Frog Hollow (Witches of Sanctuary Book 1) (17 page)

My bones ache with the release of tension and anger, and I playfully punch my hand in the air, which results in an invisible fist straight into his shoulder. He staggers back, laughing. “I guess that means I only need you, right?”

He smiles, rubbing his arm. “I wasn’t going to point that out, but since you brought it up…”

I roll my eyes. “If my ego ever gets as big as yours, please allow someone to pop it.”

He bites his lip, trying not to laugh, and pulls me to him. “If my ego makes you stronger, somehow making you able to keep yourself alive, then I’m happy to let my overblown head float me to China and back.”

I chuckle, stretching my arms above my head. “Well, I still have forty minutes before Julien picks me up. Want to grab me a couple more bricks?”

He stiffens, and I realize my mistake instantly.

“Julien is picking you up? Why?”

“Zeke and Sadie have a date. You’re helping Abby set up for the cotillion. He’s the only other option.”

“Why can’t you go move tables with me?”

“Reid,” I warn, because I don’t want to fight.

“I’m just saying,” he gives a shrug, “there will be three of us at the ballroom and only one Julien. It’s simple math.”

I open my mouth to oppose, but a voice behind me beats me to the punch. “I think I can handle it,” Julien says from the porch with a hint of teasing in his voice. He is standing in the doorway next to Sera, who grins at the havoc I’ve created in the back yard.

“You’re early.” Reid digs his heels in the ground and tenses. “It’s barely four.”

“I like to be prompt.”

Reid straightens his shoulders and tries again. “Willa is still practicing,” he says as kindly as he can manage. “I was just going to get her some more bricks.”

“Great. I’d love to watch her in action. Wouldn’t you, Mrs. Thomas?”

Sera’s eyes widen as she turns to glance back and forth between the two boys. The tension isn’t lost on her. Reid scowls in her direction, but she ignores him.

“In fact, I would, Julien. Wilhelmina looks like she’s made some real progress today.”

I sigh right along with Reid. “Great,” I grumble. “An audience.”

“A support team,” Julien insists, coming over to give me a quick hug.

It’s the first hug he’s given me all week.

Reid stomps around the side of the house, returning with three fresh bricks. My nerves tense, because I know I will never be able to repeat the process without Reid evoking the response from me again.

I look desperately at him, but he’s too busy glaring at Julien. “I would really rather wait,” I say, sticking my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of energy.”

Reid’s attention darts back to me, and he realizes my trouble. “Doubting yourself again?” He steps closer to me, giving me a smile I’ve never seen before. Seductive. Coy. Possessive. “Or do you just need me?”

My lips part, shocked by his audacity.

Julien’s face goes tight, and he stares at the ground. I look back to Reid with warning in my voice. “Don’t,” I mouth.

“Why not?” he says. “You could stay here, practice, and go with me to help Abby.”

I open my mouth to say something—what, I have no idea—but Julien saves me. “We have plans,” he says stiffly, walking down the steps.

“I don’t recall asking you,” Reid replies coolly.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Sera announces, clapping her hands together. “I never thought I would have to do this, but I’m kicking you all out.”

“What?” we ask in unison.

“Leave,” she says. “Right now. Reid, go help your sister like you promised, and Wilhelmina, go with Julien. Have her home by nine.”

Reid’s face falls flat, but Sera merely glares at him. “Go, I said. Now.”

Thankful for her intervention, Julien holds his hand out to me. “I’m ready if you are,” he says, smiling, though it’s obvious he is still annoyed with Reid.

I look back at Reid, and his gaze drops to the ground. “Go,” he insists. “Before I lose my manners.”

“Reid—”

“Just go, Wilhelmina.”

And just like that, I lose him. He’s back to the boy I met the night he invaded my house. Emotionless. Void. All I can do is stand there and watch him walk away.

Chapter 16

A LOSING BATTLE

Julien doesn’t hold my hand while we walk down the shaded path toward his house. That hug was a fluke, and it’s my fault. All of this is my fault. Reid warned me life here would be complicated, but I’d expected the danger. I didn’t expect this ridiculous feud between Julien and Reid to somehow magnify to include myself. It’s not fair to any of us. I’d blame it on my inexperience, but I don’t want to choose between them, because I can’t imagine life without them in it.

It’s selfish and definitely immature. It’s me, apparently.

I turn my attention to Julien and eye him curiously as he gazes through the trees at the setting sun. His blue eyes are worried, and his usual, perfect, raven hair is noticeably disheveled. The fragile light of the evening reflects off his face, and it makes me feel even worse.

“I don’t like to lie,” he says casually, “especially to the people I care about. I usually make a point to avoid it entirely. I plan on finally making things right tonight.”

My heart sputters in my chest, while a nervous chill creeps down my spine, dispensing with every ounce of heat in my body. A Reid-esque lecture almost bursts out of me at his confession, but I very calmly keep my features straight. “What have you lied to me about?”

He looks over at me and smirks. It’s the closest thing I’ve seen to a smile in days. “Nothing.”

“Then who are you referring to?”

He gently takes my hand, placing an unmovable grip around it. “My grandmother,” he says quietly. “Don’t you remember? You made me promise to tell her about us.”

Us. The unusual, strained emphasis he places on it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Is there an us? Do I want there to be?

“Oh,” I say lamely, because now that he mentions it, I do remember.

“My grandmother doesn’t approve of me hanging out with anyone, especially one of the Innocent,” he explains. “It’s kind of an unwritten rule around here. She won’t be happy about it.”

“What does she think you’ve been doing with all your time lately?”

“That’s the thing.” He grins, shoving his hands nervously in his pockets. “I’m running out of believable excuses. I told her I was going to help my grandfather at the orchard today, and she requested a bushel of apples.”

I smile over at him. “And instead apples, you’re bringing her me?”

“She has to meet you,” he says softly. “She won’t understand unless she meets you.”

It’s the way he says it, the tenderness in his voice, that makes my heart ache. He notices my reaction and moves away, only to turn around, returning his features to normal.

“Welcome back to Raven Ridge.” He stretches his hand out before us to showcase the bed of red tulips that dance in the breeze at our feet.

My gaze widens as I take in the expanding picture of Julien’s house. It rises, tall and powerful, into the trees that loom over it, the sun spilling down as if to highlight its beauty. It’s old, Victorian, with dark orange, chipped bricks that clash with the surrounding flowers that seem to be everywhere. It’s just as I remember it, except much more intimidating up close. “I’m assuming your grandmother really likes red tulips,” I say absently, just to say something.

Julien bends down in front of the flowers sprouting up next to the pathway leading up to the porch, his finger outlining the petals gently. “It’s a reminder,” he says softly, looking up at me. “She wants me to remember red doesn’t always have to mean death, but it can symbolize life as well.”

My heart sinks, the smile fading quickly from my lips as I imagine what life must be like for his family who loves him so dearly. The fear of losing him is constantly on their minds. I don’t know his grandmother, but I pity her.

“Don’t.” Julien catches my change of expression, quickly coming to his feet, and pulls me into his arms. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.”

“Like what?” My voices goes damp with the surprising surge of emotion.

I don’t know why, or even how it happens, but her pain suddenly becomes my own. The thought of Julien, this Julien who smiles so charmingly and holds me so gently, turning into a monster without even an ounce of compassion breaks me in two.

It’s not fair.

“Don’t mourn me yet,” he says. “I’m still here. I’m still me, and that is not changing.”

I swallow back the tears that brim my eyes and let my head fall against his chest. His fingers find my hair, his lips my cheek, and I can’t hold it any longer. The whimper escapes me, and one lonely tear streaks down to my chin.

“Damn it, Willa.”

“I’m sorry.” I suck in my breath to calm myself. “It’s just…” I trail off, unable to finish, because I don’t know how to explain the way it makes me feel. I can’t think of the right words to express the void I feel in my heart as I imagine the absence of him in my life.

“Just what?”

My lashes feel wet, evidence of the turmoil inside me. He waits, patiently allowing me to gather my thoughts, and more importantly, my mixed feelings. I can’t allow my weakness to ruin the little happiness he’s found in this short amount of life he gets to live freely.

I steel myself, barricading my emotions, the same way I do when I want to stop my powers from possessing me. When I look up at him again, my eyes are focused, determined to somehow convince him I can be his rock instead of the sand that will only drag him under. I can be his friend no matter how this turns out.

When I falter on the words, he hugs me, a real, genuine hug. “
Chérie d’amour
, I see it in your eyes, but I would much rather hear you say it.”

My determination crumbles. “I care about you. A lot.”

His eyes melt, a smile flirting at his lips, though it vanishes quickly. “But it scares you.”

I open my mouth to speak, but he places a single finger over my lips. “It scares me too.”

“I don’t want to make it worse.”

“You don’t. I don’t need someone else to put up a front for me. My family does that every day. I need someone to share this with, someone who understands that some days I might need to cry about it, while others I might need you to kiss me until I forget a world even exists outside of your lips.”

I laugh because he does. “How will I know?” My fingers nervously play with the edge of his shirt. “I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You’ll know,” he says, tugging on the end of my hair. “Like right now.” He scoots closer, his lips pressing against my cheek as he speaks. “Tell me, which do you think I need right now?”

He leans in, and I freeze.

A door creaks behind us, and Julien immediately jumps away from me. I turn, my cheeks already burning with embarrassment.

Would have I let him kiss me?

A petite figure stands watching us. A small smile curves her lips. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she says ever so kindly, wiping her hands on the flowered apron around her waist. “But dinner is ready.”

It isn’t until she smiles that I see the full resemblance to Julien in her features. Though she is short, and her hair a soft brown, her piercing blues eyes and kind smile are enough to tie her to her grandson.

Julien takes my hand, though his grip is shaky. “Grandma, I’d like you to meet—”

“I know who she is, Julien.”

He swallows loudly before turning to me. His smile looks strained, but then I realize it’s because he’s scared. “Wilhelmina, this is my grandmother, Rebekah.”

I manage a smile and a wave. I think.

Rebekah’s face is solemn before she finally smiles back. “Come inside,” she says, motioning us in. “Like I said, dinner is ready.”

I nod, following Julien as he holds the front door open for us. The house is even bigger than the exterior suggested. The large living room leads into an even grander kitchen and private dining area. Rebekah already has the long table full of plates and steaming food, urging us to take a seat while she washes up. I sit next to Julien, my stomach rumbling at the delicious smells, but my hands shake nervously beneath the table.

“So,” Rebekah joins us at the table, “tell me something about yourself, Wilhelmina, that I haven’t heard from the hundreds of nosy neighbors who ring my phone off the hook every day.”

Julien’s eyes are round, and Rebekah smiles curtly at him. “What? Did you actually believe you could run around with an Innocent without half the town breathing down my neck about it?”

Julien’s head jerks up. “You knew?”

“That you weren’t going to the orchard for apples today? Yes. Hence why you’ll be having blackberry cobbler for dessert.”

Julien’s brows pull together. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“And miss you fumbling for another excuse? What fun is there in that?”

His mouth drops open.

“Oh, please, Julien. Even without the phone calls, it would have been obvious. You haven’t stopped smiling since the Heritage Festival. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen you smile like that?”

He straightens his shoulders, trying not to sound annoyed. “What about your rules?”

“If it was any other girl, I would have tanned your hide all the way back to the Ridge.” She smiles genuinely at him, like she’s waited years to smile at him like that. “Wilhelmina is one of the Innocent. She is different.”

“But you said—”

She looks directly at me. “You are strong. You know what he is capable of and what he will become when we lose him.”

I nod.

“You chose him anyway?”

Again, with the choosing today. I nod.

“My daughter never had that choice,” she says stoically. “She wouldn’t have chosen differently, because she loved Julien too much for that, but we all deserve to choose our own fate.”

Julien stares down at the table, and I know he wishes that were true. He deserves to be able to choose between good and evil, to control his own nature. To be born with your ending already written is a horrible way to live.

“When did you lose her?” I ask, looking at both of them.

Julien sinks back in his chair and closes his eyes. Rebekah answers me. “Julien was only a child. A fight broke out in Charleston, back before the Prescott and Cotes families had the uneasy truce they do now. François’s father and eldest brother were both killed in the fight, and the transformation occurred instantly.”

Julien finally opens his eyes, his voice heavy. “We’d just finished eating dinner. My mom went upstairs to put me down for a nap while my dad started washing dishes. No one really knows what happened, but they think my mom put up a fight. Dishes were broken in the kitchen, lamps in the living room, and finally her body was found outside. An officer found me asleep in my bed.”

I left my seat, my arms engulfing him. I couldn’t stop myself. The hurt and pain in his eyes are too close to my own. We’ve lived such different lives but suffered through death, abandonment, and loneliness. I have to find a way to explain to Reid that I have to be here for Julien. Everyone deserves comfort and friendship.

“You’ve made your choice,” Rebekah whispers, her words spoken as fact.

At first I think she is talking to me, but Julien squeezes me tight against him. “I didn’t want this to happen,” he tells her. “I would have never risked it. I only wanted a friend.”

It is more than that now, at least for Julien. My own heart is torn. The line between friendship and something more isn’t as straight as I thought. There are curves and exceptions. I feel lost in the maze of it.

Rebekah watches me. Studies me. She knows I am still on the edge. “Let’s eat,” she says, “and enjoy our time together now.”

It was a reminder. There isn’t much time left. Eventually they will all make me choose.

We eat in relative silence. Once we scrape our plates clean, I join Julien in the kitchen to wash the dishes. When I continue my tortured silence, Julien splashes me with water in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re worrying about me again.”

“I was only thinking.” I purposely drop a glass into his side of the sink so it overflows onto his shirt. He gapes at me, shocked. Mischief forms behind his smile when his grandmother sits down at the bar behind us.

“You’re lucky,” he mouths, glancing over his shoulder at her.

I smirk before dropping another glass that sends water flying all the way up to his face. A tiny soap bubble pops on the end of his nose. Rebekah chuckles behind us, and that is all the encouragement Julien needs to send a handful of water in my direction. I laugh, backing up with my hands in the air to block the onslaught. “I give up!”

“You think I’m letting you off the hook that easily?” he asks, looking down at his soaked shirt.

“Yes?” I reply with a laugh, looking over at his grandmother for help.

Rebekah smiles softly, standing up to put herself between us. “I’m with Wilhelmina on this one. You two are making a mess.”

“I’ll help clean up before we go.”