Destiny was about to come full circle.
Gunning it to full throttle, he roared onto the highway. Fifteen minutes later, he coasted into the coven house’s driveway and cut the engine. He yanked off the helmet and was bombarded by the buzzing drone of cicadas. Other than the incessant lullaby of the insects, it seemed eerily quiet compared to yesterday’s festive hoopla. Relief washed over him when he peeked in the garage and spotted the Miata. Unless Clarissa had decided to hitch it, she hadn’t hightailed it out of Dodge. That was a good sign, at least.
He jogged up the porch steps and made his way into the house. Just as he was about to take the stairs to Clarissa’s bedroom, he noticed that her office door was closed. Pretty much the only time she shut it was when she was in there, hiding. Mostly from him. Rerouting his path, he ventured down the hall and rapped on the door.
Her muffled “Come in” leaked through the solid oak, and he twisted the doorknob, stepping inside.
He met her unwavering gaze, his heart plummeting a notch as he took in her cool aloofness. He wasn’t entirely surprised by her reception, but it didn’t ease the sting of his disappointment. “You’ve pulled up the shields.”
She frowned. “Pardon?”
“You can stop pretendin’ you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about. This is you and me, Rissa. We’re done playin’ these games.”
He stalked forward and planted his hands on her desk, looming over her. As expected, she didn’t much like being placed in a position of perceived weakness. After scooping Izzy from her lap and lowering the puppy to the floor, she lurched to her feet. “What the hell were you thinking, bringing up babies?”
“I also brought up us gettin’ married. Get used to it. I’m gonna be talkin’ about those two subjects a lot. So many damn times you’re gonna get sick of it and eventually say yes just to shut me up. Then I can be the happiest fuckin’ bastard on the planet.”
Her eyes welled up and her lips trembled. “Please don’t do this to me.”
“I have to, baby. If I let you be, you’re gonna just keep retreatin’ into that shell. There’s no room in there for me, and I damn well can’t live without you.”
“You have to.” She shoved shaking fingers through her tangled hair. “I’m leaving. And you’re right—there’s no room for you where I’m going.”
He stared at her, confused. When her words finally sank in, he felt like he’d been sucker punched. “What the hell do you mean you’re leaving? For how long?”
“Forever.”
He couldn’t even comprehend the word. Not when it didn’t include him. Them. “You’re the goddamn mistress of this coven—”
“Not anymore. I resigned the position last night. Fiona is the new mistress as of this morning,” she explained calmly, as if she weren’t babbling a stream of nonsense that made the blood pound in his eardrums. “She’s going to need a lot of help adjusting to the newness of her responsibilities. I trust you’ll step up to the plate in the interim.”
“I’m not her familiar. I’m yours.”
“Not anymore. I’m absolving you from our contract.”
The thunderous whoosh of fury and fear exploding in his head was almost deafening. “Like hell you are.”
Her lips formed the sacred words that would break the contract and sever the threads of their witch-familiar link. An anguished roar ripped from his throat, but it was too late. Already he felt the fibers of their connection unraveling. His inner wolf howled, clawing like a desperate, wounded beast, prodding him into action. He leapt around the edge of the desk, intent on getting her to see reason. To not give up on them. He slammed into an invisible wall and stumbled back, falling against another. Clarissa scooted sideways, and he made to follow, only to discover he was boxed in on that side too.
He glared at her. “You can’t whammy me anymore, so you resort to the next best thing? Turnin’ me into a fuckin’ mime in a glass box, only with sound?” Muffled, as it were.
“I didn’t want it to come to this.”
Tears were spilling down her cheeks. Even in his infuriated state, the sight of them still twisted his insides. “Then let me out of here, baby. We’ll get through this. Whatever it takes.”
She inched forward, her eyes so watery they could have passed for miniature green lakes. “My whole life I’ve known what it’s like to want something I can never have. I never wanted to make anyone else feel this way. You deserve to have those babies. Sweet goddess, I wish I could be the one to give you them. But I can’t.” Her fingers aligned with his, the invisible barrier keeping them from truly touching. It was an ironic reflection of their entire existence together. “Please, don’t waste the rest of your life like I’ve done. You’re wonderful and loving and any woman w-would be lucky to have you.”
“There is no other woman for me, Rissa.” He pressed against the shield, cursing it to hell.
“Yes, there is.” Her hands slid away and she backed up.
“This coven won’t survive without you. I won’t survive without you.” He yelled the words, despite knowing they fell on deaf ears. Frustration cramping his chest, he watched as she turned and ran from the office.
Clarissa didn’t know how long it would take her coven sisters to discover Logan or to break the spell for the holding box. Guessing her time was limited at best, she floored the gas pedal until she hit the city limits. She’d given most of her goodbyes, the most painful being the one she’d just fled from. Now she faced the last difficult one.
The Lafayette nursing home came into view and she slowed, waiting for the traffic to clear so she could swing a left into the service drive. Three minutes later, she parked the car and made her way to the entrance. No one was manning the registration counter, so she walked down the corridor to her dad’s room. Rather than snoozing in his bed, he was sitting in the chair in front of the window, staring at the bank of azaleas on the other side. There was something about the stoop of his shoulders and the haggard lines chiseled extra deep in his face today that disturbed her. When he glanced her way, she finally determined what it was.
His eyes weren’t vacant. In fact, she couldn’t recall ever seeing them look so clear. The misery pooled in their depths pinched her heart.
“I remember.”
Oh, sweet goddess. No.
His hands shook like they were palsied, and she waited for him to lash out at her for what she’d done, for what she’d driven him to.
“Rissy…” His voice broke and a cracked sob escaped him. “The hell I’ve sentenced you to. Jesus, it should be me.”
She hurtled forward and dropped to her knees, hugging his frail, trembling frame to her. “Don’t ever say that.”
“It’s true. My stupidity and selfishness brought that monster here. I called it. Not you. All because I wanted to remember her differently. Me differently. Something better than what we really were.”
She blinked at him, slowly digesting his anguished admission. Like pictures being torn from a photo album, flashes of memories came spinning at her. The countless times her father had rambled on and on about the days before her mother left, not once mentioning their twisted past. She’d always just accepted it as a part of his Alzheimer’s. But now…
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she squeezed his hands. “Dad, are you saying that you asked Seven to make you forget?”
He nodded, and she wanted to weep at the pain and wretchedness that would lead him to barter such an existence in return for his soul.