“Jesús, María, y José,” he grumbled. “What now?”
“I guess you need to get that, huh?”
“Yep.” He fished the phone out of his pocket and hit the answer button. “Alvarez. What’ve you got?”
His golden face paled, his eyes suddenly wide with horror as they locked onto mine.
“What’s wrong?” I mouthed.
“Thanks,” he said into the phone. “I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
“More vampires? Another witch missing?” My heart was in my throat. “Emilio, what’s happening?”
“Your house in South Bay,” he said, the shock still plain on his face.
“What about it?”
“It’s on fire.”
Twenty-Six
GRAY
They wouldn’t let me go to Blackmoon Bay.
Ronan tried to make me a cup of mint tea, but he didn’t do it right—not like Emilio always did. Darius alternated between checking on me, interrogating Fiona, and apologizing to her for my actions, as if he still couldn’t decide whose side she was really on. And Asher did what Asher did best lately—stayed away from me, locking himself in his room, probably obsessing over his sketchbook.
I paced. I jogged around the yard. I showered. I paced some more. Nothing could calm the anxious energy zipping through my bloodstream as we waited for news from Emilio.
It was several hours before he finally returned to us, walking through the door like a ghost, his face covered in black soot, his hair gray with ash, his eyes red.
“Is there anything left?” I whispered.
Emilio took my hands in his, gently shaking his head. “I’m so sorry,querida. Your house… It’s gone.”
Gone.
Such a small word for such an immense, irrevocable declaration.
Calla wasgone.
The house I’d grown up in wasgone.
Sophie wasgone.
The house she and I had shared wasgone.
How could anything so solid, so real no longer exist? How could something be here one moment, close enough to touch, and then just… not?
I dropped onto the couch and closed my eyes, trying to process this devastating news.
Emilio told us that no one had been hurt, and for that, I was truly grateful.
But the house… It was still the loss of something I cared deeply about. A place where I’d made some of my best memories—a place where I’d hung my heart. And though none of us had talked about timelines, deep down I’d always hoped I’d be able to return someday, even if that someday was a year from now.
A fool’s hope, perhaps, but one I’d still held close.
Ronan was still paying my rent, and he’d been checking in on the place regularly during his shifts, making sure it looked lived-in and cared-for so it wouldn’t become a target for vandals. At some point I’d planned to sort through Sophie’s things—to set some of her artwork and clothing aside for Haley, maybe pick out a few things for Jael. Sophie would’ve wanted me to donate the rest of her art supplies to one of the local schools, and her clothes and shoes to the women’s shelter down near the precinct.
