Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4)

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Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4) Page 14

by Nelson, Stephanie


  Bree and Reece shared a look, but it was Bree that responded. “No, this plane has a lot of spirits. As long as they don’t cause problems, we allow them to stay. Our job is to deal with the ghosts that are either openly haunting someone or have become so aggressive that their presence is no longer tolerable in this dimension. That’s when we escort them to the realm of the dead.” She paused, tilting her head in thought. “You really don’t remember anything, do you?”

  I shook my head and shrugged. “Nothing having to do with my personal life, no. I know other things, basic things.”

  “And why do you suppose someone took your memories?” Reece asked. He watched me with an interest that unsettled me. Did he figure out that my soul was expired? More importantly, was Dorian enough of a threat to the spirit walkers to keep them from removing my soul?

  I shrugged again in response to Reece’s question, all the while thinking about what the woman in the mirror had told me. Whoever she was, she knew what Dorian had done and that I was living on borrowed time. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I needed to tell Dorian about what happened. We were all on edge with the threat of the NAWC, but what if this woman was the real threat.

  “So how’s the cleanup coming along?” I asked, desperate to change the topic. I was almost positive that Bree and Reece had suspicions about me, and I needed to distract their attention away from me.

  “It’s going,” Reece stated. “I’ve never seen anything like what’s happening here. Has Dorian or your friends found a reason behind it?”

  Shit. He’s not going to let this go, I thought. “They assume it’s whoever took my memories,” I told them.

  “There is some seriously unnatural magic at work here,” Bree added.

  My stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

  Bree sat forward, resting her arms on the table. “Death is as natural as life,” she explained. “It’s hard for people to see that because one brings joy and the other sorrow. People rejoice with new life and crumble when their loved ones pass away.” She sent me a small smile. “Death is actually just as joyous as life though; it brings peace to the suffering. The living have a hard time understanding that though because they feel left behind when they lose someone.”

  “Get to the point, Bree,” Reece said, popping an onion ring into his mouth. Bree gave him a sideways, acrid glare, but he kept his eyes on me, a hint of a smile on his mouth.

  “Anyway,” Bree continued, “As you may know, it’s unnatural for people to still be up walking around and talking after they should be dead. Not to mention unsettling. Whatever magic is trapping their souls in their body is causing some serious damage to their auras.”

  That caught me off guard and all of a sudden I felt like every pair of eyes in the restaurant were on me, accusing me. I was, after all, responsible for people not being able to move on.

  “How so?” I asked. I eyed the remaining food on my plate and shoved it away from me. What food I had eaten was quickly souring in my stomach.

  “Well,” Bree said in thought, “souls know when it’s their time to move on. The souls of the…let’s call them affected, feel the need to leave their hosts’ bodies but are unable to. It’s a terribly frustrating thing for them, to be prisoners.”

  “Prisoners?” I murmured to myself. Bree made it sound so horrible and that only intensified my guilt. A thought wandered through my mind: did my soul feel like a prisoner and would I even know if it did?

  “Aside from the souls not moving on,” Reece interjected, “other weird occurrences are popping up all over this town.”

  I was too afraid to ask, but I didn’t have to because Reece continued talking without noticing my unease.

  “The pixies are unable to keep any plant life alive, and the fairies and elven people have stated that performing nature magic is growing increasingly harder to accomplish. Actually, all magical creatures, witches included, have stated that their magic is unpredictable. We had one woman who ended up blowing up her house when she tried to magically light candles.” Reece paused, his green eyes thinning the slightest bit as he watched me. “She’s lucky to be alive.” He paused again, watching me as though waiting for a specific reaction. I kept my face impassive, and then worried that that made me look unsympathetic toward the woman. Allowing the tiniest bit of unease onto my face, I nodded toward Reece to continue. If he thought my reaction bizarre, it didn’t show on his face.

  “There’s also that little imbalance of energy,” he finished. “If we don’t fix it, and soon…” He shook his head, allowing the silence to finish his line of thought. If we didn’t fix the imbalance soon things would only get worse. And it was all my fault, all the suffering, botched magic and imprisoned souls. Was I really willing to watch all these disasters occur just so I could live? The answer was simple: no, no I was not.

  “AREN’T YOU HUNGRY?” Fiona asked Gwen. She had ordered two large pizzas, but Gwen hadn’t touched any of it. She sat on the sofa next to me with her legs curled underneath her and held a throw pillow in her lap. Her eyes were distant and blinked at the sound of Fiona’s voice. Something had happened at lunch with Bree and Reece today, but she wasn’t talking to me, which meant I would have to talk to the spirit walkers.

  “No, I had a big lunch,” Gwen replied with a weak smile.

  I reached out and squeezed her thigh, but she wouldn’t look up at me. Her distant behavior was starting to scare me, an emotion I wasn’t used to. If she’d only tell me what was wrong, confide in me, I could fix whatever troubled her. If Reece, or even Bree, had offended her in any way I would personally drag them here and make them apologize. Something told me that that wasn’t the problem, though.

  I dropped my hand and set my plate on the coffee table. “How’s the search for the ingredients coming?”

  Fiona glanced at Ethan before looking over to me. “Harder than expected. We were able to procure two out of the ten items today. The spell needs to be recited on a full moon as well. If we don’t obtain all of the ingredients in the next four days, we’ll have to wait a whole month.” Fiona’s shoulders sagged in defeat while Ethan stared down at his pizza.

  “Then do whatever the hell it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen,” I snapped. “It was your guys’ idea for the time travel spell, and now you’re telling us that you can’t do it?”

  “That’s not what we’re saying,” Ethan said. “It’s just that we need some of the items from people and most are unwilling to help after finding out what type of spell we’re working.”

  “Why?” I asked, my eyes flicking over to Gwen. She was staring at Fiona, listening.

  “Because traveling through time comes with serious ramifications,” Ethan replied. “One wrong move and it could alter the future. Most don’t want to toy with something like that.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, annoyed and frustrated. “Isn’t that what I said when you two suggested this idea? You should have checked into getting the ingredients before getting our hopes up.”

  “We’ll get them,” Fiona promised, a wrinkle forming between her eyes.

  “Well it better be fast because Micah has already received a call from the NAWC,” I said and then shut up. I hadn’t meant to spit it out like that, especially not tonight after seeing the funk Gwen was in. Three heads snapped up as everyone stared at me in alarm.

  “What do you mean?” Fiona asked.

  “What did they want?” Gwen said.

  “This can’t be good,” Ethan mused.

  Exhaling, I leaned back against the couch and looked over at Gwen. My earlier uncertainties regarding my feelings toward her faded as our eyes connected. The pressure in my chest tightened at the worry reflecting within her gaze. I would make everything better, fix things, and erase that worry. I had to.

  “They asked Micah to detain Gwen until they arrived,” I finally said, still watching Gwen. Her blue eyes widened somewhat before they fell to her lap.

  “He’s not going to, is he?�
�� Fiona questioned. “I mean, he wouldn’t. Would he?”

  I shook my head. “No, he’s on our side. But what little time we had has decreased even more. I’m not sure when the NAWC will arrive, but I’m assuming it’ll be sooner rather than later.”

  Fiona and Ethan shared a look and then nodded at each other. I arched a questioning brow in their direction. I still wasn’t sure whether to trust Ethan or not, but at this point I didn’t have much of an option. Besides, if he betrayed us I could easily remedy that by torturing him within an inch of his life.

  “We’ll head out again tonight and try to get the other items,” Fiona said. She and Ethan stood up, and when they passed behind the sofa, Fiona squeezed Gwen’s shoulder in reassurance.

  “Should I come with you?” I asked. “I have ways of making people rethink their decisions.”

  Ethan snorted, a scornful look crossing his face. “Yeah, your unlawful ways are why we’re in this mess. I think Fiona and I can handle it.”

  I stood, moving the few feet that separated us. “Can you?” I asked. “Are you two really willing to do whatever it takes to obtain the items for Gwen’s sake?” I paused a moment to let my question sink it. I wasn’t asking lightly, and they needed to understand the importance of the situation, that if they failed, Gwen was as good as dead.

  “Look,” Ethan started, “I feel bad for Gwen’s situation but we’re not about to break any rules and put ourselves in danger.”

  You gutless bastard, I thought. I’d known people like Ethan in my time, always walking the straight and narrow with their noses in the asses of their superiors. Their sense of right and wrong was always marred by their need to follow the rules set before them.

  “I will,” Fiona cut in. Ethan balked, and she raised her chin just a notch. Looking over at her boyfriend, she said, “She’s my best friend. Not only has she put her life on the line for me, but if the roles were reversed, I know she’d do the same. I’ll do whatever I can to help her now.”

  I smiled. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

  Fiona nodded in my direction and spun around to leave, Ethan shaking his head behind her as he followed.

  After Fiona and Ethan left I suggested to Gwen that we watch a movie. I wanted to take her mind off everything and just…be with her. I sat at one end of the couch while Gwen curled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. I had popped in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, knowing it was one of her favorite movies and hoping it would cause something to click inside her brain.

  I caressed her shoulder, watching her profile as she watched the movie. Her lips bent upward at something on the television but quickly straightened into a flat line again. It bothered me that she hadn’t told me what was bothering her yet. She had to know she could trust me, confide in me. I’d proven myself repeatedly, but then, she couldn’t remember that.

  Losing myself in my thoughts, I wondered if Fiona would succeed in finding all the ingredients and what it would mean if she didn’t. Last resort, I would seek Amara’s help. Being a Fate, she probably already knew what was going on. Maybe she knew the day she gave me Gwen’s name what would happen. Fates are tricky creatures, always having ulterior motives.

  “Bela Lugosi,” Gwen whispered at the vampire on screen. Sitting up, she stared at the TV a little longer before she turned toward me. “Bela Lugosi,” she repeated, “that’s the actor that plays the vampire.”

  My eyes flicked to the television and back to Gwen. “You remember him?”

  She nodded, a slow smile appearing on her face. “I think he’s my favorite vampire, or was my favorite. I’m not sure, but I remember him.”

  That caused me to smile if only because it was the most random thing she could’ve remembered. These little arbitrary moments she had were one of the things that drew me to her. Her mind was such a spontaneous place that I never knew what to expect from her. The fact that she could surprise me was refreshing.

  Gwen was quiet for a long while, having gone back to staring at the screen. She tilted her head, eyes thinning as she thought about something.

  “I was sixteen,” she murmured to herself, “and…upset about something. Fiona was there, we were in a large bedroom…with stone walls and a four-poster bed.” She curled her upper lip in and chewed on it. When she was sixteen her parents had kicked her out and sent her to live in Moon at the NAWC’s castle. It was where she met Fiona. Remaining quiet, I gave her space as she worked out the details.

  “We watched this movie,” she finally said, turning to face me. She let out a short breathy laugh. “I remember.”

  Hope swelled in my chest. “Is that all you remember?”

  She thought for a few seconds and then her smile wavered. “Yeah, I’m still getting static when I try to remember other things.” Her body sagged. “But this is the most I’ve remembered since my memories have been taken. That’s something, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s a good sign,” I assured her with a nod. A curtain of hair fell across her face as she rested her elbows on her knees, and she swiped it back, tucking it behind her ear. My God, she was beautiful. Her t-shirt hung off one shoulder, revealing ivory skin. I wanted to press kisses there, make a path up her throat.

  Clearing the lusty thoughts, I said, “Did something happen at lunch today?”

  She looked over at me, hesitating. “Reece and Bree told me about everything that’s happening in town. They said the souls unable to move on are prisoners in their bodies, that it’s torture.”

  “That’s why they’re here,” I told her, “to move the spirits on.”

  Gwen stood up, running both hands through her long hair. She stood with her back toward me. Stretching an arm along the back of the couch, I stared up at her. The voices from the television invaded the silence between us, the humor awkward against the tension.

  When Gwen turned to face me, her arms were folded across her chest. “This is because of me, because of what you did. The people of Flora are paying for me living.”

  “They won’t be paying for long, Gwen. Fiona and Ethan will get the ingredients for the spell, and we’ll change the past.”

  Her eyes snapped to my face as her jaw set into a hard line. “Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not supposed to live? I died that day in my shop, Dorian. Travelling back in time won’t make a difference.”

  “It will make a difference,” I growled, angry at even the thought of her death, “because I’ll be there to save you this time. That rogue won’t get a chance to even touch you.”

  She laughed bitterly. “So your plan is to what, shadow me my entire life to keep me from dying? Damn the consequences, right?”

  I stood up, seething. “If I have to, yes! Do you really fault me for wanting to keep you safe, keep you here?”

  “You’re not keeping me safe, though. You’re going against your very own design, ignoring the rules because you can’t cope with the idea of losing me.” Gwen looked away, taking a moment to suck in a deep breath. “This is life, Dorian. People die every single day. Families lose loved ones. Every. Single. Day. What makes you so special?”

  Pain and pressure gripped my chest. The very idea of Gwen not being here was gut-wrenching. As Death, I would be able to see her again in spirit form, but I would still be losing her.

  “Given the power, don’t you think every other person who has lost someone would have done what I did? The only difference is that they can’t and I can.” I moved toward her, ignoring when she shied away from me. “Think of me as a selfish bastard if you want, but know that I did what I did because…” I choked, my mouth agape with the knowledge swirling through my head.

  “Because?” Gwen drawled, scowling at me.

  I shook my head, amazed at what I was about to say. “Because…I love you.” I released an uneven breath. “And saving you was worth any fucking consequence I had to face.”

  The scowl marring Gwen’s face smoothed away as she looked up at me. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. When she looked aw
ay from me, I could see a single tear slide down her cheek. Was she happy or sad? My thoughts and feelings were one big cluster fuck of confusion. I’d just told a woman I loved her. It had to be love. It was the only thing that explained why I did what I did, why losing her was so unacceptable. Somehow while spending time with her that nasty little emotion seeped into my system and infected me. I’d spent centuries pitying all the fools who succumbed to love only to become one.

  “Say something.”

  Her head lifted. “What do you expect me to say, that because you love me it makes what you did okay? Should I just ignore the fact that people are suffering because I’m alive?”

  Frustration unlike anything I’d ever known burned me from the inside out. I wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her until she understood, but I knew rattling her wouldn’t dislodge the stubbornness in her brain.

  “What do you expect me to do? Allow you to die, watch your spirit move on while I bury your body? Is that what you want?”

  “No,” she admitted, “but it’s what I should want. It’s what’s right, and right decisions are never easy ones.” She laughed wryly. “The only reason I’m alive right now is because Death fell in love with me.”

  I stepped forward, grabbing one of her hands. To my surprise, she didn’t pull away. Her eyes fell to our joined fingers. Deep down I knew she wanted to live, that all her anger tonight had been survivor’s guilt. I hated myself for causing it, but I also couldn’t regret my actions because it allowed Gwen to be standing in front of me right now. And given the chance, I would do it again.

  SOMEONE WAS KNOCKING on my door, impatiently. I shot up in bed, my eyes darting to the alarm clock—2:47 a.m. Realization that it may be the NAWC zapped the last traces of sleepiness fogging my head.

 

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