The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  I pivoted around to face him. His smile was wide, but didn’t exude its usual charm. “Hey, H. How was New Bodega? Did you find some nutrition drinks for Dani?”

  His smile faltered a bit, and his brows pinched together, like he wasn’t sure he should say.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Nobody had any?” I wasn’t sure what we would do if her nausea kept acting up.

  “No, I traded a few of my tinctures—the alcoholic kind”—he winked—“for a case of them. I even threw in a few of Dani’s herbal remedies so I could get an assortment of flavors.” He flashed his Harper-smile at Dani. “I hope you like strawberry and chocolate. He only gave me one vanilla.”

  Dani let a small smile play on her lips, and she gave him a thumbs-up. “Sounds good. Thanks for doing that for me.”

  “Of course. Besides, it gave me a guinea pig to test my new concoctions out on.” Harper’s eyebrows danced, and I appreciated his attempt to keep the mood light.

  I snorted. “Great, I can see it now. You’ll be a big-time bootlegger in no time.” I stood up, wiping my hands on my jeans.

  Harper winked again, though like before, his smile didn’t quite touch his eyes. He was exhausted and worry creased the skin around his eyes, though he tried to hide it. “You know I like to ruffle feathers, Baby Girl.”

  “Oh, don’t I know it,” I grumbled and turned to Dani, who was now standing beside me. “How does a nutrition shake sound?” I asked, hopeful. “Think you can keep it down?”

  “I guess we’ll see.” Both of us shrugged, though we were far from indifferent about it, and Dani started toward the house.

  “I’ll be right behind you, D.”

  Dani and I exchanged glances, and she offered me a sympathetic smile, her gaze sliding to Harper a moment. “It’s okay, Zo. I think I might lie down after my snack.”

  “Okay,” I said, distracted as I saw Biggs prominent in Harper’s mind. “How is he?” I asked, my gaze leveling on Harper. “I mean, him and the twins. Are they, you know, okay?” I’d been thinking about them a lot, especially since finding out Dani was pregnant.

  “He seems a little frazzled, but yeah, I think they’re doing okay.”

  “Yeah?” The knot in my chest loosened but didn’t disappear. “Well, that’s good.” I missed them like crazy, and the fact that Biggs and the kids weren’t around because of me made the sting of their absence feel like a yawning emptiness, no matter the months that had passed since Biggs had stormed out of here.

  Harper’s eyes brightened. “He actually helped me find the guy to trade with for Dani’s shakes. Seemed pretty concerned about her situation.”

  “That’s good,” I said a little too weakly. There’d been a lingering, burning question I’d had for him since his heated argument with Gabe in the clinic. “Hey, H,” I finally said. “I saw a flash of your vision yesterday morning.” I turned back to the scraggly plant at my feet. I didn’t want to see that look of sympathy on Harper’s face as he remembered it, just like I didn’t want to bother him with more questions he either didn’t want to or couldn’t answer, but I had to. “It was about Dani and the baby, wasn’t it?” I said quietly, nervous to know about the vision in its entirety. I busied myself with pruning, waiting for his response.

  “You saw that, huh?”

  I nodded. “What was it, H?” I felt it, his concern for Dani, more than I saw anything telling in his mind.

  “Just a glimpse of Dani, struggling—a lot—nothing that we haven’t already seen, but enough to know that there’s little hope of finding—”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I figured as much.” I pulled what was left of the dying leaves off with more fervor than was probably necessary as I busied myself. The whole thing looked more like a weed than a medicinal component anyway, but what did I know?

  As I tore the last leaf off, I paused. “H, what’s that smell?” I scanned the area around me. Reluctantly, I brought my fingers to my nose and cringed. “What the hell is this plant?” I pivoted back to Harper, who simply stood there, watching me with a shit-eating grin on his face. My face scrunched as I brought my hand back to my nose, trying to figure out how something so ordinary-looking could smell so pungent. “It smells like…curdled milk.” I tried to shake the scent away, hoping it hadn’t seeped into my fingertips or singed into my nose.

  Harper chuckled. “It’s Valerian. The root’s an anxiety suppressor.”

  “Really? As much as it disgusts me to think of ingesting this, I could probably use a shot of this stuff.” Interest piqued, I made the stupid decision to smell it again, then wiped my fingers off on my pants. “Nope, never mind. It’s not worth it.”

  “Here,” Harper said, and he tossed me his flask. “Why don’t you take a shot of this instead?”

  My eyes widened with delight. “Doctor,” I said, mouth agape and muddy hand against my chest, “I’m not sure whether I should be elated or think you completely distasteful and unprofessional.”

  Harper shoved his hands into his pockets, his smile once again weak, but present, as always. “Lucky I’m not really a doctor then,” he said. Even with his island-dark skin, I could see the shadows beneath his eyes and the exhaustion that filled their green depths.

  I twisted off the cap and followed him over to a fallen log that stretched out beneath one of the nearby oak trees. When I brought the cool metal of the flask to my mouth, I wasn’t surprised to taste the bite of rum, but the aftertaste was more acerbic than I’d expected. “Delightful,” I lied, blowing out the fumes. “Made this all by yourself, did you?” But for all the shit I gave him, his special concoction did just the trick, both enlivening and steadying every one of my senses as it coated my insides.

  I plopped down beside him and let out a deep breath. “So, how long is Dani’s whole morning sickness, can’t-hold-anything-down period supposed to last?”

  Harper closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the trunk of the oak whose severed limb we were resting on. “If it’s just baby morning sickness, it should end soon…I hope. But if it’s stress and nerves and Jason sickness, I’m not sure. And then there’s the drifting…”

  I’d had a feeling he would say that.

  I took another swig of Harper’s home brew and handed him back his flask. “I haven’t had a shot of anything in a while.” My eyes began to water, just a little. “Too bad Dani can’t have a drink. She could use one,” I muttered.

  “How’s she holding up?” he asked, taking a swig and staring down at the small metal canister.

  I nudged his shoulder. “Strangely, I think she’s doing a little better now. It’s like she has more to live for, you know?”

  “Makes sense,” Harper said. He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes closed, and I sensed his thoughts as he considered his multiple conversations with Gabe—what Gabe knew about all the failed pregnancies—in addition to how dangerous carrying a child through the first trimester would normally be, and added to that the heap of extra stress that Dani had been under lately.

  “Hey, H,” I said after a moment. “I know you don’t agree with Gabe so much, but do you really think Dani’s in danger?”

  His eyelids cracked open, and he stared blankly ahead. “I think that it doesn’t matter what Dr. Wesley wrote or what happened with Sarah or what Becca says. The truth is, we have no idea what Dani’s in for, especially given your family’s bloodline, and without the machines and conveniences that would help us find out, it’s a waiting game. We can hope and prepare all we want, but there’s never any certainty with childbirth, and that scares the shit out of me.”

  “Too bad you can’t choose your visions,” I said wistfully. “That would sure be helpful right about now.”

  Harper nodded. Sarah had been pregnant for about five months before she had the twins. I couldn’t help wondering how we were going to get through the next four months—Dani without Jason and me without a healthy Dani, without my brother, and possibly without Jake. He’d been gone so much, se
arching and frustrated and confused, I was beginning to feel more alone than I’d felt in a long time.

  “But you have the rest of us to help, H. Despite your differences with Gabe, he’s a really good person to have around. And you have me, too. I’ll watch the little one’s aura; it’s already getting stronger. And to be honest, it’s the only one I see now consistently. Hopefully it keeps getting stronger.” I smiled, hoping my reassurances would put that real, true Harper smile back into his eyes. “That’s got to be a good sign.”

  Then, I realized something. “We’re really lucky you stayed behind this last search. I don’t think Dani would’ve gotten through it without having you here.” I leaned back, my shoulder brushing his. I replayed her collapsing just before we’d reached the house.

  “Yes she would’ve. She’s got you, Baby Girl.”

  I rested my head on Harper’s shoulder. “Thanks, H.” I thought about all that Dani and I had been through in the last year, and it seemed that the coming months would be the most grueling yet. “Did you know,” I said, thinking about how painfully amazing it was that Dani was pregnant with my brother’s child, “Dani’s been in love with Jason since the first day she met him, back when we were in elementary school?” I sat up to gauge Harper’s reaction.

  “Really?” He raised an eyebrow, and amusement lifted some of the gloom from his voice.

  “Yep. And no matter what he says, I think he always saw something special in her, too.” I thought back to our freshman year of high school, when Jason found me and Dani down on the beach, having a bonfire with a group of guys from school. He’d been beyond livid. Until that night, he’d never scolded me and Dani both for anything.

  “You shouldn’t be hanging around these assholes,” he’d said. “You shouldn’t be down here to begin with. It’s dangerous. What were you two thinking?” But Jason had always known that Dani and I had gone down to the beach at night hundreds of times before. We’d watched stars and gotten drunk and camped out when we just needed to get away. He’d known all of that and had never cared. But suddenly, because two of the most popular, hottest guys in our class were with us—one of them rumored to have a huge crush on Dani—Jason had suddenly felt protective.

  “Just when I think I remember the moment my brother started looking at her a little differently,” I added, “I find another hidden jewel of a memory. I actually wonder if there was ever a time when he didn’t love Dani in some way.” And it was true. As difficult as it had been to digest the fact that they were sleeping together in the beginning, now it wasn’t surprising to me at all. “Just goes to show you that whatever is supposed to happen will happen, I guess. No matter the circumstances along the way.” But then I regretted my words. It was hard to stomach the reality that Dani was having Jason’s child and he was gone. Was that supposed to have happened? Thinking about it brought the ebbing unease crashing back over me.

  Memories were terrible that way, complex and filled with ravines that swallowed you up and threatened to drown you. They always seemed to surface in your strongest moments, knocking you back down to a pathetic heap of despondency.

  “Zoe!” Sam’s voice echoed across the garden, rousing me.

  I sat up and peered over leafy herbs at his small form, his bow draped over his shoulder and my crossbow in his hand.

  “Archery practice this afternoon or what?” he called.

  “Better get moving, Baby Girl,” Harper said, winking at me as I stood. “I hear Sam is still kicking your ass during practice. Seems to be the norm lately.”

  “Oh, is that what you heard?” I sneered. “Well, it’s true,” I admitted. I actually wasn’t sure if I would be any good today either; too many distractions, though the two shots of moonshine or whatever it was were kicking in. It was good feeling a little less tense.

  Harper smiled and stretched as he stood. “I’ll finish up here. Sam’s too excited to deny this go-around, and you two deserve a little bit of fun.”

  “Thanks, H.” I raised up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You’re the best.”

  “Don’t forget you said that,” he called behind me as I maneuvered through the rows of herbs, heading toward Sam.

  Sam’s face brightened as I drew closer. I figured today was as good a day as any to have my ass handed to me again. Sure, I could hit a target, but never with the hairsbreadth precision that Sam could—though it was fun to try.

  But the second I smiled at that, I felt like a horrible person. Is it too soon?

  “Here,” Sam said, and he handed me my crossbow.

  “Thanks, Sam,” I said, and grabbing hold of the grip that was heavier than I remembered, I followed after him.

  When we reached the shooting range on the other side of the pond, I eyed the painted, human-shaped target that was marred with numerous bullet and arrow holes. Pausing for a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder if Jason had been scared when the trader had shot him or if he’d been too worried about Dani to care.

  I pivoted to another target, to the outline of a buck grazing behind a tree.

  “You sure you want to do this, Zoe?” Sam asked, concern softening his voice. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’ll understand. It’s just practice.”

  I offered him a false smile and nodded toward the targets. “Of course I want to,” I said. “You know me. I’m always up for a challenge.” Leaning my crossbow against my leg, I tucked the loose strands of hair behind my ears and readied myself to get schooled by a ten-going-on-eleven-year-old.

  Sam smiled. I could tell he was anxious for things to get back to a semblance of normal. Although he and Jason hadn’t been extremely close, Jason had still been a prominent part of all of our lives, and his absence was acute to everyone.

  I took a deep breath and then another, determined to give Sam a run for his money. With my crossbow loaded, I released the safety and found my shooting stance. Deciding on a lung shot, I zeroed in on my target, aligning it perfectly in my sights. Just as I was about to press the release, a strange sensation filled me, making my fingers and toes tingle.

  “Why are you so sad?” A voice whispered in my ear.

  The arrow was long gone by the time I realized I’d even pressed the release. In a second, I was turned around, my heart racing as my gaze darted around the targets, the trees. Sam was five feet away, and he had a sheepish grin on his face.

  “You missed it by a mile,” he gloated.

  “Why did you do that?” I asked.

  He frowned. “Do what?”

  “Distract me like that. That’s low, even for you, Sam.”

  Sam was shaking his head, even before he opened his mouth to say anything. “I didn’t do anything.”

  I pivoted right, glancing around the house, down the drive, unable to shake the unsettled feeling that lingered.

  “I’m not a cheater, Zoe.”

  I registered the hurt on Sam’s face. “I know, Sam. I’m sorry. I just…I thought you whispered something to distract me. It was probably just the wind.”

  Letting out a deep breath, I squinted downrange, unable to even find my arrow. I truly had missed my mark by a handful of feet, at least.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam asked. When I looked at him, his head was tilted in concern.

  I winked, rallying myself to ignore the surge of goose bumps that now covered my skin. “I think your skill is just too intimidating for me, Sam.”

  His grin turned into a laugh, but I couldn’t help glancing around the yard one last time, just to be sure there was no one watching.

  13

  DANI

  DECEMBER 9, 1AE

  The Farm, California

  Lying on my back on my bed, the dim afternoon light filtering in through the curtains, I traced the stitching of Grams’s quilt with the fingertips of one hand. My other hand was resting on my belly, where it usually seemed to be lately. It wasn’t that I could feel any bump or movement—it was too soon for that kind of thing, even with the accelerate
d pregnancies we had to look forward to these days—but rather that I could sense something. A presence. My child. Jason’s child.

  The thought was bittersweet, as usual. And though the sweetness had a tendency to outweigh the bitterness, I seemed to be in a bit of a funk. This time, the bitterness was winning.

  I glanced at my afternoon snack, a strawberry nutrition shake sitting, half-consumed, on the bedside table. It was settling in my stomach just fine—for once—but no matter how many pep talks I gave myself, no matter how worried I was about getting sufficient nutrition, I couldn’t bring myself to finish the drink. I had no appetite at all.

  And to make matters worse, I could feel the minds of my favorite drifting companions tugging at me. It was like they were unintentionally begging me to come play with them, run with them, hunt with them…become them, just for a little while. It was beyond tempting, but the longer I struggled with my lack of appetite, the more I started to suspect that it was linked not only to my Jason-related stress and grief and to my pregnancy, but to my inability to sleep for even a few minutes without my subconscious opting to hitchhike a ride with one of my animal companions.

  I closed my eyes and tried my hardest to block the lure of the animal minds while simultaneously fighting off the bone-deep exhaustion turning my mind into barely set Jell-O. Make it stop. I just want to sleep. Make it stop. I just want to sleep. Make it stop. I just want to sleep. Those two thoughts swirled around and around in my mind. I really, really, really just want to sleep. I need to sleep…

  And then, in the moment between one breath and the next, between one heartbeat and the next, the minds—human and animal alike—vanished from my telepathic senses. Absolutely and completely. My telepathic senses themselves seemed to turn off. Just like when Jason was nulling me.

  My eyes popped open, and I sat up like I’d been electrocuted. I had no doubt; I was being nulled. I was being nulled—as in, affected by Jason’s Ability. Which meant he had to be alive. And he had to be okay.