Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

B y the time we get home, I've already sobered up a bit. Beverly's car is in my driveway, and the porchlight is on.

"I had a good time tonight, Tamzin," Damon says as he puts the car in park.

"I did too," I admit. He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "It's nice to have a new friend in my life."

"Umm, yeah. Exactly," he says.

"I mean—" I turn in my seat to face him. "—we are friends, right? Like, can I really trust you? You aren't just, like, trying to gain my trust so you can turn on me and torture me, right?"

"It doesn't work like that, Tamzin," he says. "If I were torturing you, you'd know it. And besides, you trust Beverly, right? She told you I'm not a threat."

"Okay, maybe not now. But what about when we free you? Will you fulfill your duty to the Dark Lord then and torture me?"

He pauses for a moment, thoughtful. "I don't want to torture you. Yeah, I enjoy my life. The freedom, the power. But torturing humans lost its appeal a long time ago. It's just a job to me now. But that is why we have to find out who cursed you and how to break the curse. We can't have Bella free me but still leave me bound to finish the job I was assigned."

I nod slowly. I believe him. Or, at least, I want to believe him.

"We should go inside," I say. "Beverly is probably going to think we are doing something more than talking if we linger too long."

"Yeah. Can't let her think she was right about us being soulmates," Damon says, opening his door. "She might get a big head or something."

I chuckle and try to open my door, but it seems really heavy. I then remember that I'm a little punch drunk still. Damon opens the door for me and helps me out of the car. I lean into him as we walk up to the door. I'm not sure where my keys are, so we have to knock, which sets Dash to barking. I then remember that Damon has them since he drove. But before he can manage the keys and me, Beverly opens the door with the biggest grin on her face I've ever seen.

"Well, looks like you two had a nice night," she says, moving out of the way so we can walk in. Dash barks and happily dances around my feet.

"Yeah, thanks," I say deadpan. Mr. Darcy meows at me from the kitchen table.

"Mommy, Mommy!" Bella says as she runs toward me with a stick in her hand.

"Hey, no running with sticks," I say.

"It's not a stick. It's a magic wand," she says. That's when I get a better look at it—I have to squint—and see that it has a crystal on the end, is tied with ribbons, and has symbols carved into it. It's cute, but looks like something you could pick up at the Ren Faire.

"Oh, really? That's awesome, sweetie," I say. "But why are you still up? It's late." I look at my watch and see that it's only around ten o'clock. Not crazy late, but still past her bedtime.

"Beverly was showing me how to use the wand," Bella says. She waves it and says some magic words, turning on the coffee pot. I can't help but laugh.

"That's awesome, but I think what I really need is some cold water."

"Okay!" She does the trick again, this time turning on the sink.

"That's great, honey." I kiss the top of her head. "Why don't you go upstairs and get into your jammies and I'll be up to tuck you in soon."

"Okay!" She runs upstairs, Dash happily barking as she follows behind her. Mr. Darcy meows at me again, so I try to go to the cabinet where I keep his food, but I nearly twist my ankle in the process.

"Hey, careful there," Damon says, helping me to a kitchen chair.

"I'm fine," I say. "I just have to get these shoes off."

"Well, let me help you," he says, but I push him away. I don't like how he is taking care of me in front of Beverly, giving her ideas about us.

"I'm fine. Can you, like, go upstairs or something? I need to talk to Beverly."

I can see on his face that his feelings are hurt, but I can smooth things over with him later. Right now, I need to focus on Beverly.

"Right," Damon says. "See you tomorrow. Night, Beverly."

"Good night, Damon," she says.

Beverly crosses her arms and looks at me disappointingly. "Well, that was rude," she says once he's gone.

"Me?" I ask, unstrapping my shoes and kicking them to the floor. "The only person being rude around here is you."

"Me?" she asks.

"Yes, you!" I say. Mr. Darcy meows at me again and I pet his head before going to find his food. "You were way out of line sending us on a date together."

"Oh, hogwash," she says, waving me off like an annoying bug.

"It's not hogwash," I say. "You had no right to do that."

"It's not me," she says. "It's the universe. Take it up with fate."

"Oh, come on," I say. "You know I don't believe in that garbage."

"Why not?"

"Because it couldn't have been fate that killed…" I let out a curse and slink back down in my chair. I don't want to cry, but I can't really help it. I feel nauseous, maybe from the alcohol, but I'm not sure.

Beverly sighs and fixes me a glass of ice water. She sits in a chair next to me, offering me the glass. I take a long drink and feel a little better almost instantly. I have to wonder if she mixed in a little magical hangover cure with the water.

"Look, I know what you've been through," Beverly says. "I was with you at the hospital, wasn't I?"

I nod. She was there because she had been with Bella that day. She had been the one to take Bella to the hospital in the hopes of Bella getting a chance to say goodbye. But it was too late.

"Fate didn't kill Mark," Beverly says. "And if Mark were still alive, it's not like you'd still be married to him but then find out your soulmate was a demon and that you'd married the wrong person. I don't even know all the ins and outs of how it works. This isn't a power I asked for. All I know is that sometimes the universe sends us what we need when we need it. And if the universe is telling me that the person you need in your life right now is Damon, then I have a duty to make sure you and Damon have a chance to figure that out for yourselves."

"There is absolutely no way that my soulmate can be a demon," I say.

"How do you know that?" Beverly asks. "Sophia thought the last person she would ever marry would be a warlock. And do you think Beckett ever imagined he would fall in love with a ghost?"

"That's still not the same thing as a demon sent to torture me," I say. "I'm from Mystic Cove. I'd easily date a warlock or ghost. A demon is something completely different."

"Oh, that's nonsense."

"How?" I ask.

"Because you won't let yourself date anyone," she says.

"Well, that's true," I say. "But that isn't what we were talking about."

"Maybe it should be."

"That's what my therapist is for."

"Ha!" Beverly barks a laugh. "I feel sorry for that poor woman. You've wasted years of her time with your refusal to make progress."

"That's not fair," I say. "Grief is a process, and I'm allowed to go through that process at my own pace."

Beverly sighs and sits back in her chair. "Well, that is true. And I suppose I would agree with you if you were making any progress at all. But it seems like you have been stuck in the same place for four years. There is a difference between making progress at your own pace and refusing to make any progress at all. Which is it with you?"

I shake my head. "I don't know sometimes." I lift my head and look up to the ceiling, at the second floor where I know Damon is. "What's weird is that I feel like maybe I have made progress this week, ever since you-know-who showed up."

"Oh," Beverly says, giving me a nosey smile. "Do tell."

"It's nothing big," I say. "But tonight was the first night in a long time that I had fun. And this whole week has just been…fun."

"Now, that sounds like progress," Beverly says. "You'll have to bring it up with your doctor at your next appointment."

"I will," I say as Mr. Darcy gets into my lap and purrs. I run my hands over his fluffy fur and scratch his chin.

"Well, I should get home and give these old bones a rest."

I walk her to the door, where she slips her shoes on. "Thanks, Beverly. For…well, everything."

"Of course, dear," she says, pulling me in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I won't." I watch as Beverly gets into her purple mini-coop and drives away. I close and lock the door, setting the alarm and putting Mr. Darcy on the floor.

When I get upstairs, I start to go into Bella's room to kiss her goodnight, but I see that Damon is in there, sitting by her bed and telling her a story.

"That's not true!" Bella says.

"How do you know?" Damon asks. "Were you there?"

"No."

"Well, I was."

"How old are you?"

"It doesn't matter," Damon says. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. So, Scheherazade says to me, ‘My Lord, the king has given me another night to continue telling him stories. What should I tell him?' And that was when I told her the amazing tale of Aladdin's Wonderful Lamp ."

"You did not!" Bella says with a screeching laugh.

"I did!" Damon laughs too.

I stifle a laugh of my own so as not to interrupt them. I wonder if Scheherazade was one of Damon's many paramours. Wasn't she supposed to be a legendary beauty? Not that I'm jealous; I just find it interesting. I bet Damon does have endless stories he could tell. And seeing the smile on Bella's face stirs something in me that I haven't felt in a long time. It would be wonderful if Bella could have a father again. She herself said that she wanted me to start dating. Did she know I was out with Damon tonight? I hope Beverly didn't give her any false hope.

I still don't know if I should give Damon a chance. The idea of dating a demon is a frightening prospect. But maybe I should start dating again. If not for me, then for Bella.