Page 24

Chapter 24

I’d Do Anything

brIAR

T he mournful howl of a wolf jolts me awake.

It takes a moment, but my memory slams into me, and I rush out the door, hurling into my flower beds.

I killed the Banisher.

Who was my brother.

Who kept me trapped for millennia because he was afraid of my power.

Bile is all that comes up as I retch off the side of my porch. I’m somewhat thankful. Puking blood would suck.

It’s sundown, and I feel my skin tightening in the fading rays.

This home is cursed.

Outside the fairy circle, with Hans and Gerrit by my side, the sun did not hurt me.

Another thing I have lost.

The wolf howls again, closer than before, and something familiar tugs in my chest.

I know that howl.

“Flint!” I scream, running towards the tree line. “Gerrit! Hans!”

I scream their names so many times my throat goes sore.

I throw myself on the circle’s boundary, summon any magic I can find within myself, and try to bring it down.

But I am depleted from killing my brother.

And though my throat is sore, though it feels fucking pointless because it may not even be Flint, and they wouldn’t remember me anyways, I scream their names still.

I fall into the dirt, tears wetting the ground around me, as I wail their names at the top of my lungs.

Cracking branches and a howl draw my attention to the other side of my clearing, and I take off running. As the two brothers and the familiar enter the clearing, I hit the boundary and fall to my knees.

“Witch!” Gerrit shouts. “I come requesting assistance.” He’s supporting Hans with his arm as he stumbles towards me. Hans looks terrible, blood caked around his lips, his eyes fogged over. His hair is slick with sweat, and his pallor is sickly.

Something is wrong with my mage.

“Anything! Anything you need. Come, Gerrit, cross the boundary and come into my home. No harm will come to you.” I’m on my feet, trying but failing to reach through the boundary to them.

Gerrit looks distrustful, taking a step backward. “How do you know my name, witch?”

It breaks my heart to no longer have his trust, but maybe I can restore his memories now that the Banisher is gone. There has to be a way.

But first, I have to help Hans.

“Your brother is sick. Let me heal Hans. Come through the circle.” I swing my gaze toward the wolf. “Flint, please. You may not remember me, but you know me. You know me.” Tears crack my voice, and I am begging, desperation removing every ounce of shame I have within my cursed body. “Let me save him.”

Something I say reaches Hans. His head lolls over as he looks at me. Weakly, he says, “Let her try,” and my heart breaks in two.

If he dies, I fear I’ll go with him.

Gerrit and Flint pass over the boundary, the former dragging Hans, and I beckon for them to follow me to the house.

Where the dead Banisher lays in the middle of my floor.

“What the fuck?” Gerrit shouts, stumbling backward.

“I know this looks bad, but there is an explanation. Let me save Hans, and I’ll answer all your questions.” I reach out and grab one of Gerrit’s hands. His eyes flash with something akin to remembrance, but it fades quickly. Still, he lays Hans down on the couch and kneels beside him.

A part of him still trusts me.

“How will you do it?”

If only I fucking knew.

But I kneel beside him and run my hands over Hans.

I can feel the buzz of the incomplete curse under my fingertips. I call forth the magic and watch as it rises about his chest, the thin purple strands lightly clinging to the red lines of his life.

“Okay, okay, that’s good. It’s not a strong curse,” I say to myself. “I can do that.”

But the magic flickers in my weakened state, and nerves rush through me.

I need more power.

“Gerrit,” I say gently. “You’re not going to like this because you don’t trust me and think I eat children, but I need some of your blood.”

“What are you going to do with my blood?”

“Drink it.”

He startles, scuttling back from the sofa. “Yeah, fuck that.”

“Do you want me to save your brother?” I snap. “I know you’re scared, but I think your heart tells you you can trust me. Give me your wrist.”

The blonde man swears under his breath but shoves his wrist in front of my face. “I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he grumbles. “You better save him.”

The bite is clinical, almost. Purely to get enough power to be able to save my Complement.

This is not for pleasure.

His rich blood, tasting of currants and saltwater, rushes into my mouth and fills me with power. I don’t drink my fill. It’s not time for that. I get just enough to give me what I need.

The twisted magic solidifies over Hans’s chest, and I slowly untangle the strands. The curse comes easily now that I am powered up. Once it is untangled, Hans’s coloring immediately starts to improve.

I hold the curse in my hands, unsure of what to do with it now. My eyes land on the Banisher, and I push it into his chest, hoping for the best.

Maybe it’ll stick to him even though he’s dead.

A bitch can hope.

I watch the curse weave through his body. As it does, the sigils he drew around my home begin to light up, strands of magic waving from them like broken spiderwebs.

Without delay, I’m on my feet, running through my tiny home and disabling all of the sigils. When I do, my brother’s body begins to seize.

Did I not check to see if he was really dead? That seems like a very important step to miss.

But I snapped his life threads.

Was this some sort of failsafe? Was he being held alive by the magic connecting him to these sigils?

With all of the sigils deactivated, the curse planted in the Banisher’s chest, and Hans healing, the weight of the day catches up to me. I slump into a chair at my table, burying my face in my hands.

“Briar?”

I’m hearing things, obviously. The stress of the day and wishful thinking have me imagining Hans calling my name.

“Witchy.” Oh, cool, I know how to imagine Gerrit, too. The mind never ceases to amaze me.

“Miss Briar.” Imagining the wolf speaking in my brain is strange, but my grief over losing them is so strong it only makes sense that he’s included in it.

A large hand hits my shoulder and pulls me fully upright. “Briar,” Gerrit says softly. “Briar.” A sob catches in his throat, as he spins me around, and I hurl myself into his arms.

“You remember me?” I wail, burying my face in his neck.

“Even when I forgot you, I knew you were missing,” he replies, peppering my face with sweet kisses.

After stealing several desperate, heart-wrenching kisses from my big boy, I shove out of his arms and throw myself across the couch into the lap of a still-recovering Hans. “I thought I lost you forever.” Tears are flowing from my face like waterfalls, and Hans swipes one away as he smiles down at me.

“One of the first things we did was decide to come find the witch of the woods,” he says softly. “We will always return to you.”

When he bends down and captures my mouth, I melt into his arms. The couch sinks beside me, and Gerrit lifts my legs, squeezing close to Hans and cuddling me between them.

Flint rests his head on Hans’s knee. I’m surprised I heard him in my head earlier since it’s been so long without Hans’s blood. He must’ve really needed me to listen to him. I stroke his nose and blow him a kiss.

I sigh happily, snuggling into my guys. I’ve never felt more free.