is a fight that’s way too long overdue and there’s no way a sixteen-year-old girl—witch or not—is going to be able to stop it.
“Sure you do,” I taunt, because I can’t stop myself now that I finally have the chance to say just a little bit of what’s been burning in my brain for weeks now. “When we were together, Grace went on and on about how sorry she felt for you. I kept telling her there was no reason to, but you know how softhearted our girl is.”
“My girl,” Jaxon corrects me. “My mate—bond or not.”
His words hit with an accuracy that makes them feel like body blows. The last two and a half weeks have been a living hell for me, and now he’s acting like he’s got all the cards when he’s the one who let this happen to Grace to begin with. It’s shite, absolute and total shite, and I’m sick of listening to him whine about it.
“Your mate? Oh, right. That must be why you protected her so well that there’s not even a bond anymore.”
His hands clench into fists. “You’re a real bastard, you know that, right?”
“And you’re a pathetic child who can’t protect himself, let alone anyone else.”
“You’re really going to come at me with that?” he demands incredulously. “Can we discuss—just for a minute—who the fuck I was trying to protect Grace from last semester? Oh, right. Your homicidal ex-girlfriend who wanted to sacrifice her to bring you back.”
Guilt slams through me all over again, because he’s right. This is all my fault. Not because I planned it, but because I couldn’t stop it.
So here we are. Lia’s dead, Grace is in the ground, and Jaxon—
“You guys!” This time Macy’s voice is more forceful when she tries to get our attention. “Look.”
The sleet is letting up, and Jaxon and I turn as one, just in time to see Grace’s body finish absorbing one of the stones my brother laid on her chest.
“What’s happening?” Jaxon asks, eyes wide and voice just a little awed.
“I’m not sure,” Macy answers. “But that’s the third one she’s absorbed in the last two minutes.”
“Really?” I watch as another stone starts to quiver and then gradually sinks into her flesh.
Our fight forgotten, Jaxon and I stand with Macy for long minutes while Grace slowly, slowly, slowly absorbs every stone, every rock, every pebble that Jaxon laid over her—hundreds of small shards sinking into every inch of her flesh, one by one by one.
When it’s over, when every single speck of granite has been absorbed into her body, we stand over her, waiting…for a sign, for a breath, for something that proves she’s alive.
Something that proves that this last-ditch desperation on my part actually worked.
Several nerve-racking seconds pass where nothing happens. And then, just when Jaxon starts cursing and I’m about to give up, Grace’s eyelids flicker open. It’s all I can do not to put my head down and sob in relief.
“Oh my God!” Macy’s hand flies up to cover her mouth as shock rockets through us all. “Grace! Grace, are you okay?”
Grace doesn’t answer, but as Jaxon races to sit beside her head, she smiles up at him.
“You’re okay?” he asks, and I’ve never heard such joy in my younger brother’s voice in our lives.
“I—” Her voice cracks and she coughs, licks her lips.
“Here!” Macy reaches into her ubiquitous backpack and pulls out a bottle of water that she hands to Jaxon.
He opens it, then helps Grace sit up in her bed of granite so that she can take a sip.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, slowly walking to the other side and crouching down beside her.
“Okay, I think.” She coughs a little more, then pauses like she’s taking inventory of herself. “Pretty good, actually. I think I’m…okay.”
This time when she takes a deep breath, she doesn’t cough.
“Do you remember what happened?” Macy asks, excitement and concern warring on her face.
Grace thinks and then says, “I do, yeah.”
And just like that, my hands are shaking, when they never shake. I can’t figure out what to do with them, so I shove them in my pockets. And wait.
“I won the game and Cyrus bit me. You guys brought me here and—” She turns to me. “Hudson, thank you. Thank you so much.”
Disappointment racks me, but I ignore it. I’m certainly used to it by now, and—on the positive side—at least my hands aren’t trembling anymore. So what if she remembers the facts of what happened today and nothing