for the van, looking around as I went. There was still no sign of Finn, and Lyari hadn’t made a reappearance, either. I couldn’t wait for them.
The moment I got into the vehicle I’d inherited from the goblins, I cranked up the volume on the stereo. Music battered at my eardrums. Throwing the gear into reverse, I tore down the driveway in a spew of gravel and noise.
Ten minutes later, I was in town. Keeping my promise to Nym, my first stop was at an antique store. I picked out a clock that looked like it was meant for a mantle, its outside made of oak wood. Its ticking was inaudible, a detail I liked, for some reason. I put my purchase in the van and headed for Bea’s.
The warmth enveloped me like an embrace, and as I wiped my feet on the rug, it suddenly felt easier to breathe. To exist without the ever-constant urge to cry. Exhaling, I pocketed the van keys and walked up to the bar, feeling more like myself with every step. Here, I knew the smells and the faces as if they were part of me. Here, most of the memories were safe and mundane. There were also distractions in abundance. I rested my hands on the counter and turned, taking in the familiar setting. Angela walked past the row of booths holding a coffee pot in each hand, looking harassed as ever.
“Seat yourself,” she said in passing. There was no glimmer of recognition in her face, and it took me a few seconds to remember that I wore a magical disguise. My co-worker had looked at me and seen the plain-faced stranger I’d met in the mirror last night.
Five minutes, I told myself. I’d take off the ring for five minutes, long enough to find Bea and explain everything. Fear trickled through my veins at the thought of putting her in danger. It had only been a day since I’d torn Belanor’s mind to shreds, though—if he did manage to heal and awaken, it would take much longer than that.
No one had noticed me standing there yet. I took a breath and slid the ring up my finger, then pocketed it.
“Fortuna?”
Hearing this, I put my back to the main room, tucking the ring away. A smile had already stretched across my face. “Hey, Gretchen.”
The kind-eyed human circled the counter to reach me. Like Emma, Gretchen’s small stature didn’t affect the strength of her arms. She pulled me close and made a happy sound. “Danny mentioned you were back! I had to stop Bea from driving over there in the middle of the night. We figured you’d need some time to recuperate. It’s so good to see you, sweetheart.”
Shit, I thought. I should’ve mentioned to Danny that I’d been hoping to keep my return quiet.
“What is…” I started. Gretchen released me, leaning back to see my face, and I hesitated. “What is everyone saying? About where I’ve been?”
Bea’s partner moved to get back behind the bar, speaking as she went, “All we knew was that there was an attack on the hospital. No one was killed, thankfully, but there were several people injured and it looked as though you’d been taken. Now that you’re back, I’m sure the sheriff will want to ask some questions. Don’t worry, though, all of that can be dealt with later. For now, you look like you could use a hot meal and some coffee.”
“Thanks, Gretchen. I just ate, but coffee sounds great.”
“Coming right up.” She beamed and moved to get a mug.
At that moment, a figure swept out of the hallway that led to the back. I blinked when I realized it was Ariel. Carrying fresh plates of food, she bustled between the rows of tables as if she’d been doing it her entire life. No one in this bar would ever guess that she’d been playing the part of a human for months, rather than years. Her glamour was firmly in place, and it was flawless. To any mortal eye, Ariel looked like an ordinary girl with dark hair, smooth brown skin, and a delicate frame. Only I knew that the confidence of her movements was due to the grace of the fae, and the subtle muscles in her arms were from hours of training with a sword.
Why was she still here? Hadn’t anyone told her about the coup?
I was about to get her attention when Bea appeared at the far end of the bar. She said something to Gretchen, the words hushed so no customers would hear. Her features were pale and haggard. I truly had been intending to tell my boss the truth about me, especially after the cherubim had destroyed this place and forced her to shut down for repairs. Seeing her now, I knew I couldn’t. Not today, at least. Bea already had enough on her mind—she didn’t need the monumental weight of learning that an entire supernatural world existed alongside her own, unseen and deadly.
If you don’t tell her now, when will you? a pitiless inner voice challenged. Tomorrow? Next week? By then, it may be too late.
Providing yet another welcome distraction, Ariel set an empty tray on the counter and finally noticed me.
“Fortuna! You’re back!” she exclaimed, rushing to hug me. Her scent assailed my senses. Wildflowers, I thought.
As she pulled away, I glanced at Gretchen and lowered my voice. “No offense, but why are you still here? The person who ordered you to watch over me isn’t exactly in charge anymore.”
“I swore a vow of fealty to Collith,” Ariel said matter-of-factly. “He is not dead. Until then, I will carry out his orders.”
The stubborn light in her eyes reminded me of Lyari. I studied her, and for some reason, I chose that moment to remember Belanor’s threat. If he woke up, he’d kill everyone on the path to his prized Nightmare, and not just the people closest to me. He’d kill Ariel, this small faerie with the bounce in her step and a smile always at the ready. A faerie who, like so many others I’d met recently, possessed loyalty in her heart, along with the usual dark things that lived inside all of us.
I couldn’t let that happen. I needed a better plan than depending on a goblin’s bespelled ring.
“Is he okay?”
Ariel’s question drew me out of my silent, anxious spiral. I followed her gaze and spotted Finn, my eyebrows going up in surprise. Not on a hunt after all, then.
The werewolf sat at the table next to the window. Bea’s name was stickered across its length, casting the letters onto the sun-brightened surface Finn rested his elbows on. He stared through the glass, out at the street, as if he saw something the rest of us didn’t. There was something striking about him, an allure I couldn’t put my finger on. Maybe it was his broad shoulders, or the quiet strength that emanated from his eyes. I could understand, suddenly, why he’d caught Ariel’s interest. And maybe more, if the way her gaze lingered on him was any indication.
Love was so cruel. There Ariel was, ardently watching Finn, while Cyrus cast longing glances at her every time she passed his line of sight.
As I turned back to her, I realized that Ariel probably hadn’t heard about the events from the past few weeks. Especially if she hadn’t been back to Court in a while. Did she know her king was free?
Before I could ask her, someone called the faerie’s name. “Shoot,” she muttered.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Go. We’ll talk later.”
Ariel shot me a parting smile, waggled her fingers, and hurried away. I watched her go, reaching into my pocket for the ring.
When Bea’s eyes flicked toward me, she only saw a stranger holding a cup of coffee.
Ignoring the whisper of regret that went through me, I walked over to Finn. I suppressed a sigh at the sight of Regina Hart, Granby’s local gossip. She stood next to the table Finn had claimed, so focused on him that she didn’t realize they were no longer alone. She wore a pink jumpsuit and clutched a beer in one hand. It was barely nine o’clock, but details like that had never mattered to Regina. “…must say, you have such beautiful eyes,” she was saying, batting her eyelashes.
“They’re colored contacts,” I offered, setting my coffee down. Regina was so startled that she visibly jumped.
“Oh.” Her gaze moved between us, evaluating, appraising. “Of course. Should’ve known—no one has gold eyes like that. I’m Regina, by the way. How do you two know each other? Are you here for a visit or just passing through?”
My tone became airy. “I’m here for a visit, yes. Not sure how long, but Finn has made me so comfortable that I may never want to leave. Oh, as for how we know each other, I’m just using him for his body. Chains, whips, that sort of thing. You probably won’t see much of me, honestly. We’ll be pretty tied up, if you know what I mean.”
I winked, and I knew if Collith had been there, he would’ve done one of his small sighs. Regina’s mouth was pinched, her brow furrowed. She probably didn’t know whether or not to believe me, especially considering I hadn’t given a name. “Well, welcome to Granby,” she said.
“Thanks!” I gave her an exaggerated, toothy grin. Regina stared at me for another moment, as though she were trying to decide if I was mocking her. Slowly, she turned and walked off. I settled onto the chair across from Finn. “That should keep her busy for a while.”
He didn’t respond. He also didn’t turn his head or greet me. I considered asking him why he’d come here, but a quiet instinct urged me not to. Instead, I took a sip of coffee and reveled in the sweet taste. A moment later, Ariel’s laugh tinkled through the air. I pictured the way she’d looked at Finn, and for the first time, I wondered if there was any possibility of that interest being reciprocated.
“Do you ever think about remarrying?” I asked without preamble, angling my body toward Finn again.
He didn’t take any time to think about his answer. “No.”
I wanted to know why, but I still didn’t want to push him, either. If I knew one thing about this werewolf, it was that he only spoke when he was ready. We were alike in that way. Thinking the conversation was over, I brought the mug to my lips again. My attention darted back to Finn when he continued, “I will never love anyone the way I loved Amelia. It wouldn’t be fair to a new mate.”
Amelia. I’d never heard him say her name before. I waited for Finn to go on, but then someone passed the window next to us, and a change stole over my friend that I’d never seen before. He came alive, his spine straightening from the force of the emotion I saw in his face. Our conversation forgotten, I followed the werewolf’s gaze.
The person that had caught his attention was Phil’s daughter, Amy. Finn had saved her from the cherubim the night they attacked Bea’s. She was obviously late for school—a backpack thumped against her gangly body, and her corkscrew curls billowed around her anxious expression in what looked like a frigid gust of wind. Finn watched the girl hurry by, his eyebrows drawn together. His mouth was tight.
Pain, I thought. Seeing that girl caused him pain. Maybe his daughter would have been the same age, if she were alive, or they bore a resemblance to each other.
All at once, I knew this was the reason Finn was at Bea’s. I wondered how many other mornings he’d sat here, waiting and hoping to catch a glimpse of Amy. Every time he wasn’t at the house, I’d just assumed he was off hunting or running. Oh, Finn. I felt the werewolf’s grief as acutely as my own, and it deepened my understanding of him. He came here because, for the handful of seconds Phil’s daughter appeared, Finn could pretend that she was his daughter. His child. She’d been ripped away from him by violence and fear.
Amy was gone now. I refocused on Finn, at a loss for words. I knew from personal experience that there wasn’t anything I could say, in any language, to close the invisible hole in his chest.
Still turned toward the window, Finn gripped the edge of the table. The skin on his arms began to bubble. Alarm blazed through me, and the heat became an inferno when I saw that he’d started shaking, as well. Was he about to shift in the middle of the bar? In front of all these people?
Without thinking, I reached across and put my hands over his. Though the touch seemed to calm Finn, his body going still, my power ran unchecked. Flavors and phobias came at me, along with all the rest. I caught a glimpse of that final, terror-filled memory. A door bursting open. Windows shattering. Gunshots sounding. Then Finn’s agonized cry echoed across time, and I felt his terror as if she had died yesterday. Katie!
He’d carried her through the woods, her lifeblood staining his hands and his shirt. Beneath a wide moon and a starless sky, Finn spoke to his daughter in low, urgent tones, trying to keep her awake while he tracked Astrid’s pack. Every once in a while, he remembered that his mate was dead and he’d been forced to leave her body behind. He couldn’t lose Katie, too. The thought made him look back down at her heart-shaped face and the bleak cycle began again. “Look at me, baby. Stay with me. Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart, don’t fall asleep.”
