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Calla and I look at each other, my own anxiety mirrored in her expression. That was a topic for senior year.
A year neither of us completed.
When we turn back to James, I see the first flicker of uncertainty in his face, but it disappears just as quickly.
“I can teach you,” he decides.
“We don’t have time,” Calla says. “For all we know, Adrienne is already in that compound with Westcott and my shadow self. She needs us.” Quieter, she adds, “Mom needs us.”
“We’re short on time,” I say.
“It won’t do either of them any good if you’re unsuccessful.” James’s voice is firmer than it’s been since he walked in the door. Almost sounding like a…father.
“And what would happen if we were unsuccessful?” I ask.
There’s a long beat before he responds. “Whichever version gets overpowered, they wouldn’t just return to this realm.”
“It’ll kill them,” I conclude.
“It’s the only way,” says James. “They won’t risk getting too close to the veil to simply pull them back.”
“Why would you help us over your own kids?”
“I know it’s hard to understand.” His smile turns sad, wistful. “And it’s probably hard to believe that you girls have always felt more like mine than they have. Things are different on this side, when your lives aren’t your own. When you watch your children grow into your worst nightmares and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. They’re angry—V and Popi. Bitter. Resentful of the two of you and the role you’ve played in how their lives have turned out. What I could never teach them was how many choices theydidhave. That itispossible to do more with your life on this side. But now that they’ve crossed into your realm, they will spread nothing but that hatred and darkness.”
“Hello again, James.”
I gasp at the voice behind me and whip around. The front door hangs open, the darkness from outside seeping across the threshold in tentacle-like fog. And in the middle of it all stands the shadow version of Rosemarie Darkmore.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
“You’ve always been an embarrassment,”she spits. Each step she takes is menacing and deliberate, like a predator preparing for the kill. “But to chooseherover your own kind? Your family?” She juts her chin at me—apparently not able to see Calla either—her lip curled back in a sneer like I’m something filthy lying on the side of the road.
It’s not entirely foreign to how our mother has spoken about me, but this seems to validate what she told me in Reid’s memory, that it wasn’t real. It was a role she was forced to play to protect us. Because if she was lying, this version of her would be the opposite.
James steps between us, and for the first time, I take in the ring finger on his left hand, how it’s bare. Even in the shadow realm, their relationship hadn’t panned out. His shoulders tense, and a subtle tang of fear fills the room.
He’s afraid of her.The only reason Westcott is so powerful on our side of the veil is because of the magic he stole. But this version of him hasn’t done any of that, leaving him a vampire with no magic of his own, only knowledge.
“I should have known you were behind this,” he says lowly.
“I’m trying to giveourgirls the best life they can have.” With a flick of shadow-Mom’s wrist, crimson red blood slashes across the floor in front of James in a perfect line. “The power to make their own choices.” The blood goes up in flames. “Because unlike you, I haven’t given up on my own children.” The fire spreads toward us.
Calla grabs my wrist from behind, pulling me back as black smoke climbs toward the ceiling.
“Go,” urges James, spreading his arms like he can physically keep the fire back from us, the flames reflected in his wide eyes.
“Tell him to come with us,” says Calla.
He bares his fangs as shadow-Rosemarie takes a step forward, her mouth twisted in delight as the shadows of the flames dance along her face. More blood drips from her palm, but she freezes at the sound of a low growl.
The dog stands in the doorway, its hair standing straight up and its teeth bared.
“Did I forget to mention how much Chicken hates her?” Calla whispers. “I had to hide a picture with her in it my first day here. He wouldn’t stop trying to attack it.”
The dog and James lunge at the same time.
“Go,” James roars as he pins her to the ground by her throat and the dog circles them, snarling. The fire jumps to the curtains, the furniture, the heat in the room amplifying to an unbearable degree.
