Glass Heart (19 page)

It doesn’t look like he’s moved. For a moment, he looks so much like Danny did, lying on the same bed just months ago, dead and undead and hurting all because of me, that my stomach turns with horror.

But the feeling twists itself into something new a moment later: determination. No way am I losing Gabriel. Absolutely not.

“Give me a book,” I say, facing the others again. “I’m figuring this out right now.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

THREE HOURS LATER, I’M AS READY AS I’M
ever going to be. The words in the books are running together, and every new suggestion is just confusing the issue. Dad keeps muttering about “what this kid did to Gabriel” and every time he says, “this kid,” his voice drops into a growl. Mom and Mari are propping up each other in exhaustion, and Olivia is passed out on the couch. Jude’s flipping through the books so intensely, she barely says a word, scribbling notes on a pad beside her instead.

I’m done. I’m getting my boyfriend back
now
.

I raised Danny from the grave without a book, after all, even if I did crib some notes. I can heal Gabriel, too.

“Okay,” I say, standing up, and it’s so quiet in the room that everyone jumps. Even Olivia stirs on the sofa, and Mari goes over to get her up.

“Honey, did you find something?” Mom asks. She’s rubbing her eyes.

“Sort of.” I attempt a smile. “I’m just using basic principles here, but I think it will work with enough, well, power behind it.”

Dad looks stricken and even afraid. I don’t have time to deal with how awful that makes me feel for him, though. “You know I can’t . . .”

“I know, it’s okay.” I nod at him, and Jude closes her book and looks up at me, hands folded.

“Basic principles” are just that, and I don’t want to admit that some of them I borrowed from
Buffy
and
Charmed
. But I explain that we’ll need a circle, and they’ll have to repeat the words I give them three times.

Not to mention the full force of everyone’s power hurled at Gabriel like magical grenades. Peaceful, healing magical grenades anyway.

“It could work,” Mari says, and Olivia murmurs, “It has to work.”

“I wish Mom was here,” my mother says, finally looking up at my dad. Her smile is rueful, brief, and she reaches across the table to squeeze his hand just as quickly. “Thank you, Sam.”

He shakes his head. “Least I can do. Literally.” He touches my shoulder as he passes, and I lean into it for a second, letting the warmth bleed in. “I’m going to see what Robin’s up to. I’m . . . I’m so sorry I can’t do more, kiddo.”

Gratitude wells up like blood from a wound, hot and urgent. “Daddy, you’ve . . . you’ve done a lot. Thank you.” I take a minute to hug him hard, drinking in the solid comfort of him. It’s beginning to feel familiar again.

“Now? Please?” Olivia’s voice is a husk of sound as she waits at the doorway to Gabriel’s room. Dad watches as the five of us walk inside, but I hear the door to the apartment open and close as we gather two on each side of Gabriel’s bed and me at the foot. He’s still lost somewhere, drifting, anchored here by nothing but his body.

It’s up to us now.

“You know I don’t . . . have abilities, right?” Olivia whispers to me.

“Intentions matter more than magic,” Jude tells her with a smile, and Olivia relaxes.

“I have to get a few things,” I tell them. “For now, just stand here in a circle, and think the best, most healing thoughts you can at him. If you pray, go ahead. It won’t hurt.”

Mom’s expression is pinched with concern, but she nods, and all four of them close their eyes, hands clasped. The simple gesture is so powerful, I have to choke back tears.

I find a candle in the kitchen, and Olivia’s been growing lavender on the kitchen windowsill for a few months. It’s not much, but it’s supposed to be good for love and healing. I take a bowl down from the cabinet and gently strip leaves and petals into the bottom of the bowl. I don’t have my athame, but a kitchen knife will probably do just as well. I scrub it clean with steaming-hot water and soap and carry all of it into the other room.

The hush is calming, so I walk softly to the end of the bed and place the bowl on the mattress between Gabriel’s feet. I put the candle on the dresser and light it with a pack of matches I found in the kitchen drawer, and turn around to face the others.

“Okay, this is not the best idea, but I think it will help. If you don’t want to do this part, you don’t have to.” I hold up the knife a little sheepishly. “Just a drop from your fingertip will do it, I think.”

“Oh, Wren,” Mom says, but she disappears for a moment and comes back with a wet paper towel. “Wipe it in between. Well.”

I make the first prick and hand the knife to Olivia. It doesn’t take much to squeeze a fat drop from my finger, and it darkens the lavender when it falls. The others follow without a word, and when I’ve put the knife away everyone joins hands again.

“Repeat the last part after me three times, okay?” I tell them, and take one last look at Gabriel, pale and motionless, before I close my eyes to begin.

Please, please let this work
.

My voice shakes with the first words.

We call upon greater powers to heal this boy

For him we seek peace and health

His life was cursed, to heal him is our plea

Spirits bright, spirits kind

Brigid, Airmid, Dian Cécht

All the hooded spirits

Witness our invocation

To health you return, Gabriel

Peace awaits you

A curse has no hold on you anymore

By the light of the sun

By the light of our love

We command this to be

With this symbol of Gabriel

With our blood

We command this to be

Heal him, great spirits

Heal him, powers kind

Heal him, great spirits

Heal him, powers good

Four voices join me as I repeat the last verse, echoing twice more—Mom’s soft and steady, Jude’s determined, Olivia’s breaking with tears. Mari’s voice is strong and sweet, completely confident, and I want to hug her.

I take a deep breath before I open my eyes, and we’re all frozen, hands clasped tight, staring at Gabriel with dread and hope and love. The silence rings all around us, complete and stark, and then Gabriel gasps.

Olivia’s grip tightens so hard, I wince, and Jude steps back from the bed, hand to her mouth. Mom and Mari are still frozen, waiting.

And me? I’m pushing them out of the way to lean over him, shaking so hard I can barely see. “Gabriel?”

He draws another long, shuddering breath, and opens his eyes. They’re fogged, unfocused, but in another moment they’re clear, narrowing and blinking and the eyes I love.

I’m the first thing he sees. And his slow, sleepy smile is all I need.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“SO WHAT HAPPENED?” JESS BLOWS ON HER
latte so hard the whipped cream ripples. “Is he okay now?”

“It’s migraines, I guess,” I tell her, but I’m staring into my own coffee. Geoff made it special for me, and there’s a bag of pastries and cookies in the back to take to Gabriel and Olivia when I leave. Gabriel has grown on him, and even Trevor thinks, and I quote, that Olivia is “adorable enough to eat.”

“I’m so sorry we missed the last song,” I say to Darcia, who’s nibbling her way through a ginger-cranberry muffin with brown-butter-cinnamon glaze. Or something. I hate it when Geoff makes things that take longer to say than to eat. “You were awesome, though.”

Dar actually smirks. She licks a shiny smear of sugar off her finger, and says, “Well, next time, hopefully you won’t have to miss it.”

Jess lifts a brow. “Next time?”

Dar bites her bottom lip, but her grin escapes anyway. “They asked me back. Next month.”

“No way!” I high-five her across the table, and Jess leans over to plant a noisy kiss on her cheek. “Rock star all the way. I told you.”

“I don’t know about rock star,” Dar protests, but she’s still beaming when she bites into her muffin again.

“I’ll do all the promotion.” Jess is gazing out the window, mouth pursed as she plans. “Email blasts, Facebook, free MP3s. Wren, you can be the tour photographer.”

Dar and I both laugh, but I like the idea. After everything that’s happened, it won’t be a huge deal if it’s too late to join yearbook, but I’m still going to try. What stings is that I came so close to believing magic was the only thing that made me special.

I shake off the thought of Bay and pick up my coffee. “I have to go in a minute. I told Gabriel I’d come over now that he’s not, you know, writhing in pain.”

Jess snorts a laugh, and I manage a smile, because there’s nothing else to say. Migraines never killed anyone, as far as I know. But what happened to Gabriel was close.

“Hey,” Dar says, touching my hand. “He is okay, right?”

I straighten up, trying not to shiver. “He is. And I should probably take him the instant sugar high Geoff provided.”

“Call later,” Jess says as I get up from the table, and my smile is wider this time. These are my friends, and I don’t need anyone different. We’re all pretty perfect just the way we are.

It’s still cold as I walk to Gabriel’s, blue and clear, and I’m surprised to find him sitting on the front steps. He’s bundled into his heaviest jacket, and a gray wool scarf is looped around his neck. He stands up when he sees me.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask him, stretching up to kiss him. His lips are chilly and smooth.

“I had to escape,” he says, and takes the café bag to peek inside. “My sister is in full hover mode. I think she has a future as a spacecraft.”

I elbow him as we sit down on the steps together, and he pulls one of my feet toward his, lining them up side by side. He’s wearing the blue sneakers from the pictures, and I’m in my Docs, as usual. I lean my head on his shoulder and reach for his hand, tangling our fingers together.

“So that happened,” Gabriel finally says, and I have to laugh even as I elbow him again. “What?”

I don’t want to ruin this moment. I don’t want to ruin anything again, ever, especially not between the two of us. But the last few days have washed over me like a wave, rinsing so much clean, and I feel lighter than I have in a long time.

Until I think about Gabriel.

“It’s your turn, you know,” I say after thinking about the words carefully.

“My turn to . . . cast an evil spell on someone?” He makes a face, but he’s smiling.

“To spill, Gabriel.” I stand up so I can face him, but it’s hard not to pace back and forth on the walk. “I can’t even explain what it was like when you were lying in that bed, in so much pain. I haven’t been that scared in . . . Well, you know the last time I was that scared.”

His brows touch, furrowing into the beginning of a frown, but he doesn’t look away.

“I can’t lose you, Gabriel. I love you.” I shrug and let the words hang there, simple and honest, completely unadorned. “But I keep wondering who it is I love. There are so many things I know about you, but they all have to do with, well, me. That you would never hurt me, that you want me to be happy, that you want me to be safe. It’s beginning to feel like I made you up, you know? The perfect boyfriend, who’s always there, who gives me the most awesome gifts ever, who takes a frigging magical
bullet
for me. But it’s like . . . it’s like looking in a mirror or something. I can take care of myself, you know? What I want is . . .” I trail off, sighing. “I want to know
you
, Gabriel. The way you know me.”

He unfolds himself from the steps, long and lean and so quiet I want to shake him. Instead, I wait while he walks toward me, offering a hand. “Let’s walk, huh?”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“I feel fine.” He squeezes my hand. “No magic hangover at all.”

I’m not sure this was true yesterday, because he woke up groggy and disoriented, and it took a few hours of nodding in and out of painless sleep for him to totally be himself again. But I’m not going to argue.

“It’s, you know, hard to talk about this stuff,” Gabriel says when we’re halfway down the block.

“What stuff?”

He groans. “If I could just barf it out, it wouldn’t be hard.”

“No barfing.” I bump his hip with mine. “What’s the hardest part? Start there maybe? Get it over with?”

He stops suddenly, and I stumble against him, startled. But when I see the look on his face, I let the snark on my tongue dissolve. “It’s nothing really horrible. Me, I mean. I didn’t kill a man in Vegas, and I’m not, like, an alien, and my sister isn’t secretly in hiding from the mob or something. It’s just . . .” He swallows hard. “It’s just my dad.”

I take both of his hands in mine. “We all have them, you know, one way or another. You can
tell
me, Gabriel.”

An elderly woman is coming up the sidewalk with a beagle that looks just as old, and we move to one side so she can pass. Gabriel watches her go and finally looks down at me again.

“It’s just . . . it’s nothing to be proud of. Your dad, even though he left, he never wanted to hurt you, you know? That’s why he left. To keep all of you safe.”

I know he’s trying, and for a moment the world rocks to a halt. We’re balanced over something deep, something dark, and all I can do is hold on as we fall.

“I know my story, Gabriel,” I say when he’s silent for too long. “Tell me yours.”

He lets go of my hands and starts walking again. He’s running from something, even if it’s just telling me, but I catch up and grab his arm. I’m startled to find he’s already talking. “. . . in prison now, in Ohio. He’s a con man, Wren. It’s the only job he’s ever had, really. I think my mom thought he was . . . something else. Maybe I just want to believe that, I don’t know.”

I can’t say anything yet. I have to let him tell it all, the way he wants to. But I tuck my hand into his jacket pocket as we walk.

“He used her, all the time.” His eyes skid sideways, judging my reaction, and I just nod. “He used her gift to scam people. And then she got sick. So he used me instead.”

Horror uncoils in my stomach, raw and sharp. But he’s not done yet.

“And after my mom died, he dragged us all over. Long cons took a while, so sometimes we’d get to stay somewhere for a few months, but we could never really make friends. And half the time we were living in some trailer or some shithole apartment I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see.”

It’s scary, how dead his voice sounds, how cold and flat. Maybe if he makes it sound like just another thing that happened, a simple fact, it doesn’t hurt as much.

“He’s hurt people, Wren.” When he looks at me this time, I can see the shame of it in his eyes. “I just . . . We’re done with him, me and Olivia. But he’ll be out one day. And I never want him to find us, or you. I never . . . I never wanted to have to tell you what I come from.”

“But it’s not your fault!” I throw my arms around him, squeezing tight. “You have to know that. You and Olivia, you’re good people, Gabriel. Whatever your father did, that’s on him. Seriously.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. “But . . . I come from that.”

“So what?” I step back, throwing my hands in the air. “So. What. It’s not a disease, Gabriel. Your father made choices and so did you. You and Olivia, you chose to come here, to start over, to leave him behind. Every day, you’re not living the life your father did. How can you not see that?”

He stares at me, and that dark, deep place closes up in the space of one breath. After a moment, something like a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “So you’re saying I’m, like, a total moron.”

“Pretty much.” I kick the toe of one sneaker with my boot, gently. “My boyfriend, the giant dumbass.”

He actually laughs. “You could make a T-shirt. ‘I’m with Dumbass.’”

“I think I will.” I grab his hand and turn us around so we’re headed back toward his apartment. After a second, I pull him closer and glance up at him. “Thank you. For telling me that.”

He shrugs, dorky cute when he’s sheepish. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it before.”

We walk in silence for a little while, but it’s comfortable, familiar. It’s nice, until I realize my own words are echoing in my head:
“Every day, you’re not living the life your father did.”

And neither am I. For the first time since Gabriel told me what he’d sensed about my dad, I’m not worried about using my power. I’ve never used magic the way he did, and I don’t want to. I want to explore it, because it is part of me, and it’s pretty cool when it comes right down to it. But I know I have to respect it, too. And that doesn’t seem like a burden.

I feel so light, I think with one breath and a little focus I could float up over the rooftops and into the trees. Maybe even take Gabriel with me. And inside me, my magic is still wide-open sky. I know I can fly when I want to.

I tug Gabriel’s hand to get him to stop, and step backward. “How good do you feel?”

“I told you, I feel fine!” He rolls his eyes. “Wow, now I know what I must sound like.”

“Fine, huh?” I grin, and turn him so his back is to me.

Then I push him into a crouch and climb on. “You are fine,” I whisper in his ear when he’s standing up and not laughing anymore. “Take me up to your place and show me how fine, huh?”

I’m pretty sure he’s blushing as he heads toward home.