Bring Me Your Midnight(60)

“That wasn’t your choice to make!” Ivy yells, shoving me off the bed.

I land on the floor, knocking into the dresser behind me.

“It was the only choice,” I plead, begging her to understand.

“You’ve ruined me,” she says, crying out for her mother.

The door flies open, and Ivy’s parents and mine rush into the room.

“Ivy!” Mrs. Eldon shouts, hurrying to the bed.

Ivy sobs, burying her face in her mother’s chest. “I shouldn’t be here,” she cries, her uncontrollable sobs shaking the whole room.

The nighthawk lies peacefully on the windowsill, and one by one, everyone in the room turns to look at me as they realize what I did.

“You didn’t,” my mother says, her hand covering her mouth.

“I… I didn’t know what I was doing. I just acted. It was like my body took over. I’m sorry.” The words are all disjointed, a jumbled mess as they fight their way through my tears.

“Get her out of here!” Ivy shouts, clutching her mother.

I scramble to my feet and try to find the words to explain, but Ivy looks at me as if I’m evil incarnate, the most vile thing she’s ever seen in her life. “Now!” she shouts.

My dad helps me out of the room, and Ivy’s father slams the door behind us, but it isn’t enough to block out the sound of Ivy’s screams.

They take hold of me until I’m certain I will never stop hearing them, not for a single second, for the rest of my life.





twenty-five





My dad has to drag me home. I claw and yell, desperate to get back to Ivy, desperate to heal what I broke. But once I’m on the couch staring into the fire, I realize I will never be able to fix it. The way she looked at me told me all I need to know.

My mother has stayed behind, presumably to figure out how to get Ivy’s parents to keep my secret. If our coven learns that I used dark magic to save Ivy’s life, it will create chaos. Witches will demand punishment. My parents will be held accountable for my sins. And our relationship with the mainland will crumble.

All of our progress, erased in the span of a single breath.

But this is Ivy. Ivy. My best friend, my soul mate, the love of my life. And even as I sit here with tears in my eyes, I know I would make the same decision again. It’s selfish—I know that it is—but I have to learn to be okay with that. I have to learn to accept labels I’ve lived in fear of my entire life.

Selfish.

Impulsive.

Irresponsible.

I’ve never let myself be any of those things, and tonight I was all of them rolled into one desperate girl who would do anything to save her best friend. Maybe Ivy will hate me for the rest of her life; maybe her parents will never get over it; maybe I will always wonder if it truly was the right thing to do.

But Ivy is alive, and I can’t make myself regret it. I won’t.

My dad brings me a mug of tea and sits down on the couch next to me. I pull the thick wool blanket up to my chin as if it’s armor, a shield that will save me from whatever’s about to come. I watch the flames dancing in the fireplace. Dawn paints the sky beyond our windows, and I know I have to deal with this.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Dad finally says, breaking the silence.

“I know.” I blow on my tea and take a long sip. There is no magic in it, but it still reminds me of Ivy.

Part of me wants to tell him everything about Wolfe and missing the rush and using dark magic. But I promised Galen I wouldn’t, and it’s important to me to keep my word. Maybe that’s foolish after everything that happened tonight, but the last thing I want to do is throw another family’s life into upheaval.

One day, I will tell my parents everything that happened. But tonight, I will tell them only some of it. And that will have to do for now.

“I’m still replaying it in my head,” I say. Dad shifts on the couch so he’s facing me. He doesn’t look angry or disappointed; he looks curious. Patient. “I was holding Ivy’s hand, talking to her. And this nighthawk flew to the window and practically offered itself to me. And I don’t know… It’s like my magic just took over. I don’t even remember thinking about what I was about to do; I don’t remember making a choice. I just remember doing it.”

Wolfe’s words about the moonflower suddenly sound in my mind, how it is the source of all magic, but I didn’t have one with me. I’m so frustrated I could cry, so sick of not understanding my world, my magic, myself.

Dad is quiet for several moments, taking in my words. “But you shouldn’t have known how to do that. Dark magic doesn’t just awaken after years of not being used; it has to be coaxed out. Nurtured.”

He’s right. He’s right, because that’s exactly what I did with Wolfe that first night—awaken a magic that had been sleeping for nineteen years.

“I know. I can’t explain it, Dad. It didn’t feel like I was an active participant in what I was doing. I’m not trying to avoid blame, and I accept full responsibility for my actions. I’m just trying to explain how it felt.”

Dad looks outside at the sky, growing brighter with the promise of another day. All I want is to sleep.

“We are very close to the rush,” Dad says, more to himself than to me. “Which means you have more magic in your system now than at any other point. Maybe the combination of the hawk and Ivy’s imminent death sparked something…” He trails off and shakes his head. “It doesn’t make any sense.”