by Jade Alters
“I hate this!” Max says, shoving the book away. He gets up and paces around the room, and I sit back in my chair, suddenly feeling very tired. “I hate that she thought she needed to do this to herself. I wish we could have stopped her.”
“Alright.” Jared sits back and takes a breath, spreading his hands on the table. “I know we all want to go off half-cocked and confront this guy and find out exactly what his business is with Hope—"
“Damn right,” I mutter.
“But,” Jared says, “we’ve been invasive enough with her. We’ve been following her around, keeping an eye out without even telling her. I think we should try to get her to talk to us again before we go any further. I know we all want to protect her—I do too—but she is a grown woman, and she makes her own choices. Right?”
We all kind of mumble in the affirmative and Jared nods. “Okay,” he says. “So that’s what we’ll do next.”
Hope
The next day, I do have to call out from work again. I don’t know what Bobbi must think of me. He probably just thinks I’m sick, but knowing the truth myself, I feel as if everyone must know about me. I feel as if everyone around me knows the silly things I’ve done and what I must do now to fix them. I spend the day in bed, screwing around online and pretending I don’t know what’s coming.
My wizard hotties gave me links to their social media so I try to cheer myself up by looking at that stuff for a while. Dylan has the best Instagram account. It’s a little bit cheesy but in the sweetest way. He takes pictures of all the food that Freddie makes because Freddie has the best presentation. He also takes a lot of selfies and pictures of his abs. He takes candids of the other guys too. There’s a picture of him kissing Max on the cheek while he makes a funny face that just warms my heart. I see that Jared rants about his favorite TV shows on Facebook, and apparently, a lot of his opinions aren’t popular and then people reply to disagree and he fights with them, which only amuses me. Freddie obsessively writes Yelp reviews and then tweets links to them. His reviews are kind of pretentious, but I find them endearing. Max tweets a lot too. He’s always talking about being an EMT and he talks to a lot of other EMTs, and then he rants about his favorite bands.
I miss them. It’s good to look at this stuff, I tell myself. It’s motivating me to get this awful spell with Walter over with tonight. Then, he’ll fix my spell and then I can go out in public and even more importantly, hang out with my guys again. And maybe, if I’m very lucky, they’ll fall in love with me.
I feel good about that decision for all of a second, and then I burst into tears for what feels like the millionth time in a week. But I make myself get out of bed as sunset approaches. I take an extra long and extra hot shower. I have this gross feeling like Walter already has his hands on me. I dress in only a tank top and the shorts that I sleep in. It’s a dark thought, but I figure, I’m not going to be needing a lot of clothes. I’d rather save time not having to take too much off. I just wear a trench coat over top and put on my shoes.
Every little action feels like a stab in the heart. I feel as if I’m actually going off to my death and not to do this one disgusting thing.
Mille knows something is wrong. She keeps whimpering and trying to jump on me, and before I go, I plop down on the couch and let her jump in my lap. I give her lots of kisses and tell her everything is fine even as I’m wiping away tears.
“I miss my boys,” I say to Millie. She whines again and licks me. I feel as if I’m connected to them even now. I close my eyes for a minute and think of each of them and the last time they all held me in their arms. I think about them lending me their strength to do this, as awful as it is.
I hate the thought that even if I do end up in a relationship with these four wonderful men, I’ll never be able to tell them about any of this. It would always be between us.
“Don’t think about that now,” I say to myself, wiping my eyes. “Maybe someday. Yes, someday I will tell them. Assuming they’ll even have me after all of this.”
I’m on pins and needles, feeling sick with panic, and yet I dread leaving to embrace my fate. But when the sun sets, I force myself to my feet, grab my keys and phone, and make my way out the back door and through the woods to that swamp where I first saw the panther being killed.
It’s as if there’s a funeral dirge playing in my mind. Everything around me seems a little bit muted and grim. It’s even drizzling rain as I walk, and when it starts to rain a little heavier, I cinch my coat around me tighter, shivering. I stick my hands in my pockets and focus on walking; one step in front of the other.
“One night,” I whisper to myself. “It’s just one night.”
Jared
We give Hope one more day. I send her a couple of texts. I try not to sound too desperately weird about wanting to talk to her and help her out if something is wrong, but I probably still come off a little bit hysterical. It doesn’t feel awesome pretending I don’t know what’s going on, or rather, what’s probably going on anyway. We did tell her we wanted to keep an eye on her though, and it is our actual business. So she can’t be too shocked that we’ve uncovered this stuff once it all comes out.
The next night, we give up on trying to reach her through more appropriate means and head straight to her house. We walk since it’s pretty close. It’s chilly out and when it starts to rain, we keep our heads down, our hands shoved in our pockets. We tromp through the mud, and we don’t talk. I think all of us are pretty freaked out worrying about Hope and wondering just how much trouble she’s in. All I can hear is the puff of our breaths and the tap of raindrops falling on leaves, our shoes getting half stuck in the mud, the wetter and thicker it gets.
We get to Hope’s house and we all kind of line up in front of it as if waiting for something to happen. I just stare at the place for a second, and then I glance at the guys and head down the little stone walkway to the door. Her car is in the driveway so she should be home unless she ran somewhere.
I pound on the door and shout out to Hope. “Hey, Hope! It’s Jared! I’m here with all the guys! Hey, we really need to talk to you!”
Max says, “What if she won’t talk to us?”
I feel a sense of wanting to protect Hope stronger than maybe any other emotion I’ve ever fault. Damn propriety and being polite. I’m going to protect this woman whether she wants me to or not. If she wants to yell at me for it, I’ll just be happy she’s still alive.
“Then we break the door down,” I say darkly.
I pound on the door a little more and we call out for her but nothing happens. I stand back and tense up, but Max grabs me before I can break in. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s try the sense bond, huh? Before we actually damage her house?”
I lick my lips and take a breath. I’m having trouble being patient right now, but I nod and agree. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, Max. Let’s do it.”
We all link hands and focus on our bond to Hope and our connection to her. It doesn’t take long before we know exactly where she is. We even feel each other catch onto her all at once without having to ask aloud, which has never happened before. It makes me think that our connection to Hope is about more than this sense bond we created through the healing bond. It’s our love for Hope. It hasn’t been long, but I know that’s exactly what it is. She’s a shifter which means she’d eventually choose a mate, and I know there’s a lot tied up with magic and the fates for shifters and their mates. We may not be shifters, but maybe we’re her mates—all four of us. The very thought of that makes my heart swell in my chest.
We all know exactly where to go, and we walk around the house, heading through the woods, following the path laid out for us by our bond to Hope. It’s starting to rain harder now, and my hair is drenched. I push it back and sigh. It’s a warm spring rain. If these weren’t dangerous times, I might enjoy it. An image comes to me unbidden of walking with Hope in a warm spring rain. I feel a desperate desire to have her with us always. I know she would fit in with us perfectly (in so ma
ny ways). We could give her the room in the turret that she liked so much. That is, if she wants it. If she wants to stay in her own little house, that’s fine too. I think we’d all be willing to make all kinds of compromises if Hope agreed to be with us for the long haul. But I can imagine her being so happy in that room that she seemed to love so much. She could have her own little reading nook and her own space. I can imagine her eating with us and cuddling up with us to watch movies. I can imagine the nights of passion the five of us would share. It would be an idyllic life. It would be the life the five of us have truly always wanted without even knowing it.
“We’re close,” Freddie says, coming up next to me.
I nod silently and when we see a rustling in some ferns up ahead, I grab Freddie and gesture for everyone else to freeze. Hope has slowed down. She’s just up ahead near a big swamp. She doesn’t see us. We hear her talking to somebody, but we can’t make out what she’s saying. I step carefully over a log and peek around a tree. Hope is speaking to the dark wizard, I think. We never got a picture of him or anything, but I went down to Altha’s magic shop myself and she gave me enough of an idea. Yeah, it’s Walter alright.
Hope is all covered up again in her scarf, hat, and sunglasses. She’s wearing a trench coat on top of that, her hands shoved in her pockets. She’s keeping her head down, and if I had to make a guess based on her body language, I would guess that she looks afraid. I see Walter step towards her, and she turns away. It looks as though she’s trying to make a decision and is second-guessing herself. She’s so close to us that I think she can almost see us. Just then, the wizard walks away, laughing to himself as he picks up his cauldron to move it. It’s the perfect opportunity to just grab Hope and get her out of here. Whatever she’s here to do, it can’t be good.
“Grab her!” I say softly.
We all move at once, as quickly as possible. I get my arms around Hope and Max helps me, and the four of us take off into the woods.
I wouldn’t say it’s the perfect rescue. It would have been better, I guess, if we’d known what Hope wanted. But there’s no time for that, as we run through the woods.
Hope is squirming in my arms, and I shift around to carry her bridal style. She doesn’t weigh much, but it’s tricky to carry her as she tries to escape, while also running through the hazardous woods.
“Let go of me,” Hope cries. She wraps her arms around me even as she screams at me to let her go.
I sense her trying to shift and grimace, getting a firmer hold on her. She’s burrowing her head into my chest as she cries, as if hiding her face.
“He’s coming!” Dylan says as the five of us continue to run for the road. “He’s gaining on us!”
I turn to look back, and I see Walter booking it through the woods. Just as I catch sight of him, his eyes begin to glow with yellow light. He lifts slightly into the air and begins floating toward us like a spirit. The sight puts my heart somewhere near my stomach, and I grip Hope even tighter as I run.
“You won’t want me!” Hope cries, holding onto me. “Just let me go! You won’t want me after what I’ve done!”
I ignore all that nonsense because I’m too busy dodging curses that Walter is hurling at us. He doesn’t seem too happy about having yet another spell in this swamp shut down by interfering types. The curses must be strong because I can actually see them whizzing through the air like little yellow lights. One seems to hit Dylan as the four of us keep running on, and he winces and grabs his arm, but he quickly shakes it off.
“Just grazed me,” Dylan says, as he runs past me.
Hope is crying and my heart goes out to her. At least, she’s stopped struggling in my arms. We need a strategy here. Somehow, I hadn’t actually counted on a battle right here in the woods by our house.
“You and Max take Hope!” Freddie shouts at me. “We’ll take the wizard!”
You don’t have to tell me twice. Max and I start running as fast as we possibly can toward home, though I can’t help but worry about leaving Freddie and Dylan to deal with the pissed off big bad wizard with the yellow eyes hovering in the air behind us.
I can hear the buzz of spells flying back and forth behind us as we make it further away. When I glance back, I see that the tables have turned, and Freddie and Dylan are chasing Walter instead of the other way around. I grin to myself despite everything, and Max and I have a clear shot all the way back to our place.
Once the house is in sight, I stop running.
“Let me down,” Hope says shakily. “I’m not even hurt.”
Begrudgingly, I help her down to the ground and my heart clenches when I think she’s going to bolt, but instead, she just walks ahead of us. She rolls her shoulders and sniffs, straightening the scarf around her face. I didn’t get to see whatever it is she’s hiding. I was too distracted by the chase. But she doesn’t seem any more inclined to show us than she was before.
We walk quietly through the woods. Max and I glance at each other as we follow Hope who keeps whimpering and sniffing.
“It wasn’t any of your business, you know,” Hope finally says.
I wince at that. She’s really not wrong. “We just wanted to protect you.”
“Some might call it stalking,” she snaps. We don’t have an answer to that. But she goes with us to the house anyway, and only a minute later, Dylan and Freddie come running out of the woods to join us.
“We got rid of him,” Freddie sighs, bending over and bracing on his knees to catch his breath. “For now, I mean. We knocked him out.”
“He was going to help me,” Hope says, turning away and covering her face with her hands. “I’m not proud of what I was going to do. I’m not proud at all, but it was the only way…” She starts crying again, and I can’t help myself. I run to her and pull her into my arms.
“Sweetheart,” I whisper. “Hey, come into the house, alright? Please? Can we talk about this?”
“Okay,” she says softly. She lets me put my arm around her, which I take as a good sign, and we all head into the house.
It’s hard not to dote on Hope, who just keeps hiding her face, pulling her hat down low and bringing her scarf up while ducking her head. We leave her be without asking any hard questions just yet, and sit her down in the kitchen. I figure if anything, the girl could use a strong drink and forget the sweet tea. I pour Hope a couple of fingers of gin and slide it to her across the table before I pour myself some and we all sit down.
Hope takes a deep breath and says, “I tried a spell...it didn’t work. I don’t know why, but hell, that’s why I want to go back to magic school in the first place.”
“The spell for general beautification?” Dylan says.
“Yeah...that’s it.” She sighs. “I’m sorry I ripped a page out of that book too.”
“That’s okay,” I say, with a snort. “We don’t use beauty spells.”
“Why would you!” she says. “You’re all insanely hot!” We all kind of snicker and blush at that, but Hope doesn’t seem particularly amused. “Anyway, it—I don’t know how it happened, but whatever it was, the spell gave me these horrible scars.” She sinks her head in her hands and I almost think she’s going to cry again but instead, she grabs the glass of gin and takes a long swallow. “Oh. That’s better. And very necessary.”
“That’s what we thought happened,” I say softly. “So you tracked down this Walter guy to get him to fix it for you?”
“I tried to blackmail him,” Hope says. She bursts out laughing, and the sound makes me smile after so much crying. “Oh my God, guys. I tried to blackmail somebody!” She throws up her hands. I wish I could see her face, but I don’t want to spook her trying to get her to show us what’s so awful. Some scars really don’t seem that bad to me, and even if they were, her physical beauty isn’t even why we love her. “I’m a freaking barista, and I tried to blackmail a dark wizard!” The way she says it makes the rest of us laugh, and it does kind of lighten the mood. We all glance at each other, unable to stop
chuckling at the absurdity of the situation. Hope takes another sip of gin, shaking her head.
“This is all so embarrassing,” he mumbles. “I was just too horrified to let you see me, and I had to call out sick to work because I had no way to explain how I suddenly have scars to people who don’t even know about magic. I didn’t know what to do. So, yeah...I went to Walter. He said he’d help me if I...helped him. He wanted me to...do things for him. For his ritual to extend his life.”
“What kind of things?” I say, frowning.
“You know…” Hope titters and I feel hot with rage at Walter for even entertaining the idea of making Hope do anything like that when she didn’t want to. “Things,” Hope says. “It was supposed to be part of his spell. Then, he was going to help undo my spell. Wouldn’t even cost me anything. Well, it wouldn’t cost me any money anyway.”
“Would you please just show us,” Dylan blurts out. “I think you’re making too much of this.”
“I showed my ex,” Hope says. “He practically teleported, he ran so fast. I think there was a plume of smoke behind him.”
“Then he’s a jerk,” Max says.
Hope snorts at that and shakes her head. I take her glass and pour in a little more gin before sliding it back over. “Take another drink and then show us, Hope.”
Hope takes a deep breath, throws back a large swallow of gin, and shakes her head with her eyes shut. “Okay,” she says, throatily. She takes off her hat and sets it on the table and then takes off her sunglasses and begins unwinding her scarf. At first, I don’t even notice anything different. Then, I begin to see the thick, mottled lines of jagged scars along her forehead, beneath her eyes and zig-zagging down her cheeks as she takes off her scarf.
Her scarf is now completely off, and she folds it up and lays it on the table with her hat and sunglasses. She looks so pained, like we’re all going to be completely horrified and call her a monster, but I find myself weakly laughing and rubbing my eyes.
