by Casey Lane
“A message? Was Ezri the spirit who told her about Belle Haven?”
Wren threw up his hands. “I can’t be sure. Ezri told Neoma that the spell she cast, the spell to make her forget, was breaking down.”
Isa did her best to follow his story. “Ezri cast a spell? To make Neoma forget about what?”
“That’s the problem. According to Neoma, Ezri told her it was a spell to protect both of them from secrets they’d shared with each other. She said it was supposed to be temporary. But now that Ezri’s...gone, the spell is going to start breaking down on its own which Ezri insists is a dangerous thing.” He looked at Isa as if he was waiting for her to freak out. “She also said that something bad was waiting here for us in Belle Haven and we needed to find a particular witch to break the spell, so we know who we’re fighting.”
“So, is Neoma’s passenger, Ezri? Sending her messages from the other side?”
Wren frowned. “I don’t think so. I don’t know what a passenger is, but it doesn’t sound like a good thing and Ezri would never intentionally hurt Neoma.”
Isa took a deep breath. “Well, you can’t throw a rock in this town without hitting a witch, the downside is they’re either in braces or wheelchairs. What’s the name of the witch?”
“I don’t know.”
Isa stared at him for so long that Wren started to plan where he and Neoma would run next. “So how do we find a witch if you don’t know her name?”
“Ezri told Neoma to look for a witch who laughs with her eyes and talks with her hands.”
Isa’s face split into a grin. “Hadley.”
“What?”
Isa couldn’t help but laugh at how easy that was. “The witch you’re looking for is Hadley Duvall.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” Isa said.
“You're kind of amazing,” Wren said. “I hope you know I never meant to bring all this trouble to your doorstep.”
“This is Belle Haven. Supernatural trouble’s kind of our thing,” Isa assured him. “I’m going to call and arrange a meeting with Hadley. You need to find out what your parents are hiding. I know you can’t call them, but what about your sisters? Would they know anything?”
He shook his head. “My parents wouldn’t have confided in my sisters. They were too young.” He slipped his phone from his pocket and stared at it as if he was warring with himself. “I can call Oggie. I trust him to keep quiet.”
The name jarred Isa’s memory. “Wait, your dad’s best friend? The bear shifter?”
“My dad’s former best friend and my mother’s current”—he grimaced— “companion.”
“Oh,” was all she could manage.
Gen was right; her life really was a supernatural telenovela.
Chapter Twenty
Neoma
Neoma and Tristin lay at opposite sides of Tristin’s small bed, their feet tangled in the middle, each holding their book. She liked spending time with Tristin; it reminded her of the days she’d spent with Ezri, lying in her bed, Ezri telling her stories about the Norse gods and goddesses. She felt safe with Tristin, safe in this house. Wren’s family had always been kind to her, but she’d never been one of them, she’d always been an outsider. Nobody here treated her like that.
She stared at the page of her book, but she wasn’t reading. She couldn’t. All day long, she’d racked her brain trying to remember every detail, but still, only flashes would come. The dragon had fed from her too. Fed from her neck. She’d remembered that. Maybe she shouldn't have told Rhys. She didn't know if the voice in her head—this dragon woman—would hurt Rhys like she'd hurt her. She couldn't live with herself if Rhys got hurt because of her.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tristin asked, nudging her with her foot.
Neoma dropped her book to see Tristin watching her expectantly. “What do you mean?”
“You aren’t reading; you’re just staring at the page.”
Neoma stared at her curiously. “How do you know?”
“Because I haven’t heard you turn your page in forever,” Tristin said as if the answer was obvious. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like the book? If you don’t, I have more.”
Neoma looked down at the book. She was trying to read it. It was a good book. She could see why Tristin loved it. That was the dream, wasn’t it? Meeting somebody who loved her enough to risk everything, even their life, just to be with her? To keep her safe? It seemed very romantic and fanciful and everything she could want in a book…but, since her dream, Neoma couldn’t get past the two boys being vampires. In the books, the boys were the most beautiful creatures the girl had ever seen. In real life, vampires were anything but pretty. Everybody knew vampires were hideous, with pointy bald heads and sharp jagged teeth and limbs that were too long for their bodies.
At least that’s what Neoma had always thought, but she wasn’t so sure now. Her nightmare—her memory—was haunting her. She did her part to pretend. She’d gone to work with Isa and spent the day helping Gen. She’d kept a smile on her face and controlled her temper when that bad man had shown up at the diner, and was mean to Isa. She’d baked cookies and laughed and sang along with the radio.
She was good at pretending everything was fine. She’d done it for three years. But it wasn’t fine. With each passing hour, more pieces of her memory seemed to fall into place. The woman in the black dress, a corn field like the one she’d seen in her dream with Ezri, a pain that took her breath away. The way the woman had slaughtered every one of the hollow people and killed Ruby too. The spell was breaking down just like Ezri said it would.
She should never have told Rhys. Something deep inside her was telling her the more she spoke about the woman, the more of a hold she had over her…over all of them. Rhys wanted so badly to protect her, and she wanted to let him. She had made herself Rhys’s burden, in her attempt to unburden Wren. Her existence in this house was dangerous. She didn’t know why the woman wanted her, but she did. She was sure of it.
Tristin stared at her, waiting for an answer, so Neoma put her book down and crawled up to lay side by side with Tristin. “I think I had a nightmare last night.”
Tristin paled beneath her tan. “About vampires?”
Neoma glanced at Tristin sharply. “Why would you ask that?”
Tristin looked away, looking a bit embarrassed. “I don’t know. I thought maybe that’s why you don’t want to read the book anymore? Because it gave you nightmares?”
Neoma didn’t think the book had triggered her memory, but now that she’d dreamed about sharp teeth and pain, the book was a painful reminder. But she couldn’t tell Tristin that, so instead she asked, “Have you ever seen a real vampire before?”
Tristin’s breath caught, eyes glinting with excitement. She bit her lip, glancing at her bedroom door, before dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Once. Last year. Isa, Alex, and Gen killed one. Isa cut off its head with a machete and then ripped out its heart with her hand. Punched a giant hole right through its chest.”
Neoma rolled to her side, tucking one arm under her head. Tristin did the same, mirroring her position without thought. “How do you know that?” Neoma asked, keeping her voice quiet too.
“Anytime they kill something on patrol; they have to photograph it for Allister. That’s Quinn’s dad. He’s the head of the witches’ council.”
Neoma’s response was a whisper. “I’ve met him. He’s mean.”
Tristin nodded in agreement. “Quinn stole the photos from his dad’s desk while he was there visiting his sister, Astrid.” Tristin made an ugly face, which Neoma assumed meant Tristin didn’t like Astrid. “He brought the pictures to school to show us.”
“Do you still have the photos?”
Tristin’s face fell. “No. Alex saw us looking at them in the hallway and took them back. He said he wouldn’t tell Allister what we’d done.”
* * *
“He sounds nice.”
“He’s okay, I guess, for a wit
ch but he’s only nice to us because he’s super in love with Isa.” She made another silly face, eyes going googly.
Neoma laughed, but something about that made Neoma feel weird, kind of sick in her stomach. “Does Isa like him too?”
Tristin scoffed. “No, definitely not. Isa would never date a witch. She’s totally in love with Wren, but she won’t admit it cause she’s stubborn. She thinks that everybody is judging her if she’s not perfect all the time.”
Neoma felt something catch in her chest. “Do you think she loves Wren?”
Tristin licked her lower lip, nodding. “Would that be bad?”
Neoma shook her head, vigorously. She would love to stay there forever. She just wanted to be safe if she did. She wanted all of them to be safe. But Neoma didn’t know if that was possible anymore.
They fell quiet. After a while, Tristin asked. “Have you ever seen a real vampire?”
Neoma didn’t answer. She didn’t really know. Was the dragon a vampire? She shrugged, distracting from the question asked by asking one of her own. “What did it look like? The one you saw in the pictures?”
“I only saw its head and its chest, but it looked like an average vampire. Hairless, skin shiny like gray leather, no lips, teeth like a shark. Hideous,” Tristin said. “Not at all like the vampires in books or on television.”
Neoma hesitated before asking, “Have you heard of other kinds of vampires? Do you think all vampires look like that?”
“I hope not. I hope somewhere out there, cute vampires exist. Then I can marry one.”
Neoma scrunched up her nose. “They drink blood, and they can’t go out in the sun without exploding. It doesn't sound like they’d be fun to date.”
Tristin shrugged. “I’m a reaper, who am I to judge?”
Neoma processed that information. “I thought Kai was the reaper. You’re a soul collector too?”
Tristin looked annoyed like it wasn’t the first time she’d had this conversation with somebody. “I’m a banshee. Or I was. I screamed once a long time ago right before something terrible happened, but it never happened again. Kai says my powers are gone, but Allister says they’re just sleeping.”
“I thought there could only be one reaper at a time in a family?”
Tristin licked her lower lip like she was trying to think of how to explain. “Allister said that our magic split when we were still inside our mom’s belly. He said it only happened because we are twins.”
Neoma stared at Tristin with wide eyes. She’d never met a banshee. She’d thought they were extinct. That’s what Ezri said. But Tristin said Belle Haven had all kinds of creatures living there without fear of being killed. Maybe there were more elementals like Neoma. The thought made her feel less lonely somehow. “So, because you’re a banshee, you wouldn’t mind dating somebody who drank blood?” She couldn’t imagine dating anybody who craved blood bad enough to bite someone, much less kill them. A wave of nausea rolled over her as she remembered the blood in the corn maze. The stench of it. It made her shiver. She pushed the thought away. “Banshees don’t drink blood, though. Do you really want a husband that eats people? I bet their breath smells awful.”
Tristin thought about it, before laughing. “Yeah, probably. I guess it’s only good in books.” Neoma joined Tristin’s laughter. After a minute, Tristin looked at her. “So, did you? Have a nightmare about vampires?”
Neoma’s laughter died, she did the only thing she could think to do. “I don’t know. I feel like I did but I can’t remember everything.” The lie felt like a lump in her throat.
Tristin leaned in. “I think I did too.”
“Really?”
Tristin nodded, suddenly looking distressed. “Yeah, but they didn’t look like normal vampires.”
Neoma entwined her fingers with Tristin’s, wanting to do something to make her friend feel better. Had Tristin dreamed of her vampires? Of the dragon and the hollow people? “Mine either.”
Tristin looked at her then, gaze sharp. “I think you were in my dream too…but I’m not sure.”
Neoma was sure. Tristin wasn’t dreaming; she was sharing Neoma’s memory. She just didn’t know why. It seemed unfair that Tristin should suffer through the things that happened to Neoma and not know why. Should she tell her? “Tristin, are we friends?”
Tristin scoffed. “We’re better than friends; we’re sisters. You and Wren are going to live here with us forever.”
Neoma needed to tell her about the dragon. About the hollow people. The need to tell her was clawing at her chest. Wasn’t it safer for her to know?
But before she could say anything the dragon’s voice echoed in her head.
Go ahead, tell her. I’ll swallow her whole and make you watch, little fae.
She gripped Tristin’s hand tighter, trying to shut out the voice in her head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Let’s go back to reading for a while, okay?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Wren
Wren stood alone at the counter in the kitchen, mind somewhere far away as he chopped vegetables for the salad. The kitchen was warm and comfortable. The smell of Isa’s beef stew and the
bread baking in the oven had Wren’s stomach rumbling. Isa had agreed to run with him tomorrow. That was a good sign. He hoped that once her wolf met his, she’d understand their bond. Once Isa accepted him as her mate, they could focus on piecing Neoma’s shattered psyche back together.
Wren couldn’t stop the memory of Neoma in that car with Dylan and that girl. Had his brother done all the damage he’d seen in that mirror? There were so many scars. Was his brother just some blood junkie like Isa’s source suggested. His brother had always been a bastard, but he’d never thought he’d physically hurt Neoma. He clenched his jaw until his teeth ached, trying to force down the rage boiling like acid in his stomach. He cursed as the knife slipped and he narrowly missed cutting himself.
He shook off the thought, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. Neoma was safe for now, upstairs playing with kids her age, her heartbeat steady and her voice happy. He’d figure out what happened to her and then he’d make sure that anybody who touched her never touched anything ever again even if that meant going up against his father.
Wren glanced up as Isa floated down the stairs in a short white dress that hugged her figure. She had her hair piled on her head in a way that looked both casual and elegant. She’d applied makeup. Jeweled purple tones accented her moss green eyes, and she wore black liner, sharp enough to slit a man’s throat. But it was her lips that drew his attention, not because of any lipstick, but because she bit her bottom lip nervously when she saw him, eyes skirting away like she was suddenly feeling shy.
“You look beautiful…but you always look beautiful.”
“You haven’t seen me in the morning.”
Wren smirked at her. “Actually, I have. You spent three hours drooling on my chest last night, and you were still beautiful.”
Isa flushed, glancing up at him from under thick black lashes before clearing her throat, gaze falling to the cutting board. “What did that cucumber ever do to you?” she asked.
He sighed, setting the knife down. It was far too close to the full moon to let his mind wander to thoughts of revenge, but he didn’t know how to hide his fury. Isa wrapped her arms around him from behind, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades before resting her head against his back. Wren didn’t know who was more grateful, him or his wolf.
“It’s going to be okay,” Isa murmured.
He nodded though she couldn’t see him. The feel of her pressed against him, had him relaxing in seconds until her hands crept up under his shirt. Her fingers traced the plains and angles of his abdomen, her thumbs tracing along the ridges of his hipbones, dipping just under the waistband of his jeans. He sucked in a breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you are gonna have to stop that right now unless you’re prepared to lose your virginity in the kitchen pan
try.”
Isa bit his shoulder blade through his t-shirt, and he snarled, partially shifting as he felt her claws pricking against his skin. Then her hands were gone, and she was stepping away from him. “To be continued,” she promised, as a car pulled into the driveway.
She walked to the stove, lowering the temperature on the burner and removing the lid from the stew, stirring the contents. “Almost ready. Maybe ten more minutes.”
“Are you sure this is the right thing to do,” Wren asked suddenly.
Isa turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“What if she’s better off not remembering? What if Ezri took her memories of what happened because it was just too much for her to handle? What if all we’re doing is satisfying our own curiosity and condemning her to relive a trauma she can’t handle?”
Isa’s gaze softened, standing on tiptoe to press her palms to his cheeks. “Ezri didn’t intend to take those memories from Neoma forever. If she did, she never would have told her how to reverse the spell.”
Wren wanted to believe her, he did. “I know that Ezri says something bad is coming, but maybe we can handle it without doing this to her.”
“Ezri and Neoma have to know what happened to Dylan…maybe even what happened to Magna…but most importantly, they know why Dylan was hurting Neoma, and we need to know that too. Especially if Dylan wasn’t doing this alone.”
“I’d spend the rest of my life never knowing what happened to Dylan if it meant she could live safe and happy.”
Isa gave him a sad smile. “I know, baby, but how can we keep Neoma safe if we don’t know what we’re protecting her from?”
Wren’s brows shot up in surprise. Baby. Isa flushed red to the roots of her hair. “Shut up,” she said before he could say anything.
* * *
The front door opened and closed. “We’re here,” a familiar voice called from the foyer. Isa’s friend Gen. She’d brought Hadley. “Something smells good. I’m starving.” The girl dragged out the word starving as if it had been days since her last meal.
