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Jace
Islept the sleep of the drugged and the damned. In my nightmares, I felt the heat, smelled the smoke, saw the flames. My body, broken and weak, struggled to hold on—to what I didn’t know. But in the end, it didn’t matter.
I wasn’t in the land of the living, that much I knew. But I could hear them. Was I dead? On the morgue slab experiencing the last of the phantom neurological twitches before everything went black? Or was I…someplace else? I struggled toward consciousness, but I couldn’t seem to get there. My ears zeroed in on the sound of Greer’s voice. Fire. Arson. Eugenia. Then nothing.
When I woke up again, everything was still. I kept my eyes closed as I struggled to piece together memories. Anna. The ladder. Moving across the roof. Hot metal burning my hands. I’d had to let go. But I knew now that I was alive.
It was a long shot. But when I’d seen what I’d thought was a ladder peeking out from beneath the tarp, I’d decided to go for it. What was the worst that could happen? We were going to die either way.
Only we didn’t. Because of Greer.
I tried to move, my mind and body warring over the wounds I’d suffered at the hands of Eugenia and the nightmare we’d escaped in the attic. I hadn’t been physically strong enough to save Greer. If anything, she’d saved me. I wouldn’t have made it off that roof without her. I didn’t deserve to have her. Didn’t deserve to keep something I couldn’t keep safe. I didn’t even know for sure that she was safe now. She’d made it off the roof, but I couldn’t remember what had happened next.
I cracked my eyes to see who was in the room with me at my worst moment. I hoped I’d see Greer. And there she was. Wearing jeans and a pink sweater.
She wasn’t asleep. Her breathing wasn’t rhythmic. But she was resting her eyes, arms wrapped around herself, head turned toward me so her cheek pressed against the scratchy hospital upholstery. My sweetheart. My clever girl.
What I didn’t expect were the other people in the room. Sheryll. Marina. And a woman I didn’t recognize at all.
“He’s awake!” Sheryll exclaimed. “He’s fine. He’s fine now, see?”
Greer jolted out of the chair to my side.
“Don’t feel fine,” I gritted out, warmed by her smile.
“But you will,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss my stubbled cheek.
“Are you fine?”
“Yes. Barely a scratch.”
“Richmond House?”
Greer just shook her head, her expression unreadable. “It’s gone. And everything in it.”
“Good riddance,” I said, but I suspected her feelings on the loss were more complicated than that. “Tell me how you feel.”
“Later,” she murmured.
“Now,” I insisted.
“I know I should be happy. Happy Eugenia’s gone. Happy that evil house has been razed. And I am. But there was so much history lost. And Eugenia…she tried to kill us. But she was also a victim. And in the end…”
“In the end, what?” I asked, noticing for the first time the bandages covering my hands.
“Oh shit,” she said, covering her mouth with her tapered fingers. “You didn’t see.”
“See what?” I asked again impatiently.
A knock on the door had everyone turning. But instead of the doctor on call, it was good old Detective Scott. Again. Oren slid into the room behind him.
“Oh. Sorry. I’ve been waiting in the hall, and I thought I heard that Mr. Blackwell was awake.”
“W-o-w.” Greer drew the word out. “Lurking in the hallway you mean. You sure don’t waste any time, do you? And here I thought we were over being enemies.”
“With all due respect, Ms. Richmond, there’s no time to waste.”
She scoffed, and the detective took it upon himself to approach my bed. I didn’t want to do this right now, but I knew it had to be done.
