A patronizing chuckle tumbled from the scumbag. “You assume sweet Clarissa’s motives were entirely pure. That there might not have been something…deeper…compelling her to seek out my sibling that fateful day.”
Logan bared his teeth. “What the hell does it matter why she did it?”
“Oh, it’s vitally important. To her. Not that I’m not grateful for her eternal quest for redemption. It is, after all, the key that’s always kept her shackled to me, one way or another. Isn’t that right, my dearest?”
Clarissa’s watery gaze dropped to the floor. Her fierce battle against whatever private demons plagued her squeezed his heart. “Baby, it doesn’t matter what you did. Whatever you think you did.”
“I envied them.” Her soft words were almost inaudible. “Sweet goddess, how I envied them.” She looked up, the pain in her eyes almost unbearable to witness. “Do you know how many times I sat on that park bench wishing one of those families would adopt me so I’d never have to be alone anymore? It ate at me, constantly. But I figured it was my lot in life. You can’t choose the parents you’re given. Or the ones who walk away from you.”
He ached to go to her, to hold her in his arms and take away every ounce of her agony. But when he took a determined step forward, she warded him off with a shake of her head. “Please, I—I need to say this, to get it out of me.” She knuckled her nose, her chest expanding with a fortifying breath. “After my mother left, I thought I’d banished the ugly envy that twisted my insides. But it wasn’t truly gone. Just buried. Waiting for the perfect moment to rear its hideous head and force me to feed it.”
Her voice wobbled for a moment before steadying. “I never expected to see her again. She was supposed to be gone. Nothing more than a painful ghost from my past. At first I was so angry that she was back in town and hadn’t even bothered to contact me or my father that I didn’t pay much attention to anything else. But then it hit me. She was with two young girls. Two young girls who weren’t me. Smiling at them in a way that I’d secretly imagined a million times during my little fantasy episodes.”
His hands cramped as he made a fist, resisting the urge to reach for her and stop this anguished recounting of history. He noticed her captor’s rapturous expression during her confession. It was as if the creature got some vicarious thrill from her suffering. It made him long all the more to rip the bastard to shreds.
“It was one of the lowest moments of my life. Even weeks later, all I could see was that look on her face. I knew I needed to move on, needed to move out and get away from everything that reminded me of her. My father wasn’t happy about the decision. He kept insisting that I needed to be there for when she came back.” She winced, giving him a terrible suspicion where this was leading.
“She was never coming back. I’d convinced myself of it, but not him. I—I decided that there was only one way he’d ever see the true light about her. I’d have to shine it, bright and glaring. So I began following her, building up my case. When I had enough evidence to nail her, I laid it all out for him. Needless to say it didn’t go well.”
“And that’s where I came in.” The scumbag almost sounded proud of his role in the whole tragedy.
“You fucker. You took advantage of them both.” His fury returning to the forefront, Logan stormed forward.
“I’m merely a facilitator. Humans are entirely capable of destroying themselves without my assistance.”
Logan took a swing, but the bastard vanished. Clarissa tumbled into his arms and he hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair. “Rissa.” He choked on the sorrow jackknifing in his throat.
“It’s okay. I don’t regret the decision I’ve made. Just like I…” She clutched him, her hands trembling. “I don’t regret falling in love with you.”
He’d waited a lifetime to hear those words. Her saying them now was bittersweet. He bracketed her face with his palms, his eyes searching hers. “Then stay. I need you, Rissa. I’m fuckin’ beggin’ you.”
“It’s too late.”
“No. We’ll find a way to get you out of this contract. Whatever it takes.”
“I love you,” she repeated, her lips trembling. One hand left his waist and stroked his cheek before she settled her mouth on his. Her kiss felt precious and fragile, as if it would be the last they’d ever share.
He refused to believe it. Refused to believe he was losing her. A massive shudder shook around them, and he opened his eyes just as the walls of the house began ascending. The sight left him frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening. Clarissa cupped his jaw, and he jerked his gaze to her.
Regret and sorrow clouded her eyes. “Goodbye.”
“Rissa.”
Her entire body bucked before slumping into his arms. The house suddenly vanished around them, leaving him standing in a vacant field, clutching her lifeless body.
Chapter Twenty
Thanks to the amount of shaking his hands were doing on the steering wheel, he wasn’t entirely sure how he managed not to crash the Miata. Probably the only thing that kept him on the road was his determination to get Clarissa to her sisters and her soul back to her body. He roared into the coven house’s drive, squealing to a stop in front of the porch. Jumping from the vehicle, he raced to the passenger door and hoisted Clarissa’s limp form into his arms. He ran into the house, calling for help at the top of his lungs.
Constance and Fiona came jogging from the parlor. They paid his nudity no mind, instead their eyes going huge at the sight of Clarissa. Both witches rushed forward, but Fiona was the first to speak. “What happened?” she demanded, grabbing Clarissa’s deadweight arm.
How did you go about explaining someone’s soul had been ripped from their body? Hell if he knew, so he blabbered out every piece of the story, hoping there was some part in there that would offer Fiona and Constance a clue as to what to do next. Both witches took everything he’d heaped on them in stride, but he didn’t like the uncertainty lurking in their eyes.
“You’re gonna bring her back,” he insisted, convinced that the desperation in his voice would make it so.
“Neither of us has any experience with soul retrievals,” Constance finally admitted, her face on the verge of crumpling.
“Then find someone who fuckin’ does.”
Fiona’s teeth worried her bottom lip. “That’s not something you can just look up in the Yellow Pages. I’m not sure it’s even possible in this case.”
“Why the hell not?”
Fiona met his steady stare for a moment before averting her gaze. “You said this…thing…almost has some kind of fixation on Clarissa.”
“Yeah. What’s that got to do with anything? He’s a fuckin’ monster that I’m gonna annihilate. End of story.”
Constance sighed, apparently in response to his tirade. “I think what Fiona is trying to say is that the psycho won’t want to give Clarissa up without a fight.”
“Fine. Let him bring it.”
Fiona’s soft exhale matched Constance’s. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with. It’s virtually impossible to fight an invisible enemy.”
“That sounds like quitter talk,” he bit out. “After everything this woman has ever done for you—for this coven—you’re gonna just throw your hands up and admit defeat? Let her die?”
Fiona recoiled from his harsh words like he’d struck her. “She’s my coven sister. We’re here for each other, no matter what. Hell will freeze over before I let her die.”
“Good. Then get on the horn with the guild and every other group you can think of so we can start devisin’ a plan to get her back to us.” Yeah, he was barking out orders like he was Patton or something, but he had to do something—anything—to keep his rising helplessness at bay.