Chapter 24
Stone
I know as soonas Winnie's tin-can of a car screeches to a halt in the meadow that Rhi isn't there and I flop forward and bury my head in my hands. This is fucking hopeless. We're fucking hopeless. What kind of fucking useless fated mates are we if we can't even find our girl?
"She's not here," I say to Winnie, because Azlan must already know.
"Okay," Winnie says, nodding, her hands still poised on the steering wheel. "Okay. Well, we knew that was most likely going to be the case, but it was worth a try and I say we still search the place."
I lift my head from my hands and attempt to peer out of the window. It's covered in a layer of thick grime but through it I can just about make out Rhi's house, the one she was living in when we found her. I only caught a glimpse of it that day but it definitely didn't look like this – the front door kicked in, the windows all smashed, the walls marked with soot. It looks like someone tried to burn the place down. Anger spirals through my veins. What bunch of fuckers did that to her home? I doubt they've left anything intact, anything behind.
"I think we're going to find jack shit in there," I say, but Winnie's not to be deterred. She's out of the driver's seat and already striding to the house.
"Woah, there, Miss speedy pants," I hiss, jogging to her side and grabbing her arm. "Less haste, more speed, okay? There may be some … unsavory types lurking inside."
"In there?" she says with skepticism, pointing to the wreck of the house. She has a point. It isn't exactly the ideal hang-out spot.
I probe for any whirring minds lurking inside and I find nothing. "I can't hear anyone," I tell my friend. "You wanna check?"
I keep a hold of Winnie's arm and let Azlan pass through the doorway first. We hear his heavy boots stomping through the building and then he calls out, "All clear."
Winnie yanks her arm from my grip and hurries inside and I shove my hands in my pockets and follow after her.
I'm intrigued to see where Rhi lived. The girl is still a goddamn mystery to me – so many things I don't know about her. I'm sure this house will reveal all sorts of things to me. But I'm also reluctant to step inside. Someone has violated her home, and it's like they've violated Rhi herself. It makes me feel sick.
Inside the place is a mess. It's clear someone did try to burn the place down and failed, or perhaps they lit a fire that got out of control. The living room is a charred mess, nothing having survived the flames. The rest of the place, though trashed, has fared slightly better. Winnie disappears up the staircase and I find Azlan standing in the kitchen, cans, boxes and packets strewn all over the floor.
"She was here," he says with certainty.
"How can you tell?"
"Her scent."
I shake my head, disappointed. "She came back here a few weeks ago, remember?"
"No," he says, his eyes gleaming with a renewed hope. "It was more recent than that." He closes his eyes and inhales, his broad chest expanding as he sucks in the air. "Only a few days ago. She can't be far from here, Phoenix."
I scoff. "Azlan, she's with Barone. He could have taken her anywhere he wanted."
My friend's shoulders sink in disappointment. As he opens his eyes, Winnie enters the kitchen.
"Anything?" I ask her.
"It looks like someone was staying in her bedroom. The bed looks slept in."
"Azlan thinks she was here a few days ago. But she's gone now. And where …" I trail off.
"Shit," Winnie says, the first time I think I've ever heard miss-goodie-two-shoes curse. She up-rights one of the toppled kitchen chairs and sinks down onto it, pulling a jar filled with herbs towards her and shaking them in her hands. "We must be missing something. There must be a way to find her. You're fated mates for goodness' sake." She slams the jar back down on the tabletop. It skids along the surface, toppling over and rolling towards the edge. I catch it before it falls off the table and place it down more carefully on the top.
"Tambric spice," I say, "wouldn't want that exploding into the air."
"Tambric spice?" Winnie says, her eyes leaping to mine, then the jar and then back to mine again.
"Yeah," I say. "One of the foster dads I stayed with used to rub it into our skin if we," I scowl, "misbehaved."
Winnie winces. "That's awful."
"Yeah," I say, eyeing the content of the jar with disgust.
"But it can be used for other stuff too, right? I'm sure I read …" She pulls out her phone from her pocket, then curses again. "There's no internet signal out here."
"Don't tell me, you want to log on and check your social media?" I say sarcastically. "You think Rhi's posted her whereabouts?"
"No!" she says. "I wanted to check something. I'm sure I read something about Tambric spice and fated mate bonds."
I stare at her, open-mouthed, then grab the jar and lift it to my face.
Tambric spice! Fuck, yes. I read that too in one of those many, many, many fucking text books, journals and periodicals I read on the subject.
"It can be used to enhance a fated mate pair's ability to communicate over distance. It can strengthen the bond," I say, staring at the dried leaves. A purple color I've loathed ever since that fucker rubbed the stuff all over my back. It's hard to like a color when it's caused you so much pain.
"Are you sure?" Azlan says, stepping towards me. He looks dubious as he takes the jar from my hand.
I rub my temples, straining to remember that page, to see it in my mind's eye. "I think so."
Azlan hands it back to me. "You think so," he says flatly.
"I'm almost 100 percent sure."
"Almost?"
"Pretty certain."
"Pretty?"
"I remember reading it," Winnie says, "when I was helping Rhi with her," she waggles a finger at Azlan, "problem."
"Can you remember how to use it?" I ask her.
She considers this, then shakes her head with disappointment. Azlan huffs in irritation and I don't blame him. Every time we seem to gain a step forward, it ends up being a false lead. We have Tambric spice. We think it could help us. We can't remember how the fuck to use it.
"We could experiment with it?" Winnie suggests.
"I'm guessing you've never had an encounter with the stuff?" She shakes her head. "Trust me," I say bitterly, "it isn't something you want to be experimenting with."
"Crap." Winnie chews on her lip. "I can see the stupid page in my head. I can remember where the damn recipe sat, right over there in the top right-hand corner. I just can't …" Her eyes flick up to me. "But you could."
"I could, what?"
"You could read it."
"What?" I say, sounding just as annoyed as Azlan.
"You could read the memory in my head, couldn't you? You could see it and read the instructions."
"Reading memories isn't as," I exhale, "pleasant as reading real-time thoughts, Miss Wence. For you, I mean. For me …" I shrug.
"How unpleasant?"
"Like having your tooth pulled. Without magic to numb the pain."
Winnie sits up straight in her chair. "I'm no wimp, Professor. I have the worst period pains you can imagine–"
"Okay," I say, waving my hand, definitely not needing to hear about that.
"I'm not afraid. And frankly, I'd walk over burning coals and drink poison for Rhi. She saved my life."
"And mine," Azlan says quietly.
Winnie nods. "So, a little discomfort while you scrabble about in my mind is worth it if we can find her and bring her home."
"All right." I place the jar back on the table and roll up my sleeves. "Azlan, I'm going to need you to make a note of what I find. I may only catch a fleeting glimpse and it may not be long enough for me to memorize it."
Azlan swings his gaze, before opening drawers under the countertops. He retrieves a pen, and licking the nib, tests it on a scrap piece of paper he scoops up from the floor.
"Ready?" I ask Winnie. She nods. "Azlan?"
"Ready."
"How long ago was this memory?"
"Back when Rhi was in the hospital."
I rest my fingertips on Winnie's forehead and close my eyes, letting my mind wander into hers. First, I'm presented with a picture of myself, leaning over her and then her whispered thoughts. She's more nervous about how painful this might be than she was letting on, but there's a determination there too, and I can read how much she cares about Rhi, something that lifts the girl even further in my estimation. Rhi's been damn lucky to have a friend like Winnie – a friend who believed in her from the start – unlike us shitheads.
I push that thought away and focus in on the job at hand, brushing past the present and deeper into Winnie's mind, sinking into her memories.
The first few relate to our altercation at Lowsky's compound and the night of the attack. I skip those, plunging deeper, trying not to look at several that involve her and her boyfriend getting naked.
Beneath me, I can hear Winnie wince, sucking in breath, her brow crinkling beneath my fingers. I need to hurry the fuck up.
There are plenty of memories of Rhi in Winnie's head and it breaks my fucking heart to see Rhi opening her heart to her friend, confused, hurt, saddened by our actions. I scroll through them until I find Rhi lying out on a hospital bed, her face pale as snow, her leg all bandaged. I never saw her then, never saw how bad she looked. It has me sucking in breath through my teeth.
"Phoenix?" I hear my friend ask from far, far away. But I'm here now, scanning through all the pages of printed-out information Winnie had read for her friend. Pages and pages and pages – and then there it is. The article on uses of Tambric spice, an entire section dedicated to fated mates. I read it out quickly to Azlan. I can already feel Winnie's mind fighting to eject me, can sense her body weakening beneath me. I need to get out before I cause her any damage. I read it aloud with such speed I'm not sure if Azlan will even understand and once I'm done with the final sentence, I pull myself out. Stumbling away from Winnie, my hands falling to my sides.
I'm panting. My head aching. My vision spinning.
I squint my eyes and peer at Winnie.
"Are you okay?" I ask her. She's slumped in the chair, her brow sweaty, her skin green-tinged.
"Not my best, but I'll live." She eyes me. "You didn't go snooping in there did you?"
"Miss Wence," I say, laying my hand over my heart. "You have my word." To be honest, I have no desire to admit to what I glanced. Nope not going there at all. Winnie Wence is far kinkier than I'd given her credit for.
Winnie massages her temples. "Did you get it down?" she asks Azlan.
"Yeah, I got it," he says, reading through what he's written.
"So," I say. "Does it seem like something we could do?"
"I don't know. How good are you at brewing a potion?" Azlan asks. "Because I could never do that shit."
I frown. It's not exactly my forte either. Who wanted to waste time slaving over a simmering cauldron at the academy when there were far more exciting forms of magic to learn? In fact, it was barely taught.
"Not great," I admit.
"Well, you're lucky I tagged along then, aren't you?" Winnie says, holding her hand out to Azlan. "Because my grandma can brew a wicked potion and she taught me everything she knows."
Azlan passes her the slip of paper and she scans her gaze down the scribbled words, a little frown that worries me forming between her brows.
"Ahhh," she says.
"Ahhh?" I repeat. "What the hell does that mean?"
Winnie peers up at me with her don't-get-fresh-with-me expression. "It means this is one tricky potion. In fact, it's not the kind of potion a person can brew alone. I guess it's not surprising – we're messing with ancient magic here."
"We can help," Azlan says sternly.
"Ahhh," Winnie says again, "no offense but it needs more experienced hands."
Azlan frowns and peers down at his hands. "My hands are experienced."
"Oh I'm sure they are," she mutters under her breath. "We need someone who knows what they're doing. My grandma."
"Your grandma?" I say, scratching my fingers through my beard. "Winnie, every moment away from Rhi is like hell. Every moment Barone could be–"
"Stone," she says, "I know. But this isn't something we can afford to mess up. This is ancient magic we're talking about, the fated mate bond. I'm pretty good at brewing potions but this is beyond my capabilities and I'm not prepared to brew something that ends up damaging Rhi," she tilts her head, "and the two of you," she adds reluctantly. "My grandma can do this. We can leave in the car right now. Sure, it'll take us a little longer but it'll be worth it."
I scratch my beard some more and peer over at my friend. "What do you think?"
"I think we don't have a lot of choices."