But it wasn’t safe. As I laid there, I thought about last night’s family meeting. It certainly hadn’t gone how I expected.
I’d gotten back from the Unseelie Court and found everyone gathered in the living room. Finn, Damon, Danny, Lyari, Emma, and Gil. It was also the order they sat in, which was clearly by design—even though they were on opposite ends of the couch, tension thrummed between the werewolf and the vampire. The only ones absent were Nym and Matthew. The former still hadn’t come out of his room, and the latter could be heard from a baby monitor on the coffee table.
This time, as I communicated with my family, I kept more details to myself. I told them about the memories I had unburied, but said nothing about the monsters I’d battled nightly in my head to get to them. I also skimmed over the parts involving the changes in my abilities as a child, or what had happened to Mom and Dad as a result. Without mentioning Jacob Goldmann or the identical brands on our shoulders, I shared my suspicions about the connection between the creature who’d tried to take me as a child and the one who’d secured me through Belanor now, seventeen years later. I forced myself to meet Damon’s gaze as I spoke of Matthew and the potential danger he was in.
Once I was finished, everyone was quiet. Worried my family had sensed all the holes in my story, I tried to prepare for questions they might ask.
To my surprise, Damon had been the one to speak first. If we run, we won’t stop running, he said.
If you run, you live, I had countered, the words tinged with desperation.
My brother gave me a soft smile, showing a glimpse of the boy he’d once been, full of ideals and certainty. Would we, though?
The others nodded or voiced their agreement, which took me by surprise, as well. Sadly, it had never occurred to me they would feel the same way as I did about the home we’d built together. That alone seemed worth fighting for. Realizing that I couldn’t very well force everyone to do what I wanted, and that we truly were staying here, I squashed my fear beneath the weight of resolve.
Fine, I’d told them past the lump of guilt in my throat. It was because of me that we were in danger and even having this discussion. I swallowed and went on, sounding far calmer than I felt. But we’re taking extra precautions. Don’t try to argue with me on this, please. First, I want you all to share your locations with each other. Second, check-ins. Everyone in the group chat needs to send the all-clear. I’m talking hourly, people. Next, self-defense. Anyone who lives here needs to know how to protect themselves. Lyari, this is your time to shine…
Sounds drifted from the kitchen. The memory faded, and I glanced at the alarm clock. It was only eight a.m. Deciding that I’d earned a little laziness, I retrieved Moby Dick from the nightstand. As I began to read, I saw a flash of the book in someone else’s hands. Someone with silver hair and a smirk that made you think about bedrooms and things that happened in the dark. I shook my head as if I could physically banish the memory. With effort, I focused on the tiny print in front of me, reading aloud in a drowsy murmur, “‘Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form…’”
My attention span didn’t allow me to stay that way long. An hour later, I put the book down and went into the bathroom. Hello curled in the spot I’d been lying and promptly fell back asleep. Spoiled little beast.
An empty loft greeted me when I finally emerged from my room. I stopped in the middle of the space and turned in a circle, realizing that I was alone. The others had really gone on with their lives as usual, despite the warning I’d given them. Damon would be at work, Matthew at daycare, and Finn was either at Bea’s or on a hunt. Last night, Emma had mentioned going to Denver for some shopping, so that explained her absence. Cyrus’s truck was gone, as well. Nym and Lyari’s bedrooms were unoccupied, and I knew the former was probably with Emma. Lyari, well, who knew what she did in her spare time? Probably off frightening small children or hacking at a tree with her sword.
Maybe she’d sent a text while I was sleeping. Realizing that I’d forgotten my phone on the coffee table last night, I padded over to it. The screen brightened as soon as I picked it up. There were two voicemails waiting, the first from Emma and the second from an unknown number. Pressing PLAY on the most recent one, I lodged my phone between my ear and shoulder and walked to the refrigerator.
A familiar voice rumbled through the speaker, and my stomach dropped at the sound of it. I’d heard this voice a thousand times, but usually it was ordering black coffee and a breakfast sandwich. “I have a message for Fortuna Sworn. Miss Sworn, this is Sheriff O’Connell,” he said as if we hadn’t seen each other nearly every morning for the past seven years. “I need to touch base with you at your earliest convenience. If you could come down to the station, that would be great. You can reach me at this number.”
Damn it. I lowered the phone while Sheriff O’Connell was still reciting his contact information. I hadn’t figured out how I was going to explain my sudden disappearance from the hospital. I’d gone with a kidnapping story when those goblins had snatched me off the mountain, and claiming to be kidnapped twice probably wouldn’t go over well. Frowning, I poured milk and cereal into a bowl, fetched a spoon, and slid onto a barstool. As I began to eat, I stared at the wall and mentally flipped through potential lies I could give the sheriff. I also listened to Emma’s voicemail in the meantime.
She’d just finished when Hello twined around my ankles, yowling as if she hadn’t been fed in days. Forgetting Sheriff O’Connell, I raised my eyebrows at her. “I know for a fact you had breakfast. Emma told me so, and I trust her more than you.”
Hello darted away, complaining as she went. Chewing loudly, I looked around and found myself unsettled by the stillness. I’d been alone often since returning from the Seelie Court, but something felt different about today. I couldn’t shake a sense of…. expectancy. Like I was waiting for someone. Maybe I had made plans the last time I was drunk. Or, more likely, I’d gotten so used to chaos that part of me was always preparing for it.
It was time for the question. The one I asked myself during these rare stretches of quiet and peace. Time that I’d learned to seize whenever possible. What do I want to do next?
I could head to Adam’s and do some more training with the sword, or finally face Bea, or go on a run. As I kept considering the options, my gaze fell on a sad-looking fern resting on the window sill over the sink. Damon had been so distracted by Matthew and Danny lately that, for the first time in his life, he’d neglected his precious plants.
Seeing how the leaves had begun to turn brown, a new idea formed in my head. Deciding to follow the impulse, I hurried into my room to get dressed. Once I was back in the main space, I paused long enough to don a coat, hat, and boots. The keys were hanging on the hook, and I snatched them up with a jangling sound. Then I went down the stairs, got in my van, and drove into town.
After a trip to the gardening store, I returned to a still-empty homestead. Humming a song that had been playing on the radio, I carried two paper bags inside, heavy with the plants and supplies I’d bought. My face tingled from the cold.
With music blaring from my phone, I bustled around the kitchen. I had just covered the counter with everything I’d need when Hello jumped onto one of the stools. She leaned toward me so eagerly that she almost fell, and I scratched her chin absently, surveying the rows of pots I’d set out. The kitten began to purr, her eyes squeezing shut with pleasure. I tapped her nose and pulled away to pour soil into one of the pots. Once it was full, I dug my first tiny hole, where the seeds would hopefully become more than an idea in my head.