inevitablepub Read online

  “If you kiss me like that because I haven’t seen you in two days, then we need to spend more time apart,” he said.

  I smiled sadly. Yes, I’d missed him but with Kalina’s dreary words fresh in my ears, I couldn’t get enough of him. His warmth seeped into me, proving he was real, here, solid, and, in this moment, healthy. I brought my lips back to his. My fingers crept up his neck until they tangled in his hair. Deepening the kiss, I pulled him closer. He groaned into my mouth.

  “Look what I found!” My father walked toward us, a silver sword in hand. He held it up and the ruby-eyed dragon on the hilt glittered in the hallway light. “This is the one you liked, right Brent?”

  Brent held up his hands like he was surrendering. “That’s the one.”

  My father’s burst of laughter and wink was his only answer.

  “That isn’t funny!” I knew my dad was only kidding, but the words ate away at me. I couldn’t handle even hinting at Brent dying. Not after Kalina’s words.

  My dad lowered the sword and frowned at me. “It was a joke. You know I like Brent.”

  “Yara—” Brent started.

  “I know. I know.” I took a deep breath and shook my head, but I couldn’t stop the shaking in my hands. “It’s just been a rough day.”

  I really didn’t want to get into it right then. Everything felt too raw. I took a deep breath. “On that happy note, we better leave or we’ll be late.”

  “Not dressed like that, Queridinha. It’s raining outside and he likes it too much.” My dad flashed a halfhearted grin and pointed an accusing finger at Brent, easing the tension.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek before retrieving my coat and an umbrella from the hall closet and heading out.

  I turned the music up loud in the car—leaving the station on one of Brent’s favorites instead of turning it to jazz. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened in the hallway. I couldn’t. Not yet.

  Cherie and Steve were already seated when we arrived. The wood and dark leather gave the restaurant a rustic feel, and the tantalizing smell of the barbeque made my mouth water. Our friends were in a booth near the back that had a view of the Dos Lagos lakes. They were smiling so wide, I knew something big had happened.

  Before I even sat down, Cherie jumped to her feet.

  “We’re engaged!”

  She stuck out her hand to show me the huge diamond on her finger. I grabbed her hand and brought it closer to my face. The gem sparkled, even in the dim light.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Cherie gushed.

  “Oh. Wow. I don’t even know what to say.”

  “‘Congratulations’ works,” Brent said, giving Cherie a hug and leaning across the table to thump Steve on the back.

  An emotion I really didn’t want to name swelled in my throat. I swallowed it down and forced a smile.

  “Congratulations,” I finally managed, throwing my arms around Cherie. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Cherie squealed, jumping up and down. I knew I should be celebrating with her, but I couldn’t. I could barely manage fake enthusiasm. Keeping the artificial grin on my lips, I slid into the booth next to Brent.

  “When Steve and I broke up I thought it was the end for us,” Cherie admitted. “I thought we’d never end up here.”

  “Our breakup taught me a lot. “ Steve pressed a kiss to Cherie’s temple and gazed at her in adoration. “Like that my life was crap without her.”

  “So, when is the big day?” Brent asked.

  “I’m trying to convince her to elope to Vegas this weekend,” Steve said. “Or maybe to get hitched while bungee jumping, but she isn’t having it.”

  “My parents would kill us.” She leaned against his side. “We’re going to have to be engaged for about a year. I want my bachelors degree first. That gives me plenty of time to plan. I’m not sure where we should get married though.”

  I mentally shook myself. I was happy for Cherie and Steve. Ecstatic. They deserved this. Pushing past my own feelings I focused on possible wedding venues. As they talked, ideas and images of different wedding locations flitted through my mind until it snagged on one.

  I cleared my throat and everyone gave me their attention. “As the self-appointed maid of honor, I know the perfect location,” I said.

  “As if anyone else would even be in the running for the position.” Cherie clasped her hands together. “Where do you suggest?”

  “The Queen Mary.”

  Cherie’s mouth hung open. “Oh. My. Stiletto. Heels. That is perfect.”

  “The old ocean liner?” Brent asked helping himself to one of the garlic rolls on the table. “The one dubbed the Grey Ghost?”

  “And had a bounty put on it by Hitler. Yes, that’s the one.” Cherie started counting off the reasons it was perfect on her fingers. “It has history. It’s gorgeous. It’s on the water, so it’s near the beach if we want pictures there. And most importantly, it’s haunted.”

  “Of course there would be ghosts.” Steve rubbed his finger across Cherie’s engagement ring. “It sounds perfect. I couldn’t care less where it happens, only that it does.”

  Feeling much more in the mood, I held out my hand. “Let me see that rock again.” Cherie extended her hand, wiggling her ring finger. The large pear shaped solitaire stood out amid the crisscrossed bands of diamonds set in the platinum ring. “You did good Steve. It’s very Cherie.”

  “I know my woman.” Steve puffed out his chest. “So, Brent, are you going to be the best man at my haunted wedding?”

  Brent nodded. “Of course, if I’m alive.” He laughed, but there was no humor behind it. “I’m sure I can squeeze in a tux fitting between Crosby, the Council, and the hunt for the scroll.”

  Guilt hit me with the precision of a sharp shooter. Brent didn’t know the scroll had burned. My body had pretty much shut down this afternoon, so no one except Kalina, DJ, and I knew the truth, but Brent needed to know. I had to tell him.

  Steve’s smile wobbled for a second. “Well, since you have nothing going on, I expect you to be standing beside me when I get married.”

  Cherie took her hand back and I let mine rest on the table. My bracelets shifted and the angry black and blue shape of DJ’s fingers stood out against my skin. Brent’s eyes narrowed and I held my breath.

  “What happened?” Brent asked.

  “That looks bad.” Cherie squinted at my arm. “I thought Grady’s bruises were healing.”

  I blushed. “Um, they are.”

  “Grady?” Brent took my arm and gently shifted the bracelets aside.

  Cherie stared at my wounds. “Wait. Grady’s bruises were on your neck and mostly on your other arm. These are new. Did Kalina do that to you?”

  This was not how I had planned to tell Brent. I kicked Cherie under the table.

  She grimaced. “Ow.”

  “Kalina? Who’s Grady?” I now had Brent’s full attention. “What’s going on? What have I missed?”

  Brent’s head swiveled between Cherie and me. Before I could pull away, Brent unknotted the scarf around my neck. His lips thinned when he saw the marks.

  “I didn’t want you to worry, but I’ve had a couple of run-ins recently.” I really didn’t want to tell him, not just about the ghost attacks, but also about the scroll. I had to. I knew it, but it didn’t change the ball of dread rolling in my stomach.

  Brent’s nostrils flared. “Run-ins? Plural?”

  I swallowed and held my hand up. “Before I start, please remember, I am here with you all safe and sound.”

  Brent didn’t say anything. Cherie and Steve watched us from the other side of the table. If they’d had popcorn, I was sure they’d be munching on it like they were watching a gripping scene in a movie.

  I wiped the condensation off my glass. “One of the spirits who attacked me in Brazil found me at the bookstore here.”

  “And you di—”

  “Turns out his name is Grady and he’s being compelled against his
will to work for Crosby.” I glanced at a scowling Brent. “I’ve been researching him so I can try and break the compulsion next time I see him.”

  Brent opened his mouth and I rushed to finish before he spoke. “Then Kalina came today, and she was giving me the scroll.” Brent’s eyes widened and he leaned forward. “But a compelled DJ and two other ghosts attacked us and burned it. I managed to get free, grab some powder, and throw it at them. Then they vanished.”

  The three of them were completely silent.

  “And that’s it.” I folded my hands on the table and waited.

  Finally Brent pushed his hair out of his eyes. “DJ’s working for Crosby again? That guy has been bad news since he threw that rock at you.”

  “It isn’t his fault.”

  “I. Don’t. Care.” Brent’s face turned almost purple. “He hurt you. And if he wasn’t dead I would kill him myself.”

  “That’s what you care about?” I shook my head. “He destroyed the scroll. That’s what I’m not sure I can forgive. We’ll never know what it said about the cure.”

  “I doubt it could help me at all.” Brent waved off my concern. His forehead wrinkled. “What bothers me is that he hurt you.”

  “I’m okay.” I sighed and leaned against him.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about all of this.”

  I peeked at him from under my lowered eyelashes. “I understand now why you didn’t tell me about seeing the ghosts.”

  Brent groaned. “I guess I deserve that. But having stuff kept from you sucks. You were right. No more secrets. Agreed?”

  “Deal.”

  He held out his hand and I shook it, then he brushed his lips against mine

  I kissed him once more before asking, “Are you upset about the scroll?”

  “I’m not sure it matters anyway.” His whole body drooped. While I watched, the inner light that usually shown from him dimmed, like his hope had died. “I really don’t think there’s anything that can cure me.”

  “Don’t say that,” Steve said before I could.

  “There’s still hope, Brent,” Cherie said.

  Brent shrugged and took a sip of water.

  “What’s with that shrug?” I turned in the booth so I could face him. “Does that mean you’ve given up?”

  “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”

  “You told me you still had hope.”

  “That was before I knew our one clue went up in flames. Most of my positive thoughts went with it.”

  His brown eyes seemed dead, lifeless.

  I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. How could he say that? He couldn’t give up hope. Not when I was so close to losing mine.

  “Brent, a positive attitude alone can help a patient live longer and—”

  “Cherie, Please stop. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m still going to search for answers, and fight.” His mouth may have said what I wanted to hear, but his tone, his expression, the half dead look in his eyes told me he didn’t believe them.

  “I told you about what Kevin said when he appeared to me,” I said.

  “I remember.” Brent’s gaze slid from mine. He cleared his throat before bringing one of his hands to his lips and biting his fingernail. “How are you going to deal with the DJ problem?”

  I didn’t want to let him change the topic, to let him off the hook, but how could I make him care if he didn’t want to? I couldn’t. Instead of following that depressing thought down a dark rabbit hole, I cleared my throat and made myself answer his question. “I’m going to talk to Vovó tonight about putting up wards to keep DJ out. Originally she had it so he could get in, but obviously that has to change. I’m not sure how the other two got in. Hopefully she’ll know.”

  “Do it tonight.” Brent’s tone didn’t allow for arguing. But his voice softened as he added, “Please. I won’t be able to sleep if I have to worry about another attack.”

  It was hard to argue when I could tell how truly concerned he was for my safety. I wish he were as concerned for his own. “I promise.”

  After that it took a while for the conversation to start rolling again, but by the time the waitress took our order, Cherie and Steve at least seemed to have returned to their previous emotional high. As they talked and planned, my eyes kept flickering between the ring on Cherie’s finger and my own bare one.

  Jealousy twisted in my gut as they smiled at each other. I hated myself for it. There they sat planning a life together. A life free of ghosts and corrupt politicians. They could plan a future that didn’t involve a countdown clock to death. At least Cherie knew that Steve loved her enough to plan on spending the rest of his life with her.

  Brent had never brought up marriage. Not once. But even if he did, how long did I really have with Brent? Not long enough. My chest constricted and my stomach churned with acidity as Kalina’s prediction echoed in my mind.

  Nothing changes it. Brent dies.

  I felt like a rowboat, adrift and alone in the middle of a vast, empty ocean.

  Brent sat stiff as an ironing board beside me. Still feeling adrift in my metaphorical rowboat, I reached out to grab his hand. He tucked it under his leg. The rejection stung, and my heart felt like it had been pummeled with a hammer.

  I tightened the muscles in my throat, fighting the tears gathering in my eyes. “I need to use the restroom.”

  Cherie and Steve only had eyes for each other, but Brent’s head snapped toward me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I gave him a tight smile and slid out of the booth. It was a lie, but what else could I say? I didn’t want to ruin this moment for Cherie and Steve. They deserved it, and I didn’t want to take it away by making this moment about me. My problems already took up too much of their time.

  The tears started to fall before I reached the restroom. A hand I immediately recognized as Brent’s cradled the nape of my neck. He pulled me into a hug and walked me backwards until we left the restaurant and sat on the wooden benches outside.

  My head rested against his chest and I took comfort in the steady thump of his heartbeat while his fingers ran through my hair. His citrusy-musky scent was almost more torment than comfort in this moment.

  “I know.” I felt his sigh. “That was hard to watch.”

  “It was hard for you too?” I sniffled. “I didn’t think you wanted to get married.”

  His arms gripped me harder. “Is that what you think?”

  I moved my head up and down. “Sort of. You’ve never talked about it. The few times I brought it up last year you changed the subject.”

  “I do want to get married. I want to marry you.” His finger traced around my earlobe. “But we’ll never have that moment.”

  “We could.” I dabbed at my eyes with the sleeve of my coat before tilting my head so I could gaze into his heavenly chocolate brown eyes. His fingers trailed down my neck and around my collarbone.

  “We could . . . but it would be a lie.”

  “A lie?” His words felt like a slap to my face. “That we love each other and want to spend our lives together?”

  “I am going to spend the rest of my life with you. A marriage is to build a future together.” His voice turned gruff. “We don’t have one.”

  My heart withered like a grape left too long on the vine. I turned away and started to get up. He must have read the devastation on my face, because he stopped me and held me in place.

  “Wait. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  I stared at the buttons on his shirt. “I hope not.”

  “If I could plan on living for the next sixty years, you’d be the center of every minute. But a married life involves plans for a house, kids, sitting on the porch bouncing grandkids on our knees. I wish I could give you those things, but I can’t. I won’t be able to.”

  He’d never talked about our future—or lack thereof—in such a blunt way. It hurt, mostly because everything seemed to point to the truthfulness of his words.


  “You can’t tell the future,” I said. As soon as I spoke, I wished I could call back my words. Someone who could see the future already told me he wouldn’t survive this.

  “No, but short of a miracle, I know what’s going to happen to me.” He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “You know I love you. You’re my everything, the reason I’m still fighting this with everything I have. But Yara, the medicine from the Clutch is losing its potency. Even if we can find a way to replicate it, I’ll eventually build up such a tolerance to it that I’ll have to drink gallons of it every day, and eventually that won’t be enough either. There’s no future for us because there’s not one for me. I know I’ll never have the years with you that I dream of. But marrying you . . .”

  He took a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. “Marrying you would do me in. It wouldn’t be a happy celebration. It would only remind me that I’ll never have more than that moment with you, not the lifetime I want.”

  “But . . .”

  “I would do anything for you, Yara, but please don’t ask me to do that. I’m going to spend every last minute I have left with you already. I know it isn’t enough, and I know you deserve more, but I can’t give it to you. Not to mention, I worry if we tied the knot it would be that much harder for you to lose me.”

  “It wouldn’t, Brent. Believe me, nothing is going to make that any harder or easier. When you talk about your death so matter-of-factly, it scares me. You make it sound like it doesn’t matter. I know you’d die for me Brent. You’ve proven that, but do you love me enough to live for me? To keep fighting?”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “Of course I do.”

  A bit of the tension in my chest eased. A tiny bit. “I needed to hear that, needed to know you weren’t giving up.”

  “I’m not, I’m just trying to prepare us both.”

  “Please don’t. It doesn’t help. It only makes it worse.”

  Brent took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t want to die. I want to live a life with you, grow old with you. My heart is yours and I love you, as much as a man is capable of loving a woman. You aren’t just some girl, Yara; you’re the girl. My girl.”