Quinn.
It was Quinn.
Stunning, alive, and here, it was Quinn. Her skin still held that sun-warmed glow it always did, albeit now streaked withsweat and dust. Her wild, dark curls were messier and longer than I remembered, like she’d been running her hands through them repeatedly, stretching the curls out. And yet, they spilled past her broad shoulders in a familiar tumble that made something in my chest loosen. Her face looked the same as I had memorized a thousand times over: the same wide nose, sharp brows including one razored with a clean slit, and those three moles I knew from anywhere. Her beautiful, soft lips were parted slightly like she was trying to catch her breath or hold back words that threatened to break us both. Either way, I wanted to kiss them to rob her of the chance to do either. The rolled-up sleeves of her black button-down showed off how strong her arms were, but her tattoos were hidden in shadow, almost like they didn’t want to be seen. Her cargo pants were fitted, functional, and tucked into combat boots with blades in holsters placed strategically down her legs. It was like she was ready for battle or already coming from one.
I drank her in like I’d been crawling through a desert in search of water. Every inch of her was familiar, right, and so deeplyherthat it made my chest ache.
Everything, except for her eyes.
Her hazel eyes should have resembled golden caramel, burning and glowing like sugar cooking in a hot pan. When we first met, I remembered thinking they radiated a strange kind of flame that was so warm and alive. But now? They looked almostdark. The gold still existed there, but it was like the shadows clung to it for a second too long. Like there was a veil drawn across something bright, and someone hid behind it, watching me. The warmth was dimmer, the flame colder. Yet, her gaze pinned me with an intensity that didn’t quite feel like her. It was subtle. Almost nothing. A trick of the light, maybe. Or, a side effect of blood loss, hunger, and Lilah’s mind games.
Byrdie, c’mon! It’s your girlfriend. Why wouldn’t it be her?I thought, beaming in relief.
Yet, something still twisted in my gut.Could itreallybe her? How could it be? How had she found me?
No, it washer.
Ithadto be.
Now wasn’t the time to doubt. I was too tired for it anyway. I was too broken to question. I only had hope left in me.
Please let it be her.
“Quinn!” I rasped, my voice nonexistent from who knows how long of misuse. I cleared it and tried again. “Quinn, is it really you?!”
Quinn smirked in her usual way, in that smolder that always melted my worries away. “Who else would it be, Sweetness?”
Her voice was the same: husky, accented, and electrifying. My eyes stung with the threat of tears.See? It really is her. Be happy! You are getting out of here!
“I thought I would die before I ever saw you again. I couldn’t feel our bond anymore, and I’ve been so scared here?—”
Quinn rushed over to me then, almost in a blur, and dropped to one knee beside me. Faster than I could perceive, she pulled out one of the many knives holstered along her thighs. I flinched involuntarily, startled by the sudden series of motions. “I know, baby girl, I know. I’ve been the same way. Everyone has been so worried. But, I’m here to save you. Now, let’s get these restraints off you, yeah?”
The knife glinted as she brought it to the restraint before shifting it out of my sight to start sawing. Her movements were efficient, practiced, and too quick to be anything close to casual. Her head was bowed, her curls swinging forward to hide her face. But, I wanted to see it, needed to, in order to know this really was my reality. I felt my heart leap into my throat in joy.
This was really happening. I was really getting out of here.
When Quinn spoke again, her voice was calm, light, and curious, “So, what did the blood witch-fae want with you anyway?”
“She wanted to know where my Mom and Pops were born to find their enchantments. If I told her, she said she would let me go. Otherwise, she was going to manipulate my memories to try and find it herself.”
I felt Quinn’s hands pause for a fraction of a second. It was almost too quick for my notice. But then, she resumed her work, albeit a little slower than before. “Huh, that seems like a fair trade to me.”
I blinked at her. My throat seized up. “Wh-what?”
“Did you tell her?”
What was going on with her? Did she seriously just ask me that?I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.I couldn’t see her face, only the top of her curls and the shifting of her hands. I said slowly and carefully. “No, of course I didn’t. I don’t know where either one is anyway, even if I did want to tell her.”
Quinn’s fingers stilled yet again on the blood magic around my ankle. This time, when she started back up, the knife slipped slightly to nick my foot. I hissed at the scratch. Instead of asking if I was okay or apologizing, Quinn pressed on, her voice lighter now than ever before, like we were talking about what we wanted for dinner or an online video about possums. “But, have you tried to remember? Like,reallytried? You could be free by now if you had.”
My stomach dropped straight through the floor.
No.
No no no.
She didn’t mean that. She couldn’t mean that. No, this was supposed to be real. This couldn’t be?—
