by T. M. Cromer
“What are they talking about?”
GiGi glanced over and shrugged. “It’s anyone’s guess. Most likely the effects of your stasis.”
“Effects?”
“You cannot return to the living world without side effects, dear. It appears your anger is yours. Everyone reacts differently.”
“Does it go away?” The idea of walking around pissed off all the time unnerved her.
“Mostly. You may be quicker to anger from here on out. You may not.” GiGi opened a black bag and pulled out a sachet.
“What’s that?”
“It’s willow bark tea infused with chamomile. It should help with the headaches you’ll have. Those are normal the first week and should go away. If they don’t, have Nash call me.” GiGi smoothed back a strand of Ryanne’s hair. “Let him help you through this, dear. He loves you.”
Irritation welled. “So because he loves me, everything should be all roses?”
“I didn’t say that. But because he loves you, he’ll find a way to help you get to a place of acceptance. He’ll also find a way to temper your anger.”
Ryanne shot a side glance toward Nash. His solemn expression made her shy away.
“Bear in mind that you are powerful in your own right, Ryanne,” GiGi cautioned. “If you don’t find a way to control your emotions, you’ll end up doing exactly what Serqet wanted and taking out everyone around you with your power.”
With a jerky nod to acknowledge GiGi’s warning, Ryanne shoved back the blanket and stood on shaky legs. Closing her eyes, she visualized blood flow to her limbs and felt the resulting strengthening of her muscles.
“Well done, dear.”
“Thanks.” Ryanne headed for her bedroom but stopped when Nash held up his hand. “I want to see my sister.”
“You will. Wait a minute.”
He left her standing next to a silent, watchful Alastair.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re judging me?” she asked.
“I’m not. However, I am still here to insure you don’t become a threat to those I love.”
Before she could comment, Nash had returned. In his hand, he held an envelope addressed to her. Seeing Rylee’s handwriting caused Ryanne’s heart to hammer.
“I think you should read this before you go in there,” he told her quietly.
She placed her hands behind her back, unable to let herself accept the envelope. “What does it say?” she asked hoarsely.
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to intrude on what was between you two.”
She frowned, incapable of removing her gaze from his. “Will you read it to me?”
His eyes searched hers, looking for what, she didn’t know.
Finally, he withdrew the note and unfolded it.
He began to read. “Ryanne, if you are reading this, I grew a set of balls and went through with the transmutation spell. Please know, it was what I wanted. Know that although I was always a shit of a sister…” Nash sneezed and balled his free hand. Ryanne felt the push of power to ward off his curse. “…I wanted to do a selfless act on your behalf for once in my life.”
A wry half-smile graced his features. “Nash is fine as hell…” Here he sneezed again. “…but more importantly, he’s kind and thoughtful. Don’t screw up your second chance to be happy.” He grew serious and met her tearful gaze. “He loves you, Ry. I’ve never seen a love like that. It’s in everything about him: the way he looks at you, the way he says your name, the way he will do anything for your happiness.”
Nash’s attention went back to the scribble on the note. Ryanne caught the final words and fought not to break down. “I love you, sister, but I’ll be happy to see our parents again. I do this for both of us. Don’t be sad. Peace out. Leelee.”
He folded the paper and handed it to her.
“I’ve prepared her for your goodbye,” he said softly.
Her anger didn’t seep away as expected. Instead, it intensified, making her hands tremble and her fingertips warm. In a flash, Nash snatched the letter from her hands.
“Careful. If you light it on fire, you can never get it back.”
“I’m so mad at her,” she whispered. The fierce rage made her throat raw and her head hurt with all the words she couldn’t say.
“Talk to me, Ryanne,” Nash said achingly. “Let me help you.”
Love, understanding, and need poured off of him, threatening to suffocate her on the spot. She couldn’t handle his pain on top of her own.
“Leave me alone.”
If she’d slapped him, she didn’t think he could be more shocked. His mouth dropped open and his eyebrows rose, almost reaching his hairline.
When he would have reached for her, she tucked her hands behind her and stepped back. “Don’t touch me. I mean it. I want you to leave me alone.”
As she watched, he paled and his irises darkened to a murky hazel.
“Sure.”
She blinked, and he was gone.
“A little harsh, don’t you think?”
“You need to go too, Mr. Thorne.”
“Why? So you can wallow in your grief and pretend it’s all Nash’s fault?” He moved to within a foot of her. “Don’t be a fool, girl.”
“A fool? I was a fool to trust any of you.”
“Need I remind you, it was your sister who set this whole thing in motion?” He leaned forward, his anger and menace rivaling her own twisted emotions. “She was the one who sentenced Nash to death without ever taking into account your relationship with him. She cared not if you loved him. Your sister systematically set out to seduce him, steal information, and murder him.”
His tone was as icy as she’d ever heard, and he wasn’t finished.
“On the other hand, he tried to find a way to save you without costing your sister her life. Last night, while your sister slept in a bed down the hall, while she was allowed to decide if she wanted to sacrifice her life for yours, he read through book after book, trying to find a spell to revive you without cost to your sister. For you!”
“I didn’t ask him to bring me back,” she screamed. Fire flared to life from the palms of her hands and continued to spread up her arms.
The overhead smoke detectors went into overdrive with their ear-piercing alarm.
GiGi rushed forward and flung open the windows to alleviate the building smoke. She stepped up beside her brother and clasped his hand. Lifting her opposite hand, she swirled it in a continuous circular pattern. The effect was like a high-powered fan, and the sulfuric-scented air blew out the open window.
GiGi reversed the motion of her hand, and damp air filled the room.
Alastair simply snapped his fingers, which pulled the moisture from the air and doused her arms.
Ryanne stared at her dripping hands in shocked wonder. What the hell had just happened? Her heart rate increased to such a level, she feared heart failure. Too terrified to look at either of these powerful beings, she closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”
“I do.” The understanding in Alastair’s voice floored her.
Opening her eyes, she locked onto his smiling face.
“You needed to release the rage, child. I helped you with that.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You were holding back for my son. A small part of you didn’t want to risk physically hurting him, so you drove him away. Now that you’ve released the initial fury, you can process what has happened and begin to heal.”
“You experienced amplified stages of grief,” GiGi explained with a hug. “Allow my brother to help you one more time, now.”
“Help me how?”
“Al, care to share?” GiGi asked with a ghost of a smile.
“I can restore some of what was lost, if you’ll allow me.”
What was she missing here? She looked between the siblings and searched for the unspoken answer. Finally, it clicked. Part of her lost soul.
“Does it hurt?”
>
“A little.”
“Okay.”
Alastair placed one palm flat over the area of her heart and the other horizontally across her forehead. “Now breathe in. Feel your cells warm and let the magic flow through you. Pull it deep into yourself until you experience the burning. When you can stand no more, I’ll know.”
Taking a deep breath, Ryanne did as instructed. As her insides heated to what felt like molten lava, she cried out. Only then did Alastair drop his hands. Oddly, her body cooled almost instantaneously.
“That’s crazy!”
He shrugged. “How do you feel?”
She took stock and realized the emotional distance she was experiencing had lessened. “Better, I think. Thank you.”
GiGi moved forward with another hug. The lightest scent of gardenias permeated the air around them.
“That was my mother’s favorite perfume,” Ryanne told her.
“I know, dear. Go say goodbye to your sister. When you are ready, we will see she is entombed in your family’s crypt.”
“That sounds ominous,” she muttered with a shiver.
Alastair smiled slightly. “Shall I retrieve Nash?”
“I need a little time with my sister first.” As they turned to leave, she called out. “Thank you. Both of you.”
They gave her matching nods and left.
The silence in her apartment was disturbing after the noise of the last twenty-four hours. Although she didn’t want to, she stepped through the door of her bedroom. The sight brought her up short. Deep red rose petals covered the mattress Rylee rested upon. Surrounding her body were cheerful white daisies. Nash had conjured her sister a long lavender robe, and a circlet of flowers crowned her head. Her hands were joined and resting below her breasts. She looked peaceful, as if she were sleeping in a meadow.
Ryanne raised a hand to her throat and fought to hold back the sobs. Nash’s thoughtfulness tore at her heart. She’d wronged him when she sent him away. Kneeling by the bed, she gave way to her anguish.
Chapter 26
Twenty minutes. It was all the time Nash could stand to wait after his father left. Alastair had explained away Ryanne’s reaction but had also cautioned Nash to give her time to herself to process all that had gone down that morning.
Because teleporting into Ryanne’s space seemed arrogant and assuming, Nash took the time to drive from his home to hers. He spent the next seven minutes in his car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and staring at Ryanne’s lighted bedroom window, like some crazy-ass stalker.
A sharp rap on the window startled a yelp from him.
When he got out of the car, it was to find Quentin not trying too hard to fight back a grin.
“What the hell are you doing here, man?” Nash sneezed and grunted his thanks when Quentin balled his hand into a fist to stave off the closest raccoons.
“Your father asked me to hang out and watch over Ryanne.”
“Thank you.”
“You were there when we needed you. This is a small repayment.”
“Still, I’m grateful. How are you feeling from yesterday’s little nap in the glen?”
“GiGi patched me up, right as rain.” He gestured to the apartment with a thumb over his shoulder. “I just saw your girl cross from the bedroom to the kitchen. I think it’s safe for you to go up.”
“You heading home to Holly?”
“Yep.”
“Give my sister a hug for me.”
“Will do. Take care of yourself, too, Nash. You need rest.”
“Yes, mother.”
Quentin flipped him a bird as he mounted his Harley. “Later, loser.” He gunned the throaty beast and headed out of the parking lot with a wave. Although it didn't chase away the worry in the pit of his stomach, Nash's lips quirked upward at Quentin's well-hidden concern. A few months ago, he never would've imaged his sister’s happy-go-lucky husband caring if he lived or died.
He turned toward Ryanne’s apartment building and stopped short. The woman herself stood at the main door, looking like hell. She was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Am I welcome?” he asked roughly.
“Always.”
He ate up the distance between them and lifted her as she jumped. He held her tightly against him with her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms firmly locked around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” they gushed simultaneously.
They parted to look at one another.
“I should never have dragged you into this stinking mess.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Nash. None of it. I know that. Knew that, but it was like—”
He stopped her apology with a gentle kiss. “All I care about is that you are okay. Right now, in this moment. I need to know you are okay.”
She gave him a tearful nod. “For the most part.”
“That’s good enough.” He kissed her again. “Want me to be romantic and carry you up the stairs?”
“Three flights?” she asked skeptically.
He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I do have a spell that can make you light as a feather.”
“If you’re calling me fat, Nash, we’re done.”
“Pfft. It’s more along the lines that I’m a book nerd who seldom works out.”
“I’m going to call you a liar. I’ve seen you naked.” She sighed and released him. “I can walk.”
He clasped her hand and tugged her into the building. As they made their way upstairs, he thought about all the things he wanted to say. All the promises he wanted to make. There would be time for all of that, thanks to her twin’s sacrifice. For now, she needed to heal. To be given the space a thoughtful partner would allow.
“I can take care of your sister for you if you’d like.”
“Your aunt already said she could make arrangements for the crypt.” She tugged him to a halt on the last landing. “How does the death certificate thing work? I assume we need documentation. How do we… hide what happened?”
He raised his brows and waited.
“Oh, yeah, never mind. I suppose it’s a simple matter for people like us.”
“Simple enough,” he agreed. He didn’t care to have this type of conversation in the hall where anyone within hearing distance could listen in. He could cloak the sound, but he’d prefer to discuss this topic later. “Come on.”
“I’m not sure I can stay here tonight.”
“Okay. Let’s get a few of your things and head back to my place. I—”
A sixth sense had him spinning and tucking Ryanne against his chest. A bullet ricocheted off the wall by his head. When a hail of bullets began to pepper the hallway walls, Nash quickly shoved her up the stairs toward the top of the building.
Victor! It had to be.
Already he knew that teleporting was out of the question. Victor would have Blockers surrounding the building, but Nash had a plan in his back pocket. They only needed to make it to the roof, and they’d be golden.
When they reached Ryanne’s floor, she tried to bolt toward her door, but he dragged her onward. “Up. Keep going,” he urged.
“We’ll be trapped!”
“Shh, keep your voice down and move your ass.” He sneezed but didn’t have time to worry about his particular trash panda curse.
They made one more flight before Ryanne started to show signs of weakness. Looked like he would need his feather-light spell after all. “Climb on and don’t let go, no matter what.” With each step, he grunted out the words to the spell until she weighed next to nothing upon his back.
Just as he thought his heart would pound out of his chest and his lungs would cease to work, he burst through the rooftop exit. “Hop… off.” He pointed to the Rebar pole to his left even as he reached for the one to his right. With her help, he slid them into two-inch-thick steel brackets he’d had installed on either side of the door.
“How did you know?”
“My family has enemies.” He paused for a deep breath.
“As my employee and the love of my life, you fall under my protection.” He grinned and grabbed her hand. “Better to be prepared, no?”
They ran toward the westernmost side of the building.
“Who is after us, or shouldn’t I ask?”
“Victor. He wants the necklace.”
“But we don’t have it.”
He snorted.
“We do?”
“It’s in my pocket. All your anger tonight wasn’t your own.”
“I’m confused.”
“The explanation can wait. Put this on.”
She was dumbfounded when he dragged out a set of harnesses. “We are ten stories up. If you think I’m putting that thing on and scaling down this building, you’ve lost your mind.”
“Scaling, no. Zip lining, yes.” He tested all the fastenings and kissed her hard. “You’ve got this, babe.”
“Did you take into account the men on the ground with automatic weapons?” she screeched.
“I did. We aren’t going down. We’re going across. They’ll think we trapped ourselves up here to wait for assistance. Which reminds me…” He held up a finger and dug out his phone. No signal. “That bastard jammed the signal. Fuck!”
A strangled scream came from below. Nash peered over the edge and laughed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
A second scream echoed up to them.
“The raccoons!” she exclaimed, peering over the edge. “Good God, you really are brilliant.”
He grinned and swore longer and louder.
“Fall back! Fall back!”
More strangled screams mirrored the first.
“Shoot them! Shoot them!”
The distinct chirp of locusts echoed around them. Nash lifted his head from the scene below to check the surrounding buildings.
His father leaned back against the wall of an adjacent apartment complex, arms crossed over his chest. Laughter shook his frame when someone else screamed, “What the fuck?”
A low whistle caught Nash’s attention.
“Move away from the edge,” Knox called.
Nash hustled Ryanne about ten feet from the lip of the building. As they watched, Knox spread his arms, closed his eyes, and clapped. A low rumble started, and the building swayed beneath them.
“What is he doing?” she yelled.
