Wicked Ties (The Tether Trilogy Book 2)

With a steel cup of milk in one hand and a Vakeeli version of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the other, I leave the castle and walk toward Warren.

As I approach, his head turns a fraction to find me, and a whisper of a smile claims his lips. I take the spot beside him on the grass, and his eyes fall to the sandwich and cup of milk.

“Didn’t eat breakfast?” he asks.

“I did, actually. But I gather you didn’t.”

He shrugs. “Not really hungry.”

“Do you remember peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

Warren huffs a laugh. “How could I forget? We practically survived on them every summer, especially when Dad started working more.”

I avoid the topic of our father for now. It’s a sore spot, and I want to cheer my brother up, not bring his mood down. “Mine were always better,” I say, bumping his shoulder.

“Yeah, okay. You wish.” He cracks a half-smile. “You always put too much jelly and not enough peanut butter. Made it so sloppy.”

“Those are the best kind!” I laugh, offering him the sandwich. “Try this one. It’s not our usual, but maybe you’ll like it. Makoto said it’s pecan cream and blackfruit jam. It’s the closest thing we could find.” I extend my arm, holding it closer to him. He’s so much skinnier than he was the last time I saw him. Even through the gray T-shirt that hangs off his body like a cloth, I can see the ridges of his spine.

Warren takes the roll from me, studying it carefully. The eggplant colored blackfruit jam spills over the edges, and the tan pecan cream merges with it. He takes a big bite, then moans with a sigh.

“It’s really good,” he says.

“Yeah? Break me off a piece.” I take the piece he offers, popping it into my mouth. “Wow. It is good! I didn’t think pecan cream would be.”

“Just like home, really,” he chuckles. He takes another bite and turns his gaze ahead. As he chews, the smile slowly fades away and his eyes sadden.

“What’s really been on your mind, Warren?” I ask, though I have an idea. Death, death, and more death. Danica has been keeping a watchful eye, but I want to hear it from him personally.

He’s quiet so long I think he’s either ignoring me or didn’t hear me.

“I never told you the whole truth about Momma and Dad,” he finally says.

I try not to frown. “What truth?”

He lowers the roll to his lap, glancing at Danica who is already watching us but keeping her distance. He swings his eyes to mine again, mashing his lips together. When his head drops, I worry he won’t tell me anything at all, so I place my hand on top of his.

“Warren?” I call.

He looks down at our hands as two tears skid down his cheeks. “That time I visited Dad,” he starts, swiping at the tears. “It was because I had this dream of Momma. It was so…vivid. I remember every detail. She was in the bathtub. She’d slit her wrists, and as she bled, she looked at me and told me to find Dad.”

My throat closes in on itself. Momma died in the clinic. She’d swapped pills with another patient, built a concoction over a period of time, and died from overdose. I wait for him to continue.

“I went looking for him, and it’s true he sent me off and wanted nothing to do with me, but not before telling me why. I demanded to know, told him I wasn’t leaving until I knew why he abandoned us.” He sucks in a breath. “We were never their children, Willow. Momma was never pregnant with us. She fostered us first, then adopted us.”

“What?” I choke on a breath, staring at him incredulously.

“She found us after a late shift. He said she found us in a basket next to her car. Dad says Momma brought us home, took care of us. She reported that she’d found us to the police, and social services stepped in, but she told them she wanted to keep us. I guess because she couldn’t have kids of her own.”

“You’re lying,” I mutter. “Tell me you’re lying.” He has to be. There’s no way he’s telling the truth. All my life, I ached for her. I still do. And even though I didn’t see the resemblance I had to them, I figured it was just a coincidence—that I’d grow into my face and look just like Momma. She was beautiful, with sable skin and bright brown eyes. Her hair was always nice and neat, never a hair out of place…at least not at first. How could she have just found us?

Warren rubs his jaw as if it hurts. “Dad said as soon as Momma took us in, she changed. And when we turned two, she started having nightmares about someone coming for us. It drove her to hysteria, you remember? And when she died, those nightmares shifted to Dad, apparently. He said he tried enduring them, but he couldn’t because they were so vivid. He swears there was a voice in his head, telling him to kill us. He said…” Warren’s voice cracks. “He said one night, he remembered raising a pillow above my face to suffocate me, but he snapped out of it.”

My heart sinks. I drop my gaze, trying to remember all the moments spent with Dad. He’d changed toward the end of the time he was with us, yes. He’d lost job after job, and we continuously downsized until we were in a one-bedroom apartment on a shotty side of Charlotte. Now that I think about it, I do remember him mumbling to himself a lot. Staying awake all night. He carried this bottle of pills with him all the time and told me once they helped him stay alert. “B-but how?” is all I can muster.

“I don’t know. But that day I found him, he described the thing that was tormenting him in his sleep. He said it was shaped like a woman, and that she was always red. She had hair of fire, and her eyes were like hot coals. He said she took over his dreams every time he fell asleep, and he couldn’t take it anymore, so he left. He walked away. He told me the dreams immediately stopped when he left us. He never had them again. He thinks…he thinks we’re possessed by something evil.”

“Do you think it was Decius?” I whisper, jerking my head up to find his eyes. “You think he was tormenting them?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what all Decius is capable of.”

“He couldn’t have reached their minds, could he?” I shake my head, pondering it. “He’s not strong enough for that—not to tap in with people on Earth. Good people, at that.”

Warren nods, but still looks unsure. “I’m sorry I never told you the truth.”

“It’s okay.” I take his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Warren, it’s okay.”

“I have the same nightmares as he does, even now.”

“What?” I gasp.

“About the woman with hair of fire. They’re stronger now that I’m in this world.”

I swallow hard, unsure what to say.

“She hurts me in my dreams. Tries to strangle me. Her hands are always on fire. It’s clear she wants me dead. Between her and Decius’ evil thoughts lingering, I feel like I’m losing my mind, Willow.” He huffs a laugh, but there is no humor to his tone.

“I know, I know.” I collect him into my arms. “It’s okay. We’ll get you better, I promise.”

“But what if I don’t get better?”

“You will. You have to. For Danica. For me.”

He shudders a breath, and I hear footsteps shuffling in the grass behind us. Danica approaches, looking between us.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, we’re good. Just having a heart to heart.” I smile up at her, but she doesn’t return the smile.

Danica cuts her eyes to Warren. “You closed me out, Warren. You promised you wouldn’t close me out while you’re like this. Open minds only, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” he responds, pulling away from me. “I just wanted to talk to my sister alone.”

Danica’s lips press, her eyes bouncing between us. “Okay, well, I’m going back to the guesthouse.” She lingers a moment, as if waiting for Warren to come with her. When he doesn’t, she shakes her head and turns away, tucking her Katana into her sheath.

Warren watches his mate go, then says, “What if that Hassha woman doesn’t take me in? Danica says there’s a possibility she won’t because I’m a man.”

“If she can’t take you in, hopefully she can at least heal you, clear your mind. Rid you of those nightmares. Maybe she knows what the nightmares mean.”

Warren says nothing, but he does inhale before exhaling. “I don’t think we were born on Earth. I think someone brought us from here and placed us in that parking lot. They were trying to get rid of us, or save us…maybe? I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “After hearing all that, I think so too.” But who would do that? The only people who can are the Regals. Korah found her way to Earth, but she ventured there long before we were ever born. Did she return when we were born and swindle us to Earth? If she did, I would assume she did it to protect us from Decius. Perhaps our previous selves died, we were reborn, and she moved us. But that would be a vicious cycle, wouldn’t it? Constantly going back, knowing we’re going to die, only to bring us to Earth when we’re reborn?

None of this makes any sense, and now that I know all this about our parents and what they suffered on Earth, I need to find answers.