Twisted Fate

by Jessi Elliott

  At the last minute, Tristan grabs my wrist and pulls me back onto the bed.

  I suck in a sharp breath and wince. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Oh, long enough,” he murmurs, a slight curve shaping his lips.

  I laugh sheepishly. “Great.” As I look around the room, the events from the past twenty-four hours come back in a painful rush. I rake my fingers through the mess of curls on my head and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “I should get ready and head to the hospital with my parents.”

  “Okay.”

  Tristan Westbrook is crawling out of my bed—where he slept beside me last night. I’ve imagined this moment, and it didn’t include having to go to a hospital let alone downstairs to see my parents.

  He kisses my cheek on his way out of the room.

  I use this opportunity to change into a pair of dark jeans and a loose T-shirt. I’m sitting at the end of my bed to pull on some socks when Tristan knocks on my door. I tell him to come in and force a small smile when he closes the door behind him.

  “You should head back to the city,” I say, standing and grabbing my phone from the table beside my bed. “I’m sure you want to check in at the office and see how the rest of last night went.”

  “I don’t need to check in. I’m fine right here.”

  “Tristan,” I say, looking at him. “I don’t know how long I’m going to stay here. I’m not going to ask you to hang around for me. I haven’t forgotten everything you have to deal with right now. You were here for me last night. Now you need to be there for your people.”

  He sighs. “You’ll call me if you need anything?”

  I nod. “Go home. Deal with the light fae. No one else needs to die. Work with them and figure out a way to coexist.”

  “All right,” he concedes.

  I walk toward him. “Thank you,” I whisper, “for everything you’ve done for me.”

  He leans in and kisses my forehead. “If anything happens, you call me.”

  “I will,” I promise.

  We walk downstairs together, and he says goodbye to my parents. They stay in the kitchen while I walk Tristan to the door.

  He smiles and pulls me into his arms. “I’ll see you soon,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. His fingers splay across my cheek, and he rests his forehead against mine. “Hang in there, sweetheart.”

  The rush of tears that gathers in my eyes doesn’t surprise me at this point. “I’m trying,” I force out in a hoarse voice.

  His lips press against mine in a whisper of a kiss. It’s slow and tender and unlike anything I’d expect from Tristan. He smiles at me once more before he walks outside and heads for his car. My cheeks are warm when I close the door, flushed from the mixture of emotions that accompany kissing Tristan.

  Mom and Dad are drinking coffee at the kitchen table when I walk into the room.

  “Morning,” I say as I pour myself a cup.

  “Morning, honey,” Mom says. “Tristan didn’t want to stay for breakfast?”

  I shake my head. “He had to get back to the office.”

  “He seems like a decent man,” Dad says.

  I peer at him over my mug. “Yeah, I guess.” Where is he planning on taking this conversation?

  “He also appears to care about you a great deal.”

  I shrug. “He’s . . . it’s complicated.”

  Mom chuckles, but it sounds nowhere near her normal, carefree laugh. “All the best things are, Aurora.”

  I’m not sure that’s true, but I keep that to myself. “We should go over to the hospital,” I say.

  “Visiting hours don’t start for almost an hour,” Dad says.

  “I want to be there when they do. Adam is probably scared to be alone in that place. We need to be there for him.” Being stuck at school while he’s been fighting through treatments has been difficult. Now that I’m here, I want to be with him as much as I can. If I can bring him any amount of comfort, I’ll do whatever it takes.

  Mom and Dad exchange glances and both nod.

  “All right,” Mom says. “Let me get dressed, and we’ll head over.”

  My hands are shaking by the time we pull into the visitor parking lot at the hospital. I don’t know how I’m going to face Adam if he’s awake. The three of us ride to the pediatric level in silence. Mom’s hands are clasped in front of her, while Dad has one arm around her and the other shoved in his pocket. They look as out of place here as I do.

  I let the two of them lead the way to Adam’s room. I know where it is from stopping by last night, but I can’t be the first one to walk in, so I slowly trail behind them.

  Dr. Collins is sitting in the chair beside his bed. She looks up when the three of us walk in, and stands, offering a smile. Mom, Dad, and I all stand in the doorway. I think we’re all a little hesitant to approach Adam, which makes my chest ache.

  “Good morning,” she says in a pleasant voice, turning her attention to me. “Would you mind sitting with Adam so I can talk to your parents?”

  I glance over at Mom and Dad, catching their subtle nods. “Sure,” I say. After a short moment of hesitation, I walk over and sit where the doctor was when we came in.

  “Hey, Roar,” Adam says, waving at my parents as they leave the room with Dr. Collins.

  When I look at him, my throat burns. He doesn’t look all that sick right now. His eyes are still the same bright blue they’ve always been, and his hair still falls in messy brown curls around his face. His cheeks even have some color they didn’t last night. “Hey, buddy. How are you doing?”

  He sighs. “Every time I try to sleep, some nurse or doctor comes in.” His eyes flick around the room before he shrugs. “At least I’m not in any more pain.”

  “You were in pain?” I ask. “When?”

  He stretches his legs out, sighing. “Yesterday and last night when I woke up.”

  “The doctors gave you medication to take it away?”

  He scratches his head. “I don’t think he was a doctor.”

  I frown. “What are you talking about?”

  “He was wearing a suit. He didn’t look like a doctor, and he didn’t give me any medicine.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

  “He sat with me for a couple of hours early in the morning before the nurse came to check on me. At least, I think it was the morning. I was pretty out of it. I remember there was so much pain, and then there wasn’t. It was like he absorbed it.”

  My breath catches, and before he can say more, Mom, Dad, and Dr. Collins walk in. There are fresh tears on Mom’s face, but she forces a smile.

  Dr. Collins leaves the room after saying goodbye to Adam, promising she’ll get someone to send a snack later on if he’s feeling up to it.

  I glance between where Adam lies, attached to machines, and where my parents stand at the end of his bed. No one has said what the doctor and my parents talked about, but if my Mom’s reaction walking back into the room is any indication, things aren’t looking good.

  “Roar, please don’t look so scared,” Adam says in a small voice.

  I turn to him and force a smile despite the wetness gathering in my eyes. “Sorry, buddy.” The last thing I want is for Adam to worry about me; I’m the one who needs to worry about him.

  He smiles. “It’s going to be okay. If I can fight cancer, I’ll fight this too.”

  I close my eyes against the tears. His optimism is painful, but I can’t bring myself to say anything that might diminish it. He deserves it. Hell, he deserves so much more than this shitty hand he’s been dealt. “Okay,” I say in a hoarse voice. “Okay.”

  Mom, Dad, and I head home for dinner after promising Adam we’d come back in the morning. I don’t think my parents can handle sitting in a room with their sick son when there’s nothing they can do for him. I want badly to stay with him, but it turns out, I’m no stronger than they are. If I continue to sit in that hospital room, I’m going to burst into tears in front of Adam, a
nd that won’t help.

  Mom and Dad both seem pretty out of it after we get to the house—understandably so—which is why I cook dinner. Knowing how much they love it, I make garlic bread and penne in a rosé sauce. We sit around the table, but we’re all picking at our plates.

  Dad breaks the silence, saying, “Your mom and I understand that you’ll need to get back to school soon—”

  “I’m not going anywhere until he’s better,” I cut in, trying to keep my tone gentle. My parents are just as concerned about Adam as I am. I don’t want to make it harder on them.

  “Aurora, we don’t want your education to suffer because of this, and neither does Adam. You’ve accomplished so much, honey, and you’re almost there.”

  The food in my mouth suddenly tastes sour. I have to force myself to swallow it. “Education isn’t always the most important thing. Especially when Adam is sick. I’ve made my decision.” The two biggest factors that typically trigger my anxiety are attacking simultaneously, forcing me to choose between my sick brother and my education. My degree has been my life for the past three years, but my family takes priority over it. I’ll figure it out.

  Mom sighs. “Okay.”

  After dinner, Dad offers to clean the kitchen, so I retreat upstairs and stand in the shower far longer than necessary. I’m drying myself off when I notice my phone going off on my bed. I rush over and answer it before it goes to voicemail.

  “Hey.”

  “When the hell were you going to tell me he got worse?” Allison asks. “I would’ve gone with you. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. Everything happened so fast. I found out last night while I was at the gala.” I explain how I got home as I pull a comb through my hair.

  “Yeah, Tristan told me all of that. Do you want me to come there? I can be at your place in a few hours.”

  “No, it’s okay. I appreciate you wanting to be here for me, but I’m going to stick around for a while.”

  “Okay. Do you need me to talk to your professors? I can let them know what’s going on if you want.”

  The idea of missing lectures makes my stomach queasy, but I say, “would you mind? That’d save me from emailing them. I’m sure they’ll understand. I have all of my placement hours done plus extra, so that won’t be a problem.”

  “Of course. Consider it done.”

  “Thank you, and—oh, shit! With everything . . . I forgot to call Tristan. Have there been any more attacks on the dark fae?”

  “Not that I know of. I think Tristan got off his high horse and planned a meeting with Jules.”

  “That’s good. Let me know if anything happens, will you?”

  “Sure,” she murmurs, “and let me know what happens on your end, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “You know I love you, Aurora. I’m here for whatever you need. Always.”

  “I know, and I love you. Thank you.”

  I end the call and let out a long breath. I sit on the end of my bed and fidget with my phone. Not knowing how the following days are going to go is killing me. My skin itches, and my nerves are jumpy. My mind is racing with so many what-if scenarios, I can’t think straight.

  I crawl under my sheets and try to relax. Tristan’s absence is almost tangible. As I gaze at the empty spot beside me, my chest aches. That’s new. I roll around to face the other way so I’m not staring at the blank space and close my eyes.

  I drift off, grateful for the darkness pulling me under and away from reality. At least when I’m asleep, I can pretend everything is fine.

  A scene materializes around me, and it takes a minute for me to realize I’m dreaming. I blink a few times, focusing on the fireplace in front of me. I’m in Tristan’s bedroom.

  I stand, turning to glance around the room. “You can’t invade my dream and leave me here alone,” I call out.

  Tristan enters the room out of nowhere. “I wanted to give you a safe space,” he says, approaching me at a comfortable pace. “I didn’t intend to make you spend time with me. I know you told me not to do this, but I needed to make sure you were okay.”

  “It’s okay.” I glance at him. “I wish you were here,” I blurt.

  “I’m right here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing the hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear.

  “You know what I mean,” I say. “How are things there?”

  He shakes his head. “That’s not why I brought you here. We don’t need to talk about that.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk about what I’m dealing with.”

  “Then we won’t,” he says. “We can talk about whatever you want, or we don’t have to talk at all.”

  “So, you brought me here to—?”

  “To hopefully offer you some comfort. I spoke to Allison after she talked to you. I know what you’re dealing with, and I want nothing more than to be there with you, so this is what I’m doing.”

  I reach out and take his hand in mine. “Thank you. You continue to surprise me.”

  He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Is that a good thing?” he asks.

  “Some days it really is,” I say.

  We sit on the loveseat in front of the fireplace with my back pressed against his front and his arms wrapped around my waist.

  “Adam told me,” I whisper.

  “Hmm?” He leans down, tracing his lips along my jaw.

  “I know you went back to the hospital after we left,” I say.

  “Why do you think that?” he asks, tracing slow circles on the back of my hand.

  “Because I remember what it felt like when you healed me. The pain was there, and then it wasn’t. That’s what Adam told me, and he said the man who made him feel better was wearing a suit. You didn’t want to go back to the hospital in my dad’s sweatpants?”

  “Ahh,” he murmurs, refusing to confirm my suspicion.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you went back?” I push.

  “You didn’t need to know, Rory.”

  “Right. God forbid I think positively of you.”

  He chuckles. “I didn’t do it for you,” he says in a soft tone.

  I smile. “No, of course not.” I tip my head back and whisper, “Thank you.”

  He kisses the spot right below my ear. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

  I press my lips together, debating whether I should go through with what I’m about to say. “I saw your dream,” I blurt. “I mean, I was in it, like you’re in mine now. Except you didn’t know I was there.”

  He shifts, peering down at me with a shocked expression. “You what?”

  Swallowing, I say, “I don’t know how it happened. It was that first night you did it. You left my dream, and then when I fell asleep later on, I somehow entered yours.”

  He frowns. “That’s unusual.”

  “Random fae magic?” I offer.

  He chuckles, but it holds no amusement this time. “Random fae magic sounds about right.”

  “It only happened that one time.” I don’t want him to think I’ve been snooping through his dreams, especially since he’s stayed out of mine.

  He shakes his head. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmurs, and covers my hand with his.

  I shake my head, wanting him to know he has no reason to apologize. I run my finger along the collar of his shirt. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  We lie together in silence for a while after that. I didn’t know it was possible to fall asleep during a dream, but I find my eyes drifting the longer I stare at the flickering flames in the fireplace, basking in the warmth it’s radiating.

  “You know,” I mumble, sleep tugging at me. “I think I’m falling for you.”

  Tristan exhales, his breath stirring the hair at my temple. He brushes his lips against the skin beside my eyebrow, and I close my eyes.

  Before he can say anything, the scene fades away, and I’m staring at my mom’s frantic face as she shakes me awake.

  “Get
up, honey,” she says. “We have to go to the hospital.”

  The silence is deafening. From the time we leave the house to the moment we step off the elevator on the pediatric floor, none of us says a word. I don’t need fae abilities to feel the terror we’re all experiencing.

  We round the corner, and the moment I see the crowd of hospital staff surrounding Adam’s door, I freeze. My heart stops. Everything. Just. Stops.

  We all move at once, sprinting toward his room, pushing through the nurses and doctors. Mom’s scream tears through the room, and once I manage to squeeze past a nurse, my hand flies to my mouth, and my legs wobble, no longer wanting to fight to hold me upright. I stumble back against the wall and stay there, unable to take my eyes off the mop of curls on Adam’s head.

  Dad grabs Mom, crying as he tries to pull her away from the bed. No. Please, no. This can’t be happening. He was getting better. This isn’t—

  A young doctor steps forward and faces my parents. “We tried to revive him for as long as we could, but his heart wouldn’t restart. His body wasn’t strong enough to fight off the pneumonia. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  My mom chokes on a sob, and Dad catches her before she collapses. “How did this happen? Where is Dr. Collins?” he demands.

  “She was called away for an emergency out of town. We’ve notified her. Take as much time as you need, there’s no rush. Please let us know if you need anything.”

  I shake my head, a faint ringing in my ears. “This isn’t happening.” My hand raises slowly and covers my mouth, my fingers shaking against my skin. Dr. Collins leaves town the night my brother loses his battle. Oh my god. Is Adam’s doctor light fae—the leader? There was always something I didn’t trust about her. What if . . . No. The light fae would have no reason to go after my family. Would they? I can’t think about this right now.