The same one that I wore on my own back.
In that instant, I became aware of two facts about Jacob Goldmann.
The first was that Jacob had met Belanor.
The second fact was what made my heart feel like an avalanche. Because there was only one reason Belanor would put that symbol on him. I’d been tortured because of it. Gil had lost his life for it. Belanor needed one final ingredient to complete the spell he was so obsessed with.
“You’re a Nightmare,” I breathed.
“The binding spell is gone,” Jacob said back with equal astonishment. I watched the surprise in his eyes give way to horror.
How did he know that? Frowning, my eyes went to the neckline of his sweater. It was lopsided and stretched. I realized what must’ve happened—when I’d pulled it down, my knuckles had brushed against Jacob’s bare skin. However well-guarded I thought I was, he’d gotten a read on me.
Using my distraction to his advantage, Jacob shoved past and rushed down the hallway. I recovered quickly and followed him, pausing on the threshold of the bedroom he’d gone into. A single look told me it was exactly like the rest of the house—colorless and barren. Jacob slid a door open, revealing a closet, and he bent to retrieve something.
“How did you escape Belanor?” I asked bluntly.
At the sound of that name, the other Nightmare faltered. With his back to me, my gaze returned to that brand. It was out of sight, hidden beneath his sweater again. I could still see it, though, imprinted on my mind as permanently as the one on my shoulder.
Then Jacob straightened, seeming to reach some inner decision.
“You have to go.” He stood and threw a suitcase on the bed. It looked like an antique from the 20s with its hard sides and striped tweed. Jacob yanked dresser drawers open and started shoving clothes into it. Apparently, now that I’d caught him, he’d decided there was enough time to pack before he undoubtedly fled again.
“Fine, yes, I’ll go,” I told him, a frantic edge in my voice. “I just want to know who’s doing this. That’s not too much to ask, is it? Maybe it’ll help my chances of survival.”
Jacob kept packing. “Only way to survive is run.”
I watched him with clenched fists, fighting the childish urge to yank every piece of clothing out of that suitcase. What did all of this mean, exactly? How much did Jacob know about Belanor’s master? Was it just a coincidence that our paths had crossed when I was a child?
Suddenly the ferry was beneath my feet and I saw that red door again, coming toward us in the cold night. I heard my father’s voice, half-pleading, as mine was now. There has to be a way to stop it. Here you are, standing in front of us.
It felt like a flare brightened in my head and released a hiss of sparks. I sucked in a breath, rapidly filling in more parts of the story as bursts of comprehension went off.
I’d never understood what Dad had meant by that last part. I thought the words were directed at Tamar, the witch, but Matthew Sworn had been talking to Jacob, the Nightmare. Her power grows by the day, he’d told them. That night, I had sensed his fear and misunderstood the cause of it.
My parents hadn’t been scared of me. They’d been scared for me.
I didn’t believe in coincidences, and there were too many happening here. I could finally see the truth. The mysterious figure that had been after me as a child and the one now controlling Belanor—they were one and the same. He’d gotten his mark on Jacob, but failed at finishing the spell on him.
Then I’d come along.
My parents had known there was someone searching for our kind. Searching for a Nightmare powerful enough to survive dark magic. Somehow, Dad had also learned that another Nightmare escaped. He’d found Jacob Goldmann and his wife and asked for their help.
The binding spell had been their solution. It was probably how Jacob escaped his fate and also how he’d remained hidden so many years from hunters, magic, and every other thing that went bump in the night.
Then I remembered Tamar’s response to my dad, and I knew I was right. The spell is painful for the one it’s being performed on. Not only that, but being bound in magic that dark changes you. He can attest to it better than anyone.
She’d looked at Jacob, a hint of guilt in her eyes.
All of this went through my head within seconds. Jacob was nearly finished packing now, every piece of clothing pulled off its hanger or removed from the chests. No wonder he was so consumed by fear—just as mine had been, his abilities were restrained and tucked away. He was a sitting duck to anyone that came after him, much less Belanor.
“Tell me who’s after us,” I demanded, instinctively glancing toward every window. The world looked calm. Nothing peered back through the glass. “What does the brand mean?”
Jacob shoved the suitcase clasps into place with his thumbs and picked it up by its long handle. I didn’t move out of his way, but he darted around me, speaking frantically as he went. “It’s his mark. It’s the key. He just needs to find a Nightmare strong enough to withstand the spell. Your power is like a fucking beacon—you’ve probably led him right to me. Now I understand why your father was so desperate.”
Another thread fit into place, lending the image more clarity. If power was like a beacon to the person that was after us, no wonder my parents had gone into such a panic after I made that tree appear.
A hard, tight knot that had been living in my chest since seeing that memory began to loosen. They weren’t scared of me, I thought again. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time. The memory of my parents was beautifully, fully intact, and I’d probably need a few more reminders for that to really sink in.
“At least tell me what the spell is supposed to do,” I blurted, following Jacob down the hall again. “We have time. Whatever you think is coming, I can take it. I can protect you. Hunters aren’t—”
“You think our kind has been pushed to the brink of extinction because of hunters?” Snatching a hat off one of the hooks, Jacob uttered a short, panicked laugh. He jammed the hat on his head and removed his keys off a hook, too. They jangled and flashed in his hand as he turned.
“Enough with the dramatics,” I snapped. Jacob threw the front door open and rushed headlong into the afternoon. I ran after him. “Just stop for one goddamn second and tell me what’s going on!”
He unlocked the car manually and opened the back door to toss his suitcase in. I hovered next to him, standing on the paved driveway. I’d glimpsed Finn standing on the lawn, his posture stiff and alert, but I kept my focus on Jacob. I didn’t want to make an enemy of him, not when his cooperation was so important.
Just as he tried to close the driver’s side door, I rushed forward and grabbed the edge, stopping him.
“Please,” I begged, not giving a shit about my pride, for once. “Did you know that my parents died right after we went to you and Tamar? I was eight years old. My brother and I grew up with humans who knew nothing about our kind or the shadow world. There’s so much I don’t know. All I’m asking for is an hour of your time, please.”
I finally stopped rambling and waited for his response. My pulse thudded in my throat as I stood there, still holding the door in a white-knuckled grip. Jacob still wouldn’t look at me; he kept his gaze on the steering wheel. There was a long, long pause, and the longer it went, the more I began to hope. It felt like something inside of me was balancing on its tiptoes, holding its breath.