Their love had always been an inspiration to me. I wanted what they had more than anything, which probably explained my rush to marry my ex. Not the biggest mistake of my life, but damned close.
I ran to them and threw my arms around both their necks at the same time. Like the others, they leaned into my hug but didn’t hug me back.
“Cariña.” Dad turned and kissed my cheek almost cautiously. “Dios mio, are you okay?”
Leaning back to get a good look at them, I nodded. “I am so much more than okay.”
“How did you . . . when did you wake up?” Papi asked.
“I haven’t. Have you seen the vines?”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Exactly. This all feels so real.”
“Cariña.” Dad’s silver brows slid together. “I think we should talk.”
“Totally. But right now”—I gestured to Roane—“I’m going to tear this man’s clothes off. With my teeth. Then we’ll do breakfast. How’s that?”
My younger and only slightly more fit Papi cast a withering glare in Roane’s direction.
He held up his hands in surrender. “You know I wouldn’t.”
“What?” I turned to him with a pout. “You won’t dip your cookie in my cream?”
Roane pinched the bridge of his nose, but there was a distinct smile behind his hand.
Annette ran up to the landing, crunching the poor vines on her way. She started to put a hand on my arm but stopped herself. “Deph, think about it. You live in a magic house haunted by your dead grandparents.”
A sickly kind of horror threatened to blossom in my chest. I tamped it down. No way. “You don’t get it. I was floating on air when I woke up. Floating. On air. My hair was swirling around me like a leviathan. And then there’s the vine thing. They move when I move.” I held out my hand and willed a vine into my palm.
One rose off the banister and curled around my fingers as soft as silk.
“See?” Although I was starting to doubt the dream theory despite all the evidence supporting it.
“Magic,” she said as though she was sorry she had to. But even she was impressed. I could tell. Her gaze held as much fascination as understanding. “Watch.” She lifted a hand to my arm.
A vine rose up and curled around it, tucking its tip underneath her hand.
She jerked back and held her hand open for me to see. A line of blood plumped along her palm.
I grabbed her hand. “What happened?”
“He’s protecting you. He’s been protecting you this whole time.”
A quick glance at my dads told me she was right. They waited, giving me a moment to let it sink in. The horror I’d tamped down ricocheted with a vengeance. It exploded in my chest and caught fire to my skin. I dared a quick glance at Roane. Heat burst through me, and I could practically see the blush sliding up my neck and over my cheeks. I worried it would be permanent.
“He wouldn’t let us near you while you were . . . resting.” The fact that she spoke softly, as though I was a child, didn’t help.
“Resting? I was floating for fuck’s sake.”
“You were in some kind of suspended state,” Papi said. “Like a stasis.”
“For how long?” Wary to hear the answer, I asked anyway.
“We can talk about that later,” Annette said. “The important thing right now is—”
“How long?” I pushed.
She pursed her lips, glancing at the others as if she didn’t quite know what to do, then said softly, “Almost six months.”
What the ever-loving fuck?
My fingers tightened around the banister, and vines curled around them as if they were comforting me. If not for the support of the railing, my knees would surely have buckled.
“After you brought your grandmother out of the veil, you passed out,” Annette added.
“For six months?” I looked at her through blurred vision. I’d come to the witch game late in life. At forty-four, I’d learned about powers I never knew I had. I’d learned I was a source, a charmling, one of only three in the entire world, and that others wanted to kill me to steal the immense power I had lying just beneath the surface.
When we’d finally coaxed the dormant powers forward, they’d almost killed me. And ever since, whenever I did a spell that required a lot of energy, I passed out. It’d happened more than once in those first few days, but I’d only been out a couple of hours at most.
Then I’d accidentally pulled my deceased grandmother out of the veil and back onto this plane. That took a lot more energy than I was ready to expel. But holy hell, six months? How could anyone sleep for six months? Especially without medical supervision? I had terrific bladder control, but damn.
“Ruthie said it must’ve been too much on your system.” The chief’s voice carried up the stairs. “You needed time to recuperate.”
Dad reached out to me then pulled back.
I took his hand, and the vines that had been holding mine retreated to allow room for his.
“It was too much on your body, cariña.” He squeezed my fingers lightly. “Your grandmother didn’t even know a witch could pull someone out of the veil. That it was even possible.”
Speaking of grandmothers, where was Ruthie?
Before I could ask, Papi said, “You are remarkable.”
“You are,” Annette agreed, looking around. “Percy, may I?”
The vines retreated instantly, and then Annette did something that would’ve proven this a dream if it weren’t—she rushed forward and hugged me.
Still in shock, I hugged her back. “You’ve embraced the darkness?”
“Darkness?” A few inches shorter than my five-five, she pulled back and looked up.
“Hugging.”
She laughed through a soft sob and hugged me again. My dads joined her, and we stood in each other’s embrace for a solid minute. Partly because it felt wonderful and nourishing and reassuring, and partly because I was too humiliated to ever face Roane Wildes again. Mostly because I was too humiliated to ever face Roane Wildes again.
“Let’s get you dressed,” Annette said after we disentangled ourselves.
It was only then that I realized the gauze gown I wore was a tad see-through. Great. My face caught fire as I looked back at Roane, who’s expression was full of sympathy. Humiliation stung the backs of my eyes.
“The answer is yes.” His voice, smooth and deep, sent a ripple of heat straight to my core.
“Yes?”
He graced me with a lopsided grin. “The cherry stem.”
And my mortification was complete.
“I’ll demonstrate whenever you’re ready.” To the warning glares he received from my dads in response, he added, “On an actual cherry stem. Naturally.”
Two
Q: How many witches does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Into what?
I sat on my bed with Annette, our legs tucked under us as we discussed my recent sabbatical. “How is this even possible?”
“Deph, it was like you were trapped in a fairy tale.” Excitement brimmed not just in her face but across her whole body, turning her into the proverbial kid in the candy store. “I tried to convince Roane to kiss you to wake you up, but he didn’t want his throat slit.”