It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in. But when they do, a chill runs down my spine. “I’m related to her.” I bring my arms in over my chest. “To Braeya.”
“It appears so.” Jacques takes a step back. “And it makes sense. You said it yourself: there was a reason we were moved to this house. And the moment you stepped through the door…”
“You look just like her,” Thomas says. “From what I’ve seen, at least.”
“You do.” Jacques is right by me again, large, dark wings hiding the others from view. He reaches out, fingertips sweeping over my cheek. His touch is familiar, though this time, it’s not from the visions. It’s from just us being together.
Me and him.
Not Braeya. It’s strange, how seeing the world through her eyes forced me to separate her feelings from mine. Did it do the same for Jacques?
“But you’re nothing like her,” he adds softly. “Your heart…” He pushes my hair back. “Your heart is pure.”
“There are plenty who will disagree with that.” A slight blush comes to my cheeks. I’m far from pure, though I think I understand what Jacques is saying. “So, if I just give you some of my blood can we break this curse?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Of course not.” I bring my hand to my head, rubbing my temple. “I feel like I just got done with a long workout.” I look over at Thomas. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. A little singed, but fine.” He holds out his hands so I can see the marks, which look like bad sunburn. “I’ve had worse.”
Not protesting as Jacques leads me to the couch, I sink down and smile. “I kinda can’t believe I did that.”
“You should have no doubt in your powers now,” Jacques tells me. “Braeya’s family came from a long line of powerful sorcerers.”
“The bloodline has been watered down some, right? I mean, Braeya is like my great, great, great, great, great aunt or grandma or something. With a few more greats in there. The line is a thousand years old.”
“Blood is blood,” Hasan says from behind me. He comes around to the couch, sitting next to me. He’s concerned, and takes my hand, looking me over just to be sure I’m really all right. “And magic isn’t passed the same way.”
“Right. It can skip generations.” Jacques blows out the candles.
“So my mom might not have ever had powers,” I say out loud.
“And your aunt who lived here…I don’t think she did, either.”
Head spinning, I bring my legs up under myself and rest my head on Hasan’s shoulder. He loops his arm around me, pulling me in so I’m nestled between his wing and his body.
“Right,” I start. “Because if she did, you would have woken up the moment she walked through the door. Maybe she knew I did? Fuck,” I sigh, and shake my head. “This would be so much easier if I could just talk to her.” I bite the inside of my cheek. Obviously, I can channel the past. I have that book on summoning spirits, and what better way to figure this shit out than to ask someone who has the answers.
“No.” Jacques turns, wings sweeping behind him so fast they create a draft through the air that blows out the candles and scatters the salt across the floor. “It’s not that easy.”
“What’s not that easy?” Gilbert asks.
“Summoning a spirit.”
Gilbert shifts his gaze to me. “Who do you want to summon?”
“No one,” I say, getting agitated. I can fight vampires, hold fire in my hand, and go back a thousand years. I think I can handle summoning one little ghost. “I’m not summoning anything.” I yawn and my eyelids feel heavy. My body is tired, but there’s no way I can slow down my mind.
Not right now.
“Jac?”
“Yes, Ace?”
I swallow hard and sit up. “I’m sorry for what she did to you.”
His lips curve into a small smile. “I don’t blame you, Ace. I never did. You’re not her.”
