Page 12 of Pieces of Halves

“How pretty.Agalinis purpurea.” She points to some delicate violet petals, and I watch her face, trying to decipher why she speaks so strangely.

Distracted, she trips over a root on the ground. I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her up. She is brilliant, that much is obvious, but God, she is spacy. I am about to remind her to watch where she is going because eventually, she is going to hurt herself, but I stop myself.

“I got you,” I say, and steady her.

She looks up, and her green eyes lock on mine. I freeze, my heart stops beating, and I stare. With her lips slightly parted, she does not look away. A strand of hair falls over her face like it has been doing the whole day, and I cannot resist. I move my hand and tuck it behind her ear, lightly running my fingers along her skin.

Her cheeks turn just the slightest color of pink, but she stays rooted. If I lean in just a few inches, my lips could touch hers, and I would be in heaven.

“Um… we're almost there.” She looks down but does not make a move to pull away.

Inhaling, I force my arm to drop from her waist. There are still a few more days together.Maybe I can figure out a way to make her fall in love with me. It’s a silly thought, and I almost chuckle at it, but it makes my heart squeeze.

A stranger who caught my attention from across a room. A vampire on a run that looks like an angel. A woman who feels like she should be in my arms for eternity, smiling and laughing.

“Alright. Lead the way.” I clear my throat and take a step back. “Just watch the roots,” I tell her, and she smiles.

“What are you here for?” Her face lights up, and she turns to walk again, but her eyes don’t have that joyful shine in them.

Because she needs me to, I chuckle at her comment.

Who hurt you, Izzy?

“To catch you when you fall, of course,” I follow her.

I mean those words.

We arrive at a large mansion with clean stonework and a well-manicured front lawn. Massive willow trees surround the area, giving it privacy. It’s a very luxurious way for the witches to live, that is for sure. I was expecting an old, creepy hut, but this is something else. Someone is paying them very well, and that puts me on edge.

Izzy takes a deep breath from next to me, and I observe her. She seems anxious to be here. I make a mental note to watch the witches interact with her.

We walk up the steps, and the air around us feels like it is getting heavier, or maybe it’s the statues of angels creating an eerie aura; they seem out of place and make me uncomfortable. This is a house of witches. Why angels?

Plus, they remind me of the Watching Angels; they observe and record as the world turns and burns. The WatchingAngels are not allowed to intervene, but I know one who did, Jona, and I am glad for it.

The door opens before I knock, pulling me away from the statues. A lavish foyer is revealed to us, exposing grand decorations. Paintings framed in gold hang on tall gray walls, and a few velvet chairs sit by the tall, curving stairs. Everything here screams money.

Two women in their early thirties and black hair appear in front of me, lavish dresses snuggly hugging their bodies. I cringe at the sight of them. Not because they are ugly. The opposite; they look as pretty as the next woman. The wealth disgusts me. Nothing good will come from them.

“Rosa,” one of them says, introducing herself. “Teresa.” She looks at the woman next to her. “At your service, halfling.” I want to roll my eyes at the theatrics, but I need answers, so I keep my composure. “Isabella, darling.” Rosa turns her attention to Izzy. “The vampire princess, don’t be shy. Come in.” She looks past me, an evil smirk on her face.

Vampire princess?I turn to Izzy, my brows brought together. Izzy doesn’t move or react; she blankly stares somewhere in front of her. Her skin has blanched, and sweat develops on her forehead. She wheezes and then gasps for air. Confused and worried, I get a glimpse of the witches. They watch Izzy with amused smiles.

What in the actual hell?

Izzy’s body starts shaking uncontrollably, and tears stream down her face. Her body jerks like she is about to throw up, but she turns around and runs out of the mansion. She sobs as she takes a turn to hide behind the stairs outside, and I hear retching sounds of vomiting.

Swallowing at the sight of her in such a state, I follow behind, my steps quick. I don’t understand what is happening, so I wait another minute while she shakes, throws up again, and cries hysterically, her voice low and broken. My chest hurts watching her, but I don’t know what to do.

“Izzy?” I call her, but she hugs her knees and hides her face in her arms. “Izzy.” I get down next to her. “Please tell me what is wrong,” I whisper desperately.

“I remembered. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t keep the memories away.” She looks up, her eyes wide and red, tears staining her skin, and clear snot around her nose.

“What did you remember?” I study her face.

“Last year, on my birthday, my father had a party.” She sobs. “His powerful friends were there.” Tears stream down her cheeks. “He said I can run wherever I want and that whoever catches me first can do what they want.”

My body flushes with fire, and I see red. I know where this is going, but I keep listening with my jaw clenched.

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