“Her mind was offline for awhile,” Amara said. “It’s slowly coming back online, processing all the memories that were deleted. It should wear off in an hour or so.”
“Why didn’t you warn me of this?”
“Would it have mattered? She’s got her mind back.”
“Still, a little warning would have been nice. She passed out, and it scared the shit out of me.
“Time is running out, Dorian,” Amara said, ignoring my comment. “A choice will have to be made, either by you or the powers that be.”
“I know.” Aggravated by the entire night, I ended the call and turned to deal with Bree and Reece.
“What are you two doing here?” They were smart enough to now look nervous. They glanced at each other and back to me. “Well?”
Reece was the first to speak. “You brought us here to move souls, and we’ve done that.” He paused, his eyes going to the right as Gwen and Fiona appeared in the doorway of the living room. Gwen cocked her head to the side, her eyes thinning the slightest bit as though she was trying to figure out a puzzle.
“And?” I prompted, bringing Reece’s attention back to me. I didn’t need him to tell me why they was here, I knew. I just wanted to see if he had the balls to admit it, to face me and tell me they had come for Gwen’s soul. I stared at him, challenging him to utter those words.
“She,” he started, his voice uneven, “she’s not right.”
A bitter snort fell through my lips. Ms. Willow had said the same thing, and now hearing it from Reece, all I could think was just how right she was—at least for me, but I knew that’s not what he meant.
“And what do you plan to do about it?” I asked, challenging him again. Do it, Reece, tell me you’re going to extract her soul. Every little piece of frustration, anger and helplessness I’d felt over the past few days seeped to the surface, looking for a way to break free. Right now, that channel was Reece.
“N—nothing,” he said, “we were…curious.”
“Curiosity didn’t work out too well for the cat,” I told him. I pointed to Gwen and said, “She’s my business, nobody else’s. Got it?”
“Tick, tick, tick,” Gwen said, motioning her head back and forth after each word. “Boom.”
Reece looked at me questioning, his eyes flicking between Gwen and me. Her bizarre words weren’t what bothered me so much, it was the normalcy in which she spoke them. Her voice was normal, her features were normal. She spoke as though everything she said made sense.
“What’s wrong with her?” Bree asked, taking a step forward. I mimicked her and took a step toward her. I liked Reece and Bree, but right now they were a threat toward Gwen, and I extinguished threats.
“She lost her memories and is now slowly regaining them,” Fiona replied. I hated that she told them that, that would only lead to more questions and the less they knew, the better.
“How did she get them back?” Bree asked.
I shook my head. I did not want to deal with this right now; I had more important things to deal with. “You two need to leave.”
“We want to help,” Reece and Bree said at the same time. “Despite how it looks, we didn’t come here to kill Gwen. We both noticed something wasn’t quite right with her the day we had lunch together. The others haven’t noticed, and we haven’t told them.” He took a step toward me, holding out his hand as though trying to calm a wild animal. “With so few spirit walkers in this world, the least we can do is help save her.”
Trust has always been an easy thing for me to do, mainly because I can sense the truth—or lack thereof—by reading the person’s soul. The spirit walkers don’t know I can do this, and I make a point of not telling people. Right now, I felt the truth of Reece’s words. However, truth is a tricky thing. At the time it’s spoken, the person may mean it, but other factors can come in and change their minds. Truth is never absolute when it comes to declarations.
“They can help me with Patrick,” Lauren offered. “I was going to go check in with the detective. Mikel?”
“Micah,” I corrected, “and that would be great.” I was thankful for Lauren’s offer, knowing she made it to get the two spirit walkers out of the house, but still make them feel included.
“Sound good?” I asked Reece and Bree. They both nodded. Reece’s eyes lingered over to Gwen one more time before the three of them turned and disappeared through the door.
“The white rabbit is late,” Gwen said, looking at her wrist, though she wasn’t wearing a watch. I inhaled a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it.
“When this is all over,” I said, making my way toward Gwen, “I’m having that bottle of Jack.”
AN HOUR AND a half passed.
I remembered.
I remembered who I was, where I lived, and that day I died in Broomsticks.
I remembered when Dorian told me he loved me.
I didn’t know how to react toward him now. He had his arms around me as we stood in the kiddie pool. I couldn’t breathe, at least not deeply. I kept my eyes pinned to his chest, feeling everything all at once.
I was elated.
I was anxious.
I was on cloud nine.
I was terrified.
I knew admitting he loved me was difficult for him, and should it come up again, however I handled it would either break what we had or move it to a step I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
Dorian’s fingers rubbed a path along my back. I wasn’t sure if he did it to comfort me or to gain my attention. Steeling my features, I tipped my head up to meet his eyes. God, I loved his eyes. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, and I had a clear view of the stirring clouds. Right now they were calm, crawling slowly across his sockets.
“It’s good to have you back,” he said.
I smiled, swallowing around the emotions crawling up my throat. Now was not the time. I wasn’t sure if there would ever be a right time.
“It’s good to be back.”
Fiona circled the pool, waving a smudge stick around us. The smoke surrounded our bodies. The musky scent invaded my senses and gave me something to focus on other than the way Dorian held me, so close and protective. It was nice, yet terrifying, now that I knew what it meant.
“So how does this work?” I asked Fiona, eyeing Ethan as he dropped items into the blender. The grinding noise of the blades mixing the concoction echoed through Aiden’s house. My eyes sought out my ex. He was sitting on the stairs with his legs bent up and his arms resting against his knees, and he was already looking at me, a reminder of why I was so afraid of what was happening between Dorian and me. My last two relationships had ended badly, Micah having broken up with me because I couldn’t give him purebred werewolf babies, and Aiden siding with my enemy, even if he claimed it was out of love. I was horrible at love.
“After I’m done cleansing you two with the sage,” Fiona said, refocusing my attention, “I’ll pour the distilled lemon water over your heads, and then you’ll drink the mixture Ethan’s blending and we’ll start the spell.”
“How does the spell know what day to go back to?” I asked. “What if we end up in 1800’s or something?”
“Dorian told us what day the rogue attacked you,” Fiona replied, waving the sage near our heads. A puff of smoke wafted toward my face, and on instinct I buried my face against Dorian’s chest. If someone walked into Aiden’s house they’d think it was on fire with how much smoke lingered in the foyer. Dorian’s hand came up and cradled the back of my head, his fingers caressing my hair. I smiled against his leather coat, absorbing the warmth of our bodies pressed together.
“Ready for the water?” Fiona asked.
Lifting my head, I nodded and looked up at Dorian. He smiled down at me, just a slight upturn of his sensual mouth.
“Ready to get wet, cupcake?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Now is not the time for your mind to be vacationing in the gutter. We have more important things to worry about.”
&
nbsp; “Then your body shouldn’t feel so damn good against mine.”
Before I could respond, Fiona dumped a small bucket of water over my head, quickly drenching Dorian afterwards. Water collected along his lips and, as much as I wanted to, I refrained from lifting onto my tiptoes and kissing the droplets away. Running a hand over my face, I shoved my wet hair out of the way, and squeezed the excess water from my shirt. The gray long-sleeved shirt Dorian wore now clung to his body, his abs outlined and tempting.
“Here.” Ethan held out two small glasses filled with purple liquid, the consistency that of a milkshake. Taking the cups from him, I sniffed mine and wrinkled my nose. Why couldn’t spell concoctions taste like cotton candy or appletinis instead of vomit?
When Dorian lifted his glass to drink, I placed a hand on his arm and stopped him. “How do we get back?” I asked Ethan.
“The spell will wear off in two hours. Be sure to only change what you go back for. Do not try to alter any other aspect of the past.”
I nodded at his warning, my stomach all of a sudden in knots. This was it, our last and only resort. What happened if we weren’t successful?
Dorian and I looked at each other as we lifted our glasses and began to drink. However, at the first taste of the mixture, I gagged and doubled over in my fight not to throw up. How the hell was I supposed to drink an entire glass of this shit? An involuntary shiver skipped up my spine and down my arms as my stomach protested. Taking a deep breath, I swallowed another mouthful and held a hand over my lips. Dorian handed his empty cup to Ethan and waited for me to finish. I shot him an annoyed look, noticing that he hadn’t been bothered by the taste. It took me a full three minutes to drink the mixture, but it had felt like three hours.
“Can I have a drink of water?” I asked.
“Here.” Fiona had a glass ready, a smile on her face as I took it from her.
“Seriously disgusting,” I told her, washing the nasty taste out of my mouth.
“What did you expect slime from a troll and grave dirt to taste like?” Ethan questioned, his tone implying I was being ridiculous.
“Troll slime and grave dirt?” I shuddered.
“Among other things,” Ethan replied. “Believe me, you don’t want to know what else was in there.”
My stomach roiled. If I survived this spell, I would be sure to drink copious amounts of alcohol to sterilize my insides.
“Can we get started now?” Ethan held a book open in his palms, giving me an annoyed look. At Fiona’s nod, they began to chant the spell. Dorian brought his arms around my body again, holding me close.
“Wait!”
“Ugh! What now?” Ethan snarled.
“What if something goes wrong?” I asked. “With magic being out of balance should we really be trying one of the most difficult spells there is? What if it backfires?”
Ethan shrugged, just a slight twitch of his shoulders, but I had caught it. It seemed while I sucked at love, my best friend sucked at picking guys. I still couldn’t figure out what she saw in Ethan. Then again, who was I to judge?
“I thought about that,” Fiona said, her face showing the worry I felt, “but what option do we have?”
“I have an idea,” Aiden said.
I’d almost forgotten he was sitting there. Almost. “What?”
“No he doesn’t,” Dorian all but growled. “We’ll take our chances with the spell.”
I stared up at Dorian. “What aren’t you telling me?” It was evident by the scowl he was giving Aiden that they were hiding something from me.
“Trust me on this, Gwen. The spell is our best option.”
Before I could respond, rapid banging erupted from the front door. All four of our heads swiveled toward the noise. My heart jackhammered in my chest in tune with the beating on the door.
“I know she’s in there,” a man growled. It didn’t take me long to remember that voice, the one that had commanded the witches during a self-defense training session in Moon. Patrick.
“Everyone involved in obstructing my arrest of Gwen Sparks is hereby considered an accessory and will be prosecuted as such!” Patrick yelled through the door. Moments later, the sounds of a fight breaking out sounded behind the door.
“Lauren,” Aiden explained, noticing my wide-eyed expression. “I’ve ordered her not to kill anyone, but others may be coming.”
“What do you want to do?” Fiona asked.
“Let’s try the spell,” I told her. “Just promise me that if we don’t show up within a day you’ll do everything in your power to get us back to this time.” As much as I feared the unpredictability of magic, I feared the NAWC more. At least with the spell, I stood a chance at living.
Fiona nodded. “We have to join hands.” She reached out for mine and Ethan’s, and I reached for Dorian’s. Dorian and Ethan eyed each other, but when I shook Dorian’s arm in impatience, he clasped Ethan’s hand.
“And whatever you do, do not let your past self see your future self. It’s imperative you have no contact with your former self, got it?” Fiona warned. When I nodded, she and Ethan started to read from the book. The fighting progressed just outside of the door. Aiden stood guard near the door, promising he would do whatever he could to make sure no one came through to interrupt us.
As Fiona and Ethan read I squeezed Dorian’s fingers tighter, and he squeezed my hand back in reassurance. It was beyond weird to know I was supposed to die that day in my shop, to know that had Dorian not restored my soul, I would be just another body in the cemetery. I just hoped like hell the spell worked and that wouldn’t be my future for a very long time.
When the first minute of Fiona and Ethan reciting the spell passed and nothing happened, I began to get nervous. Maybe magic was so out of whack that it wouldn’t work. My eyes shot to where Aiden stood near the door. The commotion had gotten louder, which made me think it wasn’t just Lauren and Patrick out there now. Were Bree and Reece fighting, as well? Who else from the NAWC had shown up?
All of a sudden I got light-headed, and my vision blurred. Wind erupted inside Aiden’s house and formed a cyclone around Dorian and mine’s body. My hair fell out of its bun and whipped across my face so forcefully that, as soon I shook the strands away, they were once again wrapping around my face like possessed vines. The roar of the wind filled my ears so that I couldn’t even hear Fiona and Ethan chanting anymore. The only reassurance I had that I wasn’t alone was the feel of Dorian’s and Fiona’s fingers clasping onto my hand. I tried to step closer to Dorian so that our bodies pressed together, but the force of the wind kept knocking me back a step. Fear unlike anything I’ve ever known crawled inside me and made itself at home. One what-if question bombarded my mind after another. What if Dorian and I ended up in different times? What if I never got back to this time? What if Patrick made it through the door before Fiona and Ethan finished the spell? And the one question that I feared the most: what if this didn’t work?
Tipping my head up, I was able to see a flash of lightning right before I had to close my eyes again. A crack of thunder echoed around the room. The hairs on my arms stood on end and goose bumps pebbled my skin. I could feel the electricity charging the air and half expected to be zapped at any moment. Dorian and I were wet after all.
The wind speed picked up even more, and soon I was fighting to grip Dorian’s fingers. Fiona’s hand was pulled from mine and my arm flung out like a wet noodle from the wind’s strength.
“Dorian,” I screamed, fighting against the abusive gust moving me away from him. My hand had slipped down his palm, and now we were gripping each other by the tips of our fingers.
“Dorian, don’t let go!” I wasn’t even sure if he could hear me because if he responded, I couldn’t hear him. I peeled an eyelid open, ignoring the sting of the wind, and tried to see where he was. It looked like I was standing in the middle of whiteout instead of in Aiden’s foyer. I couldn’t make out anything other than the elements swirling around me, and then my fingers slipped o
ut of Dorian’s hand, and I was being carried away, away, away.
I LANDED WITH a hard thump and winced when pain erupted along my hip. Standing, I surveyed where I was and searched for Dorian. I’d landed outside of my apartment complex. Looking up to my kitchen window, I felt my jaw drop upon seeing myself. I stood in the kitchen with Dorian. I remembered that day. He’d been like a warden, almost suffocating, and was telling me that I shouldn’t go into work. When I didn’t listen, he suggested Eddie go with me so that if anything happened he would be alerted. Dorian had never been able to see my future, or rather my death date, so he was uneasy about me being alone. At the time I thought he was overreacting. Had I known only hours later a rogue would step into my shop and kill me, I would have happily stayed in bed that day.
Fingers slid along my arm, and I shrieked, spinning around. Dorian stood just behind me, putting his hand up in an ‘it’s okay’ gesture. He pulled me into his body and hugged me to him.
“Shit,” he breathed, “I’m so happy that worked. When you slipped out of my hand I thought I’d never find you.” Leaning back, he studied my face for a split second before lowering his head to mine and kissing me. I’d always loved kissing Dorian, loved the power of his lips and my body’s reaction to him. I slipped my hands up to the back of his neck and pressed myself closer to him, savoring every sensation he provoked. Unfortunately, we were on a time limit and every little second counted.
“I’ll be leaving for work soon,” I said against Dorian’s mouth. Closing my eyes, I took a moment to catch my breath and steady my heart. Kissing him felt different now that I knew he loved me. It should have made it different in a better way, but it didn’t. Kissing him now came with expectations and those scared the living shit out of me. As much as I didn’t want to think about our relationship, whenever I was around Dorian it was as though the universe was forcing me to think about it. Much like pain, Dorian demanded to be felt. His presence was so strong that he was impossible to ignore.
Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4) Page 20
