“Lyrik thinks that whatever pushed Esme past the barriers gave him enough time to slip in and out. Mi, he sent Bryelle,” Marcus announces, his face unreadable as he tries to control his anger.
“What did he say?” I ask tentatively, stepping toward my brother slowly as he tenses then brings forward a box he is holding by his side. I didn’t notice he was carrying it.
“He sent you a gift, but, Micah, maybe we should—”
“Give it to me.” I hold out my hands and a sense of foreboding makes my stomach queasy. I know this is nothing good. Maybe Marcus is right to say I shouldn’t open it, but I’m not afraid. Marcus hands me the box slowly, as if it will blow up at any moment. I can almost feel the proverbial clock ticking.
The white box has a black satin bow neatly tied in place. It isn’t a big box, I don’t anticipate something vicious jumping out at us, so I quickly pull it. The lid pops open as if there is a hinge or spring mechanism attached. I gag as the smell assaults me first. Covering my mouth and nose with my hand, I peer inside. I grimace in recognition as all the snacking Trys and I did tonight threatens to show itself on the hospital floor.
I take a deep breath. “No,” I say as I drop the box and turn away to put some space between me and it.
“What’s in the box, Mi? What’s in the box?” Marcus asks, but I can’t reply. A few seconds later I hear him retching behind me.
“What the fuck?!” Rodyn shouts.
I can hear my brother yelling in anger, but it all becomes background noise. I knew the minute I saw the wedding ring. Michael sent me my mother’s hand. We might not be on the best of terms; I may have wanted her to suffer, I was angry and hurt by her actions. Both God and my dad told me on the day of his memorial, she is a victim of Michael’s, just like the other Guardians. Yes, I want to know why she thought my death was better than me living my life. I want to demand answers, but she doesn’t deserve this. Torture, maiming, mutilation. What else has he done to her? If Bishop was here, there would be no talking him down from the retribution he would want to exact.
No, this is between Michael and me. He had my dad killed, and now who knows what state my mother is in. Death might be a mercy if her hand being delivered on a silver platter is any indication of her treatment. He wants to draw me out— he’s done it. It’s time to end this. He is a tyrant. God’s General needs to be knocked down a peg. No, not knocked down. No, this is a good old-fashioned blood for blood. He owes me his life, and I’m coming for payment.
“What are we going to do, Mi? Marcus demands. “He left a note inside. He’s going to keep cutting pieces of her off until you surrender yourself.”
I don’t reply and I straighten and turn. All of them are watching me warily. If I wasn’t so damn sad on the inside, I may have rolled my eyes and told them to stop looking at me as if I am going to fall to pieces. I don’t have time for that.
Instead, I focus on the now. “I am going to see Esme and see if I can help her first. Then tomorrow, we take the fight to Michael.” I walk past them all and they let me go. But I don’t get far as Ms. Bertha is running down the hallway, wringing her hands nervously.
“Ms. Bertha, what’s wrong?” Ty, Trys and Rodyn speak together, the concern in their voices for the woman who took care of them when their crazy ass mother didn’t warms my heart.
“They’re gone,” she says.
“What do you mean, Bertha?” Professor Adder asks as he takes off in a jog down the hall and I follow.
“Ms. Margaret had a theory a few minutes ago and we tested Miss Blu’s blood. Now, I know you all test your blood in Professor Star’s class, but she doesn’t test for all the species markers. Hence why Miss Jones’s was missed.” I stop as we reach the open door of Esme’s room to find it empty. I turn my attention to Ms. Bertha.
“What are you saying?” I ask her calmly.
“I’m saying, Miss Jones, that Miss Blu is not just a Blue Mountain Witch,” she says with a warm smile. I promise the triplets melt for this woman as they all gravitate to her side.
“So, my theory is correct,” Professor Adder says excitedly.
“I thought it was a little far-fetched, but the markers don’t lie, and Ms. Margaret has always been a little suspicious since Miss Blu arrived,” Ms. Bertha says conversationally. We all stand there in the hallway watching them talk eagerly, while the rest of us are left in the dark. Again, for the second time tonight.
“Please! Can you tell me where she is? What she is?” I shout as Ms. Bertha gives me some serious stink-eye.
“When her markers indicated she is part Fae, Ms. Margaret took her and Sam immediately toVanir.” Ms. Bertha claps in excitement, looking pleased with their discovery.
“The land of the Fae,” Ty says in awe. “I know Ms. Margaret is Fae, but I never thought that—”
“So that means, our little witch’s father is probably there,” Trys says.
“And they can heal her?” I ask. Because what else is there for me to say. I can still feel her Tethered to me, even with her on another plane of existence. But I didn’t get to say goodbye. Will she return? Or will I be left with a hollow feeling in my chest for the rest of my life?
“Exactly,” Ms. Bertha says proudly.
“Well, it seems fate has decided to put Esme on her own path,” I say as I turn away from them all and walk away from the empty room. I came here for Esme, and she is gone. I’m not okay, but I will be.
“Wait, Mi,” Marcus calls after me and I know he is wondering why I don’t want to know more. Ask more questions. Make demands. He knows me so well because I do want to know more and ask questions. I really do. But I have my own path to walk down, and now Esme has hers.
“I’m going home,” I say, refusing to turn around. I need to be strong. No one will be picking me up off the floor tonight.