“You’re leaving?” the woman asks.
Was she always this annoying? Add it to the list of shit I just can’t remember.
“You’ll miss all the fun, brother,” the dude says, rolling on top of the woman and patting the empty space next to her, undoubtedly still warm from my body.
Something inside me tells me I should probably feel something about that too; I’m pretty sure the two of us just spent half the night giving her intense pleasure, sharing her, making her scream our names.
Hell, I must’ve screamed hers a time or two. But fuck if I remember it now.
Once again, I don’t feel a damn thing. Not about that, and not about anything else.
I’m a wasteland inside. Barren. Cold.
I glance at her bedroom door, the outer door visible just beyond it, and all I can think is…
Freedom.Now.
And I’m on my way without a backward glance, wondering why the fuck I lingered so long in the first place.
Thirty-Four
STEVIE
Among brothers in blood, all things are shared…
It should’ve been the best night of our lives. The first of many more to come. Safe in their arms last night, their mouths hot on my bare skin, I imagined our first shared “morning after” would play outverydifferently.
Instead of enjoying another three-way in the shower or introducing Baz to the concept of dunch or carrying out any of the other delicious dreams I’d envisioned for this day, I’m spending my morning after sequestered in the archives, alternately paging through Mom’s old notebooks and pulling Tarot cards.
Seeking. Always seeking.
But when it comes to Baz and whatever’s going on with him right now, the answer is always the same.
Six of Cups reversed, the children on the card speaking to me of the past, the reversal suggesting Baz’s difficult adolescence—his abandonment, his struggles growing up with the Kirkpatricks.
Three of Swords reversed, the wise tree scarred by three blades, permanently balanced on a heart of stone. Old wounds refusing to heal, forcing us to relive their pain again and again.
Judgment reversed. Self-explanatory.
Whatever Baz saw in the realm—whatever Judgment pushed to the forefront of his mind and twisted with a hot blade—it’s clear that Baz has not escaped. Not from the Dark Arcana. Not from his own dark past.
And Kirin and I are powerless to help him. It feels just like being in that house in the dream realm again, the two of us standing by while Baz falls apart, our hearts breaking knowing there’s not a damn thing when can do to ease his pain.
I shove the cards back into the pile, shuffle again. A card jumps out, landing on the table in front of me.
The Hierophant.
My stomach tightens. Another reminder of our enemies. Of all the things we haven’t been able to change, no matter how hard we try.
Shoving aside the thoughts, I slide the card back into the deck and shuffle again, turning over three new cards. The same ones, of course.
I pick up the deck to try again, the bottom card winking up at me.
The Hierophant.
Goosebumps erupt along my arms and scalp, making me shiver. Thanks to the glamour Kirin and Doc pulled off in here, the archives lab may feel like a peaceful summer retreat, but at the end of the day, it will always be the place where Professor Phaines first showed me his true colors.
I don’t love the fact that his namesake card keeps showing up here uninvited.
