Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4) (8 page)

“WHAT WAS THAT?” Gwen shrieked once the air dissipated and we materialized in her bedroom. Her eyes shot around the space and finally landed on me.

“We needed a quick escape,” I told her.

“You can teleport?” Her eyebrows scrunched together, and her lips pursed. “Why can I identify strange things like teleporting, but I can’t remember my own middle name?”

“I suspect the spell constraining your memories was designed to only hide things that pertain to you specifically. Since teleportation doesn’t, you remember it.”

I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. Though Ms. Willow hadn’t divulged a cure for Gwen’s memories, she had said enough to make me worry even more. Her mistake was saying Gwen wasn’t right. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what that meant, but would hold my tongue until I was absolutely sure. No need to worry Gwen even more.

“So we got our answers,” Gwen said, coming to sit beside me. “They weren’t the answers we were looking for but…”

I looked over at her to find her staring at her reflection through the mirrored closet doors. Her eyes had that glazed over, zoned-out look. Maybe she wasn’t seeing herself at all but lost to the thoughts taking up space in her head.

“She’s the one who hexed you,” I told her. “Do you really think she would tell us the truth?” I didn’t believe what I was saying, but I felt the need to say it for Gwen’s benefit. If she still had hope then she would continue to search for a solution, and I desperately needed her to keep fighting. I worried that she would just accept that she would never retrieve her memories and just stop trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Having just won her over, I wasn’t ready to let her forget about me, which only contradicted my plans to keep my distance. Detaching from her wasn’t possible. Every time I thought I had things under control, I would take a step in the wrong direction, and it always led me back to her, like that little stunt in the hall at the FPD. I was an addict, and she was my vice. Did they have meetings for idiots like me?
Hi, my name is Dorian Hade and I’m an addict.

“She said I wasn’t right,” Gwen said, her eyes blinking as she refocused on the present. Her head swung toward me. “What did she mean by that?”

My left hand curled into a fist as the coldness within me froze every bone in my body. I had never felt guilty about anything in my life before, but as I looked at Gwen’s questioning eyes, it smacked me right in the chest. All of this was my fault.

“I don’t know,” I lied. “She’s crazy, Gwen. Don’t listen to her.” Everything started clicking into place for me: the unbalanced energy, the pixies, the guy with the hole in his chest, the hospital’s claims. I shot up from the bed and rubbed a hand over my face.

“What’s wrong?”

I stared down at Gwen, and the past replayed through my head, the moment I made my biggest mistake. A rogue had just attacked Gwen at her shop. By the time I made it to Broomsticks, he had already knocked her around quite a bit. She had lost a lot of blood and had trouble focusing. I remember the rage that consumed me when I saw her so helpless, not to mention the anger I felt towards her for not defending herself better. By the time I killed the rogue, Gwen’s life was already slipping from this world. I laid her on the counter, her body broken beneath my hands. When her spirit emerged from her body, my world stopped turning. Everything ceased to exist in that moment. In my very long existence, I had claimed millions of souls but this one was different, this one meant something to me. I forgot about my job. I forgot about what was right. I forgot about what was best for Gwen. In that moment, selfishness reared its ugly head and controlled my actions. I couldn’t send her to the hereafter. I couldn’t accept losing her. And I didn’t. Instead of guiding her to the realm of the dead, I placed her soul back in her body. My number one rule, and I had broken it for her, or maybe for me. I just could not let her go.

An inexplicable feeling overcame me as I realized that everything that was happening was my fault. I knew that whoever paid Ms. Willow to hex Gwen did so because of what I had done. When she said Gwen wasn’t right, she meant that Gwen’s soul was already expired and not meant for this world. I didn’t know if those were her words or her employers, but I intended to find out. Who knew what I had done, and what did this mean for Gwen’s life?

“Dorian?” Gwen’s voice brought me back to the present. She stood and closed the space between us. “What is going through your head? Did you figure something out?”

I stared down at her and, before I could think about what I was doing, my arms were pulling her against my chest. I held her tightly, one hand on the small of her back and one hand cupping the back of her head. Someone was going to try to take her from me again. Whoever it was, they had better pray I did not find them first.

“You’re scaring me,” Gwen said. “What is going on?”

I couldn’t tell her the truth, not until I found a way to fix what I had done. She wouldn’t understand, not now that she couldn’t even remember that day. I told her in New Orleans what I had done, but I also assured her that it wouldn’t have any serious repercussions. At the time, I believed that.

“Nothing,” I told her. “I was just thinking about the unbalanced energy. I think I may know how to fix it.” It made me sick how easily the lie fell from my lips.

“Ms. Willow just told us that I wouldn’t get my memories back and that someone hired her to hex me, and you’re thinking about the energy imbalance?” She ripped herself out of my arms and took a few steps to put space between us. I would let her be pissed at me for this because I knew if she knew the truth, she might hate me.

“It’s nice to see where your priorities are,” she said, turning to face me. “I don’t get you, Dorian. One minute we’re discussing my problem, and the next you either disappear or start thinking about something else. I hate that I have to depend on you and Fiona to fix me, but you guys are my only hope, if I even have one.” Her shoulders sagged, and she crossed her arms. “I just need to know you’re taking this serious.”

I moved toward her, and she tensed, but I didn’t stop until we were so close that our shoes touched. The anger contorting her face smoothed while she looked up at me.

“There is nothing in this world I take more seriously than you.” I fingered a stray strand of her hair, wrapping it around my index finger. “You, cupcake, are mine, and I take that very seriously.” I dropped the stray strand and slid my hand along her neck until all of my fingers were tangled in her ebony hair. Leaning down, I brought our mouths together and captured her bottom lip. At first she didn’t respond, but when my tongue caressed a path along the seam of her lips, her jaw slackened and willingly invited my tongue into her mouth. I groaned at the connection, my grip on her hair tightening as I wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her into me. Her breasts pressed against my front and made me want to rip our clothes off so that I could feel her skin against mine. I wanted to feel her hot breath against my lips as I filled her, hear her wanting moans as I drove into her hard and fast. I wanted to fuck her into oblivion only to bring her back and fuck her again. But none of that could happen, not when the truth of what I had done weighed on my chest, not when she may hate me after finding out that I had ruined everything and had no clue how to fix it—how to fix her.

I HAD BEEN listening to Fiona recount our past for the last two hours. She spoke with Ms. Ozland and learned that spells revolving around the mind were tricky and dangerous. There were spells to take me back in time so that I could see a memory, but since I couldn’t remember anything, someone who shared it with me would have to be with me. Ms. Ozland suggested we try it as a last resort, and that my best chance at regaining my memories was through doing things I usually did in my everyday life. Fiona thought if she told me enough stories about our life and myself that something may click and surface. So far, nada.

While I couldn’t remember the stories she told me, that didn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying hearing them. Fiona told me one where I demonstrated a green thumb potion for a customer at my shop and the plant ended up shooting through my roof. Magic was amazing and it bummed me out that I couldn’t remember it. Though Ms. Willow didn’t have faith that I would regain my mind … I did. I decided to stick to the bright side instead of lose myself to the darkness of negativity. Besides, why would I listen to Ms. Willow?

As Fiona started another story, one revolving around a love potion gone awry, I thought about Dorian. I knew he knew something and wasn’t telling me. What I didn’t know was why. I gripped my bottom lip between my pointer finger and thumb, pulling slightly as I relived that kiss in my bedroom. It had been powerful. After it was over, he took a deep breath and left me standing in my room staring after him. Currently, he stood in the kitchen with his cell phone pressed to his ear. He had one hand against the countertop and stood half leaned over as he spoke in hushed tones to someone.

“Are you listening, Gwen?” Fiona asked. “Any of this ringing any bells?”

I snapped my attention back to her and shook my head. “No, sorry.”

Fiona’s shoulders fell, along with her face. “We could go to your shop,” she suggested. “We’ll grab lunch and head over there. You spent most of your time at that place. Maybe it’ll knock something loose.”

As we stood up, I asked, “Where’s Ethan? Maybe he figured something out.” He was supposed to be searching for spells and information regarding memory loss while we went down to the FPD. That was over three hours ago, and I still hadn’t seen him.

Fiona chewed her lip and looked away from me. “Don’t be mad but…he contacted the NAWC.” I knew by her nervousness that I should have reacted in shock or anger, but since I didn’t remember the NAWC, I just stared at her with uncertainty.

“Okay?” I said, arching my eyebrows. “They’re our government, right? I mean, the
witches’
government.” Even after everything I learned and saw, I still felt silly saying witches and believing I was one.

“Did I hear you right?” Dorian asked. “That little khaki-wearing douchebag ran to the NAWC to tattletale? Man, is he going to be pissed when I take his life before he can cash in all those brownie points.”

Fiona placed her hands on her hips and glared at Dorian. “Big surprise,” she snapped, “something doesn’t go your way and you threaten a life. You don’t like something, you steal a soul.” She stalked toward Dorian and poked a finger in his direction. “Call him a tattletale all you want, but you’re the one acting like a bully.”

“I’m trying to protect Gwen—your best friend. The NAWC has done nothing but screw her over and that little brownnoser you call your boyfriend just ran back to them to tattle. Besides, Micah already contacted them and they haven’t called back with a solution.”

Fiona and Dorian glared at each other while I tried to anticipate their next moves. I silently prayed that Dorian wouldn’t hurt Fiona.

“Ethan is just trying to help,” Fiona shot back. “He didn’t know Micah already contacted the NAWC. They have the best spell casters there and, when he couldn’t find anything, he thought someone at the headquarters would know how to fix Gwen.” She crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “He didn’t run to them to tattletale; he went to find a solution for Gwen. Do you really think I would be okay with him betraying my best friend?”

Dorian shrugged. “It’s not like you’ve been there for her these last couple months, but I have. I am the one who watched over her while you guys stayed in Moon and Holly was scheming, while you were off with Ethan and enjoying yourself. I am the one who protected her from the rogues.” Dorian’s voice rose with each new sentence, his face hardening to marble. “I am the one who was here when you weren’t. I am the one who broke all my rules to save her ass.”

My mouth fell open. “What do you mean: you broke all your rules? What rules?”

Fiona’s body sagged, and she looked down at the floor, defeated. I would talk to her in a minute, but right then, I needed to know what Dorian meant.

Dorian released a ragged breath. “We’ll discuss it later, when there’s not a possibility that it will make its way back to the NAWC.” He shot Fiona a glare, the ominous clouds within his sockets darkening to almost black.

“Stop it,” I chided. “Fiona has done nothing but try to help me since she learned I lost my memories. She’s here spending her time trying to help me fix this.”

“Of course she is,” Dorian retorted, “she’s probably feeding information to Ethan so that he can tell the NAWC.” He pointed a finger at Fiona and said, “If any of those bastards come for her, I’ll have their souls so fast they won’t even realize it until they’re wandering around in the realm of the dead. Think about that before you or Ethan sic the NAWC on Gwen. I am not someone you want to fuck with.”

“Calm down, Dorian,” I said. “I know you think it’s your job to protect me, but it’s not.” When he began to speak, I held up my hand to stop him. “I appreciate you guys helping me figure out this memory thing, but beyond that, I’m responsible for myself. I may not remember our history, but I know you’re taking this boyfriend thing way too seriously—like to the point of being scary possessive.”