Funny. She wasn’t even hungry. But eating was natural, and one had to do it every few hours lest their stomach start complaining.
Eight missed calls, three angry phone messages, and a note on her apartment door. Such was the homecoming of a hack reporter who had missed her deadline. Not that Raegan particularly gave a crap about Higgins or the story he wanted. He’d known what was going down tonight, and though stopping Jezebel’s summoning had been her vocal prerogative, he’d indicated he’d want an article ready one way or another. As a result, she had mentally composed her letter of resignation the entire drive home, even if her inner realist knew she would chicken out before she found the courage to place it on his desk. Higgins knew what the job meant to her—perhaps not as a career, but he had the details of her past well enough pieced together to occasionally dangle a scrap of usually worthless information in front of her. Something about dead coeds or brutal animal attacks the police couldn’t explain. Something to keep her on a leash.
Honestly, she wondered if Higgins hadn’t introduced her to Zeth just to see what would happen, and what juicy underworld gossip he could gleam as a result.
Higgins would have a field day with tonight. Once he discovered where she’d been, and who she’d been with, when Jezebel’s spell took effect, he’d likely shit himself in giddy anticipation.
But Raegan didn’t want to write that story, or any story. Raegan didn’t want to go to work in a few hours. She wanted to shower, slather her sore thighs with lotion, and sleep for about forever.
Though knowing her luck, Zeth would just follow her into her dreams.
She set her spoon into the bowl, then wiped away a dribble of milk that had started skating down her chin. And the next thing she knew, the bowl was face-down on the ground, her milk jug had toppled over, and hard, raucous sobs shattered the silence in her otherwise serene apartment. A well of something she couldn’t touch had exploded, and the feeble attempt to keep herself wound and controlled lost what had always been a dying battle.
Raegan held herself and wept. Her chest ached. Her stomach turned. The house was empty and she sat in the nook, long, hard wails tearing off her lips as hot tears burned down her cheeks. A good cry could be amazingly therapeutic, but this one failed to perform. All she could do was picture Zeth. Zeth’s hands. Zeth’s smile. Zeth’s eyes. Zeth’s voice telling her he loved her.
The look on Zeth’s face before she left the room.
She thought of Zeth, then eventually of Natalie. Of how much of herself Raegan had placed in her friend’s casket before it was concealed by the earth. The face of the girl she’d once been, the one she kept buried under resentment she had never learned to channel, and fear she had avoided since discovering the horrors of fable were real after all. Then her focus shifted to Razor, the face she’d given her nightmares so many years ago.
At last her attention landed on herself. The sniveling weakling she’d become, the caricature of the person she’d wanted to be. She’d prided herself on independence, on her resilience, on being unbreakable.
But being strong just because no one ever got close enough to touch her didn’t make her strong. It made her anything but.
Raegan cried well after her tears stopped rolling. Until her throat was hoarse and raw, her head spinning and bounding in a horrible, wicked dance. The last thing she remembered before blackness washed over her was the first ray of morning peeking over the horizon.
And the empty promise that all would look better when cushioned with a few hours’ rest.
Chapter Eleven
A few hours’ worth of sleep buffered her a little, but not as much as she would have liked. Raegan’s eyes still felt heavy and swollen, even if several checks of her reflection assured her it didn’t show.
She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, though. That much was very disconcerting.
It didn’t take her long the next morning to decide where she wanted to go. Work was out of the question. While the position in which she’d fallen asleep hadn’t provided much in the way of comfort, it had succeeded in refreshing her mind. Her fantasies regarding handing in her resignation had somehow matured into determination when she wasn’t looking. Holding on to her position at All The Above only enabled her to feed her addiction. If Raegan wanted to change things, really change things, she needed to start at home.
Any idiot could see she’d used Natalie like a human shield, and if there was one thing her friend deserved, it wasn’t to be used as a post-mortem excuse to keep from living. The first and best way to leave the past where it belonged was to disassociate herself from those habits that allowed her to hang on.
Sometimes shitty things had happened. It was a part of life. And Natalie sure as hell wouldn’t rest easy knowing her closest gal pal had sacrificed her life for the sake of fearing what couldn’t be changed.
Raegan didn’t call Higgins to let him know. Facing him would be too much like visiting a bar after that first pivotal AA meeting. Instead, she typed up a letter and dropped it in the first mailbox she spied, then proceeded to her next stop.
Thankfully, no one ever dropped in unannounced on a Seer. Harriet Pollack seemed to expect her visit.
“Raegan Pritchett,” Harriet greeted, her front door wide open. “I was beginning to worry.”
Raegan had only met the woman once or twice before, but each of those times she’d found herself a little distracted by her odd but striking beauty. Harriet’s frizzy cream-colored hair contrasted nicely with her dark skin. Her large brown eyes were warm and friendly, and though her nose was a little long, it perfectly complemented her full lips which seemed perpetually pulled in a genuine smile. She often dressed in eccentric mismatched patterns, and today, wearing a tie-dye skirt with a navy, polka dot shirt, was no exception.
“How much do I need to tell you?” Raegan asked, sounding even more fatigued than she felt. “Or do you know everything already?”
Harriet inclined her head and offered an enigmatic smile. “I know a lot of what happened,” she said. “Then again, most of Highfield had a…shall we say, bizarre night? I’m just grateful it didn’t get any more out of hand than I feared.”
Raegan pressed her lips together, nodding. Honestly, she hadn’t given much consideration to what else had happened during Jezebel’s spell. The morning’s paper had detailed a few robberies, and one or two violent crimes that landed the victims in the ICU, but thankfully no one had been killed.
That was something, at least. O’Brien’s insanity hadn’t put anyone in the ground. No one, at least, except himself. Right before she left to make this visit, Raegan had turned on the television just long enough to catch a local reporter detailing how O’Brien’s body had been found in his office. Apparently, after “changing the world,” he’d hanged himself.
No explanation there, but then, none was needed. There was reportedly an incoherent suicide note found at the scene, but details were forthcoming.
“He wanted to be reborn,” Harriet explained.
The hairs on Raegan’s arms stood at attention. “What?”
“O’Brien was a cult leader without a cult. I think he suspected some sort of spiritual rebirth after what happened last night.”
“How…you Saw this?”
“Of course. It was Zeth who triggered it, actually. When O’Brien saw him afterward, it was sort of…I guess you’d call it a confirmation bias.”
Raegan’s pulse raced at Zeth’s mention, but she swallowed whatever her aching heart wanted to say.
“Come in,” Harriet said, gesturing. “I have tea brewing and a plate of homemade brownies.”
She barked a laugh. “You were prepared.”
“It’s hard to slip one by me.”
Three brownies later, Raegan sat stirring her tea absently, attempting to find a starting place. Knowing Harriet had once been intimate with Zeth made her not the best confidant in terms of impartiality. And she had no idea how or why their relationship had ended, or where the blame had
landed, if it was cast at all. Yet at the same time, this was the only place she could speak freely. Harriet wouldn’t bullshit her.
Still, she had to get it out. Her mind was a warzone, and every step she took seemed to find her on a different landmine.
Raegan cleared her throat, shifted, then found her voice. “Last night, Zeth and I—”
Harriet held up a hand. “Yes, honey. I know.”
“You know?”
“About your sexual marathon? Of course. Like I said, it’s hard to get one by me.”
“Then…do you know why I’m here?” If they could skip to the end, that would make things so much easier.
Instead, the Seer shrugged. “Do you know why you’re here?”
Damn it. Psychobabble ahead.
“Zeth…” Raegan swore and ran a hand through her blonde locks. Her eyes stung already, and that wasn’t a good sign. She thought she’d gotten herself all cried out last night, but with her emotions jumping all over the place, stability was something she lacked in abundance at the moment. “We…he says he loves me.”
Harriet nodded, looking thoroughly underwhelmed. Raegan stared at her for a long moment, blinked, then shook her head. How someone could respond so passively to something that had changed everything for her seemed bizarre, almost callous.
Raegan found her footing and forced herself to continue. “What happened last night… God, how can you just sit there?”
“Very easily,” Harriet supplied before taking a sip of tea. “These are very comfy chairs.”
“He said he loves me! What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Maybe tell him you love him back? Honestly, I know I Foresaw this conversation, but it didn’t make much sense to me then, either. Why do you think I sent you to the church, Raegan?”
She wiggled, feeling suddenly like the punch line of a very unfunny joke. “To stop—”
Harriet laughed. “I said what you were looking for was in that room, sweetie. I never said you’d be able to stop him. One can only prepare for the future, you cannot stop it from occurring.”
Raegan wiggled again, unease spreading through her gut. “I don’t understand.”
“The things I See are not visions of a possible future. They are echoes of a future that has already taken place. Any action made to prevent that future is already planned, for it is how it happened the first time.” Harriet studied her for a moment, then smiled. “I don’t expect you to understand. It took me a while to grasp the complex nature of my gift. I would attempt to prevent horrors from taking place, only to discover my intervention was a planned factor all along. I Saw you and Zeth and knew it was destiny that you and he would be together in that room.”
A cold, deadening sensation settled over her skin. “You manipulated us to get us together?”
“No,” Harriet said patiently. “I ensured what was supposed to happen happened.”
“Well, who the hell are you to decide what is and what isn’t supposed to happen?” Raegan nearly reeled with whiplash at how quickly her numbness had matured into anger, but suddenly the cold nothing that had stirred inside blossomed into something hot and hard. Something seeking a vessel, and that vessel was Harriet Pollack. The woman had known all long. She’d fucking known what would happen to Raegan in that room. How it would shake her, change her, how it would challenge everything she knew. She’d known, and she hadn’t even had the decency to warn her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What I’ve done to him? Everything is entirely fucked up right now, did you know that, too? He claimed me. He claimed me, Harriet! You can’t—”
“He claimed you?”
Raegan’s heart leapt into her throat. “Yes. And I—”
“Wow. I didn’t think that would happen so fast.”
“What?”
“Well, I knew he was going to claim you,” Harriet replied. “I suppose I just thought he’d be a little less impulsive. But if things are meant to be, they’re meant to be.”
“You knew he was going to claim me?” It was a ridiculous question. Apparently Harriet Pollack was one large crystal ball, but that didn’t stop Raegan’s incredulity from rearing its head. “You knew…but that was a mistake. He didn’t mean to do it. It just sorta happened. And I sure as hell didn’t mean to accept.”
The first time.
But she didn’t say that. The first time had been impulsive. The second time had been something else. Something wonderful.
“When I first met Zeth, I knew we had an expiration date,” Harriet said. “Such is the life of a Seer. But I liked him, and he seemed to like me, and despite the fact we had little to nothing in common and that we had no future together, I wanted to give it a shot. It didn’t last long, though. Every time I touched him, I saw the face of another woman. You want to guess who it was?”
“You saw me.”
Harriet nodded. “You were always going to be his mate, Raegan Pritchett. I knew it then, I knew it when I met you, and I knew it when I called you about O’Brien. I was just fulfilling my role.”
“But…I’m sorry, but you’re crazy. That can’t be the way it was supposed to happen. I never would have gone if it weren’t for you. You put us there.”
“No,” Harriet argued. “I merely told you about O’Brien, and where to find the thing you searched for. I did not instruct you to involve Zeth. Actually, if memory serves, I didn’t say his name once. I didn’t have to. He is the person you turn to. He has been ever since you met him.”
“That’s bullshit.” It was a weak argument, and a false one. Without even searching through her case notes, Raegan knew the woman spoke the truth. Since that first day, and even after discovering his furry secret, something had drawn her to Zeth like the clichéd moth to a flame. Something she didn’t understand, didn’t always like, but something very real nonetheless.
“It’s the truth and you know it.”
“Why tell me these things now, then? Why not yesterday? Why not—”
A long sigh rumbled through the Seer’s lips. “I cannot force fate, anymore than I can prevent it. I’m telling you now because I know what happens next.”
“You always know what happens next.”
She nodded. “Which is how I knew you were coming here.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a walking headache?”
“Yes, and three guesses who.” She grinned. “You’re wasting your time here with me. The answers you want you already have. All you came to me for was permission.”
“Why would I want your permission?”
“You don’t want it, per se, but you’re too afraid to let yourself trust. You can’t accept anything your heart tells you.” Harriet shrugged. “So you came to me. Someone who knows you both.”
Raegan’s heart pounded and her throat ran dry. “How do you know these things?”
“I’m a good observer of the things that have happened, and things that are yet to come. I just know.”
“That makes no sense to me. I came here—”
“Raegan,” she said sharply, “stop bullshitting yourself. You came here looking for something you already have. You came here for an answer. Listen to yourself. Listen, and trust what you hear.”
“Those are two things I’ve never been good at.”
Harriet’s smile turned kind. She reached across the table and clasped Raegan’s hand tightly. “Then I think it’s time you learn.”
Chapter Twelve
It felt weird knocking on his office door. Raegan hummed nervously and stared at the wooden barrier. Normally, she would stroll in with an insult at the ready, followed by whatever article Higgins had her researching. Never had Raegan come to him because she wanted to see him, and the fact she had forgotten half the things she’d wanted to say didn’t help matters, either.
What if he didn’t want to see her? Only a day had passed since they stood in the same room, but so much had changed for her in the time between. After her conversation with Harriet, which turned out really to
be a long, convoluted discussion with herself, she had wandered through the Highfield business district, trying to pep herself up for the confrontation she needed to have. In the end, she forced herself to stop stalling.
Baring oneself was supposed to be frightening and difficult. There was no one on earth who got an easy ride.
In the end, Raegan decided not to knock. Formalities weren’t needed for what she had come to say, though she endured a bout of second thoughts when she saw him. Her breathing hitched and her body tensed, the tears that had kept chasing her catching up again.
Zeth sat behind his desk the way he always did. However, unlike every other time she had seen him, he wasn’t waiting for her with a smirk. He didn’t have a line at the ready, and that familiar twinkle in his eye was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his face was buried in a newspaper, his head angled so intently that she knew he was aware of her presence.
He was tense and closed off. And she had done that to him.
“Zeth?”
He grunted but didn’t look up. “So did you not get my message or are you just planning on shitting all over it?”
“What message?”
“To leave me the fuck alone.”
Raegan inhaled sharply, her chest tightening. “I haven’t been into work. I, ahh, I guess he hasn’t gotten my letter. I sent him my resignation.”
The news visibly lent him pause, but Zeth still didn’t look up. “So you’re just here to let me know. Thanks. Consider me informed.”
“Zeth—”
A long, heady breath rushed through his lips. “Raegan, please. Just go. I can’t do this right now. I can’t even look at you. I don’t know if I—”
“Do you still love me?”
The silence that lapsed between them could have choked a small elephant. Raegan flexed her fingers, her palms sweaty and her legs threatening to give out. She didn’t know how long she stood before Zeth finally raised his head, though when he did, what she saw nearly broke her.
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