I pulled up my pants, readjusting myself inside. “Anything, Cupcake.”
“Find the witches—he’s keeping them in here somewhere. You have to get them out. Fiona, too.” Gray looked at me, her blue eyes so fierce and beautiful there was nothing I wouldn’t have promised her just then. “The guys… The guys are okay. I can feel it.”
“They’re fine. They’re great. They’re already out looking for us. That motherfucker is just trying to get under your skin.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not happening. Not anymore.”
“That hold spell won’t last forever,” I said, nodding at the lump of him outside the gate. He was already starting to show signs of life again, groaning softly, his leg twitching.
“You take care of everyone else,” she said. “I’ll deal with Jonathan.”
“I want to help you end this, Gray.”
“I know, and… and I love you for that.” She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then she leaned in and kissed me again, a slow and lingering kiss that absolutely melted me. When she pulled back, her eyes were glassy with tears, but she didn’t let them fall, determined to tough it out till the bitter end. “But I’m afraid my fight with Jonathan is just beginning.”
Thirty-Six
GRAY
Sophie had always been an all-in, ride-or-die kind of girl.
If she ordered ice cream, it was a banana split with extra hot fudge and two cherries instead of one. She once worked double shifts at Illuminae for an month in exchange for borrowing another bartender’s car, just so we could drive to the coast for a few hours to watch the sun set over the Pacific. She laughed hard and often, and if you didn’t, she made it her mission in life to change that.
And when it came to tarot, while most people favored the gentle guiding energy of The Star, or the inner-child exuberance of The Sun, or even the charming naiveté of The Fool, her favorite card had been the one that sent nausea-inducing waves of fear through the rest of us: The Tower.
In it, a sinister beam of moonlight—or in some decks, lightning—struck a massive brick tower, blasting the top to bits. Desperate to avoid the destruction, several people threw themselves from the tower’s highest windows, some of them dashing themselves on the rocks below.
It represented shocking, sudden change or destruction, and the personal transformation that often followed. Sophie was all about sifting through the rubble for the gems that life’s most painful lessons often provided, and she believed that the Tower card heralded great opportunities for us, as long as we were open to receiving them.
“Don’t fear the storm, Gray. Be ready for it.”
How many times had she said that to me when the Tower turned up in one of my readings? How often had that shocking, life-altering, foundation-crumbling Tower card energy graced my life? How many lessons had it taught me, forcing me to rebuild again and again as I stood in the ruins of something I once held so dear?
Before I’d even learned to walk, my birthmother died. Calla had adopted me, given me a home, taught me about magic, and loved me as her own, only to be murdered before my eyes, savagely brutalized by Jonathan’s family. Jonathan murdered Sophie, my best and most cherished friend. I’d learned that I was a Shadowborn, a necromancer who could manipulate souls. I’d discovered that someone had signed my life away in a crossroads deal, and that the man I most trusted in this world was the demonic guardian charged with delivering my soul upon my death. My house had been destroyed, also by Jonathan’s hand. I’d become his prisoner. I’d been forced to watch helplessly as he executed women—women I might’ve been able to save if only I’d thought more quickly, acted differently, been another person altogether.
Lightning. Smashed bricks. Dashing myself on the rocks below, trading one pain for another.
So many tower card moments, shaking down the foundations of everything I held true, forcing me to stand in the ruins of an old life and rebuild, again and again and again.
But through all that devastation and loss, I’d also made friends. Reconnected with my magic. Built another home with people I cared for deeply.
And I’d fallen in love. I wasstillfalling in love.
I pressed my fingers to my lips, the cinnamon taste of my demon lingering, and I smiled.
I used to think the Tower card was a warning. You couldn’t always know where the lightning would strike, or how much damage it would do, and you definitely couldn’t stop it. But if you heeded the card’s advice—if you readied yourself for the storm, as Sophie always said—you might be able to to lessen the impact of your impending fall. To prepare yourself to get up once again, crawl out of the rubble, and begin the long, slow process of putting your life back together.
But maybe Sophie and I had been wrong.
Maybe the Tower wasn’t about figuring out how to survive the fall and thrive in its aftermath, but deciding what you were willing to sacrifice so that someone else might.
I thought of Asher, his chestnut hair sticking up from where I’d run my hands through it, his sea-blue eyes telling me more than words ever could.
When he looked at me like that, I felt him in my very soul, warm in all the places it had connected with his, binding us forever.
I thought of Haley and Reva and the other witches, imprisoned somewhere in this cave. I thought of Fiona, broken and afraid, still waiting for the chance to find her inner strength. I thought of all the beings Jonathan had hurt, and the ones he’d yet to get his hands on.
I thought of Ronan’s protectiveness and his strong, steady heartbeat, and the dizzy way I’d felt the first time he kissed me. I thought of Emilio’s soulful eyes and infamous brownies and his boundless empathy. I thought of Darius’s commanding touch and the tender side of his heart he’d only shared with me.
