by L. Danvers
“He took me to Crescent Cape,” I blurted out.
“What?!” He clutched his stomach and burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. “You can’t be serious.”
I should have just kept my mouth shut.
Xander was in tears. “You’re telling me he took you to the place where you were a blood slave? How romantic.”
I wanted to argue with him. Maybe I had a dark sense of humor, but in spite of myself, I smiled, too. “Shut up. It wasn’t like that.”
He was laughing too hard to hear me.
“Seriously, Xander. He’s a good guy. Better than I deserve.” I propped my elbows on the counter and rested my head in my palms. Now that I thought about it, nothing about this was funny.
“He can’t be that great.”
“He is,” I asserted, staring down at the counter. Bellamy was the epitome of everything that was right in the world. A world I now questioned whether I belonged in... “He’s a perfect gentleman. He’s protective. He’s compassionate. He’s understanding. He’s forgiving. He’s as dependable as they come.”
“Dependable, huh?”
“Yes. Oh, and speaking of being dependable,” I started, “can I borrow your phone? I want to call him.”
He scoffed. “Absolutely not. What if he traces my number? If you really care about this guy as much as you say you do, then you’d better get used to letting him down. Because the only way you can guarantee his safety is if you keep him as far away from the supernatural part of yourself as possible.”
As much as I wanted to debate him, I had a terrible feeling he was right...
Xander
We’d spent all day and much of the night cataloging Uncle Ben’s collection of magical objects. A variety of objects were missing. The most concerning item that was missing, in my opinion, remained the siphoning tool.
I don’t know why I hadn’t ever suggested Ben find a better place to store these items. Honestly, I hadn’t paid much attention to how he conducted his business. Though, to be fair, it had never been an issue before.
I couldn’t do anything about the past, but I had an idea about how to rectify the situation in the future.
Whoever broke into his home had seen our family albums. Whatever anonymity Uncle Ben had before was long gone now. He was now officially connected to the Blood Heirs. And word traveled fast in the supernatural community. Which meant that he’d never be truly safe.
Crescent Cape had been vacant for years. Ever since the fire and the raids, the government had taken over the property. But it wasn’t like it benefitted the government in any way. Other than weirdos like Bellamy apparently, most people didn’t want to visit the land once reigned over by vampires.
A year or so ago, I saw that the land was up for auction. Not surprisingly, there hadn’t been any bidders. First of all, the land itself was worth a fortune. After all, it stretched for acres along the Cape. Second of all, well, you know.
Now, I hadn’t made a move to buy back the land because of my name. After Julian’s photograph ended up plastered all over the news, it seemed like it’d be a bit obvious if I purchased it. I could only imagine how the public would react. And, believe it or not, I liked keeping my identity under the radar. It made feeding much easier when people didn’t scream in terror at the sight of you.
What’s more, with Grace and I on the never-ending search for faerie dust, I hadn’t had time to look into it too closely.
But now, I had another idea.
Perhaps I could give Uncle Ben the money. Have him buy the property. Have him rebuild our family home. He had a different last name, after all. No humans would know he was connected to us. And now that supernaturals had been outed anyway, even if people did put two and two together, it wouldn’t matter.
Granted, building another castle in its place might be pushing it.
But a mansion? I could settle for that.
What’s more—we could create an armory for him. In addition to locks and alarm systems, Grace could spell up stronger protection wards. And I’d offer my services of protection, too, of course.
Uncle Ben could live there with me. Aiden and Victoria, too, and the rest of my siblings if we made it big enough. We had the financial means. So, why not? We may not be able to bring Crescent Cape back to its former glory. Now that the world knew of what had transpired there, there was no going back. Not in this day and age. But still... Crescent Cape had been our home for centuries. Someone would claim the land eventually. We might as well get to it first.
I wondered if Grace would consider moving in, too. It would be the safest place for her, undoubtedly. The one place where I could keep an eye out for her. To protect her.
The only problem was Bellamy.
I was banking on him running for the hills as soon as she told him she was a witch... but what if I was wrong?
She kept emphasizing the word dependable earlier. Was that supposed to be a dig at me? No, it couldn’t be. She didn’t remember our history.
And yet... our fight that night in New York was forever etched into my mind.
I know you run away when things get tough. So, is that what this is about? Is that what’s happening now?
I dragged my hands down my face, knowing that none of it mattered anymore. But I vowed then and there that if I ever did get the old Grace back, I’d make certain she never had to doubt my loyalty again.
Grace
Today was the big day—Ben was returning home from the hospital. Xander had left a while ago to pick him up, but I offered to stay behind. I wanted to do my part to make things right with Ben. He said there was nothing to apologize for, but still... I felt awful that he had been attacked right after I’d left. If I’d been there, maybe I could have stopped whoever did this to him.
So, here I was in the kitchen doing my best not to accidentally burn the place down.
Back at the diner, I didn’t touch anything other than the coffee maker. But I did remember my mom’s famous casserole. Everyone that had ever tried a bite had fallen in love with it. Hopefully Ben would accept this as my peace offering.
I had just finished topping the casserole off with crushed crackers when the last of the crumbs slipped out of my hands. Fangs was there in a flash, lapping up the remnant. I chuckled at her and, after drizzling melted butter over the top, popped the meal in the oven.
Needing something remotely healthy to serve alongside the heart attack-inducing dish, I wandered over to the refrigerator and rummaged around looking for lettuce and some veggies to toss into a salad. But then the doorbell rang, taking me by surprise.
Fangs unleashed a ferocious bark, and I jumped and slammed my head against the refrigerator door. Shutting it and pressing my palm to my forehead, I looked through the peephole.
My heart jumped. It couldn’t be.
Even through the distorted glass, I could make out the features of the young man standing before me: deep blue eyes, hair as bright as the sun and a thin nose.
My memories of him might have been gone, but even without them, I knew who the person on the other side of the door was: my brother. My twin.
Hurriedly, I unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Nick?” I said breathlessly.
Fangs was barking at him, so I did my best to settle her.
Nick smiled and said, “Grace, it’s so good to see you again.” He gave me an awkward hug—I guessed that was how we typically greeted each other in the past. But I couldn’t help myself. I flung my arms around his neck and pulled him in close, hardly believing I was touching my own flesh and blood. He chuckled. “Whoa, what’s that for?”
My lashes grew wet, and I blinked, trying to compose myself. “It’s just really good to see you.”
I released him from my hold and he stared down at me quizzically. With a whiff of his nose, he asked, “What are you cooking?”
“Casserole,” I said. “It’s an old recipe from my mom. My, uh, adopted mom.” I sounded like a bumbling idiot. “I’m sorry, this is super weird.�
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“What is?” he asked, making himself comfortable at the kitchen table.
“This is going to sound crazy.” I sat down across from him and let out a heavy breath. “I know that we’ve met before,” I started, “but I don’t remember any of it.”
“Oh?”
“Memory powder, we’re guessing.” And then I realized I hadn’t even asked why he was here—or how he knew where to find me. I swept my hair away from my eyes and tucked it behind my ear. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you,” he said flatly. There was something disconcerting about his tone. A coolness in his voice that I hadn’t expected. “I tried calling...” he started.
“I lost my phone,” I explained, not bothering to bore him with the details. As I was sitting there with him, I realized he was the first witch that I’d come across since learning about what had happened to me. Maybe he could help. “Hey—you wouldn’t happen to know anything about memory powder, would you? Do you know how I can get my memories back?”
He was about to speak when his phone buzzed. I happened to see the name that flashed on the screen before he swiftly silenced the call and tucked the phone in his pocket: Phoebe Mather. The name was strangely familiar, but I couldn’t place where I had heard it.
“So, you were saying something about your memories being wiped. Do you know who did it?”
I shook my head.
“And you really don’t remember anything?”
“Nothing of the past seven years. I wouldn’t even know about you had it not been for Ben and Xander.”
The lock on the front door jostled. Ben walked inside, followed by Xander. “Ben,” I said, jumping to my feet and hurrying over to greet him. Fangs brushed in front of me and jumped up, pawing lovingly at her owner while she licked him to death. She looked back at my brother and snarled before giving a whine and nuzzling against Ben’s leg. Once she calmed down enough for me to get a word out, I asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Never better,” he said, and he glanced back at Xander.
“I gave him some of my blood in the hospital parking lot,” Xander explained.
“Oh,” I said. “I see. Well, that’s good... right?”
“Yeah, as long as no one tries to kill me in the next twenty-four hours,” he joked. He spotted my brother sitting at the table. He walked over to greet him. “Hey, Nick,” he said, giving my brother’s shoulder a squeeze. “Long time no see. What are you doing here?”
“I heard my sister was back in town,” he said, glancing over at me and smiled. There was something oddly familiar about his smile. Maybe, deep down, I really did remember him. “I hadn’t been able to get in touch with her for some time. Thought it would be best to come by and make sure she was okay.”
“I’m fine,” I said, though I didn’t know why. Nothing about what had happened to me in the past weeks was fine.
“Back in town?” Xander asked, stepping forward. “How’d you know she was out of town?”
Nick flicked his hand. “Oh, I’d tried to call her a while back. Went to her place and saw that no one was there. Figured she’d skipped town.”
“And you didn’t think to ask us?” Xander asked, gesturing to himself and his uncle. “And who told you she was back in town anyway?”
Nick shrugged. “I did a tracking spell. And what difference does it make? It’s not a crime to visit my sister.”
“Don’t worry about Xander,” Ben said to Nick. “You know how he is.” Then he sniffed the air and asked, “Is something in the oven?”
“It’s a casserole,” I explained. I crossed the room and flicked the oven light on so that he could see. “It’s my way of saying sorry and that I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Grace, how many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have anything to apologize for? This wasn’t your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have just left like that,” I asserted. “And anyway, call it an I’m sorry casserole or a get well casserole. Whatever you want. I just felt like I needed to do something. You know?” I hugged my arms around myself, staring at the floor.
“I know,” he said, and though I wasn’t looking directly at him, I could feel the smile in his voice.
Xander pulled out a chair and plopped himself across from my brother. The way they stared at each other made it seem like they were arch enemies. There was clearly some bad blood there. I wondered what that was all about. Maybe Nick blamed Xander, too, for what happened to our dad. “So,” Xander said, his gaze unflinching, “you wouldn’t happen to know anything about what the Albrights are up to, would you?”
Nick blinked. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He jerked his head toward me. “Memory powder for her. Blood draws for me. If you ask me, the witches are up to something.” He folded his hands and rested them on the table before leaning forward. “And then someone breaks into Uncle Ben’s place. Attacks him and steals his magical objects. Pretty weird coincidence, huh?”
“Super weird,” he admitted.
“So, I’m asking you one more time: do you have any guesses as to what they’re up to?”
“I couldn’t say. Rival coven and all.”
Xander locked his gaze in on my brother’s. “Tell me the truth. What are the witches up to?”
“I already told you. I don’t know.”
“Xander,” I said with a scoff, realizing what he was doing. He was compelling my brother. “Stop it. If he says he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.”
Xander stammered back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine,” he said, his gaze dark and murderous.
Nick scooted his chair back, getting ready to stand.
“Seriously, Nick,” Ben started, “don’t mind him. Stay for dinner.”
“Please, Nick,” I said, eyes pleading. “Please stay. I’d love to get to talk with you. I have so many questions for you.”
Nick sighed. “Actually, I should be going. I just came to make sure Grace was alright,” he said, straightening out the hem of his shirt as he stood. He offered his hand to Ben. “Glad to see you’re on the mend.”
“Wait,” I said, chasing after Nick as he headed for the door. I grabbed a pad of yellow sticky notes and a black pen from the edge of the counter and handed it to my brother. “Can I get your number again?”
His mouth tugged into a smile. “Sure.” And he scribbled the digits on the paper before handing it back to me. “Take care of yourself, Grace.”
I nodded. “I will.” And I stood in the doorway as I watched my brother slide into his car and drive away. Frustrated, I spun on my heel and marched straight toward Xander. “Why you do have to be such a jerk? Do you have any idea what him being here meant to me?”
“Grace—”
“Stop it! I don’t want to hear it. I only came back because of him,” I said, pointing to Ben. “I can’t begin to fathom how we ever ended up being friends before. Because, quite frankly, you are selfish and rude and completely insufferable.” My fists were clenched so hard that I drew blood. I noticed his nostrils flare. Part of me wanted to shove my hand into his stupid mouth to force him to drink witch’s blood and make him sick. But I refrained.
“Grace,” Xander started in an unsettlingly stoic voice. “Did you find anything strange about that whole interaction?”
“What?” I said, scrunching my face in exasperation. “What are you talking about?”
“Seriously,” Ben chimed in. “What are you talking about?”
“What did he say to you before we got here? Did he say anything strange to you?”
I crossed my arms defensively. “No. I asked him about getting my memories back, but someone called before he could answer.”
“Did you hear his conversation? Who was he talking to?”
“Someone named Phoebe called, but he didn’t answer it. And then you walked in and ruined everything.”
“Did you just say Phoebe?”
“Yes...” He and Ben exchange
d a tense glance. “Why? Who’s Phoebe?”
Ben cleared his throat. “She’s a witch from the Kingdom of the Silver Seas. She’s the one who secured the Silverleaf sapling for Reed—the ingredient he used in the spell to drop the boundary to Crescent Cape.”
“Why would Phoebe be calling Nick?” Xander pondered.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she was a family friend?”
Xander was pacing now, mind spinning. “You told your brother that your memories were wiped clean, and he didn’t help you.” It was more of an observation than a question.
“That’s only because you barged in here and picked a fight with him.”
“And he got a call from Phoebe... And he said he knew you were here because he did a tracking spell on you. But why didn’t he do that in the first place when he hadn’t been able to reach you?”
“I don’t know.” I really didn’t. I had no idea what my relationship with Nick was like. He seemed a bit on edge, but maybe that was normal for him.
Xander brushed his dark hair away from his face, letting his fingers dig into his scalp. “Grace, who were you texting right before we were attacked in New York?”
I shrugged. “How would I know?”
“Oh, right.” He flicked his hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. It was a rhetorical question. The answer is Nick. You didn’t see each other often, but you always checked in with him. And you always told Nick where you were going. And you texted him to let him know you’d made it alright. I thought it was a weird twin thing you’d picked up, but now, I’m not so sure...”
“What are you getting at?” I planted my hands on my hips.
“What if Nick was thwarting our attempts to find faerie dust the whole time? Every single lead we had came up short. What if he was beating us to the punch? How did the Albrights of all people know we were in upstate New York anyway?”
“What would Nick have to do with that? I thought that the Albrights and Carlisles were rival covens...”
“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Xander said, pacing faster now. “Nick knew where we were going before we got there. He knew you had been out of town. He knew you had returned to Quarter Square. Not to mention, someone with magic would have had to break down those protection spells you had put around Uncle Ben’s magical objects.”
