Chapter 15: Julian - Wave - Change

Julian
Wave

* * *

She was already in the hallway by the time I stepped out of my bedroom. I’d changed into dark navy jeans and a black, long-sleeved T-shirt. Exhaustion still pulled at me, and I smelled strongly of antiseptic, but there’d been no time for a shower.

This—and she—would always be a priority.

Bianca had chosen a simple green dress edged with white lace, and black flats. Which would work well enough, especially considering I hadn’t told her where we were going.

Her expression was still slightly off, and her hair hadn’t been touched. Her legs were bare, so it was possible she hadn’t thought much before getting changed.

It didn’t matter; I’d just grab a blanket.

“All right.” At least she didn’t flinch when I touched her shoulder. I led her down the hallway. “Let’s go.”

It was a credit to Damen’s authority that no one intercepted the two of us as we made our way through the house and out the front door. I’d only stopped to grab her jacket, mine, and an extra blanket from the linen closet at the foot of the stairs.

And although she’d come with me without argument, the fifteen-minute drive was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Bianca was tense, her temple resting against the window. Her breath caused the glass to fog. There was no way she could see anything, but it didn’t seem like it bothered her anyway.

It was like she wasn’t even looking to begin with.

The thought of it caused my stomach to twist painfully. Was it me that she was upset with now—she might be scared of me. We’d never been in a situation where I’d been this close to losing my cool with her before.

Or maybe she was still affected by yesterday’s activities.

“How do you feel?” It was still a struggle keeping my voice under control but, thankfully, I didn’t slip.

“Fine,” she whispered, eyes flickering down.

Her shoulders tensed, and it was so hard to not reach across the center console to grab her hand. I wasn’t dense enough to pretend the gesture wouldn’t only be for her comfort either, but then, I would know for sure that she was ‘fine.’

Right now, though, I’d have to rely on body language, because I wasn’t selfish enough to touch her again without reason.

“Okay,” I replied instead. It was impossible to think of anything else that worked in this situation.

Thankfully, we reached the parking lot soon thereafter. I pulled into an open spot near the chain-link fence that supported the entry gate. Bianca didn’t move when I jumped out of the car and only inched back as I opened her door.

“Here.” I held out my hand. My breath was tight in anticipation for two reasons now. “We’re almost there.”

Her eyes were cloudy as they flickered up to meet mine, and I thought she’d refuse. Which would be silly considering that she’d followed me thus far.

But then she let out a small breath and, tentatively, laid her hand in mine.

Fear. Doubt. Disappointment. Her body was thick with it. The effects seemed to sink into my skin like a slowly spreading poison.

However, the only thing I could do was breathe and move on—and to show her how. This was no way to live.

We didn’t say a word as she followed me past the gate and over one of the many cobblestoned pathways. Nor did she complain when the terrain became rougher and we had to pass over skull-sized boulders covered in moss.

My heart was beating faster now, but for a different reason—nerves.

I’d never brought anyone here before.

“We’re here,” I told her, clearing a passageway and gesturing for her to pass.

Bianca glanced at me, then back to the small opening, before, once more, obeying without question, ducking under the leaves and walking through.

“What do you think?” I asked, my anxiety rising as her expression remained eerily unmoved.

This feeling of dread grew with every second she gave no reaction, but I forced myself to press forward. I entered into the grove behind her, letting the brush spring back and cover the pathway again.

I knew this area by memory. The circular clearing was only around two hundred and fifty square feet, and across the outer edge was a small, clear stream that eventually fed directly into the nearest lake. The ground was soft, from both the thick moss grasses and the water itself. But if you knew where to step and where the almost-hidden stones lay along the ground, it was easy to not muddy your shoes at all.

Still, sometimes it was best to have that connection with the earth.

I leaned forward, holding out my hand, palm up, near her knee. “Give me your shoes.”

That got a reaction, though nothing other than a quick flicker of surprise—but she looked at me, at least.

“See.” I kicked off my shoes and rolled up my pant legs.

Bianca chewed on her lip before she finally slipped off her flats and nudged them with her bare foot until they rested alongside mine.

Well, she was responding, but her silence was incredibly frustrating.

But getting annoyed would solve nothing.

I took her by the hand and helped her navigate over the stones until we reached the water. “Sit down.”

Bianca settled onto the large, flat rock, tucking her feet and ankles under her as she rested most of her weight on her left hip. She didn’t speak still, but sat in silence, and without looking at me further, watched the clear water.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bianca.” I pretended to not notice the way she slightly leaned away as I wrapped the stolen blanket around her shoulders. “Can you please talk to me?”

“I didn’t know you were from Texas.”

My heart stopped beating and I almost fell, but managed to catch myself just in time. I swallowed, trying to hold back my sudden influx of bile, as I slowly lowered myself to the stone beside her.

She was watching me curiously, huddled under the blanket with her arms wrapped around her knees. “Are you?” she asked.

“Does it matter?” My voice was rougher than I planned, but she didn’t seem bothered.

“No,” she said as she rested her cheek on her knee. “But that was the first time I ever heard you with an accent.”

Damn it. Why did we have to talk about this? “Miles has an accent.”

“I know.” She didn’t seem to get the hint, and the cloud in her eyes began to fade away. “But he’s never tried to hide it before. I like it; it’s cute.”

She was interested in this subject.

Fuck my life.

“What’s cute?” I was being snippy on impulse, but also, there was nothing ‘cute’ about my accent. She had to be talking about Miles.

“Your accent,” she clarified. “Your mom doesn’t have one.”

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t talking about Miles.

She continued to watch me in that even, unnerving way and her mouth twisted in calculation. If I didn’t clarify or give her something to work with, I knew she’d probably come up with some outlandish theory of her own. While entertaining, being at the mercy of her imagination was not really something I wanted.

There was nothing remotely romantic about my life.

“Yes. I was born, and grew up for a long time, in Texas.” I sighed, turning my focus to the stream. I’d brought her here because the water—and grounds—were purer than most other places in this area. And this stream, in particular, happened to run between the faery realm and ours before it ran into the larger bodies of water. Even the vegetation was touched.

I’d hoped she’d be able to feel something, to draw upon some measure of confidence or feel a connection.

But now it was me who was reaching out with my instincts.

“My mother is from this area but met my father when she went to medical school in Houston,” I told her, making doubly sure to keep my voice even. “We alternated between both places before we finally settled down here.”

“Oh,” was her quiet reply.

And it was probably enough—it wasn’t often she asked questions, so I knew she probably wouldn’t pry further.

But the dam in my chest was threatening to break already, and something needed to give. Otherwise, I’d do something I’d regret.

Then there was this place—one of a few like it in the world—that pulled at me. Past memories ran together in a colorful haze. My skin prickled with conflicting emotions. It was both painful and exhilarating.

There’d only been one person, ever, who I could talk to. I crossed my legs and slumped forward, my hands hanging loosely over my knees.

This was supposed to be about her, and even though it was selfish of me, I couldn’t stop.

“We lived far from the city. My father is a cowboy.” The only good memories I had of the ranch was learning to ride and training the horses. “He’s also an asshole.”

She shifted and rested her head against my arm. There was a hesitance, and I half expected her to ask for clarification. Instead, as always, she acted in the most unexpected way.

“Is he a necromancer too?”

“Yes…” I didn’t see where she was going with this.

A slight pause, then, “A cowboy necromancer?”

I glanced down at her, but she was only looking at me with the utmost sincerity. What was she even imagining now? Still, leave it to her to make a horrible situation less awkward. “Yes…”

Her forehead wrinkled, and she appeared to be seriously contemplating something.

“It’s nothing like you’re imagining,” I warned her, not even needing to know the details. I already knew from experience that she was probably way off base. “Remember, we’ve been born into almost every culture.”

“His last name is ‘Reed’, right?”

I nodded.

My mother had continued to practice under her married name for a few years after their divorce—there’d been too much going on then, and she hadn’t had the time to officially make the name change. It wasn’t until Anthony and I went to her, telling her that we didn’t want it anymore, that we all changed over.

She’d been worried about him fighting the change in court. He’d always claimed superiority and normally would never give away something that gave him an edge. But he never bothered to respond to the lawyer’s letter.

I wasn’t surprised, after what happened between us, he wouldn’t have dared to try.

“He’s still living down there somewhere.” I hoped he was wallowing and suffering and had an otherwise miserable life. “I haven’t seen him since we moved here permanently.” Back to the topic at hand. “But I’ve worked very hard to lose this accent. I’m sorry you had to hear it.”

“I’m not.” She snuggled closer to my arm. “It’s a part of who you are, and it’s not bad even if you think it is. Because you’re not bad. That’s why you talk so slowly, right?”

My chest lurched, but she wasn’t wrong. “Right.”

“I get it.” Bianca began to pick at the blanket. “I have a stutter.”

I knew that, of course, but I still startled in surprise. Despite it being obvious, there’d never been a reason to discuss it before. This was the first time she’d ever brought it up.

“I had a southern accent once.”

My heart was beating faster as my palms itched.

This I didn’t know, because there was zero indication in her voice that she’d grown up anywhere other than here—not even in her own memories that I’d seen. The only other hint we’d been given was the comments she’d made about vegetation and wildlife she’d learned about in her childhood.

“It really bothered Kieran. He spent a lot of time trying to teach me to speak ‘like a noble.’ But once he died, I started slipping. He would have been so upset.” She continued to pick at the blanket. “It went away when I had to learn how to talk again because I picked up the local dialect.”

“There’s nothing wrong with an accent.” Ironic that I was the one convincing her of this now. “We all have accents. If anyone local here were to go somewhere else, they’d be the ones who stood out.”

“I know that.” Bianca looked at me then, confused. “That’s what I was telling you.”

Was it?

Then there was something else she’d said, “You had to learn to talk twice?” I tried to keep my tone nonchalant.

The short burst of victory I’d felt at her openness faded into disappointment as her expression shuttered closed. She chewed the inside of her mouth. Even though it’d come up naturally, I’d pushed too hard.

Bianca surprised me by answering though. “Yes.” She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “There was about a year or so where I forgot how to talk. The girls had to teach me again.”

“The girls?” I wanted to pry further, but even the short glimpses I was getting into her emotions were coming up blank with frustration. There was no point.

“Are you okay?” I asked instead. “I heard you had a rough day yesterday.”

Bianca barely managed to stifle a laugh as she pressed her mouth against her knees. “F-fine.” Her reply was so quiet that I almost missed it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” If nothing else, maybe I could help with this. I lifted my hand, unsure. I’d used my abilities on her in the past, of course, to help calm her when she was especially upset or needed help. But now, doing it without her express permission felt wrong.

I wasn’t sure what it was. On the surface, it didn’t look like anything had changed. She was more fragile than ever, and I still felt the same undeniable pull to protect her. It was the core purpose of my existence.

There was a different sort of strength that wasn’t there when we’d first met.

I knew this, logically—the others have been telling me too.

So why was it so hard to change?

I couldn’t recall a time when it was like this in the past—though some instances had come close. Then again, we were more than our previous lives.

Something about her made it impossible to ignore her pain. “Do you need me to—”

“Yeah. Could you?” I could barely hear her. I half-expected her to refuse my help—she’d only ever accepted it when under duress. So when she agreed this time, it took a moment for her reply to register.

I almost couldn’t breathe, and my face exploded in an uncomfortable heat.

She’d asked.

She was trusting me to take care of her. Me. When she’d been fighting back for weeks with everyone else. I was filled with a renewed sense of purpose.

“Okay.” I trailed my fingers across her shoulders, pulling her closer.

How should we sit? Was it better for me to be holding her, or maybe we should stay as we were? I’d never felt more uncertain despite having done this a dozen times before. But as she suddenly gripped at the front of my shirt, I knew nothing else would feel more right. She fit against me perfectly, and here, within the privacy of a place that straddled both worlds, we were alone in our elements.

There was no need for words—this was about healing; for both of us, it seemed. And even though it would take far more to erase our pasts, we could at least take refuge in this moment.

A low rushing sound filled my ears, and a light shadow fell over my eyes as I delved into my practice. Water was deep and nurturing—although not without a deadly element of its own—and the slow-moving current washed over me, thrumming under my skin until I was cloaked under the force of tranquil serenity.

Like this, I could feel her heart beating as if it were my own, and I was overly aware of every breath she took and any movement.

Bianca relaxed against me, muscles uncurling as she was pulled further from the anxiety that seemed ever-present in the back of her mind. With that, I found myself more at ease too, and my eyes felt heavy as the early morning sunlight finally began to pierce through the trees, offering a miniscule measure of comfort.

We should probably be communicating, but why ruin this moment?

So we sat in silence, the sound of water rippling over stone lulling at my senses until I, too, allowed myself to drift into darkness.

* * *

It was warm when I woke.

I’d moved to my side, my head pressed against something soft and that smelled of newly shaven wood and flowers, but it was not thick enough to cushion the hard ground.

A blanket… And the slight scent of Bianca’s perfume.

I opened my eyes, pushing myself onto my arms. Bianca’s sweater had been rolled into a ball and placed under me for a pillow, and the afghan that I’d snagged for her fell to the ground.

But where was she?

The stirrings of panic gripped at me. I was about to leap to my feet when I spotted her.

She sat still as a stone along the edge of the stream, not reacting in any way to my presence. Her long hair was swept into a wild mess behind her, and her moss-colored skirt was bunched above her knees as her legs were stretched out in front of her. Her bare toes touched the top of the water as her attention remained fixated at her feet.

The water had to be cold—it was November, after all—but she didn’t seem to notice. And I should have gone to her immediately. I was supposed to be taking care of her. But I didn’t.

I was overcome with emotion. Even though we were all, technically, creatures of legend, I couldn’t stop staring.

The events of the last few days—the last two months—were forgotten as a familiar sense of longing caused my pulse to race and the hair on the back of my neck to stand. We’d been like this before, although all the memories hadn’t entirely caught up to me yet, and everything in me told me things could be the same again.

I needed it to be. So, so badly.

But then her tired eyes bored woundedly into mine, and my heart sank.

Not yet. She wasn’t ready.

“Julian?” Her voice was soft, non-commanding and unsure. My resolve steadied. She was far from ready. “Are you okay? Did you get enough sleep?”

Sleep…

Now that she’d mentioned it, I did feel better. “How long was I out?” I’d left my cell in the car and couldn’t quite see the sun from the cover of the trees.

Bianca twisted, reaching into her pocket for her own phone. “Three hours. I told the others that you were fine and to leave you alone.”

A surge of annoyance passed through me. Even after I told them to stay out of it, they still couldn’t hold back. “They asked?”

“No.” Bianca was still looking at the screen. “But I told them anyway, because I knew they would be worried.”

That still didn’t make it any less annoying. There was only one person who I wanted checking up on me.

She finally glanced up. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” I replied, and it was true. I’d never slept here before, but it did help. I would need a couple more hours of rest before feeling fully alive again, but this was the best I’d ever felt after going through a twenty-four-hour rotation.

Her face was pinched with concern and exhaustion. She might not talk about it, but I didn’t even have to ask to know. This wasn’t the time. But I could still press this part at least. “How do you feel? Honestly.”

Bianca had been fidgeting, tapping her finger against the screen of her phone, and at my question she froze. I didn’t need to clarify what I meant; I could tell by the deer-in-headlights look that she knew.

Her pale lips parted, and my pulse roared as I expected panic. It would have been par for the course, although I could always hope for something different.

We still had so much left to do, and now I had to fix the mistakes that the others had made.

But she surprised me.

“Not entirely okay, but better.” She’d returned my answer back to me, but it wasn’t sarcasm. Her voice held a measure of serenity that she’d never had before. “I like it here,” she said, looking measuredly around the grove.

It was this place, but also her.

Maybe Mu was right—I was underestimating her. He would know. Sometimes when I saw her—frail and afraid—it was hard to remember her strength. It was easy to be ruled by instinct, to protect what was mine.

She was mine, but she was also Mu. That made her more.

Bianca was never meant to be contained. Spring was power, growth, and life—even if it was painful. I had no right to intervene with her growth, however she wanted it.

Remembering this would be the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, and, quite frankly, I wasn’t sure I could do it.

But I had to try.

My body felt lighter as I stood. I held my hand out for her. She tucked her legs under her, coming to her knees, and our fingers touched. “I like it here too.”

Bianca blushed and I pulled her to her feet.

She didn’t have to reply. The sound of her sharp breath echoed in my ears. I was hyper-aware of her racing heartbeat and the way her nerves electrified under my fingers. It had always been this way, of course, but the more we were around each other, the harder it was to ignore.

But I had to. Because once I started down that path, there’d be no going back. It was her physical reactions that I thrived on—even those she tried to conceal.

Neither of us were even close to ready for that.

“Do you want to get a late breakfast?” I asked instead. “I know a place close to here.”

We could at least date.

Bianca’s forehead furrowed as her blush calmed. “Okay,” she replied. I could feel the tense way her muscles shifted in uncertainty—she was confused.

I wasn’t about to explain. We both had far too many skeletons hidden in that closet.

I just had to have faith that this time, things wouldn’t go unresolved.