by Jen Stevens
“I’m not even sure how we got out of that. I was next to dead.” Rhyse shook his head.
Enzo and Lux silently nodded their agreements.
“Something showed up at my altar that night and fed me power,” I admitted, and three pairs of eyes shot over at me in irritated bewilderment. I avoided their glares and took a seat on the other half of Rhyse’s log.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us this before?”
My shoulders lifted in a pathetic, noncommittal shrug. The truth was, I had no idea why I didn’t tell them right away. We’d barely had a chance to talk much since that night, but I could have found a way.
I wasn’t going to expose Storie as the entity and put a bigger target on her back, though. Not until I could figure out the truth about what has been happening between us.
“Never really had a chance. But it was the only reason I was able to get you guys out of there.”
“So, now we’ve got secret entities feeding us power while someone else tries to steal our magic away?” Lux wondered aloud. He followed Enzo’s lead and began pacing, his hand scratching at his overgrown beard.
“We’re fucked,” Rhyse repeated.
This time, no one disagreed.
“We need to make a plan. Starting with playing nice with our fathers.” Lux sent a look at Enzo, who rolled his eyes. “We don’t know their true agenda and we can't trust a word they say. We just need to lay low while we gather any information we can about what happened. If they find out that we're sniffing them out, they'll only act faster.”
“So, we're just supposed to roll over while those assholes take everything out from under us?” Rhyse scoffed. “It's like you said, they're opportunists. They're not smart enough to pull off something like this alone.”
“As of right now, now one is going to take our side against theirs. They're playing politics with the coven and the town, and we've got bigger things to worry about.”
“Yeah, like what is feeding Remy power while the rest of us wither away?” Enzo's feet finally stopped moving in front of me. His tone was harsh; accusatory.
“I think there's more to this than we're being told.”
Storie's face popped back into my mind. I was nearly positive she was my Counter, yet I had no urge to kill her. In fact, I wanted to do the opposite. I'd wanted to grab her up from the sand and carry her back to my bedroom to see how far we could push ourselves past the pain of being near each other and discover what was on the other side of it.
“That's why we need to be smart and not turn on each other,” Lux pushed.
“Then he shouldn't be keeping things from us.” Rhyse flexed his enormous bicep and pointed a finger at me.
“I'm not keeping anything. I just told you what happened and if it weren't for me, you'd be dead.”
“Let's just lay low and keep looking for our Counters. Any information we can find on them will lead us to ending this.” Lux looked to the three of us for agreement.
“How do we know that everything we've been told about our Counters isn't a lie?” I voiced the thoughts that have been swimming around my brain since Storie drove into town, regretting it immediately when they each looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
“Why would you say that? If there's one thing we know as Quarters, it's that our Counters are our biggest threat.” Rhyse held his palm up and a small orange flame burned bright against his skin. After a few seconds, the flame flickered out and his eyes slid over to mine to prove his point. “Ours are the first that haven't been found, and we're the first to have our magic wane.”
“Yeah, but who told us that? Have any of you ever read the words for yourselves in any of our studies? Maybe this is all related.”
Lux shook his head. “That's true. I've only ever heard about it from our fathers and grandfathers, and they've proven that they can't be trusted. This could be their failed attempt at weakening us.”
“Are you seriously entertaining this?” Enzo interjected. He regarded Lux the same way they had all just done to me. Silence lingered between us, and he remained still in front of me while the gears in his brain worked overtime until he shook the thought from his head. “It's not just Quarter knowledge that Counters are our one true weakness. The entire coven knows. That seems like too elaborate of a lie for those assholes to come up with.”
“Maybe, but it's not completely impossible.” Lux's fingers worked through his beard again.
If I were truly loyal to them, I would have spilled everything about Storie right then and there. I would have explained how I felt since we first made eye contact and how I've been working behind their backs to get closer to her and evaluate the threat she posed.
It started off as a noble cause. I wanted to make sure she couldn't hurt any of us, and they hadn't taken me seriously the first time I brought her up. But it morphed into something completely different when she projected into my space and saved us all from being turned to dust. When I felt her skin against mine and it burned hotter than any fire Rhyse could conjure up, somehow leaving me wanting more.
If I told them about her now, they'd hunt and torture her. Just as they've been trained to do with a Counter. But I couldn't allow that. Not yet. So, like a spineless coward, I remained silent and let them think I was just as clueless as they were.
Our meeting ended with us agreeing to stay under the radar for now, just as Lux suggested. We'd be our coven’s punching bags as they got over Mabon being cancelled and allow our fathers to believe we were dutifully obeying them and unaware of their agenda. But each of us was tasked with finding out more.
More about the Book of Shadows.
More about our history as Quarters.
More about The Movement's agenda.
And more about our Counters.
We'd blindly believed the words of our fathers and grandfathers, never once questioning their sources or reasoning. Never once wondering why we weren't shown the history books or given concrete proof to study. We never had a reason to, until now. And none of it was readily available to us.
Chapter 18
Remy
Rowan Wildes was not known for his patient demeanor or soft tone. He was one of the most closed-off, intimidating men I'd ever known, aside from my grandfather. No one ever crossed him, and most were afraid to even speak to him unless completely necessary.
I had been blessed by the gods to have this stony man as my father. He taught me everything I knew about being a Quarter, fighting technique, and serving my coven, and left the rest of my upbringing to my mother. If we weren't discussing Quarter business, we likely weren't speaking at all.
Since stepping into my role as a Quarter and claiming the gift that was once his, our relationship was more strained than ever before. He hardly acknowledged me when we passed in the halls of our home, and he made a point to avoid me in public. In fact, his sudden interest in my life had only just peaked when the Movement grew stronger, and he recognized the opportunity to regain his magic and relive his glory days—all while robbing me of mine.
Which was why I had such a hard time following his lead as his aging body slowly dodged and ambled away from my strikes. We were working on fighting technique and reaction time, though he appeared to be the one receiving the lesson while I was practicing a simple warm-up. I'm not even sure why this was a part of our “training refresher,” as he referred to it.
If he were truly concerned with my lack of magic, we wouldn't be standing in our backyard pretending that he was teaching me anything I didn't already know. Instead, he would be scouring our history books to find the missing piece or coming up with ways to stop Rayner from poisoning the minds of our coven and turning them against us.
I already knew the missing piece, though. She haunted my brain every chance she could get.
The power I felt when I was around her was the most addictive thing I've ever tasted, and I planned to use her for every ounce of it that I could squeeze from her curvy little body. I wished I could seek her out the wa
y she had done to me. Appear in her space and watch her every move without her knowledge, taking notes on every strength and weakness she possessed.
But I was stuck here, playing the game like I agreed to do.
“Where is your head? You should have stopped that,” my father chastised through labored breaths.
I let him believe he was leading this thing and allowed a strike to pass through. His hand wrapped around my wrist, and he pulled me into a choke hold.
Now that I knew how weak and defenseless my Counter was, all the physical training felt quite useless. Before, she had been some faceless enemy, highly trained and ready to defend her life just as I had been. Instead, she was a sad little girl with next to zero knowledge of her role in the world and beautiful eyes that perfectly matched the lavender fields out on the Forbes property.
It was Lux's voice in my mind that had me swallowing down the snarky responses that were burning in my throat. Even if Storie was my Counter and the missing piece to regaining my gift, she could only serve in that role to me. The others still hadn't found their Counters, and their lives were in danger because of it. I couldn't risk them losing everything simply because I no longer had to worry about it. They were the closest thing I had to a family, including the sweaty man standing before me.
So, I took the low blows and stroked my father's ego long enough to pacify him until his aging body could no longer handle it.
Once we finished up, he took one last jab at me, then swaggered over to one of the patio chairs and fell into it, swiping sweat away from his forehead with his arm.
“Mayor Douglas had canceled the rest of the scheduled Mabon celebrations.” His gravelly voice delivered the news without emotion, his eyes focused on the whiskey he was swirling around in his glass.
“Oh, yeah?”
His brows furrowed together. He stilled and the black pits that I’d inherited from him slowly drifted up to pin me. “This is your fault, Remington. You should show a little more remorse.”
A flame of fury burned through my chest, encouraging me to counter with some sort of defense. To point out that we wouldn’t be in this situation if he and the others hadn’t failed at finding our Counters. But the words fell flat on my tongue when I once again reminded myself of the end game and what was at stake.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled in a non-committal tone. That only seemed to piss him off even more.
“We can’t help you fix this if you’re unwilling to show some respect to the coven who is relying on you,” he chastised, finishing off the amber liquid. “You’re lucky we’re so willing to step in and help you boys. I can’t say my father would have done the same for me.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond. He knew he’d made his point and effectively pissed me off in the process. He just stood from his chair and swaggered off without looking back. I hadn't seen such confidence in him since I was too young to understand how cruel of a man he was. How it stemmed from igniting fear in others instead of the respect I had once thought.
He assumed he was going to end up on top—all our fathers did. While it killed a piece of me to allow them to make a mockery of us, it only proved that we were doing exactly what we set out to do. For now, they were too blinded by their own egos to even see us coming.
I walked to the opposite end of the house, up the two flights of stairs to my room and straight out to the patio.
This wasn't the bedroom I grew up in. That one had long since been converted into a craft room for my mother's hobbies. This was the room I took over when I stepped into my Quarter role and claimed my gifts. It was tradition for the current Quarter to move closer to their altar. I was just happy to be farther from my father.
If I ever decided to have a family, my parents would move into the guest house or one of the rooms on this side of the main house and I would take over their room. It seemed like an awkward exchange that I didn't see myself doing anytime soon.
So, for now, I settled here. My favorite part was the balcony I was currently standing on that overlooked the ocean. It was the only place I felt like I could catch my breath anymore.
That unmistakable sensation moved through me in waves. It was no longer a painful ache, just a buzzing that reached my core, letting me know that my counterpart was near.
She had to be here. Somewhere around my home. What would possess her to stumble into the most dangerous place this town had to offer her?
When I was just about to turn my back to the beach and go searching for her inside, I spotted the housekeeper's daughter, Julia, rounding the corner of a large boulder that sat on the edge of the sand and the woods with my weakness in tow. The rest of her friends trailed behind, their arms full of towels, coolers and a small keg.
Her family worked for mine for longer than anyone could remember. We always made sure to pay them a generous wage while providing more than suitable living arrangements, and they made sure to protect our privacy from the rest of the town. Both sides trusted each other to take care of the other, and over the years, they’d become closer to family than anything else.
Julia grated on my nerves, though. She was cocky and entitled and flat-out annoying. Her friends weren't any better. We were the same age, but they've always acted much younger. Never held responsible for anything in their lives. Never forced to work toward a single thing outside of who was paying for the next keg that night.
Julia was training to take over for her mom, and the rest of them worked in the various retail shops downtown, never taking advantage of the freedom they had to leave Beacon Grove and find a life in the outside world. They were Watchtower's most recent recruits, solidifying their futures here.
Storie looked out of place with the motley crew. In fact, she seemed downright miserable. I wondered how they managed to pry her away from the Granger girl and her obsessive digging into her family's business long enough to drag her down here.
It was none of my business. Being around her only confused and infuriated me, especially after she ran off the last time we were together, leaving me with a horde of unfamiliar emotions I had no idea how to deal with and the worst case of blue balls.
I could hear them laughing and joking once they settled into a spot, uncaring of how far their voices carried, or that technically, they weren't allowed to be out here. Julia knew the rules and never bothered with following them, but my father didn't care, so no one else did either.
It felt wrong to watch them any longer, though I could have kept my eyes on Storie for hours, studying her every move. Disgusted with myself, I turned and walked back into my room before a loud thud followed by a grunt sounded from below.
“What the hell did you do, Beau?” Julia hissed, her shrill voice floating straight through my balcony doors. I stepped back into the ocean air and saw Storie standing before me, translucent once again.
She wasn't looking at me. Her back was turned my way as she watched the beach in horror. The group of people she'd traveled with circled her physical body with their mouths open in panic.
“What happened?” I asked, startling her. The group was talking below us in hushed whispers, arguing about what to do.
“I-I don't know. They forced me out here with them. They were acting really weird, but I figured it was harmless. Then, that big one attacked me from behind, and now I'm here.” Her arm lifted over the balcony to point at the hulking man that was now bending over to grab her by the armpits and drag her to the side of the beach.
I can't replay a single thought that passed through my mind in the span of time it took for me to make it from my room on the third floor, all the way down to the beach. It was as if I blinked and was there, standing before the guilty group of six individuals who looked terrified to see me.
Storie's body wasn't anywhere to be seen, so there was obviously some amount of time that slipped away from me. But not much. Hopefully, not enough for them to do any damage.
“Where is she?” I heard my voice demand from somewhere far away. Perhaps my own s
pirit was still standing on the balcony with hers.
“Who?” Beau tried to ask, failing at acting casual. His voice shook and sweat was pouring down from his prematurely balding head in thick drops.
The others were stunned sober, their buzzes and good moods completely wiped away. They stood still behind Beau, as if his bulky body could protect them from any harm. And if they didn't tell me where Storie's body was, there would be harm.
My eyes shifted behind Beau and found Julia's. I lifted my brow at her in a challenge, offering one last chance for her to come clean. She knew how dangerous the Wildes men were when they were tested. She'd witnessed some of my father's wrath firsthand but was always sworn to secrecy about the horrors that happened behind closed doors. I wouldn't doubt if she told her friends all about it, though. That would explain their terror.
A few beats passed and I was officially prepared to reach into each of their chests with my bare hands and rip their hearts out. When I stepped forward toward them, Julia's hand popped out from behind Beau's enormous arm and pointed to the west.
To the water.
I can't explain why the idea that something was wrong with Storie had affected me so much. Sure, she was likely my Counter, but that only meant I should have killed her myself. Before any of those braindead nonachievers ever had the chance. But it wasn't anger over the missed opportunity that had my feet propelling me through the sand.
No, there was that strange, nagging feeling deep inside my bones—embedded into the marrow—that pulled me into the opposite direction. It told me that killing her would be a mistake and fed this angry side of me that would rip them limb from limb if I found out they had harmed her beyond return.
“She's going to be okay. We didn't mean to hurt her. We were just having fun. It was an accident…” Julia was mumbling to my back. Her voice faded away into the sound of the waves as the dark sand kicked up behind me, tickling my legs.
They had dragged her body into the thick beach grass and propped her head onto one of their towels. It was rolled into a ball and soaked in blood that had also seeped into the golden locks fanned out around her face. Her pale skin was nearly translucent, leaving little difference between the version of her lying before me and the ghost-girl who met me on my balcony minutes before.
