the gold bracelet my mommy always wore. “When will I be big enough to wear pretty things?”
My mother drew me into her lap, nuzzling her nose into my hair as she breathed me in. “Soon, my little Nix. Soon you’ll have to wear one just like I do.”
“Can mine be purple? That’s my favorite color.”
She chuckled. “I know it is, but your pretty bracelet will have to be gold just like mine, so it won’t bother your skin.”
“Purple jewelry hurts?” I scrunched my nose and tilted my head, trying to understand.
“No…” My mother hesitated, her voice drawing tighter. “I’ll explain it to you someday, sweetheart. For now, how about we go get some lunch?” She helped me stand and dug through her purse, counting the few precious bills inside. “Come on.” She stood and held out her hand. “We’ll go get your favorite!”
“Cookies?” I grinned, swinging our arms when she took my hand.
“I was thinking pizza. Slightly more filling than cookies, don’t you think?”
“Not if you eat a lot of cookies.” I beamed up at my mom as she shook her head, thoroughly amused.
The memories came faster now, filled with small moments I always wanted to cherish, and then they slowed down, drawing to the end.
“If they ever find you, my precious Nix, you run, okay?” She cradled my face in her hands, imploring me with frantic eyes. I didn’t know what happened, but she was worried. Really worried. “Do you understand?”
“Who, Mommy?” I questioned, trying to make sense of why she was so scared.
“Just promise me.”
I nodded. “I promise,” I whispered.
And then the last memory I had of my mother played behind my closed lids, my lashes wet with tears that ran in rivulets down my face.
The sound of someone banging on the door startled me awake a moment before my mother scrambled from the bed we were sharing. This motel smelled funny. Mommy said it stunk like mothballs, whatever those were, and I wrinkled my nose as I stifled a scream, trying not to breathe too heavily.
“Annika!” she whisper-yelled, motioning for me to scoot to the edge of the bed. I hurried to her, kicking off the covers that tried to tangle around my legs.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are. And believe me, I know you’re in there. I’ve tracked you this far, and I’m not leaving without you. There’s no use hiding now, Phoenix.”
“That voice.” I shook in Damien’s arms. “Michael…”
“Nix, you don’t need to see this.”
“No!” I cried. “Don’t you dare stop it. I need to see what he did to her. I need to know.”
My Gargoyle’s arms tightened around me, his hand squeezing my leg just above my knee like he could hold me together while my heart shattered inside my chest.
My mother shoved me into the bathroom, and tears streamed down her face as she kissed my forehead, holding my cheeks tightly between her hands.
“Lock the door, Annika. Don’t you dare open it unless it’s me, do you understand?”
“Mommy!” I wailed.
“Shh,” she hushed. “Shh, sweetheart. You have to be quiet now. Just like we’ve practiced. And even if it becomes silent, you don’t open the door, remember? Not until you hear Mommy’s voice. Hide, my sweet Nix. Hide just like I’ve taught you.”
“Who is he?” My voice wobbled from the fright, and my fists closed around the golden bracelet she pressed into my hands—her favorite piece of jewelry.
“You’re going to make me do this the hard way, aren’t you, you filthy little bitch? They said you would be an easy catch, but I think they all underestimated you. I won’t be making the same mistake.” The man on the other side of the door sounded possessed, and then the wood splintered as he kicked.
“Put this on and never take it off,” my mother instructed, and her eyes were already glowing gold.
“Her Phoenix,” Damien whispered reverently as he watched the scene, sharing my mind.
The door clicked closed and I locked it, just like Mommy said. Then I crawled into the bathtub and drew the curtain closed. I curled up and rocked, counting the seconds until the door opened and I saw my mother again. Something banged against the wall. I heard her scream, and then I heard a rush as the air warmed like it was summer when it was really fall.
Over and over again I counted, and I couldn’t keep the whimper to myself when I heard my mom cry out in pain.
“How?” she demanded, her voice ragged and broken. “How did you