Cescily gives me a tight smile and shakes her head. “Not really. But this one over here—“
I stop walking, cutting her off. Entranced, I’m unable to break my stare from the house. “Something happened here. Come on, I’m certain.” Cescily smiles wider and grabs my hand, trying to pull me forward, but I don’t budge. “Well, now you must tell me. You’re having a weird reaction.”
“How so?” she asks, her voice an octave too high.
“Your voice is weird, your face is weird, your haste to pull me away from it is weird.” I tick off my fingers. “Plus, the feeling I have about it is weird.” Biting nervousness is thoroughly blanketing me.
“There’s not really much to tell,” Cescily says with a forced smile before it falls and she drops her act. “Shit. That’s a lie. I’m sorry.”
I plant my feet on the sidewalk. “I’m not leaving until you tell me.” Cescily is incredibly uncomfortable, and it makes my uneasiness increase. “What is it?”
“Oh, Elly!” She shuffles her feet impatiently, physically showing me her reluctance to elaborate. “Alec is going to kill me! It was me that let it slip the first time.” Cescily bites her lip and gives me a pleading look. “It shouldn’t be me who reminds you.”
This house has something to do with Alec.
“Tell me, now,” I demand.
“Oh, alright. Only because we made so much progress today. But you have to swear.” She points her finger in my direction, her face turning serious. “Swear to me that you will still go speak to someone. And not go murderous rage on me.” I narrow my eyes. “Promise me, Elly!” Cescily practically screams.
“Fine, I promise I will still go talk to your professional,” I tell her reluctantly.
“And?” She jabs her finger into my chest.
“And I will try not to go into a murderous rage.”
My face is numb with anticipation. Cescily’s eyes land on a bench and she nods towards it. “Let’s sit here.”
“Fucking Mother, what are you about to tell me?” My heart is accelerating at an alarming rate.
“It really should be Alec,” Cescily starts, but I shoot her a glare that makes her stop speaking immediately. She leads me to the bench and forces me to sit before exhaling and smiling sweetly. “That house belongs to a shipping heiress from the Ruby Shore of Halliveen. One week from tonight, it will have been empty for twenty-four years.”
“Samhain?” I ask.
She nods. “More than that: your birthday. It’s been empty since the night you were born.”
“Why?” I ask, drawing out the word.
She sighs again and shakes out her shoulders. “You really should go talk to Alec,” she pleads.
“Cescily.” My voice is threatening, and she grimaces before continuing.
“Because Rahleigh left that night and has not returned to The Capital since.” Cescily smiles at me and goes to stand, but I pull her back down.
Something about the name has my blood heating in my stomach, not in a good way.
“Who the fuck is Rahleigh?” I ask dangerously, the name tasting like decay on my tongue. An uncomfortable roiling is beginning in my gut, my spools of power glowing.
Cescily smiles tightly again. “Remember, you said no murderous rage,” she sing-songs. “Okay. Alec’s going to kill me. Okay.” She shakes her shoulders out before giving me a soothing smile.
It does not calm me.
“Samhain twenty-four years ago, you were born into this world and took your first breath. With that breath, a light in my brother’s chest came alive, and he knew that you—his mate—had been born. Alec says he had been experiencing a joyous restlessness all day long that he couldn’t place. It was the anticipation of your birth.” Cescily pauses, taking a deep breath.
“After you were born, Alec ran through the streets wearing nothing but sleep pants, forgetting that he even had magical abilities to bring him where he needed to go, running to this house to break off his engagement with Rahleigh.” Cescily grimaces at me when she finishes the tale.
My head fills with blood; rough pounding hits my ear drums like the crashing of ferocious waves while my vision simultaneously tinges red. My face turns feral. I stand on my feet and face the house as a single memory shatters through the glass barrier around my mind without a fight.
I’m twelve. Cescily and I are laying on our stomachs in the grass facing Nana’s cottage. We pick petals from wildflowers as she tellsme about her new school at The Capital. She chatters happily about her friends, and I glance up to see Alec conversing with Kraeston animatedly.