Page 38 of Blood of Night (The Thorne Hill)

“Abby. Right. Abby, Phil, and Penny.”

“Who are Phil and Penny?”

I get another stabbing pain, right between my eyes, but this time I grit my teeth and fight through it. And now it’s like I can’t remember anything, like I’m trying to recall events after a night of wild drinking.

“I think they’re…they’re friends from work.” I look out the window, feeling like I’m being watched. “I, um, I…what were we talking about?”

“I don’t know.” Easton rubs his temple. “I have a headache. No more wine after nine PM for either of us.”

“Right?” I shake my head and go into the bathroom to shower, unable to shake the nagging feeling. I turn on the water and stick my hand in, waiting for the water to warm up. As soon as the water touches my fingers, I get a flash of being pulled into murky water and slowly sinking below the surface covered with green algae and lily pads.

Shaking my head, I strip out of my tank top and get into the shower, quickly rinsing off and washing my face. I get out and wrap a towel around myself and the feeling that something is wrong comes back tenfold to the point where I have to grip the counter and make myself take several deep breaths.

“You all right?” Easton comes into the bathroom and turns the overhead fan on.

“I um…I can’t get rid of the feeling that I’m missing something. Something big.” I bring my hand to my chest. “And I don’t mean just like I forgot to lock the deadbolt or left my phone on the nightstand. I mean missing, like a piece of my heart is gone.” I don’t know how else to explain the hidden grief that’s suddenly weighing me down.

“It’s okay,” Easton says gently and comes up behind me. His hands land on my waist, gently squeezing me. I like the physical touch but it feels wrong at the same time.

Because he’s not the one I’m supposed to be with.

I inhale and straighten up, turning around in his arms. He’s familiar yet shouldn’t be this close. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here,” I say slowly and I watch the conflicting emotions play across Easton’s face.

“Why shouldn’t we? We’re happy, aren’t we?”

“I think so…but…something is missing,” I press. “I don’t remember opening any wine last night. Or going to bed. Where did I go to college? And Black Ink isn’t a real publisher.” I close my eyes, feeling tears well behind my eyelids. “And you…you’re not a politician. It’s the last thing you’d want to do.”

“Maybe it was because I was never given the chance,” Easton says, taken aback by his own words. His hands fall from my waist, and he looks away, brows coming together. “We deserve to be happy. You…you deserve to not have to live…live in the dark.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper as it comes rushing back. We were walking to the Covenstead so I could have Evander help me with the oracle—the fucking oracle that’s going to get Lucas back.

My husband.

The love of my life.

The father of my child.

“Juliet.” Desperation to get back to my daughter fuels me, and the rest of the facade fades away. We’re in some sort of alternate reality. I don’t know how, but— “The fucking ring.”

“What ring? And who’s Juliet?” Easton’s eyes glaze over and he smiles. “You need to get ready for work. You have the presentation today.”

“Easton,” I say slowly and take a step back, remembering I’m only in a towel. “You have to remember. This isn’t our life.”

Shaking his head, Easton goes out of the bathroom. I stand there a moment, racking my brain trying to think of why this happened. Because if I can figure out thewhyI can get us home. Re-tucking the towel around my breasts, I go into my closet to get dressed. It’s so weird to know things about this fake life while remembering that it’s just that—fake.

And fake-Callie has horrible taste in clothes. I end up in teal athletic pants and a matching sports bra with a white t-shirt overtop. It’s not my first choice in color, but at least I can move around easily in this and I plan on kicking as much ass as I need to in order to get home. Raking my hair into a ponytail as I walk, I go into the living room and find Easton standing by the floor to ceiling windows. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and is looking out at the skyline.

And that’s when it hits me that it’s not so much that Easton doesn’t remember his real life, it’s that he doesn’twantto. I stop, unsure what to say. Is this the life Easton wanted for himself? Free from demons and magic, settling down with someone, getting a job, and living a normal life? There’s no way either of us could ever live a life that’s normal by most people’s standards. Even if he hung up his demon-hunting hat and I bound my powers, we know too much.

But this? This would be the last thing I’d expect from either of us…which makes me wonder if whatever or whoever is crafting this alternate reality doesn’t know us well at all. Right? Maybe? Ugh. I don’t fucking know. No matter what, I’m not a Martin. But would Nancy or William question it if I never had magic? Still, I wouldn’t be chummy with William and Scott. They’re assholes with asshole views and support asshole laws.

Working at a publisher is somewhat believable, I suppose. I’ve always loved to read.

“Easton?” I ask quietly and take a few more steps into the room. “I need you to really think about it. This life doesn’t make sense. We don’t have a past in this life. And I need us both to snap out of it somehow because I have a daughter who needs me. Neither of us knows what’s going on, really going on, but we both know it’s not good. We’re in an alternate reality or a dream or something and we need to snap the fuck out of it.”

Searing pain hits me in the head again, so strong it makes me drop to my knees and cry out. I get a flash of the woods…of sunlight glinting off a green gemstone. We were walking to the Covenstead but then…then…suddenly we weren’t. Everything is fuzzy from there, but the smell of stagnant water fills my nose and the desperation of wanting to break free from something makes me want to scream.

“Babe?” Easton’s hand lands on my shoulder and I jerk my head up. He knows I hate pet names…so why is he calling me by one? I open my mouth to tell him, but then I suddenly can’t remember.

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