Page 26 of Mostly Shattered

“It’s Conrad.” Anthony appears stricken. “That body they found. It’s Conrad.”

I don’t know how to feel. They stare at me on the ground, clutching my broken necklace. I feel moisture trailing down my cheeks as I reach to make sure Anthony is really there.

I’m not crazy. The wizard sealed him inside the tomb. They were all dead.

Everything feels like it’s happening to someone else.

“Anthony,” Astrid orders, “get her off the ground. We need to get her to the car. People are staring. This is a private family matter.”

Anthony loops his forearm around my back and pulls me to my feet. I lean against him for support.

“You’re alive,” I tell him.

“What the hell happened in there?” Anthony asks, guiding me toward a limo. His eyes are as glazed as I feel.

A driver opens the car door, and I’m urged inside.I collapse onto the seat, clutching the broken amulet like a lifeline to sanity. The door slams shut.

“Hand me the yellow vial, then go find your father,” Astrid says. “Tell him we’re going to leave without him if he doesn’t hurry.”

Anthony leaves. Astrid appears next to me, stroking back my hair. “Sit up. Drink this.”

She forces me to drink the potion before I can form a coherent thought. The small grip I have on reality fades like the last swig of too much alcohol before passing out.

“That’s it. It will calm you down,” Astrid soothes. Normally, her voice is so cold. The warmth in it now lulls me to close my eyes. “Just rest. Let the potion take all your pain away.”

Chapter

Seven

Fuck today.

Anthony lies sprawled on my bed, a pillow jammed over his face, while I change my clothes. He’s been lying there ever since he marched into my bedroom with a growl of frustration and nothing else.

I’m only too happy to get out of the dress. The thin material makes me feel too exposed and on display. I replace it with jeans and a baggy T-shirt. The obscure band logo flipping off the world on the front feels like a mini rebellion. Out of habit, I take the amulet. The pouch feels uncharacteristically cold, and I rub at the shards inside. A creepy sensation tries to travel up my arm, like an army of spiders parading toward my armpit. I instantly shove the pouch into my pocket and rub the sensation away.

We’re alone in the room. Even though it’s not, I can imagine that this place feels like a sanctuary to my brother. No one will come looking for us in here. At least they won’t come looking for me and accidentally find him. They’ve already dictated what they require me to do.

“You all right under there?” I inquire.

He grumbles incoherently against the pillow. The weight of his frustrations is almost palpable.

“Why so glum?” I cross over to look down at him. “I take it you overheard the big news that Mortimer and the parents want me to get married?”

He lifts the pillow slightly, his eyes narrowed. “You mean the part where they’re selling you off to Chester ‘The Slimeball’ Freemont? Yeah, I heard.”

I roll my eyes and sit next to him on the bed. He pulls the pillow fully from his face and tosses it aside.

“I mean, out of all the people they could choose—Chester? Were they drunk?” He gives a teasing half-smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “Or do they just hate me?”

“Yes. Because clearly my marriage to Chester will deeply affect you.” I chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood, but there’s a heaviness that lingers beneath his sarcasm.

“I guess, technically, they gave me a choice ofeither Jasper or Chester.” Saying it out loud doesn’t make me feel better.

“You know, my buddy Peter thinks you’re cute, and he owes me several favors. We can fly up to Las Vegas, find an Elvis drive-thru, and get you hitched. Then you can’t get married because you’ll already be taken.”

“Isn’t Peter a werewolf?” I scrunch up my nose at the idea.

“You like dogs.” Anthony grins.

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