“Hannah, I need you to trust me. If you don’t, we’re going to be stuck like this forever.”
Her eyes snap open. “How am I supposed to trust you, Julia?”
I draw a breath, trying to think of some way to prove to her that I don’t want to hurt her. “You have my word that what happened with Charlotte won’t happen with you.”
“But how can you promise that? You tried to leave me unconscious—”
“My thoughts were on the binding spell.”
“And just now, with Riley—”
“I stopped feeding on her because of you!” The words tear out of me. “You’re the only person who’s been able to make me stop, Hannah.”
Hannah stares at me, her lips parted, her eyes wide.
My words hang between us, and I realize what I’ve revealed. Not just that she affects me, but how much. In a lifetime of taking what I want, she’s the first person who’s made me want to stop.
If she didn’t know before what she does to me, she knows now. She knows how much power she holds over me.
I shift my weight, desperate to take the words back. Dammit. I shouldn’t have admitted that.
The binding spell that’s been rooting behind my ribs all night throbs, tightening and loosening. I rub my chest as if that will calm it.
At last, she drops her gaze, swallowing hard. “But once the spell is broken, you’ll be done with me, won’t you? It won’t matter what happens to me.”
I’ve been so focused on how to break the bond that I haven’t paused to consider what happens after. When we’re no longer forced into each other’slives, will I simply disappear back into the shadows and find new prey like I did before?
The thought should appeal to me. Freedom, independence, no more binding spell to force me to care about another person’s wellbeing.
So why does the idea make my chest hollow? Why does the idea of never seeing Hannah again, never touching her skin, and never tasting the particular sweetness that belongs only to her, feel less like freedom and more like loss?
I push the thought away. I’m confusing the bond with genuine feeling. Once we’re free of each other, whatever this is will fade.
It has to.
“I don’t know what will happen after the binding breaks,” I say, and I’m disturbed by how much the uncertainty bothers me. “But we won’t have to worry about that if we don’t break the spell to begin with. Which looks more and more likely, with Rebecca’s meddling.”
Hannah studies my face, and for a moment, I think I see something soften in her expression. But then she looks away.
A long, unbearable silence stretches between us.
I’ve run out of ideas. How do you convince someone to trust a monster?
Even I have to admire Rebecca’s brilliance. She has ensured that breaking the spell requires the one thing Hannah will never willingly give me.
Heaviness settles over me. Rebecca has won. By telling her about Charlotte, she’s put the final nail in the coffin.
“I need to be alone right now,” Hannah says, and before I can tell her to wait, she’s fleeing the sanctum, racing up the stone steps toward the closed bookcase.
The binding spell tugs painfully at my chest, demanding I keep her close.
Mine to protect.
But the pull feels different now, like something else is buried beneath the magical compulsion. I want to stop her and call her back, and not just because of the tug in my chest that’s throbbing so hard it hurts.
Instead, I wave my hand to open the bookcase and let her pass. I don’t wish to trap her here with me. I suppose sometime between the forest and the sanctum, Hannah Schmidt has stopped being prey.
Her footsteps retreat through the parlor and across the foyer.
