Page 20 of Shadow & Stars (Demon Heart #3)

20

XAVIER

N ursing a cup of tea on the salmon pink sofa opposite two matching armchairs, I began my story.

Grandmother and grandson listened intently, the latter never letting his Synth drop. In these days, the synthetic magic remained at its strongest, not weakening as it would in ten years.

Ironically, witches would one day live in a world without magic. Or at least diminished magic. Maybe even having to rely on Trace like the warlocks.

At the end of my tale, which included me revealing my demon nature and details on Roman’s device, they took a few minutes to process the information. A cuckoo clock ticked the seconds by, my apprehension building with each second.

Had I revealed too much? What if they called the ADU and I got banished to the demon realm by one of those talismans? What would I do then?

June sipped her tea.

Roman stared at me with an open mouth.

“You’ll catch flies like that,” his grandmother told him, breaking the silence.

The young witch closed his mouth.

I sighed. “What are you both thinking?”

Roman blinked, then rolled his shoulders. “That this is seriously weird.”

“I know.”

“And having a demon in my house was an idiot move.”

June put her teacup down, remaining calm. “There is a magical device inside his chest?”

“Yes,” I answered, flexing my slightly shaky fingers.

Roman released a heavy sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “I don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He didn’t look up, shaking his head.

“This is…” June didn’t finish, getting up and shuffling out of the room.

I stood. “I?—”

“Leave her,” Roman said, now looking at me. His amber eyes flared with danger. “Give her time.”

I sat back down. “I’m sorry I had to tell you this.”

He sniffed, leaning back in his chair. “So, I got shot by the queen?” His Synth magic finally disappeared from his hands.

“You did.”

“And I work for her?”

“You do. You did.”

“And you’re my boyfriend?” He held up a hand, stopping my answer with a scrunched-up expression. “Don’t go there. I don’t want to think about it. Gross.”

“Understood.”

“Fuck.” He crossed his legs, slouching. “This is nuts.”

I walked on dangerous ground here. I couldn’t stop thinking about any permanent damage I may have caused the main timeline.

“Fuck,” Roman said again.

I drew deep breaths, tempering my inner panic.

“We have to use the device.”

A sharp jolt of surprise forced me to my feet. “No.”

He stood too. “Why not?” He rubbed the area around his heart. “What else can we do? I mean, you shouldn’t be here. You should be in the other time. I don’t know anything about time travel, but I know enough to see it’s fucked up.”

“You really don’t want any banana bread for a while, do you?” June said, returning with a tray. On it sat a bottle of brandy and two tumbler glasses.

Roman’s cheeks flushed. “Curse my mouth.”

His grandmother chuckled. “I may forgive you under these circumstances.”

The witch clasped his hands together as if in prayer. “Pretty please.”

“Pending, my dear.”

He beamed a smile at her as he sat back down. “Cheers. You’re the best.”

“Brandy?” June asked.

“Let me help you with that.” I took the tray, placing it on the table between her and Roman. There were crossword puzzle books piled up under it, making me smile.

“That’s very kind,” she said. “How about one for our nerves?”

“Yes, please.”

She poured us both a drink. Roman didn’t even mention himself. He was underage, and his grandmother had probably instilled that into him. Also, he’d told me several times that he hated brandy.

June returned to her seat and took a sip. “Ah. Very much needed.”

I sipped mine, enjoying the momentary release the alcoholic burn granted me.

“That device has to be a last resort,” she said. “We are in a time with magic. From what I can gather, the rules are all over the place.” She sipped more brandy. “We have to do what we can. But not at the expense of my grandson.” That last sentence came with a steel edge.

“Of course,” I replied.

Shadows swam across her features, the warm seas hiding a forceful maternal power. “I’d like to pay this fairy a visit. Give her a piece of my mind. And then find the demon. Butterfly, is it? I hate him already. I hate her. I hate the surgeon who gave Roman this device, Dr. James. I know that might be wrong, seeing as she was coerced, but I love this boy.” She nodded at Roman. “Unconditionally, nothing else like it. If you hurt him, you get my wrath.” She finished her drink, her hands shaking.

Roman reached over, taking her hand. “Easy, Grandma.” His eyes were glistening.

She gave his hand a squeeze, facing me. “Promise me you take good care of him in the future. That you always will.”

“Fiercely.”

Roman winced. “Please stop.”

“Good. I’m glad. I might not remember this if we fix things, but at least…”

The penny dropped then, as humans liked to say. June was dead in my present, and Roman struggled with his grief. Her death brought him to a changing point, everything he’d come to be and understand as The Shadow unraveling. And I’d played a part in that.

“No…” Roman whispered. “No.” It hit him, too. “Don’t want to think about it. You can’t be gone. You can never be gone.”

“One day, I will be,” his grandmother responded softly. “And you won’t be alone.”

He looked at me, wiping at his eyes with a tissue. “You mentioned my best friend. Darcy, right?”

“Yes. A wonderful friend.”

“See? You are building a new family,” June contributed. “ Have built. Will build.” She poured another brandy. “My poor brain.”

Tears rolled down Roman’s cheeks. “I don’t want a new family. I want you.”

June smiled so sweetly my hearts throbbed. I’d turned their lives upside down this evening, bringing future grief into their home.

“You will always have me, darling. Even when I’m gone, I’ll always be with you.”

He sniffled.

“I’m so proud of you, Roman.”

He released her hand, getting to his feet. “Even if I’m destined to become a killer?” He began pacing. “A fucking murderer? Shit.” He crossed his arms. “I can stop it, right? I have the power of time in my chest. I can fix the bad stuff then correct the killing part. I’m not an assassin. That’s not who I am. I know I can be hardcore at times, but not that hardcore.” He stopped pacing, giving me a direct, rather terrifying look. “Why?”

“I—”

“You don’t know why I go down that path,” he interrupted. “Stupid question. Stupid, stupid question.” The pacing continued. “I have to stop myself. I have to?—”

The doorbell rang.

Fetching tissue from a purple box, Roman dried his eyes. “I’ll get it.”

June smiled at me, swirling the brandy in her glass.

“I’m really sorry,” I said, guilt laying heavy in the pit of my stomach.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“What the fuck?” Roman yelled.

At that moment, I saw the teenage version of the witch from the point of view of the doorstep.

“Who are you?” I asked him, sounding gruff.

Roman stared at me.

Me?

I was here.

Standing in the doorway.