Salem's Revenge Complete Boxed Set (97 page)

He stops again, grabbing my shoulder, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “The answer is no,” he says. “I didn’t purposely transfer the curse to Laney. I was trying to push it into Xave, in case there was still life in him. Somehow she got it. I don’t—I don’t know.” He bites his bottom lip and turns his head to fight off the tears. He’s not lying. He knows the sacrifice Laney made so that we can be together.

We can’t waste one second of it—not anymore.

I pull him into a hug and say, “I know, Dad. I know.” He hugs me back and the warmth I feel makes me realize that my entire life I haven’t even known the power of what I was missing:

A father’s love.

Months later

Laney,

I miss you. I miss you every day. I think I’ve finally realized that time marches on regardless of our actions, our desires, our deaths, or our lives. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe the inevitability of time is a good thing, one of the few things we can count on, don’t you think?

Have you heard about the new alliances? According to the Reaper’s scouts, new pacts between humans and magic-born have been popping up all across the country, forging a new way forward, the only way that’s worked in defeating those who would threaten our survival.

There are no witch hunters here anymore. I mean, Floss and her gang are still around, but they call themselves hunters of evil, whether in the form of humans or magic-born. We’re still fighting for our lives each and every day, but we’re not the same people we were even a few months ago. We’re better, stronger. Because of both our losses and our victories. Is that how you feel?

When Salem’s Revenge hit, I lost my two best friends. Finding Xave was like a miracle in the same way losing Beth was a tragedy, even if he was different than what I was expecting. He might’ve changed in a lot of ways, but not in the important ones. Not in the ones that mattered to me. To me, he was still Xave, even if it took me a while to realize it. Although painful, his ending was poetic in a lot of ways. He was always my defender, my strength, my brother. And though we were orphans together, he didn’t die one, and in his last breaths he tried to make sure I wasn’t an orphan either, even if that didn’t work out the way we planned. No, you’re the one who gave me a father, even if I lost part of my heart in the process.

While I’m writing you this letter, my dad and Rain are sitting nearby, talking. My sister and I share Martin’s time now, enjoying our daily walks, catching up on the years we’ve lost. Sometimes the three of us go together, and now we laugh more than we cry. I wish you were a part of it.

Love always,

Rhett

P.S. Bil and Huckle are champs for taking turns delivering these letters. But don’t tell them I said that or they may get big heads.

P.P.S. I don’t want to jinx anything or get either of our hopes up, but the Claires and my dad have been working on possible solutions to the curse. They say it’s a one in a million chance, but hey, someone has to win the lottery, right?

~~~

Rhett!

Your letter made me smile and cry at the same time. I had to hide my face from Bil so he wouldn’t think I’m becoming soft. Both he and Huckle have been pretty awesome, I have to admit. They’re better friends than I could possibly ask for.

I don’t think I’m as comfortable with time as you are. I wish it would just stop until we could figure out a way to get rid of this damn curse. Surely Hex can come up with something even if the Claires and your dad can’t :) I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I miss you too. More than anything.

Word of the new alliances has been reaching our little settlement too. We’re all hopeful a broader peace can eventually be achieved. I’m tired of hearing about people dying because of rogue humans and magic-born.

I’m glad you’ve achieved peace with your family. That’s all I ever wanted for you. It’s my own selfishness that wants more, but maybe that’s not our fate.

I’ve been keeping busy too. I don’t know why, but I’ve found a measure of solace in helping to deliver newborn babies. The local Claires don’t need me for the job, but I need them, as if just being close to Trish’s Children can ease the insistent pain of her passing. Chloe—who’s fully recovered from saving my life—helps, too, because I think we both need each other more than we realize.

You’d be proud of me, Rhett. I also encourage the human women to allow the Claires to touch them and assist with their deliveries. I guess we’ve both come a long way. Although we’ve made great strides in easing the strife between the groups, there are still old fears and unhealed wounds. With each day the distance between us seems to lessen, if only by the tiniest of degrees. You’re right—we’re getting stronger each and every day.

Yours,

Laney

P.S. I’ll tell our local group of Claires what you said about a solution to the curse, maybe they’ll have some ideas.

~~~

Laney,

Sorry it’s been so long. Both Bil and I are crazy busy, and he hasn’t been ready to make the journey until now. With the threat against us dwindling, we’ve been working with the magic-born to reestablish communication with the rest of the world. This was a global attack. Although most countries have managed to get through the worst of it via peaceful treaties with the magic-born, we have all suffered enormous losses. Billions of souls lost. And the situation in some countries is still unknown, with little information, if any, forthcoming. It will take a united world effort to overcome the odds stacked against us. But we will do it. I doubt a lot of things, but not that.

We’re keeping busy, all of us. Pitching in where we can. Working with other leaders across the region to restore order and establish the society we all took for granted. It will take decades, if not centuries to fully recover.

Mr. Jackson has assumed the lead in the Northeast, and so far his results have been nothing short of miraculous. As far as I know, he hasn’t used magic for any of it, not raising a single corpse from the dead. But, of course, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s squirrelled a Reanimate army away somewhere, just in case.

I’m glad you’ve found a place you feel comfortable helping…but babies? Really? I don’t know, I guess I never thought of you as the nurturing type. *ducks to avoid being hit* Am I wrong?

God, I miss you. I try not to stop moving for a single second in the day, because then the pain I feel can’t catch up to me. Call me a wimp, but that’s how I feel.

Love always,

Rhett

P.S. The Claires don’t think the curse can be removed, but my dad isn’t giving up. Sorry I don’t have better news.

~~~

Rhett!

You’re such a softy. (Notice how I didn’t call you ‘wimp’ like you requested.) I’ll try to throw some of my tough-as-nails attitude your way, if that helps? The truth is, I’m not feeling very strong either these days. Most of the time I feel like I’m sleepwalking through the day. Maybe we gave each other strength? If so, where can we get it now? I wish there was a magic spell for a broken heart.

Congratulations on everything you and the others have achieved. I’m even proud of Mr. Jackson, as much as it hurts to write that. You guys make a great team. Remember all the times I told you to stop being so freaking chivalrous? I’m glad you ignored me. I love you for who you are.

The Claires here don’t have an answer for the curse either. They ran a few magical tests on me, but from what they can tell, the curse was so well-constructed that it would take someone far more powerful than them to remove it. I’m losing hope.

And for the record, I am so NOT nurturing. Delivering babies is more like catching a football than anything else. Plus I get to cut the cord, which is cool in a gross sort of way.

Wish I could see you,

Laney

~~~

Laney

When Bil arrives, the mother is screaming, pushing through the pain to bring her baby into the world. When I first encouraged him to come to a birth, Bil was reluctant. Looking extremely uncomfortable, he told me “women stuff” wasn’t really his thing, which made me crack up. He can be such a guy sometimes. But when I explained to him that the father of the unborn child would only allow the Claires to help with the birth if a Resistor was present, he agreed immediately. I think Bil will keep on changing in a lot of ways, continuing to surprise me again and again.

He stands to the side, wide-eyed and looking more scared than if he was facing a firing squad. I shoot him a quick, grateful smile, but then refocus on the mother, who is breathing in short bursts, preparing for the next push. Her night-dark skin is sheened with sweat. Two Claires flank her, issuing commands without so much as moving their lips.

Now
, one says in our heads, so we can all hear.
Push!

She does and I feel myself pushing along with her, deep in my gut, trying to will the child out. The head comes first, wet and bloody and beautiful, then the torso, and finally its tiny legs, sprawling into my waiting arms, where I wrap it in a warm towel. A girl, already crying and trying to open her sleepy eyelids.

“She’s beautiful,” Chloe murmurs, her usual response, her bright eyes filled with wonder.

And as usual, I reply, “She’s perfect,” because, of course, all babies are.

After cutting the umbilical cord, I use a wet towel to clean off her skin, which is a rich, smooth, perfect brown, the precise mixture of her pale Caucasian father and dark African-American mother. I’m about to hand the child to her mother, when one of the Claires stops me, resting a hand on my shoulder.

Her eyes are filled with stars and awe. “I know her. I know this soul.”

“Who is she?” I ask.

“Mother,” the Claire says.

My own eyes widen as I look upon the bundle of perfection in my arms. “Oh Trish,” I say, lifting the baby closer to my face. Her eyes are fully opened now, as brown as liquid soil, bigger than the full moon rising high over our heads. And I see her. Like a window opened to let in a cool breeze, I
See
the real her through her eyes, which shimmer in the starlight.

I see her soul and

it's beautiful.

No.

Beyond beautiful. Perfection brought to life. Goodness and light and the future and the past.

Trish reaches for my face with a tiny hand, a single finger outstretched.

Her finger is glowing with a bright white light I haven’t seen in months, since she led Rhett and I back together again. When she touches my cheek, I feel her power run through all of me, from my feet to my heart to the tips of my ears to the very marrow of my bones. Stitching broken parts back together. Cleansing the dirty edges of my soul.

And when she pulls away, I feel a great darkness follow her touch, leaving me gasping and laughing and…

Yes.

Believing.

~~~

Rhett

This time, there’s someone with Bil as he approaches the settlement. Normally it’s just him—he prefers to travel alone.

I squint into the fading daylight, trying to make out his companion. It’s not Huckle, who would be about a head taller than Bil. A dying beam of sunlight reflects off his companion, displaying long golden hair and a devil-may-care smile that once took my world and flipped it upside down.

But no. I can’t. Even as Hex bounds off the porch and charges for Laney, my feet are glued to the ground. As much as I want to run to her, to sweep her into a hug and squeeze her against me, I won’t—not when it will hurt her. Already she’s too close, hiding the pain she surely feels behind a carefree mask.

And yet she keeps coming. I wave her away, emotion rushing up my throat. Tears pool in my eyes. This is our fate. Always so close but impossibly far away.

If she won’t stop coming, I’ll run as fast as I can. It doesn’t matter where I go, only that it’s not near her. I jump off the porch and take off, blinking away tears.

Laney shouts something but I can’t make out her words. It doesn’t matter what she has to say; I can’t hurt her again. And then Hex is there, in front of me, barking his head off and blocking my path. He jumps up and paws at my stomach.

Laney’s shouts are getting nearer and I try to push past my dog, but his efforts to block me become more frantic, as if he’s determined to trip me up rather than let me escape. “Hex, sit!” I say. “Stay!”

Of course, he doesn’t listen, just continues to bark and leap in front of me when I try to move. Desperate, I whip my head around to find Laney jogging toward me, so close now—too close. A deadly nearness. I start to wave her away again, but then I realize something:

She’s still smiling.

Although she is one of the toughest people I know, and her pain tolerance is impressively high, not even she’s been able to disguise the agony she feels when we’re in close proximity.

Something resonates deep inside me, like a plucked bowstring, vibrating with truth and realization. All breath leaves me and my knees lock and it’s all I can do to just stand still as Hurricane Laney rushes toward me with the power of a gale force wind.