Chapter 239

Heather

With that she stuck her earbuds back in and pushed past me and the rest of the guys. We stared at her in silence as she went around the side of the building to the stairs.

The door slammed behind her and I sighed. “Well, that went fantastically.”

“There’s so much I regret, but what I did to her… I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t even help myself.” Claudia tugged on her braid. “I’ll go talk to her. I’ll make this right. If she can see the tie to Astaroth, she can cut it. I just have to convince her we’re worth helping.”

I caught Claudia’s arm as she started forward. “Actually, let me give it a shot.” I didn’t have all the history that Samantha and Claudia had, which might make her more agreeable. Or at least less bitter.

Claudia looked to Lucas and then shook her head. “No. It’s my—”

“I’m not going to pretend to follow whatever was going on between the two of you, but I can relate to some of what she said.” I huffed a laugh as I ran a hand over my forehead. “I mean, it sounds like she pretty much lived through one of my nightmares. My parents worked damned hard to teach me to keep my mouth shut about what I saw, especially at school…”

She seems very broken, chérie. That stuff about begging for help? It sounds like she’s had as rough of a time as Claudia these last few years. Maybe worse. You want me to go in there with you?

No. As much as I want you there, I don’t think it’d help. I can’t imagine being locked up like that. And if she was in there long…

He stepped toward me, pulling me against him. I’m thankful that never happened to you.

Me too. Samantha was like an alternate version of myself. If my childhood had gone any differently, I might’ve been her, instead of mated to Brent and living a nice life. Granted, we were here because that life was being threatened, big time. But even in the worst times, I was thankful for who I was, what I was, and for my friends. I had a lot to be thankful for.

Maybe Brent had a point. Maybe I did have a pack. Maybe I would draw people to me. If there was one thing Samantha needed, it was a pack of her own. People who got her, despite the crazy. Even if she couldn’t help me, I had to let her know that I was her friend if she wanted one.

But the fact was, I did need her help. I hoped that I’d find a way to convince her, because I wasn’t sure how much longer I had before Astaroth used his tie again. I had to break it or be prepared to lose everything.

The stairs creaked a little as I walked up them to Samantha’s front door. The wood was nearly rotted through. If someone didn’t fix them soon, there was going to be a terrible accident. I was a little nervous as I reached up to knock.

I’d faced a lot of terrifying things the last few months, but nothing was as scary as Astaroth having a tie to my soul. I wanted it gone more than I wanted air to breathe. This girl was the only person I knew of right now who could help me. I had to change her mind, but I didn’t have a clue how I was going to do that.

A whispered conversation filtered through the door. Spanish. Finally something not French. This I could understand.

What are they saying?

Shhh. I whispered back. I can’t listen in when you’re talking to me.

Brent was quiet for a second and I heard the mom telling Samantha not to be scared of her gift. To use it for good. It was something I’d heard from my mother time and time again growing up. I almost laughed as the conversation progressed. It was like stepping in a time machine, only not. We clearly had different abilities and were on different paths. But some of it was so familiar…

Then her mom started talking about how she needed friends. How she needed to open up. And Samantha said she had friends—her mom and some priest dude.

Her mom and a priest.

Fuck it. I was siding with her mom on this one. Samantha needed me to help her as much as I needed her help. I knocked three times and the conversation stopped.

“Claudia,” Samantha said as she swung the door open. “I—” She stopped. “Oh. Uh. It’s you. I thought you were going to be—”

“Our cousin?” I shrugged. “Nope. It’s just me.”

“Our cousin?”

“Yup. We’re kind of related.”

Samantha looked back at a woman who had to be her mom. The mom was standing in the kitchen, where she’d been slicing some onions—the scent made my eyes water. The mom shrugged, telling Samantha that she didn’t know who I was.

“Well, my mom and Claudia’s mom are sisters. And—”

“Oh! You’re Gabby’s daughter,” Samantha’s mom said. “We met a long time ago. You were very young, and probably don’t remember me. You girls actually played together.”

“We did?” I smiled because I didn’t know how else to react. “Sorry. I don’t remember.”

She waved it off. “Of course you don’t, but you were having such a tough time with your abilities and so was Sam and… Well, I lost touch with your mom, but now it seems like you’re doing fine.”

“I am.” I shrugged. “Except for the whole needing your daughter’s help if I want to live and stop the apocalypse.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” Samantha asked as she leaned against the door jamb.

“I wish I were.” I really, truly did. “I need your help. Please.”

“Of course Sam’s going to help you. Come on in, honey,” Samantha’s mom said.

Samantha shot her mom a look and then stared at me. Right in the eyes. We stood there like that for a while. She wasn’t a Were but she was something supernatural. I’d thought she was a witch, even if Claudia said she wasn’t, but my eyes started to burn as I waited to see who would look away first. It was my first clue that I had no idea what Samantha really was. Witches didn’t do dominance displays like werewolves, but Samantha wasn’t a werewolf.

As the thought crossed my mind, she raised an eyebrow and moved back from the door. I took my gaze away from hers only as I passed through the entrance to the small apartment.

I hadn’t been sure what to expect from outside, but it was pretty nice inside. Sure the furniture was a little well loved, but it was beyond tidy. The front door opened into a living room. They had a small dining table off to the right, and beyond that was the kitchen. It was an older apartment and except for the cream colored carpeting, it hadn’t been redone at all.

Samantha’s mom cleared her throat. “I’m going to clean up real quick and get you something to drink. You girls get comfortable on the couch.”

I sat, but Samatha kept standing. She looked down at me as if she wasn’t sure what to say, and I wasn’t sure either, but I knew I had to say something. “A few months ago, I never would’ve been able to sit on this couch. I’d touch it and see a million things at once—visions of when it was being made. Flashes of anyone who touched it. Glimpses into their lives. If I touched a person, it was worse. I saw what no one is supposed to see or know except for them. I learned the hard way never to talk about what I saw, and until recently, it seemed like there was no happy ending in my future. I’d always be this freak and never get a second’s peace.”

She stepped closer. “So what happened?”

“Brent bit me.”

She snorted. “A werewolf bite isn’t going to fix me.”

“I wasn’t saying that. I don’t even know what your ability is, but life can get better. Sometimes in the weirdest ways.”

She sat in an armchair bedside me. “I’ve already hit my low point, so anywhere I go from here? It’s better. But uh… I’m not like you. I’m not a witch.”

“So, what are you? Fey?”

She laughed. “No. Not that either. And despite the display outside, I’m not broken.”

“I didn’t—”

“He didn’t have to say it aloud for me to see the look on your guy’s face. I know pity when I see it.” She leaned forward, keeping my gaze the whole time. “Here’s the thing. It’s not that I don’t want to help you, but I’ve learned the hard way that messing in the spiritual realm isn’t smart. It can do more harm than good, and from what I can see, you don’t need anything else going wrong.”

She paused as her mom brought over two glasses of lemonade and a tray of sugar cookies. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anything for my angel.” She brushed a kiss on

Samantha’s forehead.

She laughed. “I’ve got too much of Dad in me to be anyone’s angel.”

“Nonsense.” Her mom winked at me. “I’m going to leave you girls to it, but I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

She left and disappeared down the hallway. A door clicked shut and I felt like I was missing something. Who was her dad? Or maybe more importantly—what was her dad?

“So what’s this about the end of the world?” Samantha asked.

“A demon named Astaroth—”

“Oh shit.” She leaned back in the chair. “You’re really in it.” Her voice was quieter, and her eyes seemed to lose focus as she stared at me.

“You know him?” This was good. I had a feeling she was going to be better than the pile of books we brought on the plane.