But I feel wrong. I’m shattered, like the glass I stand on. I’m supposed to be Jayla’s best friend, my family’s protector. But my sister hates me, and I’m scared our relationship won’t survive this. Jayla may never understand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOEmma BaldwinMANHATTAN, 2104
Glass shimmers like ice as my shaky hands pick up shards from the burgundy carpet. Each one is a painful reminder of our fight with Jayla. Malcolm’s silence worries me as glass tinkles in my palm. Our lives depend on our love and trust, so I can’t have him being shaken by what Jayla said. Malcolm picks up the twisted stems of broken lilies and tosses them into a small trash can. His eyes are full, as if a storm has raged inside him ever since his twin sister left. But instead of letting the tears flow, he sits at a desk and writes.
My heart aches for him. I want to hold him and comfort him, but his body tenses when I come near. Maybe he subconsciously believes her warning, so he doesn’t want to be close to me. I don’t know if the bloodlust is bubbling inside him and he’s fighting it or if he just needs time to process things alone. But I tell him that I’m here for him if he needs me. Then, I busy myself throwing away everything destroyed in the wake of their broken bond.
I pick up a large piece of glass and my muscles tense involuntarily, my body moving forward by its own volition, my hands twitching towardMalcolm as he stands with his back to me. I am right behind him. Sharp edge pointed out, horrified by myself as I think of how easy it would be to slice him into bloody ribbons. I can almost feel his blood wetting my palm. And I want it. Glass gleaming, I feel my body leaning closer to Malcolm, and I force myself to step away. Pain arcs through my arm as I force it to lower; it takes everything inside me to restrain myself. My breaths come in ragged gasps under the strain of holding back. I toss the glass in the trash and tremble.
Back still turned, Malcolm didn’t notice what I almost did.
I’m disgusted by myself. I hate these evil intrusive thoughts and impulses. Hate knowing that I’m safe and murderous when I’m by his side. Malcolm’s love is my salvation and my biggest curse. I long for his touch, I love it, love him, but I fear my love will destroy him. Like Jayla said it would.
Malcolm’s voice shakes as he begins to chant across from me. He’s completely unaware that his sister was almost right. I should leave him, protect him from me. But how can I? He’s been the only light in this darkness. Trying to end the curse with him is our only hope for survival. I need to stay, to fight the dark urges. I’ll protect him by using our love to help me fight harder. Fight for him. For us.
The sound of his chanting echoes across the room as he moves toward the bed. A faint light glows from a small corner on the sheets. Recognizing the spell, my heart pumps anticipation.
The magical golden mailbox materializes on the bed, under an arch of amber light. He clutches a letter. When his gaze meets mine, I see his sad vulnerability, and I’m almost certain he’s writing to Jayla. He’s desperate for a second chance. I don’t want him this depressed, but I don’t know if I want him talking to a girl who’s trying to convince him not to trust me—even if he probably shouldn’t. Jayla sees me as a threat and an enemy, and Malcolm and I may be that to each other. But we’re moving past that ugly truth. We’ll fight our demonic impulses no matter how hard it gets, because we care about each other. I love him to death. I just wish the world could accept that.
The intricately carved flowers of the mailbox look even more beautiful amid the shambles left from the fight, that familiar miniature city of trees,cobblestone streets, and fairy-tale cottages inside glowing extra bright. When the tiny glittering fairies appear, the tulip-shaped bottoms of their dresses twirl, leaving trails of sparkling stardust behind them as they fly out. They flit and flutter excitedly around Malcolm, some batting their eyes and looking at him adoringly. Others glare at me. One fairy with tiny pale hands gestures for Malcolm to hand over the letter.
He hesitates, his hand trembling like he’s afraid. But with a deep breath, he places the letter into the hands of a pretty fairy whose silver hair matches her dress.
The price of postage is a secret. Malcolm whispers to the fairy. Her eyes widen in realization, and a small tear glistens on her cheek. Her wings flutter with empathy, and she looks understanding. For a jealous moment, I can’t help but wonder if he’s giving her a secret that he hasn’t shared with me. The fairy takes the letter from Malcolm and flies into the mailbox. The others soar behind her. The box slams closed, vanishing and taking away the magical world inside it.
Hours pass, and silence still stretches between us. Thoughts of Sabine start to loom in my mind. Our families wouldn’t be in this awkward, angry space if it wasn’t for her curse. If the Tether didn’t exist, nobody would care that Malcolm and I love each other. It’s Sabine’s fault. All of it. Frustrated, I go to the computer and dig deeper into researching her. I scour articles and forums online.
Suddenly, Malcolm’s voice slices the silence. “Emma, come here.”
I look around, but I don’t see him.
I get up and look for him. He’s gone, but there, draped over the plum velvet chaise longue, is a beautiful gown. Next to it, I find a note in his handwriting:
Today was awful. I’ll make tonight better. Put this on, go out the door, make a right, climb the stairs and meet me on the roof.
The roof? I wonder what he’s up to… I smile, relieved and intrigued by his game. My fingertips trace the heart-shaped bodice of the dress, its metalpearls cool like raindrops. Anticipation glitters through me as I put on the gown. My waist is cinched by a shiny silver band, and the bottom of the dress billows out with layers of tulle that shift in shades of dark gray to morning blue. As I spin excitedly, noting the way the dress flutters around my legs, the bell-shaped bottom of the dress comes alive with images of moving clouds and bright flashes of lightning.
I quickly style my hair and exit our room. The hallway is full of holographic murals that come to life with visions of Manhattan’s history and morphing skyline as I pass. The deep midnight-blue carpet lights up in the shape of my footprints, leaving a trail of light behind me.
I open the door to the stairway. Inside, the walls are black marble. They reflect the curtain of dark hair framing my eyes, which are shining with wonder, and my excited brown face. My stormy dress makes me look like a princess on her way to a ball. Holograms shift glass stairs into clouds, waterfalls, and a starlit cosmos as I climb. My hand finds the cool rail, and even it shifts from twilight to dawn.
At the top of the stairs, I open a red door. I stand with the massive bottom of my dress spread wide in the doorway and look out. Beyond the rooftop, the city is veiled with silver rain. Malcolm’s silhouette catches my eye. He’s standing with his back toward me, surrounded by distant neon signs and the hum of flying vehicles. His navy suit shimmers in the city’s light. It’s as perfect as a painting.
He turns and walks toward me, a bouquet of gold roses in his hands. The holographic display on his buttons and cuffs showcases the city skyline from various times in history, and I’m amazed at every bit of detail he’s put into creating this wonderful night.
My heart stops. It’s us, the stars above, and the city lights glowing like comets. I hesitate at first, afraid that I could say something awful, or worse, push him off the roof if the dark urges come back. But I won’t let Sabine and this curse steal another moment of joy from me. I’ll control my impulses; I need Malcolm, and not just to help me end the Tether. I.Need.Him. I defiantly take his flowers and allow myself to bloom with happiness.
“Do you like it?” he asks, fiddling with his silver top hat.
“Like it?” I laugh, overjoyed. “It’s everything! The best thing a boy hasever done for me. But how did you do this? The spell books? Or the gift shop downstairs? Because this feels like magic.”
“Maybe it is.” He grins his perfectly crooked grin. “Or maybe I did what I had to so I could reassure you that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. Or I might have done this just to see that smile of yours.”
I shift in the doorway, my heart swollen with gratitude. “You got so quiet earlier. I thought you were mad at me because you believed Jayla…”
“I believe in us more. I believe girls like you deserve a happy ending. Come on.”
I hesitate, touching my hair and thinking about how wild my curls might get. “I don’t wanna get wet.”
