‘For a long time, she truly believed she was doing the right thing,’ Emma Catherine told me, standing by my side. ‘We can tell ourselves the most powerful lies when we’re afraid of the truth but no good will come of it. Don’t let the same thing happen to you. Live in the truth, Emily.’
I followed her gaze over to Wyn, returned to human form and panting in the wreckage of the pews.
‘It’s not that I want to lie,’ I said, fresh tears dampening my smoke-dry eyes. ‘But I’m afraid of what will happen when I tell him the truth.’
Her face was sorrowful but unrepentant. ‘Betraying someone to protect them never ends well. You know that already.’
She looked over to the stairs that led out of the chapel and up to the cemetery, all the rubble and fallen marble disappeared. ‘You need to go. Bell House will help heal you, both of you. Your friend, Lydia, too. Do you still have the black crystal you found in Colonial Park?’
‘Yes,’ I nodded, wiping away my tears with the backs of my wrists. ‘Is that what made her forget the vision?’
‘Arfvedstonite, yes. That’s why I gave it to you,’ she replied. ‘Keep it close, you’ll need it again someday soon.’
Every Bell witch that ever was watched on as I helped a dazed Wyn up the staircase, out the chapel. The cemetery was achingly beautiful, refreshed by the king tide that ebbed slowly back to the river, back where it belonged. Even though it was still hours until the dawn, every bird sang its sweetest song, backed by the rhythm of the cicadas, while the butterflies and moths danced in silhouette against a glorious full moon. Every tree and flower and plant was in full bloom. I stood for a moment and let it all sink in. Fire still burned inside me but now it was tempered by the soothing moonlight, light and dark. A balance.
I stumbled back down into the chapel, stooping to pick up my grandmother’s pin when it flashed at me from the floor and slipped it back into my pocket. Then I froze. All the damage, the crushed pews, the cracked marble floor, it had all been restored. The herbs on the altar, a bundle of blood-stained silver wire, and the ceremonial dagger lying in the middle of the aisle the only evidence we’d ever been here. There was no other trace of anyone, living or dead, having set foot in this chapel this evening.
‘Catherine?’ I called into the empty space as the candles extinguished themselves one by one. ‘Emma?’
My grandmother, and all the ghosts, were gone.
Chapter Forty
When the sun rose outside my bedroom, it was just another day. I stared out through the window, people walked their dogs, ran laps around Lafayette Square, went to work. None of them had any idea what had happened in Bonaventure cemetery only a few hours ago and for that, I was grateful.
Despite the sticky summer heat, Wyn shivered under the mountain of blankets Ashley had dug out from the closet and piled on top of my bed. I lifted my gaze to the fireplace and orange and red flames sparked into life to lick at the logs.
‘Em?’
The sound of my name on his lips was the sweetest thing I had ever heard. In an instant, I was perched on the edge of the bed, right by his side. He opened his eyes, pupils expanding and contracting until they settled on me. Then he smiled.
‘You’re here.’ His words were dry and raw and when he instinctively rubbed his sore throat, I saw the painful-looking scar on his shoulder. At least it was only a scar now, all but healed.
‘I’m here,’ I confirmed, reaching for a mug of arnica tea onthe nightstand. The nightstand that held the silver pin, the arfvedstonite crystal and my birthday gift, a green-grey marble. ‘I promised I would be.’
I held the cooled tea to his lips and watched every muscle relax as he drank. I’d added calendula, feverfew, and yarrow to speed up his recovery. He was going to be just fine, physically at least. This next part wasn’t going to be easy for either of us.
‘Do you remember any of what happened in the chapel?’ I asked. ‘Catherine said you wouldn’t have any control after you phased but I can’t trust anything she said.’
‘That’s what they told me too but I do remember, all of it.’ He pressed his fingers along his shoulder, wincing slightly when he found his scar. ‘I knew you. I wasn’t completely in control but I was still there. How is that possible?’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘It shouldn’t be that way.’
‘Maybe it’s just the fact I could never forget you. Wolf or not, you’re part of me.’
The invisible connection that tied me to him shone brighter than any razor-sharp silver wire. It bound us tighter, closer than ever, but I knew there was still a chance the truth could slice it clean in two.
‘There are some things I have to tell you and I don’t know if you’re going to feel the same way afterwards,’ I said as I handed him the mug, wishing I didn’t have to do this.
Wyn closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘I think I already know,’ he replied. ‘Your grandmother told me you killed Cole. She said he was hunting you, so you killed him.’
It would have been so easy to say she was lying. He would have believed me because he wanted to and we could have wrapped a sad but tidy bow around the whole thing. NeitherCole nor Catherine were here to contradict my version of events. But I couldn’t do it. Too many lives had been ruined by lies in this house already.
‘It happened on my second night in Savannah,’ I began, pressing my palms together, nails bitten all the way down to the quick. ‘I didn’t know the wolf was a Were, I didn’t even know I was a witch. I thought it was a wild animal attacking my grandmother.’
‘But Catherine knew,’ Wyn guessed.
