Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I followed Faith outside, where her Jeep was parked in front of Black Bounty. The street was eerily empty at this time of night, the only sound the faint hum of the streetlights casting a dim glow on the dark pavement. The air was cool, carrying a whisper of the mysteries that cloaked our lives.

Faith moved with purpose, her silhouette a comforting presence in the stillness. We climbed into the Jeep, the engine's rumble breaking the silence as she pulled away from the curb. The familiar streets of our town slipped by. The neon signs were dimmed, and the storefronts darkened, each one a marker on the path we knew so well.

As we drove past the heart of the town, the landscape shifted from commercial to residential, the suburban part of town coming into view. Houses lined the streets, each one a pocket of normalcy in our otherwise chaotic world. Faith's grip on the steering wheel was steady. Her eyes focused on the road ahead, but I could feel the unspoken questions between us. She was curious as to how I would handle the situation with Spencer, but then, so was I.

She pulled into my driveway, the Jeep coming to a gentle stop. For a moment, we sat there in the quiet, the engine ticking as it cooled. The house loomed before us, a sanctuary that seemed both welcoming and daunting. "You got this," she said quietly.

I turned to Faith, her profile softened by the glow of the streetlights. "Thanks for the ride," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Faith nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a look that conveyed understanding and support. "Anytime," she replied, her voice steady and reassuring.

I opened the door and stepped out, the gravel crunching under my boots. Faith waited until I was at the front door before she backed out of the driveway, the Jeep's headlights cutting through the darkness as she drove away. I watched her go, taking a deep breath before turning the key in the lock.

The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind. I stepped inside, closing the door softly behind me, and let the familiar surroundings ground me.

There was no sound, but the living room light was on and as I approached the couch, I found Spencer resting on it. He was wearing a dress shirt and pants, but his laptop was on the coffee table.

I stood staring at Spencer as he slept on the couch. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of deep, untroubled sleep; his face relaxed in a way that felt achingly familiar. An open book lay on the coffee table beside his laptop, pages fluttering slightly in the draft from the window. It was a scene straight out of the past, a snapshot of how things used to be when he lived here.

The sight tugged at something deep inside me, a mix of nostalgia and unease. Spencer was becoming more comfortable in my home since his death, slipping back into old habits as if nothing had changed. And that wasn't necessarily a good sign.

I took a step closer, my eyes tracing the contours of his face, the shadows under his eyes that hinted at the strain he tried to hide. There was a serenity in his sleep, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had defined our lives. But it was a fragile peace, one built on a foundation of unresolved truths and unspoken words.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the streetlights outside casting long shadows across the walls. It felt like a different world, one suspended between the past and the present, where the boundaries of life and death blurred into something indefinable.

Spencer shifted slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and I felt a pang of guilt. I had let him believe everything could go back to the way it was, that we could find our way back to a semblance of normalcy. But the reality was far more complicated, and the weight of that truth pressed down on me.

I needed to talk to him, to lay everything bare and face the consequences of my actions. But as I watched him sleep, so peaceful and unaware, I couldn't bring myself to shatter that moment of calm.

I allowed myself a moment of quiet contemplation, a chance to gather my thoughts and steel my resolve. Spencer deserved the truth, and I owed it to him to confront the reality of our situation. I bent down and touched his shoulder. "Spencer."

His eyes snapped open, and he smiled as soon as he saw me. "Hey, honey."

My lips thinned, and I took a seat on the chair opposite the couch.

"Hey," I said with a waver in my voice.

Spencer's handsome face turned from one of joy to concern. "Tegan, is everything alright.? Is Shannon, okay?" His concern for my friends only made what I was about to tell him worse.

I placed an errant strand of hair behind my ear. "She is good. We stopped Miletus and were able to retrieve the crystal that held her soul and return it to her body. She is recuperating with the hunters now."

Spencer beamed and the pride in his face made my stomach cramp. "That's amazing news. Why do you seem so down?"

"There is something that I didn't tell you."

Spencer's body froze. He looked like a perfect statue before his eyes flickered with red. "Are you seeing someone?"

I blinked as it took me a moment to comprehend what he was saying. "What? No. How could you ask me that?"

Spencer shook his head. "Sorry. My mind jumped to the worst-case scenario."

In truth, it never occurred to me that my moving on would be the worst thing I could say to Spencer. While I would have assumed that when Spencer was alive, I no longer gave my husband the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that had to change.

"No Spencer. I would never cheat on you. Regardless of your living status. Vampires have the same rights as anyone else. But my asking for a divorce was because I didn't trust you anymore. It wasn't because I wanted to date new people."

Spencer nodded. "I know. I made a mess of things. In truth, it's harder than it looks to get your emotions under control once dead. Everything is... more. Every sensation you can think of is enhanced. I understand why new vamps lose their way."

He spoke as if he wasn't a new vampire. As if he didn't have to navigate those same treacherous waters. I hadn't been supportive of his journey. I had focused on my friends, the town, and my daughter, but not my husband.

"I'm sorry, Spencer. I have not made things any easier for you. I know that. It's hard when..."

Spencer grabbed my hand. "Do you think I don't know that? A vampire killed your mother and orchestrated the theft of your family's vault. You have no reason to trust vampires. I will give you all the time you need. All I ask for is a chance to regain your trust."

I sat quietly, Spencer's words echoing in my mind. He wanted another chance, a shot at something more between us. If I was brutally honest with myself, I had never truly considered a relationship with him unless he could return to his human form. That reality, however, was all but gone. It had slipped through our fingers like sand, and I had to come to terms with that harsh truth.

His honesty had struck a chord in me. His raw admission of how hard it was to transition and how the lure of sensation, every touch, every fleeting moment of physical connection, was almost impossible to resist. It was a humbling reminder of the complexities of our existence. Delia had tried to warn me about the struggles a new vampire faced, but I had been unwilling to heed. I hadn't wanted to see the signs, to acknowledge the difficulties that lay ahead.

Now, sitting here, I couldn't ignore it any longer. Spencer's struggle was real, his pain palpable. I had to decide if I was willing to embrace this new reality, to accept him as he was now, not as I wished him to be. It wasn't just about love or loyalty; it was about understanding the depth of his experience and the weight of his transformation.

The room felt heavy with unspoken emotions, the air thick with the weight of decisions yet to be made. Spencer's words lingered, a reminder of the life we had once imagined and the stark contrast of our present. I had to face it head-on; no more hiding behind hopes of a return to what once was.

Delia's warnings replayed in my mind, her voice tinged with the wisdom of someone who had seen too much. She had known, perhaps better than I did, the challenges we would face. And now, as I sat here, I realized how much I needed to listen, to truly hear what was being said.

I looked at Spencer, seeing him anew through the lens of his honesty. This was the man before me, raw and real, struggling with his own demons. And I had to decide if I could walk this path with him, no matter how uncertain and fraught with challenges it might be.

The decision loomed large, but one thing was clear: I owed it to both of us to confront this reality, to face the truth head-on, and to find a way forward, whatever that might look like.

"I don't know what the future holds, Spencer. I canceled the appointment with my lawyer, and I will leave things as they are for now. We can see what happens, but I have to tell you something and you won't like it."

Spencer took a forced breath. "As long as we are together, I can handle it. I will do anything you ask to gain your trust. I know you have been holding back since we made love."

I squeezed his hand. "Yes. But it isn't because we made love. It's because it wasn't my choice."

Spencer froze. "What? I would never force or coerce you into sex. How can you accuse me of..."

"It wasn't you, Spencer. I was all over you, but it was because I was drugged. Eve confirmed it, but we were unable to determine the source. I know I was drugged, but not by who or what."

Spencer stood up abruptly, and it was obvious he was mad. His eyes glowed a fierce red, an unearthly light that sent a chill down my spine. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, the tension radiating from him like an undulating force.

The room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with the intensity of his anger. I could feel the heat of his gaze burning into me, and I knew this was more than just a momentary outburst. This was the culmination of every frustration and pain he'd been bottling up.

"Who was the target? You or Kacey?" His voice was a low growl, barely restrained fury lacing every word.

I swallowed hard, the weight of his anger pressing down on me. It wasn't surprising he had the same questions I did. Both me and my daughter ate the same food and drank the same drinks. Drugging me could have been an accident.

"I don't know that yet. We are looking into it." His glowing eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the struggle within him, the battle between the man he used to be and the entity he had become. It was humbling, terrifying, and heart-wrenching all at once.

"We have to find out if Kacey is in danger," he growled.

"I'm trying," I said, my voice small in the face of his rage.

His fists tightened, knuckles whitening as he fought to control himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't suspect a problem that night. I would never have... touched you if I had known."

I stood, moving to his side. "I know that. While I did have some doubts initially, in my heart I knew you would never do that. Honestly, you wouldn't need to. It's not difficult for me to fall into bed with you. Regardless of the circumstances."

Spencer's shoulders heaved with the effort to contain his anger, his breath coming in ragged bursts. The red glow of his eyes dimmed slightly, but the tension remained, a coiled spring ready to snap.

"I'm here," I said softly, daring to reach out a hand. "We will figure this out with our friends' help."

His gaze flickered, a moment of vulnerability breaking through the fury. Slowly, his fists unclenched, and the rigid lines of his posture softened just a fraction.

"We have to make sure you and Kacey are safe," he murmured, his voice heavy with the weight of his words. "You two are all that matter to me. But I won't spend the night here again until this is resolved, and I know it's what you want."

As I stood there, staring into his glowing eyes, I knew this was a turning point. We either faced this together, or we shattered under the pressure. And as terrifying as it was, I chose to face it, to face him, and all the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"Okay. We take it slow and prioritize finding out who did this."

"Do you have many suspects? I assume you have Clark and possibly Marco on that list."

I nodded. "I do, but Nishi reminded me that a warlock or witch, could have introduced the drug into my drink from afar."

Spencer nodded. "That is true, but wouldn't you detect magic like that inside your home? The guardians have certain wards around the house."

I hadn't considered that. "If an empowered was strong enough, they could break the wards, but it would leave a trace of magic. One I could trace under the right circumstances."

"Is there an artifact that could help you?" he asked.

I had always appreciated his mind. When I was hyper focused on other things, he always grounded me and reminded me what was important. He had always done anything to help me and that hadn't changed, even though he was angry with the circumstances of our last romantic night together.

"The Temporal Echo would give me more information."

"What does it do?"

"It allows you to revisit a specific moment in time," I said.

"Can you alter the past?"

I shook my head. "It only allows you to view a specific event, but I may be able to use my magic to trace the drug while using the artifact. I would have to do more research on the artifact first and reacquire it. I have never used it."

"I don't remember you mentioning that one before."

"Its use can be dangerous. It looks like an hourglass and is unassuming, but for some reason, it was listed as one of the most dangerous artifacts in the vault. I'm not sure why."

"How long does this viewing window last?" Spencer asked. His interest in artifacts and their use was something we still had in common. We loved finding rare items and discovering why they were created before remanding them to the vault.

"It varies, but it's no more than ten minutes."

"I wonder why nobody has used it. Revisiting an event doesn't sound that dangerous as long as you can't alter the timeline."

"That mandate was made by the guardian of the vault almost three hundred years ago. I can't tell you why without conferring with my mother. I do know it takes some time for the hourglass to recharge. Anywhere from a few months to decades."

"How do you focus its power on a specific time and date to view?" Spencer asked.

"There is a dial. You set the number to the date you wish to revisit and in seconds you are there. At least that is what it says in the Chronicle of the Guardians book."

"You seem to know a lot about it, despite never using it."

"I studied all the artifacts in the vault to some degree, but honestly less on this one than most. My mother said this one would never be used again. It was blacklisted for lack of a better word."

"Why is that?"

"I didn't know, but if I had to guess, someone used it for nefarious means."

"But it didn't hurt anybody. It can't do that," he insisted.

"Sure, but if a witch used it to confirm her spouse was cheating or some other use that was considered personal gain, then it may have altered the timeline. Perhaps someone found out something they weren't supposed to."

"How could knowledge alter a current timeline?" Spencer asked.

"If I found out my husband was cheating, I would divorce him. Perhaps a couple was supposed to stay together long enough for a child to be born or an event to pass. We have no way to know what repercussions there could be from learning knowledge you aren't supposed to possess."

"Are you at risk by using it?"

"I don't know. I would have to ask my mother before activating it if my reasons are just, but the artifacts remain in our care and are supposed to be used if we are in danger. I believe either me or Kacey is."

Spencer nodded solemnly. "I agree. This is a nightmare, and I won't stop until we find out who is targeting you or Kacey. I will ask Delia to assign Toga to our daughter's protection detail permanently. At least until this is sorted."

I placed my hand on his neck. "Thank you."

"There is nothing I won't do for you."

I smiled at him. "I know. I just need some sleep right now. Can I call you tomorrow?"

Spencer glanced down and when he met my gaze again, the glow in his eyes had faded. "I would like that." He kissed her cheek and exited my home, but as the door shut, it reminded me of a cell door locking.