Chapter 30: Bianca - Silence - Change

Bianca
Silence

I thought I’d died. There’d been no other explanation for waking up with the smell of freshly washed linen and the feel of silk under my skin. I’d been tricked too many times in the past—this could only be heaven.

But naked cherub people stared down at me from the ceiling, and I knew instantly that I was in my room.

Besides, a real angel wouldn’t look so innocent. From every account that I’d read, they had multiple eyes, misshapen faces, and were truly a terror to behold.

I’d always gathered that was kind of the point of being a heavenly being. Why wouldn’t you want to look intimidating beyond words?

But, still, how…

Then recollection of the last few moments of my consciousness replayed in my mind, and it was safe to assume that Titus had brought me here.

“Bianca?” Julian’s sleepy voice cut through my confusion, and he moved beside me, bare legs and torso pressing against my skin as he pulled himself up, resting against my headboard. He leaned over me, touching my face, trying to search my expression as he asked, “You’re awake? How are you feeling?” he asked, though, surely, he already knew.

My attention shifted down to my fingers, where it lingered. My manicure was a complete mess. Almost all of my polish had chipped off and the majority of my nails were broken or chipped. I was no longer dirty. My skin had been scrubbed to a light pink. All other traces of my imprisonment vanished. And my hair no longer felt disgusting. Plus, I’d been changed into one of my lighter, lacier shifts.

They didn’t hire someone again, did they? I flipped my hand over—the cuticles were even clean. I didn’t think she’d be so thorough.

“I gave you a bath,” Julian said without even a hint of embarrassment or apology. “I couldn’t leave you, so it made sense.”

Julian gave me a bath?

I was too far removed to be embarrassed. In fact, I wasn’t feeling much of anything at all. My body felt foreign and strange, and my hands were like someone else’s.

“Hey.” Julian scooted closer until he was on his side, eye-level with me. His face was tense, and his voice imploring. “How do you feel?” he asked again, tracing his fingers down my outer arm.

My skin prickled where he touched me, but I could only watch him in silence. For some reason I couldn’t shake the numbness that cloaked my thoughts, and it was impossible to gather the drive to reply.

His expression fell deeper into sadness. “Can you talk to me?”

Even though I was distantly aware that I probably should say something and did feel sorry that he felt so sad, I couldn’t muster the effort.

“Okay.” Julian didn’t break eye-contact as he reached above his pillow, grabbing his phone. “That’s okay,” he said again.

It wasn’t okay, though. He was really upset—and worried.

He barely looked away as he typed, and when he was done, he set his phone down. “My mom is coming,” he said. “And so is Gregory. They’re just going to confirm that you’re doing better.”

I blinked at him, unsure why he was even bothering to tell me. It wasn’t like anyone cared what I wanted anyway.

“Bianca…” He sighed, sitting up again. This time he pulled me into his lap, and I rested my head against him. His heart was beating so fast, and I snuggled closer, trying to keep the rest of the world at bay.

I didn’t want anyone else near me. I just wanted to be left alone.

But then my stomach twisted at the thought, because I wanted Miles, Titus, and Damen too.

Where were they?

There was a knock at the door, and Julian grunted out a soft reply before Dr. Kohler and Uncle Gregory entered the room. They looked frazzled and tired: Dr. Kohler’s usually clean-cut clothes were wrinkled, and Uncle Gregory had bags under his eyes.

That wasn’t good. They should probably get some sleep.

Uncle Gregory remained standing near the door as Dr. Kohler crossed the room. She threw me a bright—but obviously forced—smile as she stood at the side of the bed. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she joked.

Julian stopped breathing for a moment, but I only watched her. It was the strangest thing, but I couldn’t figure out how I was feeling. Why couldn’t I just be left alone?

Obviously, I was fine.

Her watery smile faltered.

“Okay, Bianca—” She pulled the edge of her stethoscope out from under her white jacket. “—I’m going to check your vitals, okay?”

Whatever, it didn’t matter.

I couldn’t look away from her, and my heart raced as she touched my arm. My focus remained on her hands as she held the stethoscope to me, and my breathing turned shallow as she circled to my back, pressing the cold device against my skin.

“Good job,” she said, coming back to stand in front of me once more. “And your blood pressure…” She didn’t ask for permission this time, but pulled over a tray I hadn’t noticed before and set the cuff around my arm. Even though I was watching it blow up and knew it was doing its thing, I barely felt it.

“Your blood pressure is low right now,” Dr. Kohler said as she pulled the pen out from behind her ear and began to write on her clipboard. “But that’s to be expected. You’ll be back to normal soon.”

Normal.

Something stirred in me at the ironic statement.

What was ‘normal’? I didn’t even know what that meant.

Julian’s hand suddenly twitched. The movement was so miniscule that I might have missed it if I hadn’t been so in tune with the way he’d been rubbing circles over my back.

I glanced up at him. What was wrong?

“It’s okay, Bianca.” He was smiling, but his expression didn’t match the overwhelming sadness that soaked into me through our shared connection. “You’ll be fine.”

It was almost like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

“We’ll see.” Uncle Gregory nudged Dr. Kohler out of the way and took her place at the side of the bed. Unlike the last time this happened, she didn’t protest, but she did remain in the room, standing near the cart as she watched the scene without emotion.

He’d been holding one hand behind his back, and after shooting me a long look, he showed us what he’d been hiding.

“Take this,” he said, holding out a panda-shaped bowl of vanilla ice cream for me. I glanced at it, my stomach rumbling almost painfully, before looking back to him.

“It’s honey,” he said in response to my unspoken question. He seemed genuinely surprised. “You’ve never had it as a topping before?”

Honey?

I loved honey.

Julian breathed a sigh of relief as I took the bowl and began to eat with small bites. My attention, however, did not move from the older man.

“Okay, Bianca.” Uncle Gregory grabbed my vanity chair and moved it to where he’d been standing. “I’m going to ask you some questions now.”

My movements froze, and I held the spoon near my mouth as I stared at him. I was just starting to feel alive again—why did he have to ruin it?

But this ice cream was really good, so was it really worth getting annoyed?

I slowly put the spoon in my mouth, watching him.

“I’ve already spoken to Gloria,” he said, touching his jaw as his focus wavered, but then he was back to business. “Ms. Satore and Ms. Ducharme as well, so we have a general idea of what happened.”

That’s nice—it kept me from having to answer anything.

“But I still want to hear your version of things,” he finished.

My pulse quickened as the ice-cream suddenly lost its appeal. I dropped the spoon back into the bowl and set the bowl down on the bed, suddenly unable to tear my eyes from the melting snack.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

I couldn’t look up, my vision blurred as the lingering numbness began to vanish.

“How did you break Gloria’s curse?” he prodded after I made no move to respond. That got my attention—I’d been expecting questions of different nature. His mouth was drawn and his forehead was wrinkled.

“I’d been trying to break it for fifty years.” Uncle Gregory sounded genuinely frustrated. “Caleb and even the witches too. Furthermore, and I’m not trying to be mean, but you’re still untrained. It must have been difficult for you to do it.”

Difficult?

Was it though? Once I figured it out, everything was rather simple.

I shook my head, glancing back to my slowly melting food.

In fact, truth be told, breaking Gloria’s spell had been easy and was, by far, one of the least-stressful aspects of our adventure.

But, still, I couldn’t answer. Why couldn’t I tell him?

“Bianca?” Uncle Gregory was being so patient—much more than I’d imagined he was capable. “Are you able to answer?”

Tears filled my eyes, and I shook my head.

“Can you say anything?”

My throat closed as my lingering fear began to swell.

No. No, I couldn’t.

“It’s okay,” he continued, voice calm. “We don’t need to worry about Gloria right now.”

No!

I looked up, finally meeting his eyes as a sense of determination replaced my fear. He’d been waiting fifty years for an answer. There was absolutely no reason why I couldn’t just explain this simple thing.

He bought me ice cream! This was the least I could do.

But even though I’d opened my mouth, I couldn’t answer. My hands began to shake in frustration, and I barely noticed as Dr. Kohler stepped between us and took away the bowl.

“I said it’s fine.” Dr. Stephens was frowning at me.

I shook my head. It wasn’t fine! I could do this.

“Bianca—” His features were stern and his voice more commanding. “—there is absolutely no reason to stress about this. We can move on to other—”

I gripped at Julian’s arm, trying to ignore the waves of tension radiating from him, and pointed at the necromancer.

“Mr. Kohler?” Uncle Gregory’s frown deepened. “I don’t understand. He wasn’t there. What does he have to do with—”

I pushed back from Julian, facing him. He was staring at me, eyes wide in horror, but I ignored him. Instead, I crawled over his legs until I straddled him and grabbed his arm, holding it out until I saw the mark near his elbow.

I pointed at it, looking to Uncle Gregory. Was I making any sense? He glanced at Julian’s mark, his brows drawing together in thought.

“Necromancy?” he asked.

I nodded, my heart racing.

“You used necromancy?” He didn’t seem to be as surprised, but there was a thread of doubt in his question. His reasoning was clarified when he added, “How can a necromancer break a witch’s curse?”

I bit my lip, sitting back on my butt, as I tried to figure out how to explain. But really, I wasn’t the expert here.

“There are ways,” Julian answered for me. He’d grown still at Uncle Gregory’s words and spoke slowly, as if he was carefully weighing every word. “In certain types of rituals, and if blood magic was involved. Any necromancer should be able to figure it out once they know what to look for.”

Dr. Kohler shot her son an almost indiscernible look, and I realized that sometimes it must be really weird being the parent of someone who might know more about your own abilities than you. After all, it was the parents who were meant to teach the child.

“I wasn’t aware of that…” she said slowly.

“We have plenty of necromancers around.” Uncle Gregory pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up with the movement. “I never even thought to ask Joe or Jordan for help. They’re going to kick themselves over this. Why isn’t this common knowledge—you should know better than to keep an ability of this magnitude from the council.”

“There are a lot of things that aren’t common knowledge, and for good reason. Some of which we need to talk about.” Julian’s voice was cold, but his anger moved like a tangible thing between us. I was grateful that he wasn’t looking at me. “For example, puppets.”

The self-assured expression dropped from Uncle Gregory’s face while Dr. Kohler only seemed to grow more confused. “This isn’t the time,” he said as he looked away.

“No,” Julian agreed, and his ice-cold fury sent a chill down my spine. “It’s not. Still, tell my grandfather to be ready.”

I glanced between the two of them, a sense of foreboding cresting over the tumult of Julian’s anger, and I reached for him.

My fingertips brushed against the back of his hand, and his eyes softened as our eyes met. “We’ll discuss it later.” Whether he was talking to Dr. Stephens or me, I couldn’t tell. “Bianca, is there anything you need?”

I pulled my hand back, touching my lips. Everyone was looking at me with a sort of pity that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Yet, I couldn’t even voice my thoughts.

This was so frustrating.

“Leave her alone for now,” Titus spoke suddenly. “You’re overwhelming her.”

The dragon stood in the doorway, lounging as if he had every right in the world to be here. Which, I guess, he probably did.

But at least he was looking better than before. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep this time, but even his hair seemed freshly washed.

“It is,” he replied, “thanks for noticing. But you’ve only been out for a day. Julian’s helped a lot with your recovery. They put you on medication, so you’ll probably hurt more later.” He stepped into the room, gazing at me with an energy that almost dared me to protest.

My hackles rose, but Julian responded first. “You can read her thoughts all the time now?” He sounded mildly curious, but not at all jealous in the way I’d expected him to be.

“So it seems.” Titus was giving me an even look that caused my stomach to knot. “And I do have the right to be here.”

I fought the urge to growl at him, but it was difficult. But how dare he just presume—

“You’ve accepted the mate bond,” he replied. “That’s the way it works. It looks like we’re both going to have to get used to certain things.”

Really?

I wanted to be angry, but the way he said it made me think I was missing something.

What did Titus have to get used to? He could only benefit from this situation. Most people would kill to partake in my most brilliant thoughts.

I knew Damen wanted to read my mind, he said it all the time. Although it was probably good that he didn’t know what I was thinking. His feelings were easily hurt.

“Like that.” Titus slumped into my window seat. “I really don’t want to hear your thoughts about Damen.”

“I do!” Julian perked up. “Are they as amazing as I’m imagining?”

I glared at the two of them.

“Bianca.” Uncle Gregory’s voice was a cold glass of water crashing over my head. “Can you talk about it through Dr. Ducharme?”

Titus straightened in his seat, staring wide-eyed at the man.

“Don’t give me that look.” Uncle Gregory waved off the dragon’s stare. “There are things that need to be discussed, and this way, she’s not being pressured to answer. On top of that, we need to discuss next steps. Jonathan is furious. He’s saying that we failed.”

“If she’s not willing to talk about it, then she’s being pressured to answer,” Titus replied, unphased at the older fae’s refusal to back down. “You’re the doctor, you should know why she’s not talking. It’s a symptom of severe trauma.”

Trauma.

The brightly lit room dimmed, and a low static hum began to play in the back of my head. My lungs seized, and I was unable to breathe even though I knew I should.

Voices hummed around me, growingly increasingly louder in concern and alarm, as I pulled at my hair. I bit my arm as my skin crawled as hands moved over me, ghost-like sensations of a recent, and more distant, past. Blood red walls in underground spaces. Razor-sharp teeth that reflected the light of the moon, and taunting voices shouting after me in the dark.

Get away, get away.

I couldn’t get away.

I was alone in the night, and there was no one who would save me.

I was—

Something grabbed me from the front, holding me in an unmovable force. My arms were uselessly pressed between my chest and whoever had restrained me, and my face was firmly held against a soft, but solid surface.

Panic tore at me, but before I could even be sick from it, a gentle pressure moved across the back of my neck. The tension vanished, as did the fear and terror, leaving behind an overwhelming calm and exhaustion in its wake.

Voices drifted around me as I rested, dimly aware as I focused on the sound of Julian’s heart.