Divide (24 page)

“Sometimes,” she began, leaning toward the flames and pulling my attention back to her wicked green eyes. “Sometimes, you leave a suicide note. Sometimes, you just disappear without a trace—”

“Sometimes you leave with me.”

“Don’t interrupt, son.”

“Yes, Mother.” Donovan winked at me. I ignored him, focusing on his words. And their implication. If he was involved in all this, more than just this time around, how old was he? How many years had he been forced to live this life at his mother’s disposal?

The witch snapped her fingers, and I realized I’d been locked in a silent battle with Donovan. His brow was furrowed as he held my gaze.

“Once,” the witch continued, “you were lost at sea! That was the best one yet! You’d never left the shore, the silly fools!” She laughed again, throwing her head back as the giggle fit consumed her. “You weren’t even fond of the water!” She was barely able to speak with the amount of laughter that spilled from her.

An article I’d read on Mick’s desk drifted through my mind, and I knew the witch had spoken the truth. I’d read about the girl who’d hated the water, then one day boarded a ship with her lover and left, never to be seen again.

I glanced at Donovan. Had he been the lover?

“Moving on.” I tried to shake the image of that girl’s face—my face—from my mind, along with the idea that I’d done more than just accidental kissing with Donovan in one or more of my past lives. I closed my eyes again, pushing the irritation away with each deep breath I took. I rubbed my thumb over the heart ring Cam had given me back when I’d left the hospital after my incident. I needed his strength. “You mentioned that you’ve watched me love, and watched as the men who loved me mourned my loss. If that’s so, then why has the spell never broken? Isn’t love the way to end the curse?”

“Those are your last two questions.”

Good grief.
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Those are the most important questions anyway.”

The witch smiled as she placed her knitting needles aside, then stood. She made her way around the fire, again with the exaggerated way she maneuvered around it. She squatted down in front of me, bringing her face within inches of mine. She ran her fingers down my cheek

“
‘Isn’t love the way to end the curse?’
” she mimicked me. “Love. Sweet, innocent love. What do you think this is, Princess, a Disney movie?”

She laughed as she pulled her arm back, her fingers curling into a fist. I realized what she was about to do just seconds too late—not that I could have done anything anyway constrained the way I was. Her knuckles connected with my cheek, producing a loud crack that echoed through the hollow cave.

“Mother!”

As my head lulled to the side, and my eyes closed from the force of the impact, I heard one last revelation before I succumbed to the darkness that claimed my consciousness.

“Fool,” she spat. “Love can’t break the spell.”

And with that one, simple truth, I passed out…knowing I would never be freed from this cursed fate. There was no way to break the spell.

Certainly not
love
.

Mick

Our boots crunched in the snow, the thudding of our heavy footsteps the only sound we’d heard for miles now. We were too far from any other cabins, or a road, to hear much else. Cam kept pace right behind me, with Ro by his side, and to Ro’s credit, she hadn’t even complained once. I knew how cold she must have been, but she knew how much this trek meant for me, and for Holland’s safety.

If left too long, and Holland had another outburst, she risked changing for good. And if that happened…

I couldn’t think about that. There were no what ifs in this. There was either me saving her, or nothing. Because if I didn’t save her, she wouldn’t make it out of this forest alive. There’d be a statue of a beautiful girl, forever memorialized in the pristine forest surrounding Big Bear Lake. No one would know where it came from, or how it got there, or why. No one would know that my heart had frozen with hers the day the statue appeared in the middle of the forest.

“Come on, you guys,” I urged. “We’re running out of time. I can feel it.”

“Where are we going?” Ro asked. “We haven’t seen any tracks, and there’s no way they could have flown—”

“Just trust me! Please!”

I’d already told her—I knew we were going the right way. How I knew was unclear. But I knew. I felt Holland. Our connection was strong, regardless of the doubts I’d allow to creep in; I knew I travelled in the right direction.

More importantly, I knew it wasn’t too late.

Yet.

Maniacal,
female
laughter stopped us dead in our tracks. It reverberated off the forest walls, bouncing off the tree trunks and echoing for what felt like forever in our ears. The three of us stood frozen in place, our bodies hunched as we searched the surrounding forest for the source of the sound.

At first, I thought I was imagining things, maybe the three of us had frozen out here and shared hallucinations, or maybe they were in one of my own delusions…but then something snapped inside me, and puzzle pieces clicked into place. I knew what it was.
Who
it was.

“No.”

“What?” Ro asked.

“Donovan is working with the witch,” I stated calmly. How had I not figured that out sooner?

“What?” Ro and Cam said at the same time.

“Donovan is working with the witch,” I repeated. “The one who cursed us.” Somewhere inside me, I’d known all along. Hadn’t they?

Without waiting for a response, I took off in the direction I felt pulled to go, knowing that with each step I grew closer to finding Holland, and she grew closer to changing for the final time.

Why else would Donovan and the witch have brought her out here, secluded in a winter fortress of snow and ice, hidden away from the one person who could save her?

Away from me.

Holland

I came to minutes or hours later. Donovan paced the length of the cave, his shoes wearing a path in the dirt. I slowly pushed up to a sitting position, tilting my head to search his face. His eyebrows were drawn down over his eyes, his jaw moving from side to side, like his teeth ground.

Was he thinking the things I’d wondered? Possibly reevaluating his devotion to this horrible woman?

“You know she’s punished you, too,” I whispered when he paced close to me again.

He stopped abruptly, then squatted in front of me, dark eyes narrowed and calculating. “Don’t speak of things you do not know, love.”

“Donovan? Is she awake, dear?”

“Yes, Mother.” He stood, his gaze holding mine as he did, then turned to join her beside the fire once more. He leaned against the far wall of the cave, arms crossed over his chest.

I continued to stare at him. He was the key to my escape. I just knew it. I had to make him see—

“Well, then. So nice of you to join us. Now that we’ve humored you—generous on our part, I might add—and you’ve had your little catnap, all I have to do is wait for you to have one of your episodes, and then I’ll have another trinket to add to my collection.”

She grinned. I scowled.

“I won’t do it.”

“You won’t
do
it?”

“No. I won’t lose control. I can’t just turn it off or on like a light switch.”

The woman laughed, tossing her head back the way Donovan had in Mick’s room. She walked a few paces away from me, toward what I’d gathered was the mouth of the cave, judging by the icy winds whirring in from that direction. She returned a heartbeat later, a wicked smile on her face, pulling at her skin and distorting her features.

When she approached the fire, an idea blossomed in my mind and, since I had nothing to lose…

“Fire!” I shouted. “Look out for the fire! It’s spreading!”

The witch jumped, whipping around to face the threat, only to discover the same old campfire that had been there the whole time. She quickly scanned the room, then locked me in her emerald gaze, her face pulling into a mask of anger.

But it was enough to confirm her fear.

“What are you playing at, girl?”

I smirked, feeling slightly less helpless, even though my teeth chattered angrily and I’d lost feeling in my toes and fingertips.

If I devised some brilliant plan, would I even be able to walk out of here?

The witch tilted her head, then turned back to the front of the cave. “I think you’ll be able to flip that switch soon. Donovan, dear, go greet our guests.”

“What?” I snapped my gaze to the gaping mouth of the cave, but it was empty, save for Donovan’s retreating form.

“Holland!” Mick’s voice echoed through the icy air, the sound of it music to my ears.
He’s here.

The witch leaned back against an incline in the cave wall that resembled a chair and crossed her hands in her lap. “Ooh! This is going to be so much more fun than last time! I just know it!”

Mick entered the cave, with Cam and Rosemarie not too far behind. My heart skipped a beat when I saw them. My saviors. They all came to an abrupt stop, and each of them assessed the situation, their gazes quickly flicking all over the small cave. But where was Donovan?

After evaluating our surroundings, Mick’s gaze finally landed on me, and he sighed, relaxing his shoulders the slightest bit. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. I was half-frozen, but otherwise unharmed. “Donovan’s right behind you somewhere. He just left to find you guys.”

Cam straightened his shoulders. “I’ve got it.” He turned to leave, and my heart dropped to the floor.

“Cameron!” But he was gone. I searched Mick’s face. “Please. Don’t let him get hurt.”

“I’ll go,” Rosemarie said. As she turned to follow my brother, Mick grabbed her arm. “Stay. I’ll go after Cam in a moment. He can take care of himself.” He turned to the witch. “Let her go.” He took a few steps forward.

“She’s not restrained, Mick. She can leave at any time.”

I looked down as the ropes that once held me here disappeared before my eyes, first unraveling from my hands and disappearing, then my ankles.

I gasped. Even though I’d known about the magic she used, the curse, her eye color changing from green to brown at will, the way she’d transformed into Mr. Greenburg…I didn’t think I’d ever get used to actually witnessing something so impossible.

Mick narrowed his piercing gaze at the witch, gauging the truth in her words, I assumed, then turned his attention back to me. “Can you walk?”

“I think so,” I said through chattering teeth.

“Okay. Get up slowly and come to me.”

I did as I was told, surprised that I could walk, even though my body was in so much pain from the glacial temperatures and from being tied into a fairly cramped position for so long. The witch giggled, and I ignored her, though something nagged at the back of my mind. This was much too easy. Why was she just letting me go without a fight?

I reached down on my way past the fire, then scooped up an exposed log, one end aflame with a healthy glow. I didn’t have to look at the witch to know she scrutinized my movements, and I hoped she flinched at the sight of something she so clearly feared within my grasp.

I didn’t know what I’d do with the torch—
set her on fire?
—but I knew I wanted it on my side.

Approaching Mick on shaky legs, I almost fell into his arms. He pulled me into a fierce embrace, then wasted no time tugging off his jacket, revealing another one beneath it. He’d come prepared. I pulled on the jacket as he took the torch, then I basked briefly in the body heat remaining on the interior lining.

I turned back to face the witch. The fire danced off her features, making her red-orange hair glow as if it, too, was ablaze.

I pictured flames lapping at her skin. In my mind, her skirts caught fire first, the flames crawling quickly up the velvet dress. For a moment, I was back at the beach house, flames licking the side of the bungalow I’d once loved—and once forgotten torching. I shook my head, then brought my focus back to the imminent danger before me.

Some memories were meant to stay hidden.

Her eyes were even wilder than before. Did she follow my thoughts?

“What’s the catch?” I dared to ask. “Why are you letting us go?”

“No catch. I said
you
were free to go, and
you
are.”

As the meaning of her words sank in, I realized too late what she meant. The fire roared, and Mick was thrown across the cave, iron shackles appearing out of nowhere—as quickly as my own restraints had just moments ago vanished—and strapping him against the cold, rocky wall. The torch he’d held fell to the cavern floor with a soft
thud
.

“No!” I turned back to the witch, my fists clenched in anger. “Let him go.”

“Oh, no, dear. That wasn’t part of my deal. I said you could go. Not him. I want to keep him for myself. He’s much better than any of his pathetic incarnations, and I’ve grown tired of living alone. Maybe this time the curse ends with your statue in
our
yard.”

Rosemarie ran to Mick’s side, tugging at the restraints holding him to the wall, but I remained where I stood. Locked in a silent battle with the witch, I held her hardened stare—and my ground.

She smiled a menacing smile. “It’s been ages since I’ve had any fun. Do you even know what it was like for me all those years? Living in a nursing home and pretending to be an eighty-five-year-old man?” She shuddered dramatically. “No. I think it’s time for me to have a little fun. And judging by the way you look at him when you think no one’s watching, I imagine he’s quite good in the fun department.”

Pain spread quickly from my heart to my hands. I took a deep breath, knowing what was coming, and knowing I couldn’t stop it on my own. Not without—

Donovan.

Panic gripped my heart, icy fingers latching on to my biggest fear: losing Cameron. Where was Donovan? Where was Cam?

“You,” I growled at her. “How did Donovan stop the change? How did his touch…?” I swallowed hard, a sour taste building in the back of my throat.

“Donovan had magic fingers, didn’t he, love?” She waggled her fingers at me, speaking with Donovan’s heavy accent. The answer was in the question.
Magic.
She’d made him the only one with the ability to pull me from the edge of the change. It had all been part of her plan.

But why? Why do this to her son? The only companion she’s had all these years? Didn’t they see?

As my hands fisted at my sides and my skin felt pulled taut against my trembling muscles, I longed for his help. I remembered the way I felt when he’d touched me, as if I couldn’t live without that connection to him. And though I wished he’d stop the change now, I knew he wouldn’t, and the thought made me angrier still. The way he’d—
she’d
—made my body react, tricked me with magic…the thirst, the desire…

“Holland, stay calm. I’m fine. I’ll get out of this. But you need to focus.”

Mick was right. But the change was taking over. The beast unfurled slowly within me. Restless, burning to come out. How long did I have? Would I be a monster for long, or become a statue immediately? Should I tell them to run? Was I a danger to the people I loved?

Yes.

“Magic lips, as well, hmm, Holland?”

Mick’s eyes widened. I turned back to the witch. “How dare you.”

She laughed, then walked over to Mick. She slowly opened the jacket and flannel shirt he had on, exposing the tight thermal underneath. Rosemarie still struggled with the restraints, pulling on them and slamming rocks against the manacles to try to bust Mick loose.

The witch laughed at her efforts, clearly confident in whatever black magic held the iron shackles to the wall.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears and my breath came in and out in quick, loud gusts. I wanted to go to them, to help Rosemarie free Mick, or fight off the witch somehow, but I was frozen—the imminent change consuming my body and mind faster than it had ever come on before.

“Holland. Listen to me. Breathe, baby, please breathe.”

I tried. I really did. I inhaled and exhaled, just like I always had, but it was like sucking in a gust of sand. The air scraped my throat, leaving fire in its wake. I choked and sputtered, bending over to try to catch my breath.

I stood back up, my vision blurred and my breath a slight wheeze.

The witch laughed, then turned her attention back to Mick. She trailed a hand down his chest, stopping just before the waist of his pants. Then, slowly running a fingertip across the skin exposed between the hem of his shirt and the top of his jeans, she left a scorching trail of pink skin almost a foot long from hip to hip. An already-blistering burn remained where her finger just grazed.

My heart ached. My control drifted further out of reach.

She stood on her tip-toes to lean toward his ear, but her voice remained loud enough for me to hear. “Remember me yet? We could have been so happy.”

Mick’s eyes were narrowed in pain, but they widened as her words sank in. I could barely see him through my tunneling vision, but I fought to focus, blinking my eyes and locking him in my gaze. I inhaled a deep breath, then another, holding on for a little while longer. Maybe something would happen. Maybe Donovan would come. Maybe…

The witch laughed. She glanced back at me, then returned her attention to Mick. “Look how she tries to fight for you, even now. Even after all these years of loss, of failure, she loves you still. But not as I do. Never as much as I have loved you.”

She turned back to me. “Surprised? Did you
really
think you were the only one I made pay for your sins? The only one I forced to come back over and over again, never truly obtaining love, destined to fail…every…single…time? Guess again, dear.”

With those words, she turned away from me, then kissed Mick, long and hard. Rosemarie pushed her aside, and redness tinted Mick’s mouth, as if the witch’s kiss was as scorching as her touch had been on his stomach.

Rosemarie gasped and began to cry, then fought harder at her brother’s shackles.

It was too much for me, too.

Mick clenched his jaw, but pain emanated in his eyes. When my heart broke for him, so did my control.

In the blink of an eye, I was across the fire, my hands wrapped around the witch’s neck. She laughed as I choked her, which made me angrier. As rage filled me, something inside me broke in two. I heard the
crack
resound in my head.

Hearing that last bit of my humanity fading away was all I could take. The pain engulfed my fingers as they clenched and unclenched around the witch’s throat. Agony seared my chest, making it burn when I tried to speak or swallow. I couldn’t breathe, or if I could, I didn’t feel it past the blinding rage.

The excruciating pain moved up into my eyes, faster this time, more consuming, red the only thing I could see. Deep crimson blurred my vision, as if my eyes bled. The fiery sting moved toward my toes, knocking me to my knees as it singed the length of my legs. I fell hands-down in the dirt of the cave floor. The witch’s neck was no longer in my grasp. If I could see, I’d look to find out where she ended up, if she breathed. If I could feel anything past the scorching pain, I’d stand.