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Forty-Two

HARLOW

It drifts from my mind, hovering in the air like a projection screen for the entire coven to view. Their gasps seem so far away, lost amidst the throbbing of my head. It’s only the projection that compels me to lift my head, my fingers knotting around the blades of grass in my vicinity as I try to focus on what’s being unleashed.

“Mommy!” I dart towards the woman across the yard, wrapping my arms around her knees.

My mother lifts me in her arms, swinging me back and forth in that way she knows I enjoy before instructing me to head inside and get changed for bed.

That vision fades, and a knife-like scraping sensation against my brain physically yanks another one forward. And then another. And another.

“Make it stop, make it stop…” My hands clench my head, each scraping more painful than the last.

“Mom, it’s hurting her!” a voice screams. Carina, I believe.

In the distance—or my head, I can’t figure out what’s what anymore—Alec bellows in rage.

On and on they go, flashes of my parents—my real parents. Mom’s hair is vibrant red, and I see now how weak in comparison Violet’s hair was. There are images of her telling bedtime stories with the smoke and shadows made by her flames, and it is nothing like how Violet would tuck me into bed.

Alec screams my name. I wonder why he hasn’t come yet. I want him to save me.

“Carina, over here! Let’s play hide and seek. You first.” Carina bolts down the road from her house to mine.

Memories of early childhood flit through the numerous scenes, but I need them to stop. I’d rather be lost and deal with the unknown.

“Stop…please.”

The pain doesn’t stop.

Alec yells again.

Then there are memories of Violet and Arthur. First at coven events, and then speaking to me. Asking me simple things about myself. Favourite foods. Activities I enjoy.

It’s the last memory that makes my insides rattle the most as the image appears in front of us all.

I’m sleeping when I’m woken by a bang downstairs, a yell, and then a, “Get Harlow!” I think it’s Daddy yelling at Mommy.

I push the blanket off my body and rub my eyes before sitting up, staring at the door, and wondering if I should get out of bed.

I’m in the middle of deciding when there’s more yelling, more banging. I slide out of bed and rush towards my closet, my hand on the knob when my door flings open. I turn, expecting Mommy or even Daddy, but it’s not them. It’s a woman with dark hair. I’ve seen her at coven events. She has a pretty name, named after a flower. Violet. She’s nice.

But she shouldn’t be in my house right now. “What are you doing here? Where’s Mommy?”

My question goes unanswered as a flash of green fills the room.

The memory fades, quickly replaced by another one. The same one my consciousness dredged up in Alec’s cells, only this time, it’s the full scene.

Alec. He’s still yelling.

My head is still being scraped by a knife.

And no one’s listening to me as I beg them to end this.

“Stop, stop, stop…” My voice fades, dry from the pointless begging.

A cool slither wraps my hands where they’re clenching around the grass. Make them stop. You can do it.

How? I ask whatever the voice is as an image continues playing in front of me.

Cuffs weigh my arms down, and no matter how much I yell, scream, and pull on them, I can’t get free. The skin around the cuffs stings, sliced and bleeding, from the amount I’ve yanked on them.

“Mommy! Daddy!” I yell and yell, but no one comes. For hours, I’m crying. I’m hungry, tired, and cold.

But no one helps me.

Mommy always told me she’d be there for me. So where is she?

It feels like days are passing, where every minute is more pointless hope. I wish I was older and had access to my magick, but Mommy says I’m too young. That my powers will come in alongside something called puberty, but she hasn’t told me what that fully means.

Finally, the door opens, and the first thing I see is the moon. It’s full. Next, a figure blocks the beautiful glow and my connection to the Goddess, whom Mommy said to always pray to if I need anything because She cares for all her children.

“Plans changed. You’ll be coming home with us for a while, Harlow.”

That vision fades as well, leaving a question to float through the coven: What plans?

More memories surface. Memories of my years being raised by Violet and Arthur, referring to them as Mom and Dad. Memories in which I’d wake up asking about the woman in my dreams and the mountains we used to live near. Later in the day, I’d forget everything all over.

Memories that were taken from me, resulting in me losing hours of my life. Over and over.

“See this?” Mom points to a grimoire that I’ve been using to help master my new magick. She’s pointing to an incantation, but it’s one I don’t recognize. Not that I know many spells.

“What is it?”

“A special kind of power that’s very strong, called black magick. You can be like the Goddess herself with it.”

“Seriously?” The concept of that much power is intriguing, considering all I can do right about now is dry my own hair.

“Yes. Memorize it. I need you to know it deep down, even if by tonight you’ll have no recollection of learning it.”

Gasps come from the coven, but another memory replaces that one. This one grim and masked with magick.

One that depicts the numerous flashes of Arthur wiping every black magick enchantment and curse they forced me to learn.

Another where they cast a curse over me, and I leave the room with the fire inside me much duller than when I walked in.

Another one where I snuck around the house one night and overheard a conversation that wasn’t meant for me:

“She’s growing too powerful, Arthur. Her Sinclair blood is too strong. It’s getting harder to bind her magic. One day, we might not be able to taper it.”

“Maybe we let it then.”

“If we allow that, it’d undo all the work we’ve been doing to make her Dark.”

“Unless she’s meant to master both.”

“You have a plan; I can tell by your expression. What is it?”

What are they talking about? I lean closer to the door to hear better, but the floorboard creaks. I freeze, hoping they didn’t catch it.

Steps pound towards me, and I’m not fast enough when running back to my room.

“Make it stop!”

The memories flash through more recent years, pausing on the night of the fire that took everything from me.

The force of my magick flings my limp body out the door, and it lands in the middle of my backyard as the house continues burning.

Mom…Dad…my mind won’t stay focused.

But right as my eyes slide shut, a darkness envelops me. Shadows hover above my head, prodding my chest but unable to enter. They don’t seem bothered by it, though, remaining around me like a depraved hug.

Then there are memories of Alec in my room, of him kidnapping me. Of the cells, the party, the bedroom, and the forest. Every intimate moment between us laid out for the coven, all going towards the recent event of getting my magick back.

This time, all of it. Finding the box, my emotions, and the surge of fire that consumed me, burned me from the inside, my true powers returning, no longer restricted by Arthur’s deception. At the very end of the most recent vision, the shadows I believed for so long were all in my head, fucking with me out of sick amusement by the Goddess, slip inside, mingling with my elemental power.

More gasps.

Alec is fighting to get to me.

The slithery feeling. The voice urging me to do things. The way it hurt Alec.

The flashes of anger I’ve had since?—

The murmurs break. Hands release one another. A blast knocks a few members back.

The scraping on my brain ends, and while my body demands rest, I force my head up, seeking Morgan’s guidance while my lungs work overtime, trying to stabilize.

Morgan’s staring at me open-mouthed, her arms still out by her side from where the witches on either side of her released her hands.

Murmurs travel around the coven, few words louder than everything: “Black magick. They made her Dark.”

Anguish fills Morgan’s eyes, and she drops to her knees, mirroring my position. “That’s impossible…” she breathes, so low I’m surprised I hear her. “Black magick requires killing. They?—”

I killed my parents that night. I tried to protect , but I instead destroyed .

I opened myself up to Darkness.

I scan the group. The stares. All unwelcoming, terrified, horrified.

Carina looks puzzled.

Jasper looks dazed.

Morgan looks disappointed.

Unable to suffer the weight of their judgement for a second longer, I lunge from the circle and streak into the woods, bushes and low-hanging branches tugging at the cloak tied around me. The string pulls taut around my neck until I undo it, letting it flutter to the ground behind me, a black stain on nature.

Exactly as I am.

Hellion.

I ignore him and keep running.

Harlow, stop.

A command I also ignore.

This entire time, I drained myself of my fire magick only to allow the shadows to slip in and fill the gaps left behind. A cold and unwelcome pest, taking over slowly, bit by bit.

For a fucking second , I thought maybe, just maybe , I could forgive the people I called Mom and Dad. That after all they’d done to my family and this coven, the love I felt for them growing up would decide everything. Like kids who get adopted; it’s the family they know who matters more than the family they had.

But no. Every hug, every moment, was all for show. Whatever their reasons, Violet and Arthur used me. Created me to be something I’m not—shouldn’t ever be.

The whoosh tells me who’s incoming before the body appears in front of me, dark eyes covered by dark hair, a creature of Darkness himself, standing amidst the dark forest…in front of the witch forced into it. Like a fucking match of fate.

I nearly laugh, but instead voice my thoughts. “It all makes sense now.”

“What does?”

“You. Me. My attraction to you. Me being your Bride, despite not being a vampire. It all makes sense! From the minute we met, I felt something different with you. Something I’ve never felt towards another, and I assumed it was some weirdness pulling us together, considering I was hearing your voice long before we met. But no.” I huff, partially annoyed I’m admitting all this to him when I’ve barely processed it myself. “No, it’s not that at all. It’s because you’re a vampire , descended from a demon, and I’m tainted with black magick. We’re both creatures of Darkness!”

He hauls me to his chest, his arm an unbreakable band around my waist. “Do not say that. Black magick hasn’t tainted you.”

“But I am tainted,” I argue. “You can’t deny that, because you know it’s true.”

“Fine, it is true,” he agrees, his hand coming up to the back of my head, his fingers wrapping around the side of my neck until they brush his bite marks. “You are tainted—tainted by me . I could think of nothing better, because you’re a fucking gift that I’m pleased to have, and it has nothing to do with the magick you control—Light or Dark.”

“You don’t get it.” I shove his chest, twisting to get away. “Black magick destroys witches, Alec. There’s a reason it’s forbidden. You saw everyone’s faces back there. I’m dangerous. The coven I’ve just rediscovered will kick me out because I’m unsavable. And you…you need to get away from me, because if it doesn’t destroy me, it’ll destroy you. And I don’t want that, okay?” I don’t. At all. Because like it or fucking not, by some sick twist of fate, we’re connected enough that I care what happens to him. Regardless of the past, Alec doesn’t deserve to be brought down by me.

His eyes glisten beneath the full moon. He’s a natural predator, but for once, between the two of us, I might be the more dangerous one. He releases my body to grasp the sides of my face, walking into me until I’m forced backwards. “Black magick cannot destroy me, because you have already annihilated me, Hellion. Since the moment we’ve met, I’ve been breaking down piece by fucking piece, never to be whole again.”

Another step.

“It won’t destroy you, because I will conquer every level of Hell, Heaven, and whatever Otherworld there is before losing you. Death would never dare touch what I’ve claimed. Death is not possible, because the sorry soul who tries to steal you will have me to deal with.”

Another step.

“As for the magick…you think I care? As you’ve said, I am a creature of Darkness, so your Darkness is now my Darkness. If you submerge yourself in it, I’ll be there to catch you. If you want to fight it and remain in the Light, I’ll be the shadow at your back, an obscurity forever trailing you. Either way, Darkness is a part of us both, and I don’t give a fuck.”

Another step, and my back hits a tree trunk with a low gasp. His hands curve around the sides of my face, fingers digging into my jaw until he tilts my head.

“I thank the imposters who raised you, because they made you fucking perfect. Perfect for me. Perfect in every way. Light, Dark, or a mix. And if your asshole coven wants to toss you out, then they’re missing out on a powerful witch who’d damn well strengthen their ranks.”

“Alec,” I whisper, my throat tight with the many other things I want to say. To deny. To argue about. “It’s not the same,” is what I manage. “This kind of magick is bad. I’ll fall into it the more time passes, even if I fight it.”

His lips part, showing his fangs, as though merely threatened by my words. “You don’t know that for certain. Besides, have you not listened to a fucking word I’ve said? It doesn’t matter to me, and it shouldn’t to you. Morgan cares a great deal about you; I can’t imagine her kicking you out over something you had no decision in. The coven might be able to help you. I watched something truly miraculous tonight. Maybe they can do it again.”

“You don’t know that for certain.” I use his own words on him.

“You’re right, I don’t. But once again, I don’t really care, because there will never be a future where we’re not together. No matter how much you fight me, it’s you and me now. While you’re busy fighting me, I’ll fight your demons, banish those shadows. Whatever you need, Hellion.”

I reach up to cup his face, still not sure how to voice everything in my head. “The shadows don’t bother me when you’re around. I’ve always appreciated that about your presence. Although, after tonight’s revelations, what I’ve been thinking of as a good thing might not be. Might be one more reason to stay away.”

His eyes flicker, intense pools of endless ocean during the night. “It only proves my point. Between the two of us, I’m much more encased in Darkness, which means you won’t have to worry about harming me. I’ll battle it for ownership over you.”

“That doesn’t exactly sell me on the concept. What if I make you worse?”

“Worse,” he repeats, amusement tingeing his tone. “Hellion, I will drown in everything wicked, immoral, and Dark if it means you get to rise up and break free from the shadows. I’ll remain the villain if you get to be the hero. Never doubt that.”

His offer makes my heart skip a beat. “What if I don’t want you to?”

He ducks, his whispered reply imprinting on my lips. “When have I ever asked what you wanted? This time will be no different. I’ll do whatever it takes to save you from everyone and everything, even yourself. The fact you don’t want me to is all the more reason I will.”

“Alec…”

“Shut up, Hellion.” His low growl is all I hear, all I feel, before his lips take mine in a kiss so overwhelming, so sweeping, I’d believe it alone could resolve the battle between Light and Dark inside me.