Zephyr sat in front of the piano, his fingers floating effortlessly along the keys, a soothing yet despairing cadence drifting and swelling into the large room.
Just on the other side of the wall behind Zephyr, Julian stood in the foyer with Jonah St. Christopher. The two spoke low, just under the seams of the melody, facing the window and peering out into a barren stretch of trees, waiting for Fallon’s return. It was almost the witching hour, and she refused to leave Ocean at the morgue until she found answers.
And I was sitting alone, a Heathen without his keeper.
A man without his woman.
Ocean’s death served as a reminder that I did care for these people in Weeping Hollow. Having been sidetracked, destroying the Shadows had become my sole goal since I was struck with the realization that Adora could be the next victim. The thought trailed a braid of worry and anxiety across my flesh.
She was a part of me. If not half my soul, then in my blood.
A tangible thing you could see, feel, taste, hold.
Something concrete. Something to believe in.
I wondered if she felt it as well, ifAdorawas the name for all the times I felt something was missing. Not Heathen.
I looked up from my sketchpad as Beck walked across the grand room, stepping over Jolie and Josephine, who happened to be his next keeper after her mother died. Turns out his keeper was the Shadows’ first victim, and now the responsibilities fell on a fifteen-year-old girl in mourning. Beck approached Jonah and Julian in the entryway.
“She’ll make it,” Julian insisted, more for himself.
Not seconds later, Julian was at the door, unlocking it and standing in the doorway, cold winds barging inside.
Fallon, who was bundled up in a winter jacket and a scarf, entered the room with a white cat in tow, her cheeks pinched from the cold.
“It’s so cold out there,” she murmured, then, once Julian closed the door behind her, they greeted each other with a chaste kiss. A quick one that ended as soon as it started as the couple never gave way to a public display of affection for long. The two kept their love behind closed doors, discreet, only theirs and theirs alone, with no desire to share it with anyone else.
Adora and I never had this level of control. There was a thirst between us that one would abandon themselves to. It didn’t matter whether we wanted to strangle, please, or hold each other, as long as we were touching each other. A desperate hunger indifferent to our numbered days, borrowed hours, and stolen seconds. Our passion never had time on its side, but we didn’t need it. We had punctual lips, mindless hearts, and an island without clocks.
As Fallon pulled back from Julian, she found me in the foyer.
I quickly looked away, returning to my sketchpad and stared into the same feline eyes that I’d felt slip over me whenever she was near. With each passing second, I longed to see her, but I knew I would give in and could not resist the urge to take her into my arms. My actions would only harm her.
Then an envelope was slipped across my drawing and over Adora’s lips.
Fallon was standing over me. “I was told to give this to you.”
There was no name on the envelope but as soon as my fingers touched it, the memory imprinted into the paper let me know it was from Adora.
Julian, Beck, and Zephyr glared at me.
I ignored them and broke the flap enclosure’s seal.
To my beloved black sea,
It was full dark when I snuck out of the castle to meet you.
You wore those ripped black jeans and your new friend’s boots, with the sleet from the forest still in the grooves. You moved awkwardly in your new clothes because you were still creating yourself, like one of your drawings.
We drank vanilla cola from glass bottles and listened to a song about how fast the night changes, over and over. Two adults frolicking as youths, French kissing in secret to hide from winter and distract ourselves from the town crumbling around us. The way we touched each other was equally punishing and artful, painting a world where we could be together on each other’s skin.
For a while, we pretended.
For a while, I was the kind of woman you could give your heart to, and you weren’t the lost, forbidden Heathen. I suppose it never really mattered, anyway.
Still, slowly, and suddenly,I fell in love with you.
I didn’t realize how far I had fallen until I came up for air, and you weren’t there. But you made it so easy to love you, Stone Danvers.
