CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

AFTER WAKING FROM the nightmare, I couldn’t get back to sleep. Honestly, I didn’t want to try. I began to pace around the small house, walking from room to room without a purpose. Each time I entered a new room all I could see were the various traces of life that Clay had left behind when he’d gone on his most recent trip.

A stray wrapper from the chocolates he’d bought home for me was tucked into the side of the sofa, obviously pressed into the gap between the cushions when we’d been overtaken by passion. His favorite cup was washed and back on the shelf; I could see the handle each time I entered the kitchen. The toothbrush he always left at home rested alongside mine in the bathroom. His clothes, washed after his last return home, were folded and stacked up on the dresser, waiting to be put away.

There was only one room I couldn’t enter and strangely it was the one that should have given me hope, and a reason to go on. Instead, the nursery caused me an unlimited amount of grief. If I closed my eyes, I could picture the room in perfect detail, but to enter reminded me of the effort Clay had gone to in order to ensure that our daughter had a comfortable place to live from the moment she was delivered into our arms. It was the strongest reminder of his love for the two of us, love that was now lost if Aiden was right about the history of the valley and the origin of the river’s water.

Eventually, I tried to sleep again, but every time I closed my eyes, the same recurring nightmare assaulted me, so I gave up once more. I was sitting upright on the sofa, staring at the blank TV again when the phone rang. I raced to answer it, hoping that it was Ethan with more information—or better still that it was Clay himself to tell me that it was all a misunderstanding and that he was on his way home.

When I first picked it up, I thought there was no one at the other end. After a moment of silence, I heard a deep breath echo down the line.

“Hello?” I asked again, only to be met once more with heavy breathing.

“Clay?” I risked, hoping with everything I had that he’d found his way to a phone. “Is that you Clay? If it is, please say something.”

There was still near-complete silence from the other end of the phone line. My already frayed nerves fractured at the sound. “If this is someone’s idea of a sick joke, you’ve picked the wrong girl! I’m not someone you should mess with!” I screamed before hanging up on the call.

The next time the phone rang, I expected it to be the same caller, but it was Ethan. I listened desperately as he told me about that day’s search, but my hope fell quickly when I realized he was simply filling me in on the places he’d explored without success. He wasn’t calling to tell me he’d found Clay. I wanted to tell him not to bother calling unless he had some news, but it was clear he needed to feel like he was being useful. I also wasn’t sure I could handle days passing without learning something new.

The next week passed in a slow series of phone calls, visitors, and nightmares. Time dragged on endlessly as I held out hope for news about Clay. It was almost as if every aspect of my life was on hold—even the more mundane tasks like cleaning and shopping seemed beyond my capabilities during the wait.

Even the duty of hosting guests became a troublesome chore, especially because Aiden’s and Fiona’s regular visits were marred by the fact that they insisted on talking about Clay in the past tense. It was as if he were gone forever. I’d expected Fiona to hold onto the same hopes as I did, but instead she appeared to be in mourning for her lost son rather than asking for any information about his possible return. When I confronted her about it after a particularly difficult day, she told me it was because she knew her son was gone. Even though he was physically still alive, every part of him that made him her son—his personality and his memories—were all gone.

“But even if he never gets his memory back, he can still be a good person. The way I understand it he’s a blank slate.”

“I appreciate that,” she said. “However, he could be anywhere, and he might be dangerous. I cannot risk the lives of any fae in my court on a whim, not even for my son. Even if I could, it is not a mandate that I have issued that prohibits us from entering the park.”

“I’m not asking you for help to try to find him. I’m just asking that you don’t give up on him. Even if it’s just for my sake.”

She placed her hand on my arm. “I wish nothing more than for him to come home, but he will do so as a stranger and not the son I have grown to love or the husband you remember. You need to accept this fact or it will only be more difficult with the passing days.”

It killed me to hear her give up on him, and I resolved to not forget him so easily.

The phone rang at least twice a day. One phone call each day was Ethan who called without fail, and each phone call with him progressed in roughly the same manner. He would tell me that he was still looking for Clay and describe his searches for that day. Each new day made my hopes fade a little further. Even after a week, I was beginning to doubt that Ethan would ever find Clay. Day by day, the search area only continued to widen, and Ethan grew wearier and less able to cover the area. If Clay’s survival instincts had indeed taken over, as everyone kept telling me they would, then enough time had passed for him to be able to travel to so many places. On particularly dark days, my mind offered up the fact that the only way Ethan would find Clay in Alaska now would be if he stumbled across a corpse.

Even without finding his way onto a bus, within two days, he could have hiked out of the valley. From there, he could have stumbled across a Good Samaritan who helped him out, and he could almost be home already—if only he knew where home was. If there truly was a master plan, then whoever had arranged to wipe his memories could have sent him on a plane to just about anywhere in America already—possibly even anywhere in the world. It hurt my head and my heart to consider the possibilities of where he might be after a whole week.

Eventually, I began to tell Ethan to come home before we ended each call. There were still things that needed to be organized in the Rain, and through Aiden I’d heard rumors that Ben was struggling to keep the factions at bay. So many operatives seemed to want things back the way they once were. If that happened, I would find myself falling out of favor in a hurry, shifting from being the wife of a Rain operative to residing high on their most wanted list. After all, I was a former phoenix carrying a child who was an unknown, and therefore dangerous, entity to them. Worse, my location was not the closely guarded secret it had once been. It was only the fact that at least two fae guards were at the property at all times that allowed me to get any sleep—as interrupted by nightmares as it was.

The other call I received almost every night happened just as I was settling to sleep. Without fail, it progressed the same way. The call always brought with it the unnerving sound of silence. I continued to vacillate between anger and wistful longing during those calls, hoping it was Clay but realizing it was more likely to be someone from the factions within the Rain trying to unnerve me, simply to prove that nonhumans couldn’t be trusted.

When I mentioned the calls to Ethan, he didn’t know what to make of them any more than I did. To put both our minds at ease, he’d arranged to have them traced. For some reason, though, the number was untraceable. Either that or the people doing the trace didn’t want us to know who it was. I couldn’t be certain which it was, but whatever the reason, it scared me to know that there was nothing I could do to stop the calls or to decipher the intent behind them.

Ten days after he’d run from Ethan, there was still no sign of Clay. Eventually, I had to leave the house. Because it had been almost three weeks since I’d stocked the pantry—the last time I’d done it had been in anticipation of Clay’s return from his previous job—my supplies were starting to run dangerously low. Although I didn’t feel hungry most days, I’d forced myself to eat for the sake of our daughter. Every time I wanted to skip a meal, I’d ask myself what Clay would think if he came home to find me starved and emaciated.

If I asked, I was certain one of the fae guards, Aiden especially, would have gone shopping on my behalf. I didn’t ask though because I needed to get out of the house for a while. I’d locked myself away for too long, clinging to the remnants and memories of Clay hidden all throughout the house. Everywhere I turned, I saw yet another reminder of the part of me that was still missing. After so many sleepless nights, the mementos were beginning to make me lose faith rather than remind me of why I should keep holding out hope.

Climbing into the behemoth Chevy Suburban, I was reminded of when Clay had bought it during one of his home stays, arguing that we needed something that would be large and safe for our daughter after she was born. Ignoring my apprehension, I figured I’d head to Cats Whiskers Country Market. I would be able to purchase enough supplies for another week or two from there and it was only a relatively short drive. Despite my desire to get out of the house, leaving the sanctuary of our walls for the first time since Clay’s disappearance caused an uneasy feeling to twist in my stomach. I worried that while I was gone, I might miss some vital information about Clay’s return.

What if he came here looking for me and thought that I’d left him?

My thoughts made no sense, but I couldn’t help them. By the time I’d backed down the drive to the main road, I was shaking like a leaf.

Stop this! I admonished myself. You need to pull yourself together. Whether Clay returns or not, you have someone else who is relying on you for protection.

If things continued in the same vein, I was at risk of developing agoraphobia and never leaving the house again. I couldn’t allow that to be my fate—or our daughter’s.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, and then I put the car into drive and followed the roads that had quickly become familiar in the months after we’d moved in. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I noticed a red Dodge Ram following closely behind me. It was unusual on the quiet streets to see any cars, so I glanced at the out of state license plate and made a mental note of the number. When I stopped at the market, the car sailed past without slowing or stopping.

Great, I’m getting paranoid again.

Wandering around the small shop, I did my best to ensure that I actually bought something. Even though the food was fresh and probably appealing to other people, it was all just so unappetizing in my grief. Worse, each time I reached for something on the shelves, I had the intense feeling of being watched. I hadn’t experienced anything like it since Caelan, the would-be Shadow person, had been tracking me.

It couldn’t be him though—he was dead. It wasn’t an assumption he was dead either. I’d seen his vacant-eyed stare and the bullet wound through his forehead, moments before I’d almost died myself.

I glanced around the warm, wooden space. Aside from myself, there were only two other customers in the shop: a man dressed in black in the back corner of the store appraising the fishing tackle and a woman near the fresh fruit and vegetables; neither of them turned their attentions my way. The friendly woman behind the counter gave me a polite smile as she caught my eye and my discomfort ramped up another notch. The recognition on her face was something I wasn’t certain I’d ever get used to. I offered her a small, friendly wave and continued with my shopping.

Reaching for a packet of chocolates—the same sort Clay had brought home for me—the sensation of being watched filtered into me again. Risking another glance around the store, I double-checked that no one was looking at me. Even the cashier was busy now, organizing some of the items on the counter.

I shook off the ill feeling and continued to browse around. I stocked up on milk and cold food, bought a selection of fresh muffins and bread that I would be able to freeze, as well as a variety of pre-packaged food that would last in the pantry for at least a week. I couldn’t think of what I might need beyond that time, because it was all still so uncertain. A sliver of hope that I might still need food for two adults still clung to my heart.

When I took my selections up to the counter, the cashier, a dusty-blonde beauty who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me, greeted me with more than a casual interest. It was still unnerving to think that she recognized me so easily.

“You’re the one who bought the house up on Partridgeville Road, right?” she asked.

I wanted to deny it, to try to keep some semblance of privacy, but the knowing look in her eye told me she already knew the answer before she’d asked the question, so I nodded.

“It’s lovely to see you again,” she said. “You should really come into town a little more often. We’re a real friendly bunch once you get to know us.”

I nodded. “My husband and I are really just getting settled in still. We’re newlyweds.” I forced a light giggle to suggest the reason why we might be hiding ourselves away, even though the thought was a reminder of my broken heart.

A shadow of something crossed over her face, but after a quick glance around the shop she suppressed it. “Not that newly obviously,” she laughed, reaching out her hand to stroke my belly.

Not used to other people taking such bold liberties over my body, I flinched away from her touch.

She seemed affronted by my reaction at first, and her smile faltered slightly again, but it soon returned in force. “So how many weeks are you?”

“Umm,” for the first time in my whole pregnancy I actually had to stop and think about how far along I was. My impending due date paled in comparison to Clay’s disappearance. “Just a little over thirty-three weeks.”

“Oh, how exciting. Have you set up all of your appointments with Doctor Galen? He’s the best OBGYN around here.”

I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she’d said he was also the only OBGYN around. “No, I have my own physician back in Manhattan.”

“All the way in the city? Honey, it can’t be good for you or the baby to do all that traveling. You give Doc Galen a call; he’ll look after you. He delivered all of my three.” Knowing the little I did about small-town life, it wouldn’t have come as any sort of shock to me if the good ol’ doctor turned up uninvited on my doorstep by the end of the day.

“It’s really okay, my physician makes house calls. And she’s already aware of my special circumstances.” The moment the words left my mouth, the sensation of being watched enclosed me again.

I glanced around and saw a few more shoppers had come into the store, but still no one appeared to be watching me. I stared at each of the customers in turn, but nothing stood out to me as particularly unusual.

“Special circumstances?” The cashier’s voice drew my attention away from the unnerving sensation creeping up my spine and back to her. She eyed my stomach carefully before glancing around the shop again. She leaned forward to talk quietly to me. “What sort of special circumstances, honey? I’m sure Doc Galen has seen it all.”

I doubt it! I almost snorted. “I just have some family history that requires a bit of special care. Besides, she’s my sister-in-law, so I’m sure you’ll appreciate that I have to see her.”

“Oh, of course, I completely understand that,” the cashier said with a relieved smile. “After all family is family. You’ll have to introduce us one day.”

I nodded, not feeling particularly enthusiastic about the idea but knowing it would be easier to just agree with her.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked after she’d finished ringing up the groceries. “And I mean anything. If it ever gets too much with your husband being away for work so often, you come let me know, and we’ll get someone around to help. Even if it’s just to keep your garden tidy.”

I opened my mouth to ask how she knew Clay was away regularly, but closed it again as I realized that was the problem with small towns. People talked. And when newcomers tried to keep to themselves, people talked even more.

“Thank you,” I said eventually. “I appreciate the offer, but we have some friends who drop in from time to time to take care of that.”

“Oh really?” she said with renewed interest.

Damn it, I thought. I’d just given her something to pass on as gossip during the next town meeting or wherever people like her went to gossip.

“Just my husband’s cousin,” I said, trying to simplify my relationship with Aiden to reduce the amount of gossip my idle words would cause. “He brings my sister-in-law out when she needs to check on me.”

“It’s very sweet that you have such a supportive family. It can’t be easy being alone when you’re pregnant.”

She looked like she was going to say more, but I handed her cash for my purchases and turned away before she could see the tears that burned my eyes. The mere thought that until Clay turned up again, I was facing the reality of not only being alone while I was pregnant but also raising our daughter by myself was enough to reduce me to a sobbing mess in the middle of the store.

Ethan, Aiden, and Fiona would never allow me to be completely alone.

It’s not the same as having my husband by my side though.

Fighting back the tears and forcing a smile, but unable to meet her eyes without losing it again, I grabbed the bags and balanced them on my hips.

“Are you sure you don’t need some help out to your car?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I—I’m fine, thank you.”

“You come back again soon,” she said. “If you like, you can call ahead with your order, most of the locals do it. That way, I can have it all waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Laura,” I said in response, glancing up to read her name tag.

Balancing the bags on my hips, I carried them to the car. When I walked into the parking area, a red Dodge pulled out of a space and drove off down the road toward my house.

Releasing my tight hold on the groceries I had in my arms, I craned my neck to see the license plate.

That’s the car from before. I was almost positive that it was, but I couldn’t see the license number so I couldn’t be one hundred percent certain.

It was only once it had completely left my sight that I concentrated back on the task at hand. When I’d loosened my hold on the bags, a few items had fallen out. I placed all of the bags on the ground and began collecting the items back up again, balancing precariously on my legs so that my heavy stomach didn’t send me toppling forward. I reached for the packet of chocolates that had slipped out and my hand touched it at the same time as another’s.

Lifting my gaze, I found myself face to face with the man from inside the store. There was something a little unusual about him, aside from the fact that he was dressed all in black. His eyes were golden and almost appeared to glow from within their depths. He helped me to gather all of my bags and put them into my car for me. I thanked him for his assistance, but he waved it off before reaching for my arm. He glanced over his shoulder quickly before leaning into me, pressing his mouth close to my cheek. Instinctively I backed away, but I couldn’t move far because of his tight grip on my arm.

“A storm is comin’,” he murmured in a thick Irish accent as he risked another nervous glance over his shoulder. “Watch for th’ Rain.” He spun away and fled the instant the words had left his mouth.

“Wait,” I called after him. “What do you mean?”

I tried to follow him, but after a handful of steps, the air around him began to shimmer with a golden glow. An instant later, he tripped. Falling forward, he reached out his hands as if to land on all fours, but as he moved through the air, he changed shape into that of a small black cat. When he landed on his newly formed paws, he turned around to look up at me and meowed plaintively before dashing off into an alley.

“What the hell?” I asked the empty air around me as I glanced around to see if anyone else had seen the strange occurrence, but there was no one else there.

Trying to understand the strange man and his odd words, I headed back to the SUV. My nerves were shattered, and I just wanted to get home. His statement made me wonder what he knew about the Rain—and what they might be planning.

Are they going to renew their hunt for me? Have Ethan and Ben lost control already?

Between the feeling of being watched, the man who’d become a cat, and the threat he’d issued, one thing was clear, Ethan couldn’t stay in Alaska any longer. As reluctant as he might have been to return without Clay, he needed to be at the Rain headquarters in Manhattan to warn me of any threat to his niece.

During the drive home, I was so busy concentrating on the strange cat-man and what he’d said to me, that I didn’t even notice the red Dodge was behind me again until I pulled into my driveway.

Seeing the same car three times is definitely not a coincidence, even in a small town.

I decided the next time I needed supplies I would have Aiden or one of the guard pick them up for me. There was no way I could risk another trip outside the boundaries of my property—away from the protection of the fae guards and their magic—at least not until after the baby was born and I could leave her in their care. Even though it was likely she’d take after me more than her father, she was a link to Clay, and above everything, it was imperative she was safe.

The first thing I did after pulling up to the house was run inside to call Ethan. Luckily for me, Aiden was on duty guarding the house and followed shortly behind me with the groceries so they weren’t left in the car.

After I explained to Ethan what had happened while I was out shopping, he agreed with my assessment that it was time for him to come home. The moment he said the words, an unexpected pang of sorrow washed through me.

His homecoming might have been my suggestion, but it still hurt to hear him officially give up on finding Clay. It was the moment when I realized that one day soon, I too might have to give up the hope of his homecoming.

Once I’d said goodbye to Ethan, I slid to the floor and rested my head into my hands.

Please, Clay, come home!

Even though I clung to hope like a lifeline, it would have been a lie to say that each day without him was easier than the last. If anything, the closer I drew to my due date the higher my anxiety grew.

Laura’s words at the store haunted me throughout the rest of the day, and nausea roiled through me.

How would I cope on my own with a new baby?