She’d planted Elizabeth Parsons’ court document in with my father’s belongings. Everything had been a lie. Even her Boston accent had been faked, the voice of her thoughts and memories old fashioned, archaic…nothing like the modern voice in which she spoke to me. No wonder I’d never recognized her thoughts before.
And Marcus’ interest in me had never extended beyond Ivory asking him to arrange a staged attack. She’d forged the note from him, hoping to spook me, hoping I would turn to her so desperate to protect myself that I’d be willing to become a Cruor myself.
She hadn’t counted on my turning to Charles instead. When Ivory’s plan at Club Flesh backfired, she’d risked that Charles might tell me her secret, maybe even hoped he would, to save her the trouble, so I might come to her with acceptance and understanding.
When she realized I’d moved in with Charles, she’d ransacked my house out of anger. And the more time Charles and I spent together, the more anxious she’d become, until eventually she saw him as nothing more than a threat. That was when she tried to kill him—when she accidentally attacked me instead.
Now everything made sense, but I felt more lost than I ever had before. At least I really had only taken memories of myself. The ignisvisum had only shown the times Ivory spent with Elizabeth’s spirit or thinking of her. I struggled to wrap my head around the idea—that Elizabeth’s spirit was mine, too.
It was nearly seven at night by the time I conveyed everything to Paloma and Charles. They tried to comfort me, but I shrugged them off. I was all cried out and too mentally exhausted to languish any longer in the heartache Ivory’s memories had stabbed through every inch of my soul.
“I’m sorry,” Charles said. From the thoughts floating through his mind, he didn’t know what else to say.
Gripping my hand, Paloma offered all the support I needed with the expression on her face.
I managed a smile. “These ‘forever girls’—have you heard of them?”
Paloma stole a glance at Charles. “As far as the Maltorim is concerned, they never existed.”
“And as far as you’re concerned?”
“There is too much evidence to deny their existence. After today, after seeing you obtain the memories of your ancestor—of your own spirit—I can say there is no doubt in my mind that they exist, and that you are one of them. It’s the only thing that would make sense of everything I’ve seen in you.”
“So what does all this mean?”
“Your previous lives are a part of you, even if you don’t remember them. Any abilities you possessed then should be accessible now that you have knowledge of them.”
I let her words sink in, but my mind was still on my once-friend. “I don’t understand why Ivory thought killing Charles would bring her and me together.”
Paloma rose and started another pot of tea. “She was a hurting woman, Sophia. Sometimes people have unhealthy ways of expressing their love. It’s not always easy for someone to be turned while grieving. It can affect them indefinitely.”
I stared as wax dripped down a candle in the center of the table. Visions stolen from Ivory’s memories flashed through my thoughts: flesh wasting away in a fire after Elizabeth’s—after my—hanging. Take her ashes, so that her spirit may live on, Ivory had said.
I blinked, refocusing on Charles. “This is just…hard to accept.”
He’d tried several times over the last hour to approach me—to comfort me—but each time, I’d pushed him away. I needed space, and he’d finally resigned. Now he merely listened, nodding whenever I spoke. Thanks to our blood bond, his emotions were pressing hard against my own, and part of me wanted to surrender to the anger there, as though his anger would be somehow easier to bear than my own weighted hurt.
The new revelations made me feel safe enough to expose my other secrets. I turned to Paloma. “The blood bonds I’ve experienced with Adrian and Charles….”
“Yes?” Paloma asked, nodding for me to continue.
“I saw some of Adrian’s memories…and I’ve felt Charles’ emotions.” I looked at him apologetically. As if it weren’t intrusive enough to have me in his thoughts, how might he feel about me sensing his emotions as well? He offered a weak-but-understanding smile, and I focused back on Paloma. “Is this because I’m a forever girl?”
“I’m not sure, Sophia.” Her eyebrows pulled together. “Not everything in life can be explained.”
Paloma dropped a tea bag into a cream-colored ceramic mug and poured steaming water from the kettle over the top. She set the tea in front of me. The water darkened at the bottom as the steam rose to warm my chin and nose.
Just as I was about to take a sip, Adrian walked in. He set his laptop on the counter and turned to Paloma.
“Relocate Ivory. Charles, Sophia—we must talk.”
My mind froze at his abrupt tone, then slugged forward. Paloma take Ivory? Adrian was supposed to take her.
Paloma seemed calm in response to what was an exceptionally rude way for Adrian to couch his request. She gave one of her soft smiles. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’ve already secured her in your car.”