“Did you find anything?”
The sound of Crowe’s voice made me jump a mile, and the notebook slid out of my lap. I retrieved it from the floor and handed it over. “Not yet. But look at the last page.”
He flipped to the back and locked his jaw, brows furrowed deeply.
“This is my dad’s handwriting.”
“I know. Turn the page.”
He did. When the words settled in, he collapsed on the end of the bed next to me, his arms heavy in his lap, the notebook flopping open on his knee. “The other day, Jane told me what he’d done, how he fooled her into touching him so he’d know when he was going to die. It made so much sense.” He ran a hand through his hair. “He was acting so strange before last year’s festival. Right before we left, he told me I was about to be made president.” He swallowed and looked out the window. “He told me I’d have to do whatever it took to protect the club.”
“But he didn’t tell you…”
“That he was about to die?” Crowe shook his head. “I thought he was going to leave like your dad did or something. I was so angry at him. But I was also determined to do as he said, for the sake of the Devils.” He turned and met my gaze. “I couldn’t afford to think of anything else,” he added quietly.
And that was it. The explanation for what happened between us. No apology, no request for forgiveness, but I understood it. This was why he’d pushed me away. No time for distractions.
Apparently, that’s all I was. “Did he tell you what Henry Delacroix’s secret was?” I asked in a husky voice.
“No. He didn’t even mention it. But I’ll bet his little brother Killian was right at the center of it.”
We sat there in silence for a few long moments. “What now?” I finally asked.
“Do you have what you need to cast the spell?”
“No. I found that first.”
He got to his feet, scanned the room, and grabbed the little stuffed bear propped against Alex’s pillows. “Use this.” He looked at the notebook lying discarded on the bed. “Now I’m even more worried about what Killian is up to. He must be behind Alex’s disappearance.”
“And if I find her?”
“If you find her, then we’ll go get her. And if someone took her by force, I’ll murder them. Not with magic. With my bare hands.”
“What if she’s just… holed up with someone?”
His eyes narrowed. “Like that prospect?”
I swallowed hard. “No idea.” I wasn’t sure what to think. I was imagining Darek and Alex wrapped around each other, and although it didn’t make me happy, it also didn’t fill me with jealous rage the way seeing Crowe with Katrina had.
I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not.
“Jemmie,” Crowe said impatiently. “Sometime today, please.”
I slid from the bed to the floor and sat cross-legged, the stuffed animal in my lap. My dad had tried to teach me a locator spell when I was little, and of course the magic had overwhelmed my senses. I understood the mechanics of the spell, but I’d never successfully cast one. It should be easy for someone with my kind of magic, but here I was, my upper lip beaded with sweat, my gut rolling with anxiety over what was about to happen.
A warm hand closed over mine, and I looked up to see Crowe on the floor next to me. “When my dad first taught me to cast, I didn’t want to,” he said. “I was scared. I had so much venemon inside of me that it was almost like it was trying to tear its way out.”
I knew Crowe was crazy-powerful, but I’d never considered what it must have felt like as a child, to discover that power, to know what a great burden and responsibility it was to possess it.
“How did you get over it?” I asked.
“I accepted it. And then I practiced.”
I groaned. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It wasn’t. My hands used to shake so badly that I couldn’t control what was happening. One time I accidentally broke my mom’s leg because she was hanging laundry nearby. My dad healed her, but…” He shook his head at the memory. “All I’m trying to say is that you can learn to do this if you just work at it.”
“You don’t understand,” I whispered.
“Then make me.”
I hung my head. “It would change everything.” He’d push harder to convince me to move away from Hawthorne. He’d—
His fingers tipped my chin up. “Try me, Jem. I know we haven’t been close lately, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know you. Whatever’s holding you back, you can overcome it. And I’ll help however you need me to.”
I looked up into his dark eyes, and I felt his gaze inside me, picking the locks I’d clamped onto all my secrets. Could he really help? Or, at least, understand? “I… can feel magic.”
His brow furrowed. “We can all feel it.”
“No, that’s not what I’m talking about. When I’m around magic, I just… I can smell it. And see it. The magic itself, not the effects of it.” I huffed. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Try. Because I don’t—”
“Venemon magic is gold. It loops out of you so thick sometimes that I can’t see past it. It smells like—” My gaze flicked to his and away. “Wood smoke. Honey. Yours is muskier than Alex’s. Deeper. It hangs in the air around you like glitter sometimes. Even when you’re not casting.”
He was so quiet that I glanced at him again and found him staring. “No shit?” he whispered.
“No shit,” I said ruefully. “Hardy’s invictus magic is orange and smells like cloves. Terra magic is pinkish. Cinnamon, flowers, grass, depending on the person and the charm. Do I need to go on?”
“Why wouldn’t you tell anyone about this? That kind of power would be useful. It makes you invaluable.”
“Yeah, well, it also makes me dizzy and sick, especially when I’m around a lot of kindled. Sometimes I feel like it’s suffocating me.” I swallowed hard. “Sometimes I feel like it’s driving me crazy. It’s too much. I can’t take it. It’s like an illness with no cure.”
“And that’s why you drink. You’re trying to self-medicate.”
I winced and bowed my head.
“I still don’t get why you’ve kept this a secret. You’re close to your mom—why haven’t you told her?”
“That’s complicated,” I said. “But mostly I don’t want to give her one more thing to worry about.” Or to feel helpless about. I didn’t want to rub her face in her own powerlessness, not after what Dad had put her through.
“What about your dad, though? Haven’t you—”
“I can’t believe you’re even asking me about him. He left me, Crowe.”
“But Alex. She loves you—”
“Exactly!” I threw my hands up and let them fall into my lap. “But there’s nothing she or anyone can do, so why make her worry about it? It would change the way she looks at me, and that would only feel worse.”
“So you’ve shut out the people who love you most.”
“Because I keep hoping it’ll go away! Because no one else has this problem. I just want to be a part of our community, Crowe. But I don’t fit, and I hate it.” Tears stung my eyes. “I just want to be normal. And you said it yourself last night—I don’t belong.”
He cursed under his breath. “I was angry. And worried about you. I didn’t understand any of this. In my defense, that’s because you’re damn good at keeping a secret.”
“I don’t want people to look at me like I’m defective.” I let out a shuddery sigh and laid myself bare. “Especially you.”
“Look me in the eye.” His voice was so authoritative that I obeyed. His eyes captured mine and refused to let go. “We’ve all got problems, Jemmie. We’ve all got sore spots and flaws and shit from our past and mistakes we’re still dealing with. You want me to tell you you’re perfect? I can’t. But I can tell you this: You’re brave enough to push through this. You’re strong enough not to let it hold you back. And that’s what actually matters.”
He said this with complete certainty, and it reminded me of Alex. But while her faith in me was warm and comforting, his was both exhilarating and terrifying. It felt like flying. And I was afraid of crashing and burning. “Please keep this between us.”
“It’s not my story to tell. You’ll do it when you’re ready.”