71: Novis Tempus

No matter how plush the bed is, it doesn’t help in easing the ache in my bones. I’m a wreck. The little bit that I can open my eyes to look myself over show me how covered in bruises I am. I can only imagine how the parts I can’t see look.

It takes a moment before I get past the pain to remember where I am. To remember what happened. Gabriel. Monty. Felix...Caleb. I toss the blanket off to reveal my pantless legs with scabbed knees stained with dry blood. Where the hell are my pants? Where the hell is my shirt?

Across the room, a robe rests on the back of a chair. Good enough. I swing my legs over the bed, but instantly regret the moment I slide off the edge. My legs nearly buckle beneath me. If there’s a chance to get out, I have to take it. I have to walk out of here on my own two feet.

The walk from the bed to the chair is rough. The walk from the chair to the door is even more rough. But the walk from the door, down the stairs and following the echo of voices is the worst. Muscles that shouldn’t clench, tighten. Bones that shouldn’t grind, throb. My body isn’t the only thing protesting. The floor seems to move beneath my feet. The hall twists like a tunnel in a fun house. I walk in a swayed zig zag line through the manor.

I recognize the voice before I see it. Brooklyn.

I stumble into the room and all eyes turn to me.

“That the hell are you doing out of bed?” Brooklyn snaps at me.

I take in the large, bubbling pot in front of her. The massive collection of ingredients littering the table. Vials and bottles, sprigs of weeds and insects, open books piled three deep. “What,” I try again, forcing the words to come out louder, “what are you doing?” My throat burns as I try to use it.

“What am I doing? I’m stuck doing something to benefit your sorry ass. If it were up to me, I would’ve let you die in the street.” Brooklynn gives a snobby smile and the two other coven members that flank her side follow suit.

But then, their eyes dash behind me and their faces go flat. That cockiness that surrounds Brooklyn quickly disappears.

“That’s why nothing is ever up to you, Booklynn.” Gabriel says from right behind me. I can feel the coolness of fingers as he reaches for me before he actually touches me.

I flinch away, but Gabriel doesn’t take my loathing into consideration, because he grabs me by the arms taking some of my weight off my feet as he leans me into him. “You should be in bed.”

I shake myself from his grasp, standing my ground, shaky ground, but still my ground. “Not until someone explains what you’re up to.” The words sound strong in my head, but in actuality they're nothing but a harsh whisper. As I stare between the four of them, I take a sideways dive. I barely catch myself on the corner of the table. I didn’t realize I was moving until I almost went down.

“Oh, for fucks sake, just tell her. It’s not like she’s going to remember anyways.” Brooklyn hisses.

“Shut. Up.” Gabriel says back with just as much menace in his voice. He places his arms back around me, steadying me on my feet. He tries to vere me away, but I plant my feet. “What are you doing?” He asks.

I don’t know why I find it so important. There’s just this pit in my stomach that tells me it’s not good and I have to know what it is.

“Novis Tempus.” He says with his eyes on the floor.

The words sink in immediately. I’m not an idiot. I know some latin. “Reversing time?” It was an old spell, an extremely tricky spell that shouldn’t be messed with by mediocre witches, such as Brooklynn. She could blow us up, make a tear in time and space. “How?" I’m not even sure you can find some of the ingredients around here. “And you trust her to do it?”

“You fucking bitch.” Brooklyn hisses. The other two touch her arm to calm her. “Anything is possible with a little old magic.” Brooklyn wiggles a bottle in front of me with narrowed eyes.. The same bottle Gabriel had when he poured it over the threshold and destroyed my repellant. Water from the spring?

His hands tighten on me almost painfully before he sharply steers me out of the room. My head snaps back to eyeball Brooklynn. She flashes me a conniving smile. I’m sure she’s enjoying this. It’s a second chance for her too.

The minute the door slams shut behind us, I turn on him. I catch him run his hands through his hair frustrated with having to reveal something. “Why?” I mutter.

“Why?” He snaps clearly frustrated at my stupidness. “I have a chance to make things right, to not have you look at me like I’m a monster...to save our child.”

Save our child? My hands go to my stomach. There’s no knowing for sure, at least I can’t know for sure. It’s not like I was that far along, but Gabriel and his vampire senses would be able to tell. Felix got at least one thing he wanted.

Gabriel rushes to my side taking my hands in his. “I can fix this.” He pleads.

I rip my hands out of his and go to march away, but I end up stumbling on my feet instead, barely catching myself on the bed. “I don’t want it fixed. I-I-I just want it to end.” A tear rolls over my lower lid and slides down my cheek. Why couldn’t he find some other witch? Why me?

“So do I. I can make all that anger and hate go away. I can do better next time. I’ll prove it to you.”

My brain being kicked and slammed into walls is a little slow to understand his unsaid words. Hell, Brooklyn flat out said it to my face and it soared right over my head. He can fix this. He can make my anger go away. He’ll remember everything, but I won’t. The spell will erase everything.

We’ll go back to the beginning where I’m oblivious to my vampire stalker that I fell hard for and the hundreds of innocent people who died because of it.

“I can’t let you do that.” I scream, but it really is nothing more than my average talking voice. My throat burns from the strain of overuse. My legs disobey me as I dash to the door. I nearly collapse right into Gabriel’s waiting arms.

“And I can’t let you do that. She’ll be done soon.” He gently pushes me back into the room. “Please, lay down. Don’t make me make you.” The threat doesn’t hold any merit. He wouldn’t...or maybe he would.

Brooklyn’s words rumble around in my head. I won’t remember a thing.

I do as he says. I bite my lip to hold back a whimper that so desperately wants to escape through my clenched teeth as I use my sore limbs to crawl into bed not taking my eyes off of him. The thought of him sliding in beside me causes my aching muscles to tighten, but I'm not not sure if it's in revulsion or anticipation.

Thankfully, he drops into the chair that the robe was draped over. His eyes don’t leave me either. They’re the last thing I see before my own eyes close. There’s the faint touch of lips to my forehead, but I can’t be sure if it’s real or I imagined it.