Page 14

I came back to myself in the alley behind Mack’s garage, my palms pressed against the brick wall.

“What did she do to me?” I whispered.

Mack’s jaw tightened. “She took your grace and turned every mistake into entertainment. The harder you try not to screw up, the worse it gets. And when it happens in front of other people, they’re pushed to laugh.”

A year of humiliation rearranged itself inside my head.

Every inexplicable stumble. Every shattered glass. Every doorframe, chair leg, loose floorboard, and perfectly flat stretch of pavement that had somehow become my mortal enemy.

The laughter that always followed.

The delight on people’s faces when I failed.

I’d thought something had gone wrong when Vivienne dumped me here. That I was defective even by vampire standards. Too new, too weak, too fucking useless to control my own body.

But this hadn’t been me.

It had never been me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried.”

I turned on him. “When?”

“The day after it happened. You looked at me like I was insane. You didn’t remember Jacqueline coming to the garage at all.”

My anger faltered.

Mack continued, his voice quieter. “Every time I said her name, you changed the subject. If I pushed, you became confused or walked away in the middle of the conversation. I thought you were refusing to face what happened.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I realize that now.”

“Why can I remember it this time?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Maybe the spell weakened. Maybe meeting Carolina damaged whatever Jacqueline did to keep the memory buried.”

“Or maybe Jacqueline wanted me to remember eventually.”

“Also possible. She does enjoy making a point.”

I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the concrete.

The memory continued to sharpen now that it had broken free.

Jacqueline’s cold assessment. Her smile. That whisper of something moving beneath my skin.

She had offered to help me, and I had repaid her by being cruel.

I’d been overwhelmed, grieving, hungry, and terrified. None of that excused what I said.

But her answer had been a year of public humiliation.

We had both been wrong.

Only one of us had been powerful enough to turn being wrong into a life sentence.