Chapter 20

Twenty

I’m numb all the way back to Duval House.

Numb and faraway.

The things you could do, Jessie…

When we reach the house, we pull in beneath the porte-cochère . Jimmy is there, waiting with several other vampires. They have pole stretchers for Damien and Kelly.

They still haven’t regained consciousness.

I turn in the passenger seat of the SUV to glance back at my sister. Bran settled them into the crook of the SUV’s back door with Damien leaning against it and Kelly tucked into his side.

Will they ever wake up? Or are they trapped in a spell like Sleeping Beauty, forever waiting for the other’s kiss?

Once we’re parked, Jimmy and another vampire slowly open the back door and pull Damien out first and deposit him on a stretcher. Kelly slumps over in his absence, before Bran catches her and lifts her out like she weighs nothing at all.

“Take them to the infirmary,” Jimmy orders.

I don’t have the energy to be shocked that Duval House has an infirmary.

Bianca races up to us, having driven separately. She’s disheveled and there’s still a smudge of blood on her cheek.

Is she already regretting joining Duval House?

“I’m here,” she says, panting.

It isn’t until Bran comes around to the passenger side that I realize I’m still sitting in the SUV. “Come on, Mouse.” He offers me his hand. I just blink at it.

“I…I’m not…”

“Can you walk?” he asks.

“I…”

He moves to carry me out, but I push him away. “I can walk.”

“Then I need you to do it. Come.”

I slip out of the SUV and feel slightly better once my feet are on solid ground, once I drink in a deep breath of fresh air. It’s dark beyond the golden glow of the house, and the crickets are chirping in the warm summer night. I wish I was doing anything else other than this.

Bran hooks his arm around my waist and drives me toward the side entrance. He barks orders as we walk. “Michael and Anthony on the east side of the property, Isaac and Danielle on the west side. Jimmy, get the rest of the guard on the north and south ends and then double check that the security system is functioning properly. Bianca.”

“Yes?” she says from my right side.

“I need you to tell me what happened to my brother and Kelly.”

“Of course. I’ll do my best.”

“Your best is only good enough if it gets me answers.”

Bee nods at him. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Good. If you need something in the meantime, ask Jimmy. No expense is too large. Whatever it is, you’ll get it. Keep me updated.”

“I will,” she promises before she veers off, chasing after Damien and Kelly.

“I want to see my sister,” I say, but my voice sounds far away.

Bran says nothing. He steers me through the house, through the French doors and into the Anneliese. He’s silent still as we enter the house and go to the bedroom and finally to the bathroom. He starts up the shower.

“Bran,” I say, my voice wobbling. “I want to see my sister.”

“After you shower,” he says.

“I don’t want a shower. I want to?—”

“I can smell Julian on you, Mouse. You reek of his death. I need you to shower. Right now. Please .”

I finally look at him and meet his eyes. There’s no glow to his irises. But there is something else. Some shifting shadow.

Fear.

He’s being gentle. When has Bran ever been gentle with me?

I swallow hard and try not to let my own fear consume me.

“I don’t know what that was back there,” I tell him, the hysteria making my voice shake. “I don’t know how I did it. Maybe it was just a fluke or?—”

Steam fills the bathroom.

“Please get in the shower.”

Every muscle in his body is coiled.

Every fiber of him on the edge of vibrating.

I nod and strip off my clothes and get in the shower.

Once I’m beneath the hot spray, some of the tension eases out of my muscles. That is until I hear the bathroom door click closed.

I can feel the distance widening between us.

I stopped Bran in his tracks with nothing more than a single word.

The things you could do, Jessie…

Something tells me Bran Duval isn’t familiar with being powerless.

Everything has changed. Did he expect it to be this way? He knew I had a hidden power. Surely he must have known it was something with some worth, otherwise Julian wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble.

But maybe this is worse than he thought.

Maybe I am terrifying.

I finish up and get dressed. Hair still dripping and knotty, I make my way to the living room and spot Bran in the courtyard smoking a cigarette. I’ve yet to see him smoke, but I’ve smelled it on him.

There’s something inherently sexual about the way he inhales, how the curl of his finger is exaggerated as he pulls it away from his mouth.

When he exhales, he paints the night in smoke.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

He takes another hit, holding the smoke in his lungs a beat. “I don’t know,” he admits and exhales.

“Anything from Bianca yet?”

“Not yet.” He goes over to a stone bench nestled among flowering bushes and sits.

I join him and am horribly aware of how rigid he is beside me.

“Bran—”

“You’re more powerful than I thought you’d be,” he admits, then snorts, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. He takes another long drag, the ember blazing orange. When he pushes the smoke back out, he goes on. “I thought maybe you could wield fae magic like a weapon. Maybe you could cast a really, really deceptive glamour. Controlling an entire room of extremely powerful supernatural creatures?” He shakes his head to himself and looks across the garden. “That…that I never would have imagined.”

I lean into him and hook my arm through his, resting my head against his shoulder. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“But…what does this mean? Are you…I mean, are we…?” I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Are we okay? Will we survive this? Am I terrifying to you?

He drops the cigarette and crushes the ember beneath his boot, then takes my hand in his. “Make me a promise, Mouse.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Give me a safe word.”

“What?”

“Something we can both agree on that should that happen again, if I use the word, you’ll release me immediately.”

“Bran—”

“Give me this, Mouse.”

I meet his gaze and find a pulsing glow in his irises. There’s desperation there.

“Okay. What’s the word?”

He squeezes my hand and brings it to his mouth. His breath is warm across my knuckles as he thinks.

“Lavender,” he finally says.

“Really?”

“It reminds me of home.”

I don’t think he means Duval House and it makes me realize I know nothing about where he was born or what life he had before he was turned. The only thing I know about him is who he is in Midnight Harbor at this moment in time.

“Okay. Lavender. You can use it at any time, for any reason,” I say. “Not that I plan on using that power on you. I don’t know if I’ll ever use it again. In fact…what if we just don’t undo the binding? I mean…I could put the necklace back on and we could forget about it and?—”

“No.” He stands and pulls me up beside him. “It’s part of you and you should absolutely use it for that reason. But beyond that, everyone who matters was in that Pledge Hall tonight. You’ll have to use it. Because if you don’t, they’ll use you.”

Bran’s attention wanders away from me and Jimmy appears a second later. “Damien?” he asks her.

“No.” There are bags beneath Jimmy’s eyes and her lips are chapped. She looks about as great as I feel. I don’t know what the Lockes did to get past her and grab Kelly, but I am absolutely sure she did everything in her power to protect my sister.

“If it’s not Damien,” Bran says, his words turning coarse, “then I don’t?—”

“There’s someone at the front door,” she blurts.

Bran’s brow furrows. “Who?”

“A brownie.” Her gaze darts to me. “Says he knows Jessie. Says it’s time they talk.”

“The fuck is a brownie doing here?” Bran says.

A tingling numbness rushes down my limbs. “The letter,” I say. “The one my mom wrote.”

Bran sighs. “Fuck.”

“Yes.”

My mom mentioned a brownie in her letter, the one she crossed paths with in the park when I was just a year old. The same one who knew instantly what I was and asked my mom if she stole me.

“What do we do?” I ask.

Bran turns a circle, his hands on his hips as he considers it. “If a brownie wants to speak with you, he’ll find a way. It’s better to do it on our territory, when we know the lay of the land.”

I nod. “All right. I’ll follow your lead.” I don’t want Bran to worry about where we stand.

He starts for the French doors. Jimmy and I follow him out and down the hall and to the front door.

“Where is he?” Bran asks.

“He refused to come in,” Jimmy answers. “He’s on the front porch.”

I have to quicken my pace to keep up with Bran’s determined gait. At the front door, hand on the knob, he hesitates.

We all know that everything has changed. But a fae showing up on our doorstep is a true marker of it.

Bran pulls the door open.

I immediately recognize the brownie.

It’s Stanley from The Greasy Spoon.

The cook who makes the best grilled cheese in all of Midnight Harbor.

Usually I see Stanley in his Greasy Spoon uniform—a pale blue shirt with his name embroidered over a pocket on his chest, The Greasy Spoon logo embroidered on the back. Now he’s in a pair of dark trousers and a rough cotton button-up shirt with a tweed cap on his head.

In this setting, he seems different. Less grizzled diner cook, more withered fae. Like he just stepped out of the hollow of a tree and has yet to shake off the magic of the forest.

“Stanley?” I say and come out on the porch. “You’re a brownie? How come you didn’t?—”

He takes a mirroring step back. “You used your magic.”

I level my shoulders, feeling defensive of it. “Yes. It is my magic, isn’t it?”

“They’ll feel you,” he says.

“Who?”

His eyes dart to Bran just behind me. “This your idea?”

“Of course not, old man. I tried to stop her.”

“Who, Stanley?”

“The Autumn Court,” he answers.

“The court isn’t here though and the gate is closed.”

He licks his lips, nods. “Now that you’ve used your power, they’ll find a way to get through.”

“Why?”

He looks at Bran again. “You could take her away from here. Compel her to forget.”

“Excuse me?—”

“I won’t do that to her.”

“I’m right here.”

Stanley’s gaze darts back to me. He removes his hat and clutches the brim in his gnarled hands. “They’ll come for you, Jessie, and it’s hard saying what they’ll do when they find you. Are you ready to become who you are?”

“Do you mean my fae side?”

“That is half.”

“What’s the other half?”

“Are you prepared?” he asks again. “Once you decide, there’s no turning back.” His voice is deep and hoarse. I used to think he smoked a lot, but now I wonder if it’s just age. Brownies can be ancient. He could very well be older than Bran by a millennium.

“I’m not running, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

“Very well.” He turns his hat in his grip and then he sinks to one knee.

My mother’s words come back to me in a rush.

He immediately came over to us and got down on one knee in front of you…

I thought she meant he knelt to get down to my eye level.

But this is not that. For one, I’m an inch or two taller than Stanley. And two…his head is bowed.

The panic takes hold quickly, turning into a band across my chest.

“You’ll need all the help you can get,” he says. “When they come, they will not be merciful.”

“ Stanley ,” I whisper-shout, desperate for him to get up.

“The name is actually Grimwall,” he says. “And I am at your service, Your Royal Highness.”