by L. Danvers
The images didn’t bother me as much as the look of pure disassociation on Julian’s face. Like he couldn’t bear to feel, so he was swallowing his emotions instead.
Water-dropping helicopters appeared on the screen, and I watched in amazement as crews worked tirelessly to put out the blaze. From what I could tell, it didn’t look like the fire had spread too far from the castle grounds yet. I hoped they could contain it.
The same reporter we’d seen earlier in the evening was now reporting live from Crescent Cape. Julian turned up the volume. “This just in—I can now confirm that everyone sent inside the castle has been accounted for. I repeat, everyone has been accounted for. I’m told a few of them sustained minor injuries and are being treated for smoke inhalation, but there were no casualties. Yet, we still don’t have any answers about whoever may have been living here,” he said ominously, glancing over his shoulder at the burning structure in the distance. “Authorities have not commented yet on whether anyone else was inside at the time the fire started...”
I collapsed against the back of the couch. It felt like I’d been being held with my head underwater for the past hour, and now I could breathe.
They were okay. The humans—all of them—were okay.
Whatever inner strength I’d been using to keep my emotions in check up until that point faltered, and it all hit me at once. Every little detail from the second we learned about the boundary coming down until now played over in my mind’s eye. And I felt all of it.
But I also felt the assuring warmth of Julian’s arm wrapping around me.
“You’re strong, Danielle, and I love that about you,” he said in a low voice. “But with me, you don’t have to be.”
Between sobs, I managed to say, “Same goes for you.” But I wasn’t sure if he heard me being as that my face was currently buried in his chest. There was so much more that I wanted to say, but my emotions were wrestling like wild animals inside, clawing their way out of me. And I couldn’t contain them any longer.
I thought I heard Julian sniffle, too.
I don’t know how long I stayed there wrapped up in his arms. Two hours? Fifteen minutes? It was impossible to know. It felt like I’d been crying for days. But I was sure it hadn’t been that long.
Once I calmed down, I pulled away, holding his hands in mine. My eyebrows drew together. “Julian, what happens next?”
He looked up as if he were trying to find the answer in the air. Didn’t supernaturals have some sort of contingency plan? In hindsight, they should have. Maybe after hundreds upon hundreds of years in the shadows, though, they got comfortable. Didn’t think they needed one.
While I waited for an answer, the TV caught my eye. I’d forgotten it was even on. Julian must have turned the volume down while I was... processing everything.
Julian let out a long breath. “There are a few ways things could go. If we’re lucky, we get out of this unscathed. Start new lives. Blend in.”
My head tilted. “What are the other ways things could go?”
“Well, if supernaturals are outed, there are two options they’ll have: assimilate or fight.”
I pressed my lips into a hard line. “I take it that you don’t think they’ll all be willing to act normal, for lack of a better word?”
He shook his head.
“And then what?” I pressed.
“That’s the question. Yes, supernaturals possess powers that the humans don’t. But there are a lot more of them than there are of us. And I’m betting they won’t take kindly to learning that there are beings higher on the food chain than them. My guess is that the humans will feel threatened. Ostracize us. Kill us. Or worse, capture us. Experiment on us. Use us.”
I held up my hand, regretting ever asking. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
He stared at me for a minute or two, hardly blinking.
“This isn’t going to end well for anyone, is it?”
“It’s impossible to know for sure,” he said.
“But if you had to guess?”
He lowered his voice. “I don’t think vampires, werewolves, hybrids and witches were meant to live happily ever after.”
NO LONGER IN THE MOOD to watch the news, we flipped through the channels. There were shows about remodeling homes, about extreme makeovers, about nothing at all. It all seemed so trivial given the evening’s events.
I shifted over, now facing Julian as I propped my chin on my hand. “Do you think it’s safe for Aiden and Victoria to be around us, now that he’s human again?”
Julian’s eyebrow lifted. “You’re seriously concerned about him?”
I nodded.
“You do remember that he tried to dagger you earlier today, right?”
I checked the time. “Yesterday, actually. And,” I started with a sigh, “I’m not mad at him. I know he was only trying to protect Xander.”
Julian dipped his head, understanding. We had talked about this briefly already in the few hours of peace we’d enjoyed before the world as we knew it fell apart.
“Plus,” I added, “he’s your brother. And I know that, despite all of your differences, you want what’s best for him. And with everything going on, I wonder if being around us is really what’s best. This isn’t his fight anymore. And it’s certainly not Victoria’s.” Julian’s lip twitched at the sound of her name. I knew how guilty he felt for being the one who had killed her all those years ago. “I don’t think they’ll make that decision on their own,” I continued. “They’re loyal to your family. They’ll want to stay.”
“But as long as they’re around us, they’ll be associated with us.”
“Exactly.”
Julian rubbed his brow. “You’re right,” he said. “You always are.”
“Not always.” I jokingly swatted his arm.
He arched his brow skeptically.
“Okay, most of the time.” I winked.
He let out a laugh. “We’ll talk to them about it first thing in the morning.”
We must have sat on that couch talking for another hour or two before the sweet siren of slumber called to us. The last thing I remembered was resting my head on his chest before I slipped away into a world of nightmares.
Grace
Startling at a knock at my door, I rubbed my bloodshot eyes. They were heavy, but I couldn’t sleep. Not after the day I’d had.
I propped myself up on my elbows. “Come in.”
Xander slipped inside the room. Tilting his head to the side, he said, “I take it you can’t sleep, either?”
I shook my head. “What are you doing here?”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, and I hugged my arms around my knees as I made extra room for him. “Can’t a guy just want to talk?”
My eyebrows knitted. “I... uh...”
He chuckled. “Relax, Grace. Don’t make this weird. I didn’t come here to chit-chat.”
I pursed my lips, both relieved and annoyed. “Then why did you come here?’
He handed over his phone. “Your brother has been texting and calling non-stop for the past hour.”
I took the smartphone from his hands and scrolled through the text messages Nick had sent. He was panicked. He’d seen the footage of the fire on TV and wanted to know if I was okay. I side-eyed Xander. “Why didn’t you text him back and let him know I was fine?”
He shrugged ambivalently. “It was more fun to make him wait.”
“You’re a jerk sometimes. You know that, right?”
He winked. “It’s part of my charm.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to give him a call.”
Xander reclined on the bed, cradling the back of his head in his hands. “Be my guest.”
I nudged him with my foot—okay, I kind of kicked him.
“Hey!”
“Get out,” I said, shooing him with a few flicks of my hand.
“Oh, come on. I want to hear what he has to say. It’s my phone.”
With the lift of
my hand, the bedroom door blew back open. Xander gaped and held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just bring it back when you’re done.”
I didn’t give him the benefit of acknowledging his request. Instead, when he was halfway out the door, I put my hand down, and the door shut on him.
Nerves tingling, I called Nick. I chewed my thumbnail while the phone rang. Finally, he answered. “Grace? Is this you?”
“Nick,” I said, feeling relieved. It was strange how comforting I found his voice to be. Maybe it was a twin thing. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. Xander told me that you’d been calling.”
“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Are you alright? Please tell me you made it out of Crescent Cape.”
“I did. What about you and the rest of the coven? Are you still in the compound?” I sat up straighter and pulled the pillow into my lap, hugging it tightly.
“No,” he laughed. “We’re not stupid.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Right.” A knot was forming in the pit of my belly, hardening by the second. There was something that had been on my mind ever since we first learned of the boundary dropping. I hated to ask him because I didn’t know how to phrase it without it coming off like I was accusing him. But still, I had to know. Needed to know. “Hey, uh, you wouldn’t know anything about what happened to the boundary, would you?”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems strange that Reed got his hands on a Silverleaf sapling, which is known to be used for performing counterspells, and then the boundary went down.”
He went quiet for a moment.
My jaw set. “Nick?”
“The Albrights are the ones who cast the boundary spell in the first place. Only a witch from the same bloodline as the person who cast the spell can undo it.”
The tension that had been building up inside of me released. He had a point. Unless...
No. He wouldn’t go that far, would he?
Yes. He totally would.
I stood and paced the room, stroking the front of my throat. “Nick, please tell me he didn’t force one of the Albright witches to perform the counterspell.”
Silence.
“Should I take your silence as a yes?”
He released a breath. “You’re too smart,” he said, defeated.
“You didn’t help him, did you?”
“I didn’t have a choice. You try standing up to our dad. It’s impossible.”
Crawling sensations skirted up my arms and across my chest. “Nick, don’t you have any idea what you’ve done?” I shook my head. “Why would Reed do such a thing anyway? What could he possibly gain by lowering the boundary?”
Nick cleared his throat. “He doesn’t want to hide anymore. He thinks witches should be able to live out in the open. Not be ashamed of what we are.”
I came to a stop. “And do you agree with him?”
“I... I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out if he’s right soon enough.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Grace, Crescent Cape isn’t the only kingdom with a boundary.”
“He couldn’t have lowered them all, could he?”
He laughed. “No. But he does have many allies. And he and Phoebe have been scheming together for ages.”
“Are you telling me—?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say that in the coming days, more kingdoms will be revealed.”
My knees buckled, and I placed my hand on the dresser to steady myself. What had they done? My head was spinning like one of those dizzying carnival rides—the kind that someone inevitably gets sick on. “Nick, I—”
“Hold that thought,” he said abruptly in a hushed voice. “Looks like some of the guys are outside of my hotel room. I gotta get going. I, uh, know this was a lot. But I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah.”
“And Grace?”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t hate me.”
There was a jumble of noises coming from the other end. Garbled sounds rang through the microphone until an eerily calm voice spoke. “So, Grace, is it?”
My shoulders squared. It was Reed.
“Hi, Pops,” I said sarcastically.
“So, it seems you and Nick neglected to heed my warning about staying away from one another.”
I didn’t answer.
“And,” he continued, “seeing as that you’re on the phone, I take it you weren’t in the castle when it burned.”
A lump settled in my throat, and I forced it down.
“You’re like a pesky little infection, aren’t you? You refuse to go away. Well, no matter. If you’re alive, I take it your little vampire friends are, too.”
“Cut to the chase, Reed. Why are you even speaking to me?”
“Life is all about choices. And now, I’m offering one to you: leave the bloodsuckers and save yourself—or die along with them. Because mark my words, I will rid this world of the plague that is their kind. And if I have to take you down along with them, then so be it.”
I heard Nick’s voice in the background, but it was quickly stifled.
With a sinister air in his tone, Reed muttered, “Goodbye, Grace.”
With those words, the call ended. I stared down at the screen, dumbfounded. I wanted to hurl the stupid phone across the room, but since it didn’t belong to me, I threw it on the bed instead with a grunt.
I’d expected nothing less from Reed.
But Nick?
I didn’t hate my brother. At least, I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t help but wonder if Reed’s ludicrous prophecy might have some merit to it. Nick and I were two totally different people. I never would have helped Reed. I never would have put so many people in danger.
I planted my hands on my hips, breathing heavily. Maybe it wasn’t fair for me to judge Nick. He was raised by that man. Maybe he didn’t know any better. Or even if he did, maybe he was too afraid to stand up to him.
I wanted to give my brother the benefit of the doubt. But the problem was that it wasn’t just the vampires who were at risk of being discovered. It was every supernatural being—including witches.
Couldn’t Nick see that he was putting his own kind in harm’s way?
Couldn’t Reed? Maybe he didn’t care.
The doorknob turned. This time, Xander hadn’t bothered knocking. “Everything okay in here?” he asked, giving me the once-over, picking up on the fact that everything was not okay. “What happened?”
Where to begin?
I plopped down on the edge of the bed, burying my face in my palms. “Reed’s the one who brought down the boundary.”
The mattress dipped a little as Xander seated himself beside me. “That’s not all that surprising, is it?”
I lifted my face, revealing my slackened features. “My brother helped him do it. Actually—get this—he helped him force an Albright witch to do it.” I shivered. “I don’t even want to know what they must have done to that poor woman.”
Xander swallowed. “What’s done is done. We all made it out of there. And thanks to you, no one knows we were there.”
I nodded. I guess that was something.
“And we’ll deal with the rest as it comes,” he said, forcing an assuring grin.
“Speaking of the rest,” I started, “there’s more...”
His eyes lit with intrigue. “Oh?”
“Reed intercepted the end of the call. He threatened you and your siblings. And me. He said he’d rid the world of you—and me, too, if I continued hanging around.”
“Don’t tell me you’re planning to ditch us now?”
“Of course not.”
Xander dismissed the threat with a wave. “I’m not worried about your old man.”
I hardened my gaze. “You should be.”
Xander sighed. Batting his dark lashes, he asked, “Anything else on your mind?”
“Yes, actually. Nick doesn’t know for sure, but he thinks more boundari
es will be coming down.”
“You mean from other kingdoms?”
“Yeah. He said Reed and Phoebe had been conspiring for a while. And I guess they have ways of getting people to do what they want.” I shrugged. “Or maybe there are other witches just as deranged as they are.” I looked over at Xander, waiting for him to chime in. But he only sat there. Studying me. “What’s wrong?”
He fiddled with his bracelet for a second before pushing his dark hair away from his eyes. “It’s getting late, and you need sleep. You look—”
“I suggest you don’t finish the rest of that sentence.”
He smirked. “I was going to say tired. In the past day, you saved both me and Danielle. And set an entire castle ablaze. You’re running on empty.”
“I’m aware of that,” I said flatly. “But I think you can understand why I’m having a hard time relaxing.”
He nodded in agreement. “I can help with that. Compel you to sleep, if you want.”
I shook my head. “Please don’t ever offer to compel me again.” I’d been compelled enough times in my life already. I wasn’t about to willingly let a vampire do it to me again. I trusted Xander and all, but still...
Everything going on right now was real. Painful, but real.
And I needed to feel it.
Xander started to get up, but before he did, I grabbed his arm. “Thank you for helping me earlier.”
“You mean the blood?” he asked. “Don’t mention it. I owe you, remember?” He raised his wrist and gestured toward the bracelet.
“You don’t owe me anything. Really. I can’t even describe how awful I felt after the fire. The smoke was... anyway, you saved me back there. So, thanks.”
He stuffed his hand in his pocket. “You save me, I save you. It’s kind of our thing now.”
It was so stupid I couldn’t help but laugh. “We don’t have a thing.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Grace.”
Danielle
Ben was sliding the remaining scrambled eggs from the skillet to a plate, which was already piled high with pancakes, bacon and blueberries, when Julian and I wandered into the kitchen. Hearing us, Ben glanced over his shoulder. “Come on in and grab a seat,” he said. “I’ll have some more eggs ready in a few minutes.”
