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THE HEALERS AND DOCTORS walked in and out, running tests on Ciara. Exhaustion blurred her mind. She was too tired to even acknowledge all the doctors and healers coming in and going out.
They had given her painkillers. The pills didn’t kill the real pain, though. She had been stabbed before. She had been shot, cursed, and many other things. None of that was new, and she could get through that. But getting through what really hurt was impossible.
Ciara had stabbed Theo to save the people who had lied to her. They—the people closest to her, all of them—had lied to her for months.
“Miss. Miss. Miss!”
She snapped out of her thoughts, gaze settling on the healer. “Y-yes?” Her mouth had gone dry again.
The healer smiled. She tried to appear friendly, but the pity shone through.
Ciara hated it.
“We are done with the tests. Everything seems to be in order for now. The medicine should speed up the healing, but you must remain on bed rest.”
“When can I go see my friend?” She wanted to see Bill. Whatever Theo had done to Bill, it was bad.
“Not today.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
Ciara sighed in defeat. “Okay, thanks.”
She hated hospitals. And more than anything, she hated being trapped in the wretched hospital bed.
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“LET ME SEE HER!”
Ciara’s eyes snapped open. She reached for her knife until she realised it wasn’t there. She was in the hospital, wearing stupid hospital clothes, trapped in a stupid hospital bed.
She wasn’t home.
But she was safe.
“If she asks for you—”
“You know that won’t happen!” The desperation cracked in Liam’s voice.
For a split second, she wanted to ask him in. She was dying for the comfort—for Liam’s arms wrapped around her. For so long, he had been her rock. She had never needed someone to lean on so badly.
But Liam had lied to her about Theo. Liam and everyone else.
“Walk away.” It was Kellan, who Liam was talking to on the other side of the door.
“I just need to see her!”
The door opened, and Liam rushed in. Kellan was about to grab Liam, but they both halted at the door.
Ciara’s eyes met Liam’s exhausted gaze.
He looked worse than Henry, with his hair all over the place. His skin was pale like a ghost’s, and he had dark circles under his eyes, aging him by ten years. He still wore the same clothes—the ones he had worn at the warehouse.
Ciara’s throat tightened. Her eyes travelled back up to meet his gaze. His eyes were glassy, as if he had been crying—or as if he was about to burst into tears.
They were both tired and hurt. Ciara wanted to excuse Liam’s earlier actions. Neither one of them had the energy to fight.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice almost cracking. He still cared, and Ciara wanted to forgive him everything, but she wasn’t ready.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
She had to bite her tongue. Liam had no right to read her like that. He had broken her heart enough times.
“Time for you to go,” Kellan said to Liam.
Liam shot a sharp glare at Kellan and turned his attention back to Ciara.
Her heart broke, seeing him in such despair. She wanted to ask about his father. Henry had refused to talk about it when she had asked. She wanted to tell Liam everything would be okay. And even more so, she wanted to hug him—cling onto him and never let go.
“Liam, go,” she said and looked down. “I’m fine.”
“Ciara—”
“You heard her. Get out,” Kellan said.
“I just need a minute,” Liam pleaded.
Ciara wanted to ask him how he was, but she already knew the answer. He wasn’t fine. No one was after everything they had been through because of the witch hunters.
“You saw her. She’s fine. Now get out,” Kellan said.
Ciara didn’t have to look up to know Liam had left the room. The door closed behind him, leaving Ciara alone with Kellan.
“Have you found anything? About the witch hunter? Elliott?” Ciara asked and looked up.
Kellan shook his head. “Stop thinking about work.”
“I can’t. It’s not just work, and you know that.”
“It’s personal for you.”
“They tried to kill me in my flat. My home, Kellan!” Ciara clenched her jaw. “Jesse had been planning my death for months.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” His voice softened, and for a moment, he didn’t sound like himself. “The night before yesterday...I can’t even imagine all the things you went through. And not just with Jesse.”
“I killed my fiancé. You can say it out loud. It’s not like I could stop thinking about it for more than a split second, anyway.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You should have told me. At least one of you should have.” Ciara shook her head. “Did everyone know?”
“Pretty much.”
“Bill?”
“I had to tell them before the mission. They didn’t know until Monday.” That was the day of the mission. That night they had fought witch hunters at the warehouse.
“But my friends did, didn’t they?” Ciara said.
“I think so.”
Henry, Jenna, Shawn, Hugo, Mary, Ray... They all had known, and no one had told her.
“How is everyone?” Ciara asked Kellan. “Bill...”
“He’s the same. Alive, just barely. It’s not exactly a coma. This is worse. It’s like a killing curse, but it kills slowly. Like some poison or...” Kellan sighed. “The doctors can’t do anything to help him.”
“And Ray?”
“You should ask Henry.”
“He won’t tell me.”
“It’s bad, Ciara.”
“How bad?” she demanded to know, nausea building up.
“He’s in a coma.”
Coma? It explained everything. How Henry was so distressed. And Liam too.
For a split second, Ciara wished she hadn’t pushed Liam away. He was going through a lot, and she wanted to be there for him. But she had a feeling he wanted more. Her forgiveness. Ciara wasn’t ready to give that yet.
She needed a moment to find her voice again. “And Iris?”
“She’s getting better, I believe.”
Ciara nodded. She had a headache brewing, and the news only made it worse.
She would have killed for a cigarette and a bottle of whiskey. It had been weeks since the last time she had smoked, but a lot had changed in less than two days.
Her eyes burned thinking about it, but she didn’t let the tears break through the surface. She had cried enough.
Theo’s grey eyes flashed in her mind, and she flinched. The hurt in his eyes—when she had stabbed him—played on repeat inside her head, and she didn’t have the stop button. Not even the pause button.
Estella—Theo’s mother—deserved to know. Ciara owed her an explanation. But how could she tell Estella what had happened? There was no right way to tell a mother that her presumedly dead son had been alive after all. Only for his fiancée to kill him.
As if reading her, Kellan started talking. “I didn’t choose to hide the truth from you, Ciara. About Theo, I mean.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” Her voice wavered, but she steeled herself and refused to break down. “I stabbed him so we could get out of there. I won’t make the same mistake twice because I can’t.”
Kellan was silent for a moment before he said, “I would never expect you to.”
She should have been faster. Her hesitation had cost too much. Bill was dying because of her. Everyone could have walked out of there in perfect condition if she had gone with Theo.
She had blood on her hands. The kind that could never be washed off.