“We could talk to my dad,” Brent said, scooting closer to me on the bed. “He called again this morning.”
“No.” I put my hand over his. “Involving your dad is a bad idea. We can’t trust him.”
Brent’s posture wilted. “I know.”
“But why exactly did Crosby mess with Mr. Farnsworth’s memories?” I asked, turning back to Vovó. “Just to get access to Pendrell? To erase all of his information on the Clutch, or is there something more?”
Vovó shook her head. “In all the ways that count, it does not matter. All that matters is that Crosby is doing it.”
“There’s something else. “ Cherie looked up from her laptop.
The seriousness in her voice made my stomach tighten. “What?”
“I found Velasco.” She didn’t sound happy about it.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Brent asked.
Cherie shook her head. “Not really; she was killed in a car accident.”
“What?” I leaned on my side so I could see the computer screen. “When?”
I got a brief glimpse of a mangled car before Cherie clicked away from the page.
“Hold on; let me check something.” Cherie furiously tapped on her keyboard, her expression growing grim. She inhaled sharply. “Her accident was the same day as Roberts’ accident. It’s also same day you were attacked.”
“Probably the same day I was murdered.” DJ’s voice made me jump. I had been so wrapped up in Cherie’s discovery I hadn’t even noticed he had materialized in the room. “And the day that Janette lady was too.”
I relayed DJ’s insight to the others.
“Do you remember anything about how you died?” Vovó asked DJ.
He shook his head. “No.”
Brent leaned back on the bed, resting on his elbows. “It sounds like that was Crosby’s day to wipe out his enemies. But why that day? Did something change?”
Cherie grunted. “Not as far as I can tell. But something must have happened.”
Brent flopped flat onto the bed. “Maybe he figured out how to make his mind erasing thing work?”
“Maybe,” DJ said. “But I doubt it’s perfected. If it worked so well, he could’ve used it on the police detectives or even Yara.”
“So you think something happened he didn’t like?” Vovó asked, once again filling her tablets with herbs.
DJ jerked his head. “Yeah. I like to think it was me who rocked the boat.”
“No idea what you did?” I asked.
“Not a clue, but I’d like to think I did something worth dying for,” DJ said with a smirk.
Despite DJ’s boast, I didn’t know what had triggered Crosby’s killing spree, but I did have a terrifying theory that Crosby could selectively erase people’s memories. The sun dipped low in the sky and bathed the gold of Vovó’s room in pink.
“I think we need to all start keeping journals,” Cherie said. “Write down everything that’s happened and what we suspect. We’ll keep copies in different locations. That way even if Crosby steals our memories we won’t lose everything.”
“I always knew you were brilliant, Cherie.” I grinned. “I’ll be right back.”
I jumped from the bed and ran to my room. After rummaging in my desk, I pulled out some old spiral notebooks, pens, and pencils, which I carried back to everyone else.
Steve had joined the group and was getting caught up on what we’d learned.
“I say we keep some of them in non-electronic forms,” I told them. “I’d be more willing to believe something written in my own handwriting than a computer file.”
I passed out the notebooks and we all started writing. As I took notes on everything I could remember, I wondered what would happen if all I could remember was what I journaled here. Hands shaking just a little, I added in personal details about my life, like how much each person in this room meant to me.
A quick glance at Brent and my heart skipped a beat. I bit on the end of my pencil. How could I put into words my feelings for him? His smile that melted me like hot wax, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Words wouldn’t be enough, but I had to try. Someday, they might be my only link to the past.
Vovó and I were watching an episode of the Amazing Race when Brent stopped by. He held up an empty jar we used to hold his medicine.
“I need another refill.”
I stared in horror at the empty container. It should have been enough to last a month at least. I had just given it to him a week ago. “You finished it.”
Brent ducked his head. “I know.”
Vovó clicked off the TV and took the jar. “Is it still working?”
Brent met my eyes for a moment and shook his head.
“Not really. Nothing serious yet, but I’m running a fever again. Not super high, but hotter than normal.” He crossed the room and sat beside me on the couch and tugged me onto his lap. Even through my clothes I could feel the heat coming off of him. “And I did get a nosebleed yesterday.”
I buried my head into the crook of his neck and inhaled the citrusy musky scent of him. “I’m losing you, aren’t I?”
“It’s time I spoke to the two of you.” Vovó sat in the chair across from us, setting the jar on the coffee table. I couldn’t even look at the jar; it made my stomach roll.
“Perhaps it’s time.” Before I could ask what she meant, my grandma asked, “Would you like to have your souls bound together?”
“Our souls?” I twisted on Brent’s lap so I could see her better. “Like what you did with DJ?”
“Yes and no.” Vovó smiled. “It’s more like a marriage. One that lasts beyond death.”
“I’ve never heard of it before,” I said.
“It’s not spoken of outside the Waker community, and hardly ever in it. It doesn’t happen often. It is extremely rare and precious.” She placed a hand over her heart. “The matriarch brings the two people together and performs the ceremony. Only the three of them are present. It’s a very private and special event that will bind your souls together for eternity. Even now that your grandfather is gone I can feel his spirit with me. Sometimes he visits my dreams.”
How wonderful would that be? To know that, even if we failed, Brent wouldn’t be completely separated from me. Brent’s hand tightened around my waist. I leaned my head against his chest and met his gaze. The yearning in his eyes brought tears to my own.
Brent pursed his lips. “Wouldn’t that mean it would be even harder for Yara to move on if I died? That doesn’t sound fair to her. Or whoever she ended up with.”
Moving on? How could he already talk about me moving on? Before I gave into my temptation to slug him, my grandma answered.
“Not necessarily. She would mourn and always miss you, but she would be able to move on with time. Just like she would without it. Her heart and her body would be able to love again, but her soul would always be yours.”
Brent frowned as he kissed the crown of my head. Worrying that he was still fixated on my future love, I smoothed his dark hair away from his forehead. “This isn’t about anyone else. This is about us.”
Brent brought his hand to his mouth and bit onto one of his nails. I gently pulled his finger free.
“You don’t have to do this Brent.” I had to explain this to my grandmother. Brent had already explained his thoughts on marriage to me. “Brent doesn’t want this grandma. He doesn’t want us to get married. He has his reasons and I —”
“That’s not true.” Brent lifted his finger to my chin and guided it so my eyes were staring into his. “I want to marry you, but a legal ceremony doesn’t make sense. I don’t want people to think we’re just getting married because I’m dying, that we’re making that commitment because we know it won’t last long. Like it’s on my bucket list. But this binding, or marriage of our souls that Vovó is talking about . . . ” He sighed, tears glistening in his eyes. “That’s what I want. My body may not last more than a year, but my soul—that will last forever. If there’s a way
to tie myself to you, I want to take it.”
My throat closed up as he squeezed my hands tighter.
“I love you, Yara.” His voice broke. “I want to do this.”
“I do too,” I said in a breathless voice, tears puddling along my eyelashes.
The space between us grew palpable, charged, as if the air itself were filled with the love I saw pouring from his eyes. My heart warmed, sending fiery brilliance through my veins, a swarm of fireflies lighting up my soul, so intense it stole my breath. Brent’s eyes widened and I knew he felt it as well. Never had my heart been so full of love that it overflowed, becoming something tangible.
My grandmother sighed happily and I jumped. I’d forgotten she was there.
We turned toward her and the smile on her face was radiant.
“Yes, I knew I was right to suggest this. A couple is only told about the ceremony when the Matriarca believes the souls belong together, and I do. I’m certain of it.”
“How could you tell?” I asked, stroking my fingers along the back of Brent’s hands.
“It’s a sense. I can’t describe it, but I can almost see the link between your souls. And the way they lit up when I told you. The way you two reacted. I knew it was right.” She reached out and cradled my cheek in her hand. “You’re lucky, Querida, to have found your soul partner so young. Some people wait a lifetime to find theirs and others never find them at all.”
“We are lucky. So you’ll do this for us?” Brent asked, somehow pulling me closer.
She cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes. “Yes.”
“When?” I asked, my fingers threading through Brent’s.
“Right now, if you want.”
I looked down at my tattered jeans and cotton t-shirt and glanced around at my living room. Not the most romantic spot, but then I realized it didn’t matter what I was wearing or where we were; it only mattered who I was with.
“That sounds perfect.” My cheeks flushed. “If Brent’s okay with it.”
I glanced back at Brent and the earlier feeling returned in full force, so strong my insides melted.
“I’m very okay with it.” His answer was immediate, with no hesitation.
“You don’t worry that we’re too young?” I asked with baited breath.
Again, he didn’t even need to think about his answer. “No.” His hands slid around my waist. “Do you?”
“Not even close.”
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand in mock relief. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Your mother is going to freak.” I traced my finger across his bottom lip and he kissed it. “So will mine!”
“We won’t tell them.” Brent kissed my finger again. “Vovó said it wasn’t something brought up in casual conversation.”
“True.” Vovó stood. “No one will know but the three of us.”
She stood and put one hand on each of our faces, smiling down on us like she was bestowing a benediction. “Savor the moment. I need to gather what I need.”
We didn’t speak, but lost ourselves in each other’s eyes. Before long, Vovó returned with bottles of oils and herbs, bowls, what looked like silver thread.
“Yara, sit across from Brent and hold his hands.”
I sat on the edge of the coffee table, our knees almost touching. Brent’s palms were dry, his hands steady. I squeezed tighter and he smiled.
After pouring her ingredients into different bowls, Vovó twined the thread around our clasped hands. It bit into my hands slightly, pressing our fingers close.
While pouring the green and purple contents of one of the bowls over our hands, she spoke. I only half paid attention to what she said—I couldn’t take my eyes off Brent—but I did catch words like souls, eternity and bound, spoken in a reverent, angelic voice.
If ever words were spoken that could join two souls, these were surely them. She pricked each of our index fingers with a sharp needle she had dipped in a purple liquid. A bead of blood appeared on each of our fingers and she pressed them together, mixing our blood.
An odd feeling stretched inside me, an awakening of some dormant part of myself that had slumbered my whole life.
“Do you desire this binding, Yara?” Vovó asked.
My eyes never left Brent’s brown ones.
“Yes,” I said in a breathy voice.
“Brent, do you desire this binding?”
“Yes.” His voice was solid, full of strength and conviction.
She tossed a handful of white powder that glittered in the air. It flashed a bright silvery-white as it fell over and around us like fairy dust.
The burst of iridescent light engulfed us. In one heartbeat, Brent became part of me—an extension of myself, the air in my lungs, the marrow in my bones, the blood in my veins. Our hearts stopped and restarted, beating now in perfect unison.
The world spun and I looked out through Brent’s eyes, seeing myself the way he did for a moment before twirling back into my own body.
My soul was complete in a way it hadn’t been before. The love I had for him—that I thought couldn’t grow stronger—exploded, filling every inch of me from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. My heart swelled, allowing more love than I thought humanly possible to engulf me.
DJ and I had been joined by strings of light, but Brent and I were more. Soldered together, melded into one being.
The joy inside me grew too strong to be contained and it burst out of me, filling the air, becoming almost corporeal, illuminating the space between Brent and me with glowing crystals that shimmered and shone. The beauty of it transformed the plain living room and my simple clothes into something more.
In one blink, a dark haired woman stood before me with three girls gathered around her, and in the next blink they were gone.
The luminance dimmed and the emotional charge sparked one more brilliant burst of silver light before vanishing.
Vovó bowed her head and took a deep breath before unwinding the silvery thread from around our hands.
“It is done.” She wiped a tear away from her eyes, a bright smile on her face. “Bonita. I’m so happy for you to have found a love so strong.”
Quietly, softly, she kissed our cheeks, gathered her things, and left. Neither of us could move, both basking in the wonder of what had just happened.
My chest constricted, too full of love to allow a full breath. Brent pulled me close, our foreheads resting together, his eyes boring into mine, gasping for air.
“Wow.”
Brent nodded, and wiped a tear from my cheek. I did the same for him.
“Yara, this proves it. You’re more than my girlfriend, or a high school crush. More even than a fiancée. Those words don’t mean enough. You are my soul mate; the heavens created my soul to be paired with yours. Man, I sound like a girl, but it’s true.”
His words were so lovely, I wanted to reciprocate, to create a masterpiece of words to describe how I felt but I couldn’t find them. They didn’t exist.
Another tear rolled down my cheek. I didn’t bother to wipe it away. I had never felt more naked or seen Brent more open than in that moment.
“I’m yours and I always will be. And you’re mine. Even if we fail,” my voice broke, “you’ll always be mine. Crosby can’t take you from me. Not really.”
We both moved at the same time and threw our arms around each other. Brent’s arms had always felt right to me, but now they felt essential. His citrusy-musky scent washed over me and through me. There was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be, nowhere else I was supposed to be. I had found my soul’s north star.
I was in the middle of reading the comic section of the newspaper when DJ appeared in the chair next to me looking more sullen than I’d seen him in a long time.
“You could have warned me,” he said.
I lowered the comics and cocked my eyebrow. “About what?”
Brent paused the tapping of his pencil and looked up from his Sudoku puzzle. “Talking t
o me or a ghost?”
“DJ.”
Brent full on smirked. “I bet he’s not too happy right now.”
“About what?”
DJ threw his hands in air. “About being part of a binding I never agreed to! Now I’m tied to you and Brent.”
“You’re bound to Brent?” I looked between the two of them. They both nodded, and either looked happy about it. “How? Vovó didn’t mention that.”
I turned to Brent. “Did you know? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I could feel this pain in my neck and figured it was him.” Brent’s flashed his mischievous grin. “I would’ve mentioned it, but I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Not matter?”
I spun to DJ. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to be bound to anyone else. If I had known it would affect you in any way, I would have warned you. You trusted me and—”
“I don’t mind,” he cut in. DJ’s eyes softened and he drummed his fingers against his thigh. “I can feel how disgustingly happy you are both about this. I just would have liked a heads up. And the bond isn’t the same as it is with you. I can feel it, but it’s different, not as strong.”
“It does seem like something Vovó should have known though.” I folded the comics in half and put them down. “Doesn’t it?”
“I’m sure she did.” Brent reached his hands above his head and stretched. “Either she thought it wasn’t important, or thought it was so important she was afraid to mention it.”
“I think Brent’s right. Your grandma’s like a shaman. She knows everything. If she thinks something’s important, she makes it happen. And she doesn’t make mistakes.”
They were both right; Vovó knew what she was doing, whether she chose to explain herself or not. I could only wonder how this would play into the grand scheme of things.
“Where is Vovó?” Brent asked, glancing out the kitchen window. “I thought she wanted us to work in the garden with her this afternoon.”
The setting sun fell behind the trees, casting long shadows across the yard. “She needed to stock up on a few essentials.”
inevitablepub Page 19
