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The door opened and Evie crept in to deposit a laptop and earbuds on the bed. She reached over for a one-armed hug. On her way out, she pointed to me and then the window, then drew her thumb across her neck in warning.

I snorted. Evie slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. A second later, vines began slithering under the door and crawled up the walls. Soon the room was plunged into darkness.

Ethan’s breath became steadier and more even less than a minute later. For a moment, I wondered if cutting off the source of magic might have temporarily paused the spell he was under.

Waking him up would be a dick move, so I squashed my curiosity and opened the laptop.

If Mom thought I was dead, where would she go next?

And how could I keep her thinking I was dead while getting close enough to take her out for good?

Chapter

Eighteen

Something heavy settled onto the bed. I went still and cracked open one of my eyes.

Ethan loomed over me, his irises lined in gold and silver. His hands rested on either side of my shoulders, his knees pressed into the mattress on either side of my hips.

The way he was looking at me… He remembered.

I swallowed hard and willed my voice to remain steady. “Hello, Ethan. Nice to have you back for a moment.”

He blinked. “What the fuck is happening to me? And why are you so damaged? Who hurt you? The entire house smells like your blood.”

If I answered any of his questions, I’d start crying. “Are you feeling rested?” I asked instead.

Ethan frowned. “Moira! Answer my questions.”

I slowly shook my head. “How much do you remember?”

He exhaled. “I was at the hospital with you and saw⁠—”

His eyes widened in horror. “No.”

I wasn’t sure how much I could tell him without triggering blowback on the spell.

“She’s dead.” Ethan slowly shook his head. “I—how is she here? She’s dead, isn’t she?”

I nodded. He closed his eyes and climbed to the other side of the bed. I rolled onto my side to face him.

Ethan swallowed hard. “How?”

“Extremely complicated magic.”

“How long?”

I didn’t answer. Ethan let out a sharp laugh. “That long, huh?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

“We can’t break the spell without a lot of risk involved. We can’t talk to you about the spell because the same risks exist. You have to figure this one out for yourself. As soon as Evie drops the spell barrier, you won’t remember me.” I paused. “Well. You will, but not like this. You’ll remember me as Evie’s smart-mouthed best friend.”

Ethan’s mouth tightened. “I won’t remember how you like your tea or how much you love expensive cashmere.” He reached over and tugged a lock of my hair. “Or how ferocious you can be when someone you love is threatened.”

My heartbeat picked up. “No,” I whispered. “You’ll look at me like I’m a stranger.”

“How?”

I shook my head. “Some kind of necromancy in a feedback loop we can’t break without terrible consequences.”