Chapter 57

57

Farryn

Ididn’t know why my hands shook. Happened every time I did something for another person, as if my body couldn’t deal with the act of kindness, or something.

Following the worn path to Garic’s cabin, I turned the frame in my hands, trying to decide which edge looked better at the top. They were all a bit faulty, thanks to the frailty of the wood, but they would do. I’d even twined a front and a back together, leaving a thin gap at the top to slide his paper through.

Upon reaching the cabin, I knocked on the door and mentally counted down the seconds in my head. When I arrived at fifteen, I knocked again.?Waited another fifteen seconds, then peeked in through the window at the dark and empty room within.

“Garic!” I called out to him, and smashed my face against the glass, noting a plate, a cup, and a fork sitting out on the table. Ready for his next meal. The room inside was clean and tidy, and what sparse furniture stood about appeared well used.

“Garic!” Glancing around the yard, I searched for the black fiddler cap he always wore. In my scanning, I noticed the dogs nosing around something at the edge of the woods, and I crossed the yard toward them, thinking Garic was likely somewhere in the mix.

“Garic!” Hands shaking even more than before, I crossed the yard toward the dogs, whose attention I’d apparently distracted. Cerberus lifted his nose and trotted over to me, seemingly restless and excited, the way he bounced around me. “What has got you so worked up?”

When I finally reached the edge of the forest, the other two dogs sat off to the side, as if to get out of my way. For what, I didn’t know.

Until I rounded the tree.

Scattered over thick, gnarled roots lay a pile of ash that had begun to blow across the ground with the kicking up of the wind. At the base of the tree, halfcocked on an upturned root, lay the fiddler hat. Beside it, a crude chunk of ill-formed metal, whose tip appeared as sharp as a blade, lay across a piece of paper, its surface covered in blood.

I leaned in to see it was the paper on which Garic had written his memories. The one which started out, I am Garic Wilson.

Only, a new line had been added since I’d read it the day before:? I am nothing.

Baffled by the objects, I glanced around the surrounding woods. “Garic!” I shot to my feet and scanned around the tree trunks, which gave an eerie stillness to the woods. The dogs darted off, perhaps thinking I’d alerted them to an intruder. “Garic!”

“Poor bastard.”

At the sound of the voice, I swung around and gasped to find Remy standing over the objects shaking his head.

“Celestial steel. Doesn’t get more final than that.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You’re looking for Garic, aren’t you?”

“Yes, have you seen him?”

Remy bent down and lifted a handful of ash into his palm, letting it sift through his fingers and carry on the air. “Yeah. I’d say so.”

A cold hollow filled my chest as I attempted to absorb what he was saying. “Are you telling me that’s … that’s Garic?”

“Body bursts into flames seconds after the metal penetrates the flesh.”

“He … killed himself.”

“Are you really not catching on, princess?”

“Don’t call me princess.” In a half-dazed stupor, I stared down at the paper, and while I should’ve been sad, should’ve been mourning the poor soul who’d taken his own life, the only thing I felt was anger. Wild, irrational anger.

“Why?” I whispered, studying the object he must’ve used to kill himself.

“Some people can’t handle the truth.”

My anger sharpened, like a laser beam. “Evie did this.”

“You think she killed him?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Not directly. She told him his wife was never coming back.”

Whistling, Remy shook his head and pushed to his feet, standing beside me. “That dame definitely has a mean streak.”

“Yeah, she’s a cold-hearted bit--”

“Easy now. Not like she put the blade to his throat. Unless she did.” He glanced down at the weapon. “Nah. This was all him.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Saw him do it.”

I snapped my gaze toward him. “What? You let him do this? Why? Why wouldn’t you stop him?” One hard shove hardly moved Remy, at all, but he held up his hands.

“What do you mean let? When a man wants to end it, that’s on him. It’s not my job to jump in and save the day.”

“He could’ve just been in a bad place. A few encouraging words might’ve kept him from following through!” Another useless shove served as nothing more than to vent some of my anger. “Do you not have a single drop of compassion in you? Damn it, Remy!”

“Settle down, princess. You’re going to have a stroke.”

“Stop calling me princess!” In my fit, I kicked the remaining pile of ash, sending it flying into the air, where it flew back at our faces. The bits of Garic’s remains hit my eyes, and I coughed, wiping the powdery dust away.

“Ah! Fuck!” Remy scraped his finger over his tongue and spat on the ground. “Fucker got in my mouth!”

Slapping a hand over my mouth was all I could do to keep from laughing, but it failed when I snorted and more ash expelled from my nose. At that, I couldn’t contain the laughter that flew past my lips, and I bent forward on a hard laugh.

Remy glanced over at me and what started as a small chuckle turned into a full-on tearful laugh. It wasn’t long before both of us could hardly stand upright, we were laughing so hard.

When it finally died down, a somber stillness clung to the air, and I stared down at the paper still lying on the ground. Beside it lay the frame I’d made, which I must’ve dropped in all my laughing.

I reached down to pick both of them up. “I never understood suicide. For years, I got told that was how my father died. I guess … I never accepted that as a possibility. But maybe I should.”

“Hey, hey, wait.” Remy dug into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a piece of string. “Before you go giving up on me, I need to show you this.”

“A string?” I asked, unimpressed.

He held up a finger, and on his outstretched palm, he folded and twisted the string into a shape. “I found this left behind on the doorstep. Just like this.”

When he held it up for me to see, I nearly choked. An infinity symbol. One my father had left for me on Aunt Nelle’s doorstep a number of times when I was growing up.

I snatched the string from his hands and clutched it tight in my palm. “Where did you see this? Here?” I glanced around like I’d find the answer. “You’re certain it was in this shape?”

“Yeah. I’m certain. But I didn’t find it here. I found it at your house. On the other side.”

“You … you went to my house?”

He shrugged. “You asked me to find your dad. I’m covering the bases.”

“And--and have you had any luck? Any idea where he might be?”

“Not yet. But I’m following a lead. I’m close. I promise.”

I pondered the possibility that my father had left the symbol at Aunt Nelle’s for me. Throughout the years, before his disappearance, I’d sometimes find small trinkets that left me thinking he’d left them behind. Symbols that were obvious to decode at the time, one of which was a string purposely shaped into an elongated figure eight, something he’d always told me represented his love for me. “He’s alive, then.”

“Pretty sure.”

Holding the string to my chest, I fought to hold back the tears that prickled my eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Before I could protest, Remy wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him. “I’m going to find him, okay?”

“You can … you can cross planes, right?”

He eyed me with suspicion. “You know about the planes?”

“Yeah.” I pulled away from him, staring up at him. “You can take others across planes?”

“I’m not like a Boeing, or anything. I can take maybe one other. But I haven’t done that in a long time. You saying you want to go back?”

Lowering my gaze, I shook my head. “No. Of course not. I mean … not right now. But if I needed to …”

His finger hooked beneath my chin, and he lifted my gaze to his. “I’ll take you.”

The creeping sensation of betrayal swept over me, and I gave a sharp nod, wanting to put distance between me and the thought of going behind Jericho’s back. Sickened by the thought, I turned to walk away, but Remy yanked me back.

Eager lips captured mine in an unwelcomed kiss.

Palms to his chest, I pushed him off me, successfully that time. “What the hell are you doing!”

“I’m sorry. Lucifer in hell, you smell so good. That scent … it’s in my head, and I … I want to fuck you so badly right now.” He ran a hand down his face and shook his head. Only then did I notice the rims of his eyes were red. “I went to that old house of yours. Going through pictures and shit of you.”

“You went through my pictures?”

“Had to find one of your dad.”

“I showed you a picture of my dad.”

“What the fuck do you think I have? Photographic memory? Half of Chicago is bald old men. That’s like finding a needle in a stack of needles.”

“You’re an asshole. I can’t believe you went through my stuff.”

His cheek twitched and he looked away. Guiltily.

“You better not have taken anything of mine,” I warned.

“Nah. Just …” He reached into the other pocket and held up a pair of my panties, which dangled from his fingertip.

Swiping them out of his hand, I growled back at him. “You really are an asshole!”

Frustrated, I stormed back toward the cathedral, leaving him standing at the edge of the woods.

“I promise I only took the one pair!” He called after me, but I didn’t bother to look back.

Asshole.

* * *

Ishaped the string into the infinity symbol on the duvet of my bed and traced a finger over its conjoined loops. It had to be a message from my father. Who else would’ve known to leave that? He must’ve visited me in the time I’d been gone. Which meant he could very well have still been alive.

Alive!

So many thoughts plagued my head. The most perplexing? Whether to stay where I was, with Jericho, or cross back over and aid the search.

I’d be lying if I said the thought of leaving didn’t trouble me a little. It didn’t make sense that I’d want to stay in Nightshade. That I’d want to risk losing myself there. But the intrigue of Jericho had gripped me by the throat. The man fascinated me. Set my body on fire. I noticed the draw every time he was around me. Like electricity, something sparked between us, some inexplicable pull that titillated my senses.

He’d have called it fate. Proof of a former existence.

I, on the other hand, didn’t know what I believed. The possibility confused me.

But my father could’ve been alive. Possibly in danger.

As I stared down at the symbol, my thoughts drifted into a black void of emptiness, wherein a voice spoke to me. ‘Dominus vigilans,’ it whispered. The sound of it jolted me out of my trance, and I lurched forward, glancing around my room for any sign of its speaker.

Aside from the furniture and the fairy dress that still lay haphazardly thrown on the chaise, there was nothing in the room with me. No one.

But the words remained. Twisting and tearing at my thoughts, until a face came to mind.

Alicia. She’d said that to me at the Hallow Fest. I’d heard it before.

Where?

Eyes screwed shut, I mentally repeated the words, until another face took form in my thoughts.

Father Bane.

He’d said the same thing to me. What was the significance of it, though?

From the stack of books beside me, I lifted the Latin text. What I wouldn’t have given to Google it. Purgatory really needed to catch up to the times.

At the click of the door, I snapped my gaze to where Jericho nearly filled the frame, the sight of him distracting my ruminating.

“I heard the news about Garic.” As usual, his voice held a calm that I wished I could’ve bottled.? “That must’ve been very difficult for you to stumble upon.”

My stomach gurgled when my thoughts flipped from Garic to the unwelcomed kiss that I wished I could’ve annihilated from my brain with a laser beam. I had to mentally will myself not to look repulsed by it and risk tipping Jericho off. “It was.”

The moment he stepped into the room, that pull of energy had my skin prickling, and I crossed my legs to the tickle in my thighs.

“What is this now? A new craft?” Even the sound of his voice somehow sent a flutter to my stomach.

Wearing a smile, I glanced down at the string still lying on the duvet. “I’m actually trying to decipher the meaning of a phrase.”

“What is the phrase?”

“Dominus vigilans.”

A groove in his forehead marked a tight frown. “Where did you hear this?”

“Alicia said it to me the other night. I didn’t remember it until now. I know its translation, but the significance of it eludes me.”

“It is the basis of the Pentacrux. Their calling card, if you will. They believe they are the chosen watchdogs of the heavens. The archangels sent to protect the righteous.”

“What? Why would …? Oh. God. Father Bane. He … he said that to me. Just before I arrived in Nightshade.”

Pushing up from the bed, he dragged a hand down his face. “Then, he knows who you are. They know you exist. I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

“A matter of time for what?”

“Before the Pentacrux tracked you down.” Hands behind his back, he paced slowly. Calmly, as I’d expect of the man. “According to the ancient prophecy, you bring about their destruction on the blood moon.”

“They … they think you’re going to … because I’m reincarnated … from Lustina.”

“Yes. But you have nothing to fear, so long as you remain here.”

Huffing, I turned slightly away from him so he couldn’t see my flinching.

“What? What is it?”

“Remy may have found my father. In the mortal realm.”

“Remy?” As expected, the tone of his voice sounded far from thrilled.

“He offered to find him and apparently crossed planes to investigate where I live. My father left something behind for me. A sign. Remy brought it back for me.”

The uncomfortable silence prompted me to dare a peek back at him.

“You tasked Remy with finding your father, after I told you I would assist?”

“This was way before. When I mended his wound, to show his gratitude, he offered to do something nice in return. I didn’t know he was going to go all out.”

Lips peeled back in disgust, he made an unappreciative sound in his throat. “I wish you would’ve come to me. Remy may seem relatively harmless, but he’s still Fallen.”

“Yeah, well, I wish I would’ve gone to you, too. He apparently went through my things.”

“What things?”

“Personal things.”

“I’ll be having a chat with Remy,” he said through clenched teeth.

In a beat of urgency, I lurched toward him. “No! No, wait. Please. He’s apparently following a lead. Please just let him do this. I know he’s a complete ass, but if he can track down my dad … then …”

“Then, what?”

“It may make staying here with you easier. If I know he’s okay.”

The tic of his jaw told me he was pissed, but the way he remained quiet through it all gave me a small bit of hope. “You would stay, knowing your father could very well be alive on the other side?”

“Yes. As long as he’s not in harm’s way.”

Jaw shifting, as he seemed to be literally chewing on the thought. “Very well. I’ll not intervene. But you are not to go near Remy at any point.”

“And what if he does track down my father? Will you at least allow me to visit him? To see him once more?”

“No.” That single word, so matter of fact, struck me like a slap to the face. There was no compromise in his tone. No intentions of bending in the slightest.

“Wait. What?”

“The Pentacrux will find you. They will track you down. And they will try to kill you.” His jaw shifted. “And there will be nothing I can do from here.”

“Haven’t they been hunting me my whole life?”

“Perhaps. But what happened before no longer matters. My memory has been restored. Therefore, they won’t be coming near you.”

“So, what happens when the blood moon is over and no one has been slaughtered.”

“I don’t know. That didn’t happen the last time.” Towering over me, he cupped my face, gently rubbing his thumb over my cheek. “But I can assure you, history will not repeat itself. I will do everything in my power to assure that. Everything. And you will have to trust me.”