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27

Jon

“ W here do you want me to put this?” I asked Gwen, hefting a heavy box of books in my arms.

The living room, once warm and cluttered, was nearly empty now. Much of the furniture was gone, and the walls were stripped bare, colorful paintings stacked in the corner by the window. The whole upper floor felt hollow. Even the cats and dogs paced from room to room like they could sense something wasn’t right.

I couldn’t shake the guilt. Gwen and Hannah wouldn’t be uprooting themselves if we hadn’t pulled them into our mess. Helping them pack a few boxes was the least we could do.

“Just stack it on top of the others,” Gwen said in a low, tired voice. Her raven hair was braided over one shoulder, the strands loose from harried movement all morning.

Cliff walked past, bearing a box haphazardly packed full of DVDs from the bedroom. He dropped it unceremoniously over mine, then fished out a title that had been resting on top.

“ Casablanca ? Really?” He raised his eyebrows, waggling the black-and-white case. “Ten bucks says you’ve never touched this since you bought it.”

“It’s a classic.” Gwen snatched it from him and tucked it back into place. “I’ll get around to it. Soon.”

Cliff handed her the roll of shipping tape, his expression skeptical but good-natured. “My sister went on a classics kick once. Insisted she wanted to be more cultured than the other middle schoolers. She got over that urge real quick when she realized how many of them were a slog to get through.”

Gwen gave him a soft nudge on the arm, a small laugh escaping her. The look on her face was cautious, though surprisingly gentle. “Any word from her lately?”

“Hard for her to reach out when she doesn’t have my number, but… I dunno. Sylv was pestering me to call her the other day. I might just do it to get her off my back.”

She snorted. “You really have gone soft, haven’t you? It’s a good look on you.”

The front door creaked open, and the three of us turned to see Hannah walk in, wiping her grease-covered hands on her jeans. Her face was sweaty, and her clothes were streaked with oil like she’d been halfway inside a car all morning. All things considered, it wasn’t far from the truth.

Sylvia appeared behind her, iridescent wings glinting golden in the midday sunlight streaming in. She’d insisted on keeping Hannah company, though I knew she was hoping to glean some helpful information about the inner workings of an engine.

“So, the car…” Sylvia did a poor job of hiding a wince.

“Don’t sugarcoat it.” I folded my arms, looking between them as Hannah shut the door.

“Did everything I could, but your Pontiac’s dust,” Hannah announced. “Transmission’s out of commission, not to mention the electrical.”

She sauntered into the room, handing Cliff one of the pistons from the engine. The hunk of metal was discolored, damaged from the prolonged stint underwater.

Cliff let out a long sigh, looking at the piston like he had been handed a human skull. “Our luck had to run out somewhere.”

Hannah exhaled a shaky laugh as if to question where our luck had begun. But an enthused glint hid beneath her exhausted gaze. “There are plenty of other cars on the lot,” she pointed out casually.

She exchanged a smirk with Sylvia when Cliff immediately glanced in the Challenger’s direction.

“Why don’t you take that one off my hands?” Hannah nodded toward it. “You’ve been eye-fucking it all week. It’ll save you the trouble of jacking it when I’m not looking.”

“Oh, come on, I wouldn’t—” Cliff’s insulted defensiveness took a backseat as he processed what she said. For a second, he looked thrilled, but it quickly melted into suspicion as he narrowed his eyes between Hannah and Gwen. He even threw a glare at me and Sylvia like we were in on a cruel joke. “Don’t fuck with me,” he said. “We can’t afford a tire off of that.”

Unfazed, Hannah reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Some of the Pontiac parts are workable enough to earn you a couple grand. How’s five for the Challenger, plus you move a few more boxes, and we’ll call it even?”

“Jesus,” I muttered. I wasn’t anywhere near as obsessive as Cliff, but even I knew this was beyond a steal; it was a charity case. Then again, maybe that was what we were beginning to look like.

“Consider it a favor for me,” Hannah insisted. “My cousin’s coming to take over the lot. Love him to death, but he doesn’t know shit about maintaining classics. It’ll sit around and rust.” She tossed the keys, and Cliff snatched them out of the air. Her sweet smile tightened around the edges. “But if this one ends up in a swamp, I suggest you go down with it before I catch wind.”

“Noted.” Cliff looked down at the keys with disbelief. “Thanks, Hannah,” he murmured with surprising sincerity. Then he cleared his throat and glanced at me pointedly, raising his eyebrows. My expression flattened— thanks a lot. So, he was dumping it on me to pry .

I tried not to sound like I was interrogating, but there was no way around it. “Are we gonna talk about what the hell that was yesterday—or, Monday?” The lost days were still hard to wrap my head around, but the memory of Hannah slipping into her trance may as well have been from minutes ago.

Hannah’s gaze dropped. Her grease-stained fingers wove together, suddenly fidgeting. Gwen put a hand on her arm and shot each of us a warning glare, but she didn’t stop Hannah from answering.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I come from a line of mediums on my mom’s side,” Hannah admitted in a low voice. “Nothing fancy these days; most of us keep it under wraps. My Tante Halle does make a killing with online readings, and my grandma had her own parlor in New Orleans before she passed.”

An uncertain shiver ran down my spine. Clairvoyance was typically a short walk from witchcraft, and most covens had a natural medium in their ranks. With how swiftly I was bristling, it was no wonder Gwen was hellbent on keeping Hannah away from hunters.

Sighing, Hannah looked between Cliff and me. “My family calls it the gift , though it feels like anything but. My episodes started younger than anyone expected—I was barely nine. I collapsed during recess and spouted off about my friend suffering a great sorrow. I’ll never forget how my classmates and the teachers were looking at me when I came to—like I was some sort of freak. Well, it got even worse when my friend’s dad died in a car accident a week later.”

She swallowed hard. “I could go on about the other incidents, but bottom line, I never wanted anything to do with the gift. My family was so disappointed in me for suppressing my abilities instead of harnessing them. I’m supposed to be honored to be blessed, but it scares me.” She lowered her gaze, growing melancholy. “And it scares others, too. I’m sorry about whatever I said to you—clearly it put you on edge.”

That’s putting it lightly, I thought bitterly.

“You really don’t remember?” Sylvia asked, wheeling around to take a perch on my shoulder.

A pause drew out—as awkward as it was unsettling. My throat closed at the memory of Hannah’s rolling eyes and manic refrain—the words painting my best friend into some kind of messiah.

You’re Cliff Everett, aren’t you? The one from the legends. Are you going to save us?

Goosebumps prickled on my arms as I recalled the rasped words she had offered to me , too.

I side-eyed Cliff’s profile. His jaw was squared hard enough to make a vein in his neck visible, but his eyebrows were unknit. He was working hard to school his expression—a dead giveaway to anyone who knew him well. It was an odd comfort that he was just as creeped out by the prophecy as I was.

Gwen took Hannah’s hand and squeezed it. Finally, with some obvious embarrassment, Hannah cleared her throat.

“Can’t remember a thing. That’s how it is with everyone who has the gift in my family.” She smirked half-heartedly. “Total client confidentiality. I think Tante Halle records her sessions so she can keep track of her predictions.”

“And you didn’t know anything supernatural existed beyond that?” Cliff asked skeptically.

“Can’t say I wasn’t a little curious, but my dad was on my side when he saw how much the gift scared me. He was quick to shut down any talk about visions, prophecies, and the supernatural at family get-togethers when I was in earshot—and I was grateful for it. I guess I never had the chance to cross paths with anything else. ”

Gwen scoffed. “At least none that you knew of. Hell, I don’t know how you managed to survive until I came along.”

“My hero .” Hannah nudged Gwen with her hip, eyes sparkling. “When she stuck around after witnessing one of my episodes, I knew she was the one. Obviously, I didn’t know she’d seen much worse before.”

Gwen glanced at Hannah’s lips before looking back at us, momentarily riveted by the memory. “I didn’t feel right leaving her alone after the wraith. I couldn’t, you know? Not with the outpost right in her backyard. The idea of one of those trigger-happy idiots mistaking her for a coven clairvoyant…”

She looked sharply to the slit of sunlight pouring in through the curtains as a shadow passed over the living room. A passing car—but I couldn’t blame her for being jumpy. We were all on a running clock. Rhett’s chances of survival didn’t seem likely, but any other survivors of the massacre might have us on their radar—especially with how hellbent they had been about targeting Cliff in particular.

“This place became home before I knew it,” Gwen finished softly.

A sense of heaviness settled over the room after that—because this wouldn’t be home for much longer, and it was our fault. I felt Sylvia shift restlessly on my shoulder, no doubt playing with her hair as she waded through the same guilt.

“Have you ever been wrong?” Sylvia asked, her melodic voice strained at the edges like she had been bottling up the question for hours. “About the prophecies?”

Hannah’s gaze rested on Sylvia with a sadness that seemed to age her. My stomach twisted as I remembered the haunted way Sylvia had regarded me when we left the garage that day. Her love will ruin you . It could have meant anyone , it could have been bullshit—but my sweetest assurances couldn’t heal Sylvia’s worry.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Hannah said. “But please—don’t let it eat at you. I’m a firm believer that destiny is the wheel of a car. We get to steer it.”

She offered us a crooked smile, bearing the weight of grief and hope all at once. A weight I knew well. Hannah bent down to peck Gwen’s cheek, and excused herself to pull the Challenger around front for us. Cliff looked longingly after the jingle of keys that she had pried from his hands. Despite everything, I smiled. Cliff was going to be insufferable for the next few months on the road, playing with his new toy.

While we transported a few more boxes, Gwen fetched us glasses of lemonade from the dining room. I was surprised when she came back with a thimble for Sylvia, who was too stunned to thank her in more than a stammer.

“Another one of Hannah’s recipes?” I asked.

“Mine, actually,” Gwen chirped. “If you count thawing a can of concentrate.”

Gwen stopped in front of Cliff, reaching a hand inside his jacket. I stopped with my glass halfway to my mouth, watching how he froze up. Her hand grazed over his chest, rooting into the inner pocket—helping herself to his flask. She emptied what was left of the whiskey into her glass and gave him a look through her lashes as if to challenge that yes, he owed her this. She took a seat on one of the sealed moving boxes and indulged in a long gulp.

“Where’s next for you?” Gwen asked.

“West,” Sylvia announced.

“Right, the hitchhiking. You catch wind of something out there?” Gwen asked.

Cliff’s eyes cut toward Sylvia, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Something like that,” he said.

Gwen glanced between the three of us flatly. “That’s all I get?” She scoffed around another sip. “Well, maybe it’s better I don’t know. Just don’t get yourself killed out there.”

Cliff gave a strangely knowing chuckle that made Gwen send him a sharp look.

“What are you smirking about?” she snapped, elegant brows furrowing.

Cliff sauntered to her, taking his flask back. He tucked it back out of sight, looking down at her with that insufferable crooked smile. “You’re still soft on me,” he said, though there was nothing smug in his voice. His broad shoulders pinched in a shrug. “I spent a long time thinking you hated my guts.”

Her guarded frown shattered, giving way to a softer gaze as she chewed on her cheek. “I never hated you, Cliff. Even when I tried to.”

She set her glass aside and stood, putting them chest-to-chest. She still looked so fragile to him, the top of her head scarcely hitting Cliff’s collarbone—though I knew there was nothing delicate about what she was capable of.

“It never would’ve worked between us, anyway,” she said, smoothing her hands over his chest. “I need cats. It’s a dealbreaker.”

Cliff sucked air through his teeth. “Ouch.”

Gwen chuckled, cupping his face in one hand. “It shouldn’t surprise you that I’ve always had a thing for strays.” She lifted on her tiptoes, brushing a kiss to his cheek.“Thanks for… you know—not leaving me for dead at the outpost,” she added, almost shyly.

Cliff’s gaze softened on her. “I’d say that evens the score between us.”

She chuckled, folding her arms over her chest. “It's a start. ”

The rumble of the Challenger’s engine crossed the front windows. Cliff looked like he wanted to touch Gwen, his hands flexing with restraint.

She was choosing—it just wasn’t him.

“I’ll see you around,” he said.

Cliff stepped away from her, striding toward the door. Sylvia took to the air behind him after setting down her entire thimble and murmuring her thanks to Gwen. She gave the former hunter a reserved look before flitting through the open doorway, asking Cliff something about the new vehicle.

I approached Gwen, hesitating for a moment before awkwardly wrapping my arms around her.Wasn’t that theright move? What you’re supposed to do when someone saves your ass and you ruin their life in return?

Gwen tensed against me, shoving me off. “Easy, big guy. We’re not there yet.”

I backpedaled, almost relieved as I shoved my hands into my pockets instead. We studied each other, all veneer of civility dropping now that we were alone. To my surprise, the abject hatred in her honey-brown eyes had cooled somewhat. But the past few days couldn’t erase our history—what I had done.

“I owe you an apology about Luke.” My words came out gruff and rushed.

“You owe me more than you can offer. Just… don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

I nodded, pinned by her gaze as she read something in my face. “You’ve changed, Nowak. Starting to think that little ice princess has you wrapped around her finger.” She smirked a little, amused by the notion, but her eyes narrowed at me. “Don’t fuck her over.”

I smiled—that I could promise.I dug around in my pocket, scrawling my cell number on the back of a crumpled receipt.

“Call if you need anything. Monsters or otherwise,” I told her, pressing it into her hands before she could reject the offer.

A German Shepherd and a teacup Yorkie bounded beside me, matching my stride as I crossed the gravel-strewn lot. Up ahead, the Challenger idled near the front lot, its burnt-umber body glinting in the sunlight where the towering oaks no longer cast their shade. Despite its vintage year, the car glimmered like it had been dipped in molten metal. The tires were new, made for grip, and the black racing stripes down the center added a certain predatory detail. It was the kind of car that jumped off the pages of a movie poster, and a boyish part of me was itching to get behind the wheel to see what was under the hood.

By the looks of it, I would have to fight Cliff for the chance. I stood beside Hannah at the trunk, watching Cliff circle the car slowly. He moved like a lover admiring every curve, his palms skimming delicately over the paint. He glanced over at me, grinning.

“God, she’s perfect, isn’t she?” He reached through the driver’s window to caress the steering wheel.

Hannah laughed. “I’m glad someone appreciates Brandy. She’s a sweet ride.”

“ Brandy ,” Cliff echoed, eyes glinting. “I like it.”

“I spent a lot of time on her. Not one scratch, you hear me?”

I winced, knowing there was no chance in hell we’d manage that. Cliff knew it, too, because he nodded vaguely and excused himself to pack up the belongings we’d collected from the motel room .

Meanwhile, I had to practically drag Sylvia away from saying goodbye to the animals—even when she insisted that there were more that she had missed inside the house.

“You’re taking them all with you?” Sylvia asked Hannah, stroking the German Shepherd’s ears while the Yorkie grumbled for attention.

“Can’t separate the pack,” Hannah said. “It won’t happen overnight, but we’ll get them over there eventually. Trust me, they’ll love it. It’s an old family place out in the country with plenty of space for them to run around and get into all sorts of trouble.”

“An old place? You’ll call us if it’s haunted?” Sylvia inquired far too cheerfully as she finally flew up to eye level.

Hannah’s eyes widened at the possibility. “I think Gwen’s got that in the bag—but I wouldn’t mind a non-life-or-death visit sometime. I’ll have to see about getting some strawberries to grow out there.”

Our future may have been a strained mystery, but Sylvia looked prepared to take whichever path led her back to Hannah’s baking.

The trunk slammed shut. Hannah handed off the keys, and we loaded ourselves into the car. The seats were comfortable enough to provide a halfway decent sleep on the nights we needed to camp on the side of the road.

Hannah scooped the Yorkie into her arms and stepped back a good distance to avoid getting sprayed with gravel as Cliff made Brandy take off like a rocket. Cliff hollered with joy while Sylvia clung to me for dear life, but she was screaming with laughter—a beautiful sound that I made sure to memorize.