For Whom the Spell Tolls (18 page)

“Quill,” I said in a tone that cautioned him not to go there. I didn’t want to go down that road, especially since I couldn’t return the sentiments I knew he was on the cusp of revealing to me. Not only that, but I was also on the verge of losing it. I had so many conflicting thoughts raging through my mind: what-ifs and fears that were beyond stressful. I certainly didn’t need to add this conversation to the mix.

But he shook his head again, as if to let me know he wouldn’t be placated so easily. “I have to get this off my chest, especially now.” He took a deep breath and I imagined he figured we probably wouldn’t have a chance to have this conversation again. I didn’t say anything, but swallowed down the sudden urge to flee. I forcibly held my feet in place. Yes, I wasn’t in the right mental state to have a deep conversation where I would undoubtedly disappoint him, but it looked like I had no other choice.

“I know you’re with Vander,” Quill said gently, almost apologetically. His eyes suddenly appeared downcast, their usual striking amber now the color of autumn maple leaves. “But that doesn’t change the fact that …” he started, bringing his eyes to mine, “I love you, Dulcie.”

My eyes dropped to the ground, and I felt incredibly hollow and dejected because I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. Most of all, I didn’t want to see any pain or disappointment in his eyes. He tilted my chin up and smiled at me.

“I don’t expect you to tell me that you love me too, Dulce, in fact, I don’t expect anything from you.” He smiled more broadly, as if trying to emphasize his sincerity. “This is something that I want to get off my chest because I’ve never told you how much you mean to me, which I now realize was a mistake.” He shrugged. “Well, the truth is, I’ve known it was a mistake for a long time, but I’ve never admitted it. So I’m going to make up for lost opportunities now.” He inhaled deeply before facing me earnestly. “I want you to know that you are the only person who has ever really been there for me.” With a deep breath, he added, “I know we went through some difficult times when you first found out about my involvement with street potions.”

“I never stopped caring about you,” I said quickly, finally comfortable enough to admit to something. Although I didn’t love him the way he wanted me to, I still cared about him as a friend and I always would.

“I know,” he answered, grinning from ear to ear as he tightened his grasp on my hand. “You’ve always been there for me, Dulce, and I want you to know not only how much I appreciate it, but also how much I appreciate you.”

“Thanks, Quill.”

He nodded, but when he didn’t release my hand, I figured there was more on his mind. He smiled again. “I also want you to know that there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t kick myself for not snatching you when I had the chance.”

The time he referred to was so long ago, it didn’t even feel like part of my past anymore. When I worked full-time as a Regulator of the ANC in Splendor, Quillan was my boss, and I had a huge crush on him. That was, of course, before Knight ever wandered into my life, capturing my affections forever. Now that I remembered it, yes, Quill was probably right—if he had shown his feelings for me then, I would have no doubt returned them and then some.

But that time was long past, a fleeting memory that seemed alien to me somehow, like I’d seen it in a movie or something. “How come you never …?” I started.

“Because I knew you would hate me once you found out what I truly was,” he interrupted me, shaking his head as he expelled a pent-up breath. “I couldn’t stomach the idea that you would eventually find out that I was working for your father.” He inhaled again deeply and frowned, his eyes glazing over with what appeared to be pain and frustration. “I just never wanted to see the expression in your eyes if you ever found out who and what I really was.”

Well, he was right about that. If we were romantically involved and I found out about Quill’s ties to my father, I never would have forgiven him. “I guess we were doomed before we ever even started,” I said with a mirthless laugh.

Quill nodded, reflecting the same disheartened expression I gave him. “Yeah, we were.” Then he grew quiet as his eyes took on a faraway gaze, like he was recalling places, people and events now long gone. “Just having you in my life was enough for me then,” he said gently. “Because it had to be.” He nodded and the smile on his lips suggested he was still living in his memories. “Just being able to come by your apartment after work, or bring you dinner when you were sick filled me with so much happiness, Dulcie. Laughing with you about Trey, and working so closely together got me through the reality of the nightmare I was living. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t had your friendship, or if you hadn’t entered my life. Now that I look back on it, you were everything to me, Dulce. You still are.” He sighed, but quickly smirked as if something amusing suddenly occurred to him. He glanced at me with a boyish twinkle in his eyes. “And when I found out you were writing a romance novel about me …”

“Holy Hades,” I said, trying to hide my embarrassed smile with my hand as I shook my head. The book
was
a romance novel about a pirate and his lady. I’d fashioned the character of the pirate after Quill, even using his real name in my word document, with the intention of changing it later. Well, as luck would have it, Quill happened to be over one day and the word document was up on my computer screen, so yep, you guessed it—he saw his name. I turned every shade of red then and even now, my cheeks flushed at the memory because the worst part was that the scene I was writing about him was an explicitly sexual one.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Quill said with a small laugh. “I was honored. I’m still honored to think you ever had romantic feelings for me, that you ever would have considered the things you wrote about … with me.”

“I definitely did, Quill,” I said, shaking my head, mortification still coloring my cheeks. “You don’t even know the half of it,” I finished, smiling up at him as thoughts about my writing career resurfaced in my mind. Yes, once upon a time, before all this shit with the Netherworld and my father hit the fan, I hoped to become a full-time author, and leave my days in law enforcement far behind me. My pirate romance novel didn’t get very far, though, so I ditched it. After putting the kibosh on the Quillan pirate book, I wrote one about Bram that managed to attract the attention of a huge literary agent in New York. Then this mess with my father and the Netherworld fell on my shoulders, and I hadn’t even thought about writing for the last month, at least.

If I survive this attack on my father, I promise to pick up where I left off in my writing career
, I vowed, suddenly relishing my renewed sense of determination.

“No matter what happens tonight,” Quill continued, “I will be with you every step of the way, Dulce, and I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe.”

“Thank you, Quill, that means a lot to me,” I answered, glancing up at him while tears started in my eyes.

“Don’t get all emotional on me now,” Quill said with a chuckle as he wiped the pad of his index finger across my eyelids.

I took a deep breath and clenched my eyes shut, willing the tears back. If there was one thing I hated, it was crying with an audience. “I’m okay,” I said as I managed a quick smile.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Dulcie,” he whispered before pulling me into him, and kissing the top of my head. I wrapped my arms around him and felt his chin on the top of my head as he held me. His crisp, clean scent filled my nostrils and mind with nostalgia. It reminded me of the old days at the ANC, when things were substantially simpler than they were now. That was when the only dilemma that occupied my thoughts was whether it was wise to have a crush on my boss.

How far I’d come.

TEN

I wasn’t sure how Quill and Knight were feeling, but I sensed a cold numbness that welled up from deep within me, an overwhelming vacuum that consumed my entire being. I wondered if someone cut me, would I even feel it? In my newly vegetative state, all worries and fears of my impending future were banished from my head until my brain resembled a barren moonscape. And maybe it was a good thing that I felt emotionless at the prospect of ripping a portal opening into the air in order to confront my father, because who knew what that little task might entail? Death was the quick answer, but whose death? Now that was the clincher. Either way, the moment of reckoning was merely seconds away.

Those final seconds slipped through my fingers like cold honey, slow and painstakingly gluey, as if time itself didn’t want to pass. But pass it did, and I soon found myself preparing to rip the portal for Erica, Rachel and Sam to stage their mock surrender at the Netherworld airport. Amongst them were nine civilians who would play the parts of innocent victims.

“Good luck,” Knight said as he engulfed first Erica, then Rachel and then Sam in a bear hug. Erica just nodded, her meditative mood in complete contrast to her Hawaiian Punch-colored hair. Taking a deep breath, she faced her comrades. She studied them for a few seconds before turning back to us. A gentle wind whipped through her hair until the short strands splayed across her cheeks, looking as delicate as the gossamer threads of a spider web.

“We’re ready,” she said simply. I couldn’t help noticing her usually buoyant personality was definitely turned down a notch or two. In its place was a pensiveness I’d never witnessed in her before, not that I knew her that well but anyhoo … A general somberness remained hanging in the air, which wasn’t surprising, given the enormous question mark hovering over our heads with regard to our impending future.

“Dulce,” Sam said softly as I turned my attention from Erica to my best friend. It was as if I could suddenly see Sam for the first time. Was it because this could be the last time? Her beautiful, brown eyes were wider than usual and her skin appeared whiter, suggesting her nervousness. Her brown hair was pulled off her face in a low ponytail and she was wearing khaki pants and brown polo shirt. She looked more like a model for a Gap ad than a witch confronting an unknown future. 

“You’re going to be just fine, Sam,” I said softly, grasping her arms. “No matter what happens, you just play dumb, okay? As far as you know, you’re surrendering to my father and that’s it.”

She nodded and I could see wet pools filling her eyes. “I’m not worried about me, Dulcie.”

“Don’t worry about me either,” I insisted, with a smile that hopefully conveyed a sense of calm and control. “I always come out on top; you know that,” I finished jokingly.

Sam smiled and a soft, sad laugh escaped her lips. But only seconds later, her lower lip began to tremble as the tears that were welling in her eyes only moments earlier overflowed and began coursing down her cheeks, soaking into her collar. I pulled her forward and wrapped my arms around her as she rested her cheek against my head because I was so damn short.

“You really do always come out on top,” she said with another bittersweet laugh. But the laugh was cut short by a sob.

“Don’t cry, Sam,” I whispered when her body began to shake slightly. “Everything is going to be fine, and in just a few hours’ time, we’ll all be reunited again like one big happy family. Except my asshole father will be in custody or, better yet, dead.” Obviously, I had no idea what I was talking about and a few hours sounded so optimistic as to be ridiculous, but I wasn’t good when it came to soothing people, so what else could I do?

Sam wiped her sleeve across her eyes, drying her tears before smiling again, her lower lip still trembling. “Good luck, Dulce, and make sure you keep those two at your side the entire time,” she motioned to Quill and Knight who were standing behind us.

“We’ll be like her shadows,” Quill said with a quick smile as he approached Sam and hugged her, whispering in her ear, “You’ll be fine.”

“Whatever happens with the rest of us,” Knight started, facing Sam, his expression serious. “You, MJ and Erica just play out the whole surrender thing; you got it?”

Sam nodded and I took a deep breath, feeling some relief at Knight’s words. It did sound promising that Sam, Rachel, Erica and their posse could just play at surrendering to Melchior’s forces if the rest of us failed in our attempts; but I couldn’t help worrying that my father would eventually realize it was feigned. As soon as he put together that all three attacks happened within minutes of one another, he’d know what we were up to. But, since that thought only managed to depress me, I decided to abandon it. After all, wasn’t it better to hope for the best, even if the best meant being blissfully ignorant?

“You take care of her,” Sam said to Knight as she inclined her head in my direction.

“I will guard her with my life,” Knight answered sternly, his eyes reinforcing the statement.

“Girl, you take care of yourself,” Dia piped up. She threw her arms around Sam and then followed suit with Erica and Rachel, who stood just behind her. After tears were shed and good-byes were exchanged by all, I held the portal ripper in my hand and followed Bram’s directions. As I pulled the device toward me, the air sliced open beneath my fingertips. It looked like I’d ripped clear through one landscape, revealing another. In a manner of speaking, that was exactly what happened. The ripper silently crossed the line between this dimension and the next, blasting a gust of frigid air against my skin in the process.