Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

GWEN

L uke told me everything the day my dad left. As I rested my head on his chest, absorbing the shock of loss, he began to speak. His voice was even, his words deliberate, as if he'd been rehearsing what he had to say for a long time.

"There are secrets I've kept from the coven. Sometimes, those secrets feel so heavy, I think I'll collapse if I have to hold onto them one more second," he said. "But I don't want to keep secrets from you, Gwen. Not anymore."

I was numb and exhausted from the malevolent magic I'd used the night before, the magic that had driven my father away. In that melancholy daze, his words didn't shock me. The closer I got to Luke, the more he felt like a part of me. I could sense there was something he'd been holding back. Now, more than ever, I didn't want missing pieces. I wanted all of him.

As I lay there, listening to the beating of his heart, I said, "It's all right. You can tell me anything."

Before my eyes a black shape began to pool in his palm, liquid and weightless as if unbound by the laws of physics. He told me about the Shadow Spell, how he and his father had been forced to hide it all their lives. As I watched the spell wrap itself around his fingers, I feared its power, yet I found myself lost in the beauty of its dark movement, unable to look away. An unexpected wave of relief washed over me. He had malevolent magic too. I wasn't alone. I never had been.

He told me everything he and his father had done—how they'd returned the magic that was rightfully mine, taken power from the elder coven members so no one could keep us apart. Luke swore Petra's death had been an accident. A horrible tragedy, not a murder. Alexis had been keeping an eye on her movements as she grew closer to discovering the prophecy. He had only meant to scare her, to keep her from talking. But things could sometimes get out of hand when malevolent magic was involved.

"You know how that is, don't you?" Luke said.

I thought of my father's finger trembling on the trigger of that shiny new pistol. Of course I did. Luke had an explanation for everything, and as I took in the angles of his beautiful face and watched the power he commanded at his fingertips, it was easy to believe him. Or perhaps it was easy to convince myself I did.

Then he told me about the Meteoric Union.

"Remember that night on the rooftop of Hotel Dorado?" he asked, his voice low, like thunder before a storm. "We looked down as darkness fell over this town. That night, we experienced just a fraction of what we're capable of. You felt like a queen that night, didn't you?"

I couldn't deny it. I had practically felt the cool metal of a crown digging into my temples.

"That's because you are a queen, Gwen. You and I are the rightful rulers of everything before us."

He painted our future in beautiful strokes until it sparkled like the sky on a starry night. We were destined for one another. The ritual would unite us forever. We would know nothing but glory and each other's love.

The strange part was that it all made sense. Luke and I were bound by fate; I'd felt it on a molecular level for a long time. Hearing his words only confirmed what my heart already knew: we were meant to burn together, a brilliant meteor in the night sky. I'd seen it in my dreams before we'd even kissed. The power was ours. All we had to do now, he said, was take it.

"Others will never understand us," he told me. "We scare them too much. Our magic will drive them away, one by one, until there is no one left but me and you."

I thought of the way the rest of the coven had looked at me after they'd discovered what I was, of how Valeria had shut the door in my face when I'd pleaded with her to trust me. And I thought of my dad's terse goodbye letter. Luke was right. They had already abandoned me.

It was all too much. I sat up with a start, shock and fear and something like exhilaration mingling in the blood that rushed through my veins.

"Wait!" Luke cried. "Please don't leave."

"I wasn't going to," I replied seriously.

He sighed in relief, letting the Shadow Spell fall away and gripping both my hands in his. He spoke very clearly.

"Please understand—I want the power, but more than anything, I want you . When I learned you were my destiny, it was like I'd come alive for the first time. This world is a lonely place and you, Gwen, are my only salvation. All your life, people have treated you like something ugly, disposable, so you hid yourself away, thinking if no one could see you, no one could hurt you. But you don't have to hide from me. When I look at you, I see splendor and beauty. I see magic." His eyes bored into mine, daring me to doubt him. "So tell me, Gwen Foster: Are you ready to take the power that's rightfully ours and make those fools bow down before us?"

I wondered now what made me say it. Perhaps it was the malevolent magic still buzzing through my veins, or the fact that my dad was probably halfway to Vegas by then. I felt reckless, desperate for something I couldn't name. Was it this power he spoke of? I wasn't sure. I just knew I longed for anything that would guarantee the rest of my life would be entirely different from the first eighteen years—that I would be entirely different. All I had to say was one word to make it so.

I took a breath and answered, "Yes."

He pulled me to him, kissing my face, my hair. His arms pressed so tightly around my body I couldn't breathe, yet I squeezed him back just as hard. But even as he held me, a heavy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Perhaps it wasn't the promise of untold power that made me accept his proposal. Maybe the truth was harder to admit, even to myself.

Luke was offering me a place by his side, a place to belong forever. Maybe that was more valuable to me than all the power in the world.

The sound of a butter knife scraping against china snapped me back to the present. Luke, Alexis, and I ate in their pristine white dining room, the ruins of the chandelier still scattered about the floor to our right. Alexis Nichols had dressed for dinner in an old-fashioned smoking jacket. He'd even taken the time to set out the fine china and silver, but he hadn't bothered to clean up the mound of twisted metal in the foyer. The shattered glass and shards of gold made our family dinner feel surreal, like the perfect table setting had been pasted into some apocalyptic scene.

My body still ached from the impact and Luke and I were covered in cuts and bruises, but we'd survived the wrath of the chandelier just fine. I supposed I should be thankful for that, though part of me longed for the simplicity of a good coma. The events of Valeria's unexpected visit this morning whirled through my mind, making it hard to breathe.

"How are you liking the potpie?" Alexis asked.

Without turning to look at him, I knew the question was directed at me.

"Um, it's great, thanks," I replied, gathering a tiny bite of the damp, salty crust on my fork.

"You've barely touched it. Are you not feeling well? After dinner, I'll make you a nice peppermint tea. Good for digestion."

His words were kind, but there was an edge to his tone, a dark undercurrent meant to threaten me away from any second thoughts that might creep into my head.

"No, that's all right, Mr. Ni—Alexis. I'm fine," I replied.

I poked at a clump of peas on my plate, avoiding his gaze. Silverware clinked; ice tinkled in glasses. The house was so large and quiet that any sound within it felt jarring. I took another bite, hearing my own dry swallow in my ears. As a kid wandering through the forest, I used to look up at this tall white house and wonder what kind of people lived there, imagining the mysterious luxury it must contain. Now I lived inside its ivy-covered walls, and I longed for the peace of the forest. The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. The beautiful image Luke had painted of the Meteoric Union didn't sparkle so brightly after our conversation with Valeria.

He'd mentioned nothing of the rage I felt when I used malevolent magic. Would completing the ritual mean I'd feel that way forever, my heart growing small and hard like the pit of a rotten fruit? I'd already done terrible things, even as my conscience cried out against them. I didn't like to think of what I might do if that little voice was gone. Valeria's words repeated in my head. You will not come back from this. I saw my life stretched out behind me like the muddy waters of a river—all the years I'd spent alone, hiding away in the discomfort of my own skin. Perhaps Valeria was right. Perhaps I would lose myself in binding my soul to Luke's. If so, I wondered bleakly, would that be so bad?

I fixed my eyes on my plate, hoping my thoughts didn't read on my face. I could feel Alexis watching me, his gaze sending a chill down my spine. He had murdered Petra, I was sure of that now. When I met Alexis Nichols, I was taken by how wholesome he'd seemed, how… safe. To me, a devoted father was a phenomenon as rare as the aurora borealis, and I'd been drawn to his light.

Now I saw his dedication to Luke with new eyes. He loved his son, but he also loved the power Luke could offer him, we could offer him. He wouldn't let anyone stand in the way of that power, no matter the consequences.

I couldn't help it. I stole a quick, longing glance at the front door. It was about thirty feet from where I sat. I imagined suddenly rising from my seat, leaping over the twisted chandelier, and dashing to it. What would they do to make me stay? They needed me; there'd be no ritual without me. I'd seen what they did to Valeria. I knew Alexis would strike me with the Shadow Spell at the first sign of trouble, but I was just as certain Luke would not. Even as I spiraled into doubt, I could feel our connection as strongly as ever. He would not harm me.

From my periphery, I felt Luke watching me. I turned away from the door, shifting my focus back to the cooling heaps of chicken potpie as if I'd been daydreaming about something completely inconsequential.

"So," I said, in a convincingly chipper tone, "any dessert tonight, Mr. Nichols? I know you make a great?—"

Luke rose abruptly to his feet, his chair scraping the hardwood with an unsettling screech. Without saying a word, he walked to the front door and opened it wide.

"If you want to leave, Gwen, go ahead," he said, his voice echoing in the vast silence.

I tensed, not sure how to respond.

"I mean it. If you don't want to do this, walk out this door right now, and I won't try to stop you."

There was a sincerity in his eyes that I would have trusted only a day ago. Now I didn't know what to believe. This had to be some kind of trick. But what if it wasn't?

Tentatively, I stood and walked to the door. I felt Alexis's eyes on me, but he didn't stir from his seat at the head of the table. I walked right up to the doorway. Another step and I'd be outside. The sun shone on the grassy front lawn, a breeze tugged at the ends of my hair as if inviting me to freedom. Luke stood beside me, one arm bracing open the heavy wooden door. I was so close to him, I could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell the scent of pine and leather.

What if I left right now? My thoughts raced. Where would I go? My dad was gone, and something inside me knew I couldn't go back to that empty house. There was nothing waiting for me there but stale smoke and misery. Valeria was next door, but she'd never take me in now. Not after I'd struck her down with my magic and watched as Luke tortured her under the Shadow Spell. Even if I made it to one of the other coven members, I was sure Valeria had already told them I was a traitor. They'd turn me away, or perhaps they'd hand me over to Valeria for whatever kind of justice was due to a witch like me. To leave now would be to plunge back into utter loneliness.

I hesitated.

Luke nodded as if reading my mind. "I can see you're beginning to understand. People will always hate us, fear us. If you try to go back to them, it will only bring you more heartbreak. All we have in this world is each other."

I looked at him, tears blurring his face into a watercolor of olive skin and midnight blue.

"Don't you see?" he said, his voice beginning to break. "They never loved you, but I do. I always will."

Even now, even in the midst of all this turmoil, I knew he loved me. I could feel it as surely as I felt my own heart beating. He touched my cheek, and I raised my hand to clasp his. I didn't know what I was doing. I had nothing left inside—no more strength, no more will. I was amazed how so much emptiness could fit inside one human body. My knees buckled. Luke caught me and held me in his arms.

When I blinked my tears away, his eyes came into perfect focus. There was a desperation in them, a madness, but I wasn't afraid. It was a look I recognized, a madness I knew in myself.

"You can't leave me," he said, and the words were not a threat but a plea. "I need you, Gwen. I need you."

He was crying now, his shoulders rising and falling with his pain. The sight of him this way only made my heart ache more. I'd never belonged anywhere until now. As scary as it was, to belong with someone like this was still better than being alone. He held me close as the heavy door fell shut with an echoing bang . I let him embrace me as he wept. I was crying, too, sobs shaking my body. Luke brushed the wetness from my cheeks, and the tenderness in his expression told me he'd mistaken them for tears of joy.

That night, I lay awake in bed by Luke's side, listening to his slow, steady breathing. I stared into the darkness for a long time before sleep finally came to me. When it did, I dreamed I was hurtling through the night sky, my body weightless, my trajectory fixed, the hard earth growing ever nearer below.