Severed Read online

  I felt a second stab in my heart as another part of our bond collapsed. This one was so strong I stumbled to my knees.

  “Baby—are you okay?” Drace knelt by me at once.

  “Ma 'frela, are you well?” Lucian was on my other side.

  Both of them looked terribly concerned—maybe even remorseful. But I realized that though I could see the emotions on their faces, I could no longer feel them inside me. The place where they had been connected to me felt numb—like an amputated limb. It simply wasn’t there anymore.

  It’s done—it’s really done. We’re separated and we’ll never be together again.

  The realization was too much. I shrugged off both their hands and curled into a ball. I could feel the tears threatening, stinging and hot, just behind my eyes. But I couldn’t let them come out. If I started crying now I would never stop—I’d just be a basket case who cried the rest of her life.

  Home, I thought miserably. I just want to go home and forget any of this ever happened.

  Which gave me an idea…a way to cope. Maybe the only way that would keep me from going crazy with grief…

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Rylee

  “You’re sure this is what you want?” Lucian asked me for maybe the tenth time. He and Drace were standing on either side of me, just as they always had. But this time I felt no love or protection coming from them—our bond was gone…gone forever.

  No, don’t think like that! You’ll go crazy if you think like that. Just keep it together, Rylee—keep it together for a little while longer.

  “I’m sure,” I said, lifting my chin. “If you think the two of you can work together just one more time?”

  “For you, baby—anything,” Drace said hoarsely.

  “No,” I said, looking at him sadly. “Not quite anything.”

  He flushed and looked away. “I’m sorry—it was for the best,” he muttered.

  “Tell that to my heart,” I said and looked up at Lucian. “You’re sure you can take all of it away? Every last memory from right before I got sucked up in the mirror until now?”

  “If that is what you really desire, ma 'frela. If you really want to forget us completely.”

  “I do,” I said steadily. “I’m barely holding it together here. If I let myself start crying I’ll go crazy. I need to forget you two—forget everything we did together…everything we meant to each other. The…the love we shared.” I choked on the words and almost couldn’t go on. “It’s…it’s the only way to keep my sanity,” I finished in a wavering voice.

  “Are you nearly finished with your farewell rituals?” called the squeaky voice of the head Commercian—or the head Blue Centipede Guy, as I called him in my head.

  “Almost,” I said. “You have that thing tuned to my apartment?”

  “We’ll be depositing you right back in front of the mirror you were first transported through,” the Commercian—Char’noth I think his name was—said.

  “Good, that’s good.” I took a deep breath and looked up at my guys for the last time. “All right,” I said. “Wipe me. I don’t want to remember any of this. Ever.”

  “We will do a very thorough job—just as we did on your former paramour,” Lucian promised. He looked up at Drace. “Are you ready bond-m—” He broke off abruptly.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” Drace acted like he didn’t notice the slip but I was pretty sure he had. They positioned themselves on either side of me, each with a hand on the side of my head, just as they had done when they erased Phillip’s memory what seemed like a million years ago.

  “I’m sorry,” Drace said to me one last time. I had the feeling he was regretting using the Claw to sever himself from Lucian so quickly, without really thinking about it first. But of course, it was too late now. “I love you, baby,” he added in a low voice. “I always will. I’ll never forget you.”

  “Nor I. I love you as well, ma 'frela,” Lucian said.

  “And I love both of you,” I said, feeling the tears prick behind my eyes. “But our love wasn’t enough, was it?” They started to answer but I shook my head. "No please—put me out of my misery. Help me forget. Now.”

  “As you wish,” Lucian said and then I felt a thick, gray mist blanketing my mind. A numbing mist, that made the pain go away—that banished the sharp ache which was all that was left in the place where we had once had a beautiful three-part bond. I wanted the mist to cover me completely, to erase everything, to leave nothing behind.

  I closed my eyes and let myself fall into it. Closed my eyes and forgot.

  * * * * *

  I woke up with a splitting headache and the feeling that there was something important I had to remember. But what? I sat up in my bed and ran a hand over my tangled hair. What was wrong with me? I felt so strange.

  I’d had a dream—I vaguely recollected. A really strange dream about someone tucking me into bed and kissing me goodnight. No…two someones. Huge men…one green and one blue? But that didn’t make any sense.

  The moment the image began to form in my head, it was obscured. A thick gray mist seemed to cover it, hiding any details of my dream that I might have remembered.

  Well, dreams were fleeting. I shrugged and swung my legs over the side of the bed, groaning as the sudden motion jostled my head. It felt like my skull was stuffed with glass shards and cotton and I had the worst headache. Seriously, an up-all-night-drinking-morning-after hangover kind of headache. What had I been doing last night?

  I frowned as I tried to remember but all I could come up with was a vague idea that I might have seen my gay clients—the ones who were fighting over their pet French Bulldog-labradootle mix. That didn’t seem quite right, but it was the best I could come up with. I couldn’t recall anything else except the idea that there had been a divorce—a nasty one that hurt everyone involved. But was it my clients’ divorce I was thinking of…or someone else? I didn’t know and trying to remember made my head hurt even worse.

  It’ll be okay, I told myself uneasily as I clutched the side of my head and shuffled to the bathroom to take some ibuprofen. I just had a bad night. I’ll feel better after a shower.

  Only I didn’t. The headache persisted, a throbbing, debilitating ache which made me want to crawl back into bed. The eight hundred milligrams of ibuprofen I took didn’t even touch it.

  This is awful! It’s like a migraine, I thought, wrapping a towel around me and hobbling back to the bed like an old woman. What’s wrong with me? I never get migraines.

  Only it seemed like I had one now and it was in no hurry to go away. Groaning and clutching my head, I sat back down on the side of the bed. God, it hurt so much—what was I going to do?

  I’ll go back to bed, I told myself. At least I don’t have to call in sick—I work for myself now. I can take a sick day without worrying someone might fire me for it. I’ll just go back to sleep but first I’ll call and cancel my appointments.

  This involved a lot more effort than I wanted to expend at the moment. First I had to find my phone—which was missing from its usual spot by the night table. The phone turned up lying on the floor on the living room which was just damn weird. How had it gotten there? Had I gotten up in the middle of the night and dropped it by accident? But why hadn’t I picked it up? It made no sense.

  After finally locating the phone, I found that it was dead—completely dead. Which was so unlike me—I always keep my phone charged in case of emergencies.

  I plugged it up to the charger and resurrected it only to find that I had something like fifty voicemails and tons of unanswered texts from friends, family and clients. Most of them were variations of, “Where are you? I can’t reach you and I’m getting worried.” My Aunt Celia had called me ten times at least, each call more concerned than the last.

  There was also a message from an old friend who knew my ex, Phillip. She wanted to know if I had been watching the news—somehow Phillip had turned up naked and disoriented in a town in Australia and now he was apparently try