Chapter 25

As Justice stood before me, his sword raised and his body a shield between me and Garrick's wrath, I felt a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly brought me to my knees. Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision, but I couldn't look away from the man who had become my everything.

At that moment, all my fear and dread began to melt away. The terror of facing a Garrick who no longer knew me, who saw me only as an enemy to be cut down, was replaced by a warmth that started in my chest and spread through my entire being.

Justice remembered me. Despite the Grimoire's cruel machinations, despite the curse that had stolen so much from us, the love we declared in those desperate, passionate moments before the ritual had survived. The bond between us, forged in the fire of shared trials and tempered by the depth of our feelings, had proven stronger than any dark magic.

I thought back to the anguish in Justice's eyes as we faced the Grimoire, the way he'd held me as if he could shield me from the impending loss by sheer force of will alone. The memory of his kiss, fierce and tender and filled with a love that defied words, had been a talisman against the darkness.

Seeing him here, ready to defend me against impossible odds, I knew our love had not been in vain. The Grimoire may have stolen my memories of hunting, may have twisted Garrick into a dark parody of the friend I once knew, but it had not erased the most precious truth of all. Justice and I belonged to each other, heart and soul.

Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks, but they were tears of relief, of gratitude, of a love so vast and deep that it could reshape the fabric of the universe. In a world where nothing made sense, where ancient curses and supernatural threats lurked in every shadow, the fact that Justice still knew me, still loved me, was a miracle beyond price.

I wanted to run to him, to throw my arms around him and never let go. I wanted to tell him a thousand times over how much he meant to me, how the thought of losing him had been a wound more grievous than any sword could inflict.

Yet, this was not the time for reunions or revelation. Garrick still stood before us, and the Archives of Shadows held secrets that could unravel the foundations of our world.

I placed my hand on Justice's arm, feeling the tension thrumming beneath his skin. The urge to flee, to put as much distance as possible between us and Garrick's murderous intent, was nearly overwhelming.

"Come on," I urged, my voice low and urgent. "We need to get out of here."

Justice didn't take his eyes off Garrick, his sword still held at the ready. "No, Sawyer. You need to remember your vision about why we're here. Because I can't. The only thing I do remember is you and how I've given you my heart."

The words hit me like a physical blow. In the chaos and terror of the moment, I had almost forgotten the true reason we came to the Archives of Shadows. The vision that had haunted my dreams, the fractured memories of a mirror and a demon that held the key to unraveling Maci's evil plans.

"I remember." My voice gained strength as the details of the vision came flooding back. "The mirror, the demon. It's here somewhere, in the Archives. We have to find it."

Justice nodded, a flicker of relief passing over his face. "Then let's finish this. Together."

He turned back to Garrick, his stance unwavering. "I don't want to fight you, Garrick, but I won't let you hurt her. Stand down and let us pass."

Garrick's laughter was a jagged, ugly thing. "You really think you can stop me, vampire? You're weak, burdened by your pathetic feelings for this hunter. I'll cut you down where you stand, then I'll finish what I started with her."

My blood ran cold, but I refused to let the fear control me. I stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Justice, and gave Garrick a hard stare. "You're wrong, Garrick. Love isn't a weakness. It's the strongest thing there is. If you can't remember that, if you can't remember the love you once had for Maggie, you're already lost."

Something flickered in Garrick's eyes at the mention of Maggie's name. A brief hesitation, a flash of confusion. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, swallowed by the Grimoire's malevolent influence.

"Enough talk," Garrick snarled, raising his sword. "Time to die."

He lunged, his blade a blur of deadly motion. Justice met him head-on, their swords clashing in a shower of sparks. I darted to the side, my mind racing as I tried to formulate a plan.

We needed to find a mirror to uncover the secrets that could break the demons' hold on people and supernaturals. I wondered if it would loosen the Grimoire's hold on Garrick and restore his stolen memories. At least about Maggie. First, we had to survive this fight.

The clash of swords echoed through the Archives, each metallic clang sending a jolt of fear through my body. Justice's and Garrick's breathing grew labored, releasing grunts of exertion and pain as they traded blows. The scent of sweat and blood hung heavy in the air.

I scanned my surroundings, looking for anything to give me an edge. My gaze landed on the nearest towering bookcase again, and a desperate plan began to form.

I ran to the bookcase and planted my hands against its rough, wooden surface. With a grunt of effort, I pushed with all my might, hoping to topple the heavy shelves onto Garrick and break his concentration. The bookcase refused to budge, remaining solidly in place as if mocking my efforts.

I cursed under my breath, realizing the shelves must be bolted to the floor. I couldn't rely on brute force to win this fight. I needed to be smarter, faster, more creative than my opponent.

A loud cry of pain made my head snap around. Justice was stumbling back, his sword arm hanging limply at his side. Garrick advanced on him, his eyes glinting with a feral, triumphant light.

My heart seized. I couldn't let Garrick win, couldn't let him take Justice from me again. With a burst of desperate energy, I leaped up, scaling the bookcase like a cat.

From my new vantage point, I could see the two men below, their swords flashing in the dim light of the Archives. Garrick's back was to me, his attention fully focused on Justice.

I didn't hesitate. I grabbed an armful of heavy, leather-bound books and launched off the top of the bookcase. As I plummeted toward Garrick, I released a fierce battle cry, unleashing a hail of impromptu projectiles.

"Chew on this, you Grimoire-possessed bastard!"

The books rained down on Garrick, striking his head and shoulders with bruising force. He staggered under the onslaught, and his sword wavered.

I hit the ground in a roll, coming up in a crouch next to Justice. I met his startled, pain-filled gaze with a fierce, determined one.

"I've got your back." I reached for another book. "Let's finish this."

Justice lunged forward, his sword a blur of silver. Still reeling from the onslaught of books, Garrick couldn't bring his blade up in time to parry. With a cry of pain and surprise, he dropped to his knees.

Justice towered over the fallen king, his chest heaving with exertion and rage. He raised his sword high, the point aimed directly at Garrick's exposed throat. At that moment, I saw a fury I had never witnessed before in his eyes. A primal, protective wrath that sought to eliminate any threat to my safety.

Beneath that fury, I also saw pain. The pain of betrayal, of being forced to fight a man he had considered a friend. The pain of having his memories, his identity, ripped away.

I lunged forward, grabbing Justice's sword arm with both hands. "No, don't!"

Justice's head snapped toward me, his teeth bared in a snarl. "He was going to kill you."

The anguish in his voice tore at my heart. Justice would do anything to protect me, even if it meant striking down a man who'd once been his ally.

But this was not the way. Garrick was a victim, just like us, a pawn in Maci's twisted game.

"Don't you see?" I pleaded, my voice cracking with emotion. "The Grimoire stole his memory of us. He's our ally, not our enemy."

I looked down at Garrick, who knelt motionless at Justice's feet. The rage had drained from his face, replaced by confusion and fear. He looked less like a mighty king and more like a lost child, adrift in a world he no longer understood.

"We can't let Maci win," I whispered, turning back to Justice. "We have to find a way to break not only the Grimoire's curse, to restore what was taken from us, but the demonic one that is possessing people back home."