I meet Lou Ann for lunch at a sandwich shop uptown. She’s already placed her order when I arrive (which doesn’t surprise me as she waits for no one), and she’s biting into her sandwich when I walk inside. A bit of avocado is on the corner of her lip as I approach, and she wipes it with a napkin, her eyes expanding when she sees me.
“Mmm, sorry!” she says, mouth full. “I didn’t eat this morning, too busy with emails and calls, so I’m starving! And speaking of, why haven’t you been picking up your phone, missy?”
“Oh, yeah, it broke and I had to wait for a replacement.” The lie slips out without so much as a thought. I’m not usually one to flat out lie, so this lie takes me a little by surprise. Maybe some of Vakeeli has rubbed off on me. “But it was nice not having my phone for a few days.”
“I’m sure it was, yes, but you know I always need you on call, Willow. Do you know Townsend reached out to us again?
“Did they?”
“Yes!” Her green eyes light up. “They want us to host another event for them next fall! It’s also for charity, and they want it to be some kind of costume party, so we can have a lot of fun with this. Did you bring a notepad?”
“I did, yes,” I tell her, pulling one out of my bag, along with a pen.
“Good. Of course, we can always work on this at the office, but I figured why not eat and chat, make it fun?” She beams, flashing her perfect white teeth, and I smile back. She bites into her sandwich again, and this time some avocado drips onto the collar of her black suit. I start to tell her, but she talks again, cutting me off. “We received a lot of praise for the cruise,” she says. “That really was a wonderful idea. I’d love to hear what you have in mind for a costume event. Did you get the email I forwarded?”
“I did, yes.” I open my phone and go to my inbox.
“Great. So, as you can see, they’re asking for a…” Lou Ann continues talking, but her words become a buzz when I feel a cool draft float past me. A chill rides down my spine as the sandwich shop slowly disappears. Dark shelves replace the industrial ones of the shop, filled to the brim with books. The floors turn black. A spiky fan spins above me, and a fire is going in an oversized, familiar fireplace. I gasp as a man walks past me, muttering under his breath. It’s Caz. I’m in his home office.
I watch him from an odd angle, one close to the ground as he paces back and forth. He’s talking to himself, but I’m not sure what about, and I try and shake myself out of whatever trance I’m in, but it doesn’t work.
I feel myself moving closer to him, and then I stop next to him, facing his legs. Caz sighs and bends down, and I’m staring deeply into his blue eyes. My heart beats harder, faster.
“What is it, eh, girl?” he asks, stroking the top of my head. “You miss your bonded mum? Is that it?”
What?
Caz blows a breath, still stroking the top of my head, and then I realize he’s not talking to me. He’s talking to someone else, or something, rather. Judging by the panting and whining, and the white fur on the paw, I’m assuming it’s Silvera.
“I’m going to tell you something.” He scratches behind one of her ears. “I think she was meant to stay. It hurts more without her, and none of the elixirs are working.” He pauses, rubbing the center of his chest, as if it’ll wipe some of the pain away. “Too bad I can’t get her back. Suppose I’ll have to live the rest of my life like this.”
He drops his head, staring at the floor, and I have the urge to reach out to him, but when he pulls away and leaves the room, I’m sucked back to reality.
“Willow?” Pale fingers snap in my face. “Willow, are you okay?”
I blink rapidly, putting my focus on Lou Ann.
She smiles, sipping her drink. “Where’d you go?” she teases.
“Oh—I, um…” I look around the sandwich shop. All is the same, but I still feel cold. I try not to shiver as I focus on Lou Ann. “Sorry. Let’s, um…let’s do a masquerade. It’s classy and never goes out of style.” I push out of my chair. “Would you excuse me for a second? Need to run to the ladies’ room.”
I leave the table before Lou Ann can get another word in and race around the corner to the bathrooms. I burst into one of the stalls and slam it closed behind me, then take a moment to catch my breath.
I can see what he’s doing through Silvera? That changes everything. Sure, I can’t hear him, and maybe he’s purposely blocking me out so that I can’t hear a thing, and so that he can’t hear me either, but Silvera is still there, and we’re still connected. I close my eyes, trying to find my way back to her. I think of her—her soft fur, her silver eyes, and then I feel her.
She sits up in Caz’s office.
Silvera. Can you hear me?
She whimpers, looking around the office. I can’t control her, but I’m seeing everything from her viewpoint.
“Holy shit, this is incredible.”
Hey, girl. It’s me. I try to calm her—I feel her heart racing; she’s startled.
I need you to do me a favor. Keep an eye on Caz. Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.
As if she understands, she walks out of the office and into the kitchen where Caz is standing, gripping the edge of the counter. His knuckles are white from holding it so tightly. She walks around him and jumps on the countertop, and Caz lets go of the counter with a deep frown.
“Oi! Get your ass off my counters!” he shouts.
Silvera defies him, sitting instead and staring at him. From her eyes, I see red pills on the counter, and there are black pills next to them. I’ve never seen the black ones before. What are they for? Silvera makes a noise of disapproval, and I feel a tightness in my gut, like something isn’t right. Silvera moves a paw, swiping the black pills onto the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” he snaps, watching the pills clatter. “Get the hell off my counter, Silvera,” Caz warns, pointing a stern finger at the floor.
She can’t keep an eye on him for me if she gets kicked out. And I have a feeling he’ll send her off in a heartbeat if she doesn’t listen, so I say, “Down, Silvera.”
Silvera listens to me, jumping off the counter and sitting on the black pills. They’re clearly no good for him, and she knows this.
“Silvera, move,” he commands, but she doesn’t listen.
“For the love of Vakeeli,” he gripes. “You’re just like your owner! I tell you one little thing about me, and you make yourself too fucking comfortable.” Caz collects what’s left of the red pills and shoves them into a container. He then leaves the kitchen, and I smile when Silvera follows him, but she doesn’t get the chance to follow him for long. Cerberus pops up as Caz storms up the stairs, growling at her. Silvera growls back, but Cerberus stands his ground, raising his large, bushy head. He won’t let her pass. He knows Caz wants to be alone.
“Damn it,” I whisper. Leave him for now, girl.
Silvera retreats, but not without purposely whacking her tail in Cerberus’ face as she goes.
I open my eyes, bringing myself back to the present. Something is eating at Caz, and it’s not just my leaving. No one is around to watch him, to help him, and I have a feeling he wants it to be that way.
I saw him with that gun the day I left, the way he pointed it at himself, the way his face melted, as if he could absolve himself of all weakness and sin if he pulled that trigger. He wanted that gun to take away whatever he was feeling, but why?
Why is he so broken?
What is he running away from?
