Forgotten (31 page)

“
How am I supposed to
know?”

He refused to comment and moved on to
the next window. I couldn’t help to notice that he held me tighter.
A night light shone through the next window. I shook my head before
he asked if this was the window used. I didn’t know how I knew - I
just did. Jace said nothing, but carried me to the next. He kept a
solid grip on me. When he got close to the window, my stomach began
to tighten.

“
Which one of these windows
offers the most concealment?”

“
The first one,” Jace
answered and lowered me to the ground. “This window led to your
parents’ bedroom. It’s a bathroom now.”

“
You’re trusting me to pick
the window, even thought I can’t see?” I said.

“
You see what others
can’t.”

“
Like what?”

“
The past,” Jace said. “The
Chronicler used to have the ability to see other’s memories, their
past. We all leave parts of ourselves everywhere we touch, like
DNA, but on a metaphysical level. I always suspected that she could
sense that.”

Without giving me time to absorb what
he’d just said, Jace pulled himself through the window first,
positioned himself, and then reached down for me. His handhold was
tight, pulling me upward through the window. Keeping his voice just
above a whisper, he gave me a quick tour of the house. I instructed
him to make sure I didn’t walk into anything - which would
inevitably cause a ruckus. He agreed without making any snide
remarks about my asking for assistance. He watched me with such
intensity; it made it difficult to concentrate on my
surroundings.

He’d been here at least once to
investigate the place himself. So, either he noticed something and
wanted to see if I picked up on it, or he couldn’t find anything
and figured that I had a Hail Mary’s chance at picking up on some
clue that he’d missed. Walking slowly down the hall, the carpet
kept my unsteady steps from being too noticeable. I walked around
the house - hoping, waiting, for a sense of anything to pass over
me. Nothing. Even when I stood in the bedroom where Lily died, I
felt nothing other than guilt for living when she
hadn’t.

“
Can you lead me to the
bathroom, please?”

He took my hand and pulled me close
behind him. I walked in his footsteps. It kept me from walking into
anything, since he wasn’t behind me to catch random things from
falling to the floor. Once inside the bathroom, I splashed water on
my face. Clearing my head, I focused on the water as it dripped
down my face.

“
Will you Mute yourself,” I
asked. “Please?”

With my eyes closed, I splashed more
water on my face and tuned Jace out. It cooled my face as it
tricked down. I thought about the fall night; the police reports
stated the area was well lit. It was raining, I thought as the
water ran off my face. I’d never been successful at triggering my
own vision, but wind and water seemed to be key elements. Retracing
my steps back into the room where Lily died, I thought of the fall
night nearly two decades ago.

“
Fan?” I asked as I stood
on the spot my sister had died.

Jace turned on the ceiling
fan. Kneeling on the place Lily took her final breath, I tried
everything to induce a vision, a feeling, anything. My suppressed
memories of my derailed life and old vision bubbled to the surface.
They exploded through my tears. I beat the floor, commanding myself
to see something.
Any
vision!

I looked from a child
wrapped in a blanket, to an old man kneeling over me. His hands
were wrinkled, weathered. Time hadn’t been good to him. He grabbed
my arm and cut it. My blood seeped from it. The old man leaned in
close, smelling me. The smell of fresh rain filled the air when he
smiled. I looked back to the child, begging her for help. Within a
blink of an eye, my view changed. I was the child looking at my
sister in the old man’s grip. He covered her eyes with one hand
while raising the knife in his other hand. The reflection of a
woman in the knife flickered in my view before I looked away. Blood
seeped onto my blanket.

I felt nothing; what I saw
was unfeasible. I traded bodies with my sister. She died. I lived.
I didn’t know how I was able to do such a thing, but it didn’t
matter. I was a horrible person. I sacrificed her life to save my
own. She died because of me. Not a single thing mattered; no soul
could make me
feel
anything again.

“
Gwyneth?”

I had no need to open my eyes to see
Jace kneeling by me. His smoky figure was blatant in my sight.
Concern emitted as he said my name over and over. When I didn’t
react, he told me I was in shock. He reached for my cheek. I
distantly felt his anxiety climb.

“
You’re crying
blood.”

I opened my eyes. He looked like a
dark shadow, Muted like I’d asked. A crimson haze clouded my
vision. I wiped my eyes and looked at my hands in disbelief. I
didn’t care enough about anything to shed a tear, so why had I
cried?

“
Red,” I said
absentmindedly.

He asked me if I trusted him. I
nodded. Taking my hand in his, he blew hot air on them. “Would you
permit me to show myself as I am – unmuted?”

I nodded. What did I care? He could do
as he pleased. I did. I traded places with my sister. I dodged
death by sacrificing Lily. Jace slowly brightened. His shape became
more defined the brighter he became. A tear trickled down my
cheek.

Pity crept into my soul the brighter
he became. Guilt accompanied it. Another tear dropped. Regret. More
tears dripped from my eyes. Confusion. Heartache. Anger.
Sorrow.

“
Hold me,” I said. He
pulled me into his arms before I finished speaking.

I looked from a child
wrapped in a blanket, to an old man kneeling over me. His hands
were wrinkled, weathered. Time hadn’t been good to him. He grabbed
my arm and cut it. My blood seeped from it. The old man leaned in
close, smelling me. The smell of fresh rain filled the air. I
looked back to the child, begging her for help. And within a blink
of an eye, my view changed. I was the child looking at my sister in
the old man’s grip. His hand held onto my sister’s throat, choking
her. The knife in his hand rose to his face. The reflection of a
woman in the knife flickered in my view before I looked away. Blood
seeped onto my blanket.

A flash of the old man,
holding onto a bloody knife in one hand, trickled into my mind.
Scarred and wrinkled, his hands dripped with deep red blood.
Collapsing to his knees, the old man grinned vindictively as an
impossible gift was bestowed upon him. Smoothing out like his skin
was being ironed, the old man grew young. His gray hair deepened in
a dark brown, curling at the ends. His insane laugh echoed in my
mind.

Warm, brilliant red liquid
seeped into my pink blanket. I was a young child, an infant.
Lightning flashed the night sky while rain pelted the roof only to
stream down the window beside me. My screams competed with the
thunder. But no one listened to me, not even the wrinkled old man,
who held a bloody knife in one hand and a cane in the other. Blood
gushed from a young girl next to me. My pink blanket turned red.
Colors blurred, until everything melted into a shade of
gray.

“
I killed her!”

My confession echoed in the noiseless
night. Even though I felt his confusion wash over me, he said
nothing. Instead, he picked me up and carried me out of the house.
We were next to his car seconds later. He lowered me into the back
seat of his car. He said that I was freezing and that his healing
power wasn’t going to help since I was physically fine.

He tried to comfort me, but I didn’t
want it. I didn’t deserve it, so I pushed him away. I don’t know
how I changed bodies with my sister, but I did. Jace slipped into
the driver seat and sped away. She died, when it should have been
me. I was no better than the murderer in my vision. It wasn’t long
before his arms were wrapped around me again. Jace was muted as he
carried me. He knocked on a door. Marco answered. His spicy scent
triggered another vision.

I held a knife to a man’s
throat. He was larger and stronger than me. His eyes were bright
green, unnaturally beautiful. His face was unshaven. His hair was
in distress but somehow incredibly attractive. I’d never fought my
own battles before, but I refused to let him bring me to the Master
again. The past would be forever repeating itself; but today there
could be change. He gripped the knife that I held to his throat. He
hadn’t even flinched when the blade sliced through his skin. A
thick scar trailed across his knuckles – moving like it wasn’t
attached to his skin. It slithered under his wrist, hiding itself
from view.

“
What’s going on?” Marco
asked, jarring me from my vision.

“
She’s in shock. Tell the
others to vacate,” Jace said. “And I swear to all that’s holy, if
Analee
or her slaves
disturb Gwyneth, I’ll find a way to kill her.”

Glancing around the room, I saw a
fireplace in the corner of the massive room. I felt the presences
of other deities but hadn’t heard them. Jace sat down on a couch
with me still in his arms, watching me.

“
Tell me about what
happened,” Jace said.

“
Lily was defenseless,” I
said. My eyes filled with tears.

“
Defenseless,
how?”

“
She died by the knife of
an old man, but it was I who killed her. I watched her bleed out
and did nothing. I changed her destiny by trading places with her,”
I said, fumbling for the right wording. “I stole her
life.”

We sat in silence as time ticked away.
He stroked my hair. After what seemed like hours, he began singing
in the foreign language. It was music to my ears, calming my soul.
I closed my eyes and wished my life away. I wished time would cease
to continue. I’d never been afraid of death; now I wanted it –
deserved it.

“
You want to tell me why I
just put Analee into a frenzy?” Marco asked, as he walked into the
room. “She’s not one to take orders kindly.”

“
What happened when you
traded places with your sister, Gwyneth?” Jace asked evenly – too
calmly.

“
My soul lived in her body.
I looked at my sister, wrapped in the baby’s blanket, begging her
for help. Then a second before that horrible man cut her eyes out,
I was looking at the scene from her perspective. I stole her body –
traded my fate with hers, because he was going kill me. I destroyed
her soul. I don’t know how I did it, but I did. I know I
did.”

“
Impossible,” Marco
whispered. “Even if all the sisters are together, they couldn’t be
powerful enough to –”

“
Change another’s destiny?”
Jace said quietly. “It’s their power – their essence – to change
the course of fate, for each one of us, as well as the humans. She
gave me her Elysian when she died years ago. Her sisters weren’t
near then; yet, she changed their fate.”

Marco grunted like he didn’t believe
it. However, he didn’t argue either.

“
The police reports stated
it was a rainy night when it happened – the night a man grew
young,” I said idly. I wasn’t following their conversation
anyway.

“
The night a man grew
young?” Jace repeated. “If he grew young, Lily had to have Elysian
in her blood… or Gwyneth interfered with the girl’s fate, by
weaving it into her Elysian into the human’s thread of
life.”

“
Or it was the Cutter,”
Marco offered. “She likes to hop around from body to body. What did
she tell me once… it was like wearing a new suit?”

It was Jace’s turn to groan. “Mythical
rumor. We’ve gone around in circles about the subject, I’m not
about to debate it again.”

“
Fine, if the man grew
young, he was a Hunter. If was one of them filthy half-breeds, then
they have been watching Gwyneth since she was a child,” Marco said,
and then cursed. “The police officer died shortly after the
investigation began. Coincidence or cover-up?”

“
Cover-up, for what?” I
asked.

“
People just don’t get
younger all the time, sugar,” Marco said. “Faking a death would be
a perfect cover-up. The Hunters are notorious for faking previous
lives.”

“
See if you can find any
death certificate or burial information,” Jace ordered.

Marco’s head twitched nervously.
“Head’s up, Analee’s on her way over here.”

“
He smelled like fresh
rain,” I said.

“
Fresh rain?” Marco
questioned.

I nodded. Jace cursed, and Marco spat.
A putrid smell filled the air. Blasts of cold air froze the air
around me as Jace’s body warmed me.

“
Rain can smell a lot like
the ocean – the Butcher’s scent,” Marco muttered and then sniffed
me. “We wouldn’t have necessarily picked up on it right away. It
looks like your old friend found Gwyneth, before you
could.”

“
You should have killed the
Butcher when you had the chance, Jace,” Analee said. I didn’t hear
her enter the room. It didn’t surprise me. Her figure blazed bright
like always; Jace’s went utterly still, like he was getting ready
to strike. Before Jace could comment, Marco appeared in front of
Analee, and the two of them vanished.