Page 31 of Memories Like Fangs
“And, a very talented one at that, Miss— Ouch!” Cody cried out as Maisie hit him with a small shock of magic that made him clutch his arm.
“You’ll have to forgive him. He’s an idiot, and so am I for sleeping with him.”
The tall one chuckled. Their voice had an accent as well, which was too subtle for me to figure out what it was. “We all make mistakes inside and outside the bedroom, little fitch.”
“You’re Quinn, yeah? Byrd’s mate?” The Scottish Guardian said with her eyes landing on me.
I nodded. “How did you know we were mates?”
“Only fated mates fight that hard for each other.” She smiled, clinging tighter to her mate. “It’s nice to meet you, lass. I’m Rhois.”
“The name’s Journee,” The tall one nodded their head toward us.
“And, I’m Isidora, but most call me Izzy.” The winged woman introduced with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “While I’m happy to see you all, I thought you were in Montana for the holidays. What are you all doing here?”
Maisie’s lips set into a straight line. “It’s a long story. What’s going on here?”
Rhois sighed. “I wish we knew enough to say.”
“That’s a wish I can grant,” Journee kissed the top of her head before turning to us to explain. “The Archive’s been behaving this way off and on for the past few hours. This is now the fourth time. We’ve checked the patron levels, every wing, and the Vault, but everything’s been locked down and secured. There are no signs of breach, external magic, or threat that we can perceive. We have no idea what, but something’s wrong.”
Suddenly, the quaking of the Archive’s tree slowed to a stop. The icicles on her branches rang out like haunting echoes of the Archive’s worry. The materials still shivered and flew quickly to their destination, and the snow still fell in a frenzy, but the tree gave a mighty groan like a house settling into discomfort. Then, a branch descended until it came to a stop directly in front of me. The snowball on the tip of the branch crumbled to the ground. In its place, a single peony bloomed. Its cotton candy petals unfurled slowly yet vividly with a soft dusting of gold to add to its vibrance. For a moment, it was full of life and impossibly out of season among the winter landscape around us.
A knot formed in my throat.
No.
Tears stung my eyes as a flood of emotions threatened to take me under.
When I asked her to be my girlfriend on Halloween, I made her a cupcake bouquet with peonies, dahlias, roses,and hydrangeas. The peonies were my favorites because they reminded me of her the most. Her laugh. Her vivaciousness. Her ability to find the good in the shit. When I looked it up, the meaning of the flower was perfect for her and how I felt about her. Good fortune and prosperity. Honor. Love. Happiness. The only thing that could have made that day better was being there. I had wanted to tell her I loved her then. It almost slipped out. I just didn’t know how much my love for her would grow from that point on, how I would fall in love harder and faster every moment we were together, how I would do everything for her.
“Byrd…” I whispered, barely audible to me over my heart shattering in my chest.
But, everyone else was able to hear me.
“Did you just say ‘Byrd’?” Izzy’s expression shifted instantly, concern turning into confusion. She looked from me to the Archive’s tree. When she spoke to her, her voice was gentle but weighted as the realization was dawning on her. “Archive? Is that… Is that what this is about? You were so uncertain even before. Is it because of Byrd?”
A soft breeze seemingly from nowhere blew the icicles against each other. Something about it felt affirmative with an edge of pain. The Archive knew.
Byrd loved this place, and it was clear their connection wasn’t one-sided. The Archiveknew.
Before I realized what I was doing, I reached out toward the flower. I grazed the soft petals, barely touching their edges. Then, dark red veins appeared where the flower was connected to the branch to the end of each petal. The gold dust dulled. The vibrant pink color faded away. The petals wrinkled and started to fall away. The flower was wilting.
My tears spilled over at the sight.
No.
Fuck.
The Archive set the flower in my hand. The red pulsed slower there, the pink returned to some degree, but it still wasn’t healed and was wasting away. I hoped that wasn’t an omen for what was to come.
Rhois’s eyes never left the flower in my hand as she took a step forward, her voice trembling with emotion.“Wait, this is about Byrd? Where is she? What’s happened to her?”
I swallowed deeply, my mouth suddenly dry despite the wetness running down my cheeks. I hated saying the words over and over again. I hated talking about it. But, if I was ever going to see her again, it was a necessary evil that I would do however many times I needed to. “Sh-she was taken.”
The words left my mouth and echoed in the stillness. Three pairs of golden brown, dark blue, and teal eyes turned to me, wide and in pure, unadulterated shock.
“Taken?” Izzy said, her voice barely more than a breath. Her wings shifted and unfurled behind her as if bracing against something unseen. “What do you mean?”
