“...And then there were crows.”
My breath catches.
Crows.
“Did they… speak?” I ask softly.
Her nod is almost imperceptible. “They said… I’d never be hurt again. That I’d been warned. No. Thathe’dbeen warned.”
She looks down at her hands. They’re still glowing faintly at the fingertips. She flexes them like she’s never seen them before. Like they belong to someone else.
“I didn’t mean to do anything,” she whispers. “But something happened. Inside me. Like something woke up. Or broke free. Or…” Her throat works. “I tried to reach for my power, but I couldn’t through the fear. Then something felt like it exploded.”
I exhale shakily, voice low. “That wasn’t just something. That wasyou.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, sharp and searching.
My jaw tightens. If even this isn’t enough to unlock her mind, what is it going to fucking take? I do my bestto keep my face neutral, stamping down on the pain that threatens to rear up and strangle me. I reach out, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear.
“You don’t have to worry about it now. Just believe me when I say… you are not weak. And you are not alone.”
She nods, eyes glassy.
And then, without even meaning to, she leans forward and presses her forehead against my chest, my arms banding around her.
“I’m seeing things. I’mhearingthings.”
A warmth I recognize as hope winds its way around my heart.
Outside, the thunder rolls away into silence.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Despite my doubts, Ash insists on calling the human authorities.
They are surprisingly gentle with her. They are less so with Brett, which meets my approval. They clear him out quickly, allowing the medics to take him out, after making sure he’s shackled.
Ash had called Betsy and Annemarie, glossing over what had happened and doing what she could toalleviate their worry. I can hear the tone, if not the words. Both women want to be here, to comfort her. Both offer her a place to stay, which she declines. She brushes their concern aside, pointing out that I’m here.
A blessing or a curse?
I feel absolutely useless.
The authorities point out that she can’t stay here tonight. Not only do they need to continue working here, but the window is shattered.
Ash isn’t even phased when I tell her that Betsy had provided me an apartment and that we can stay there for the night. After what she’s endured tonight, it’s just one more thing.
She sits on the edge of the bed, legs drawn up to her chest.
She’s clean now. The men who responded allowed me to gather a bag for each of us. I’d packed for us both, focusing on the things that I hoped would bring her the most comfort — her laptop, favorite clothes, toiletries. Her things. She’s wrapped in soft cotton and silence. The blood is gone. Brett is gone. But I know her skin — her mind — remembers. There, they may still exist.
I spend the time while she’s showering doing a mental tally of all of the traumatic scars this woman carries. I’m starting to consider that maybe it would be best for Ash tonotremember.
Now though, I stand guard across the room, hands curled into fists at my sides. So much rage. So much impotent rage. I don’t trust the very air to not hurt her again and struggle to remind myself that she handled herself.
I haven’t left her side. Not since the crows. Not sincehearing her scream. Not since she looked at a man who tried to take everything from her — to take her from me — and something inside herburned him back.
She slowly turns her head towards me. “You’re here.”
