Chapter 115

Andrew

I slammed the door to the hotel room hard enough to make the walls shudder. I was soaked from the rain. My hands were shaking, not from fear but from fury. My shoes squelched on the carpet as I made my way toward the desk where my briefcase waited.

Tyler had turned him down. Twice.

The spell was supposed to work. It had been crafted by a high-ranking witch, guaranteed to nudge Tyle toward compliance.

Instead, the little bastard had resisted it like it was child’s play.

Worse, he had the nerve to refuse me.

I’d underestimated the boy’s new moral compass, probably a side effect of whatever therapy he’d gotten to scrape off the Brightclaw rot.

I stalked across the room and yanked my briefcase onto the bed, throwing it open. My heart sank when I saw the shattered orb at the bottom.

“No, no, no.”

I picked up the broken crystal, turning it in my palm. Hairline cracks zigzagged across the surface like veins of rot. The glow it once held was gone. Thin filaments of magic curling into the air like dying smoke.

I dropped it onto the desk and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

The bind on that little wench had been broken, and I still didn’t know who or where she was.

If I didn’t make a decisive move soon, Mountainhowl would find me. And once they did… there’d be no running.

Vivian

I didn't like the fact that she didn't look like she believed me. I hated her. I hated that her nails were nicer than mine, which hadn't been done in weeks. Hated the way her expression screamed disbelief. Her eyes were cold as she looked at me. She'd been polite, sure, but none of that usual warmth that I would get when walking into the store. It was clear she didn't care if I stayed or went. The way her eyes drifted, appraising everything I put on the counter, irked me. It was all the good stuff that I knew would move fast. It was also everything that I could grab or had with me before they shut off my access to my stuff that was still at the shelter. I still needed to pay the stupid shelter to get my stuff back, but that was only after I managed to get a place to put it. Couldn't I file a police report for theft or something and get out of paying them?

“I told you, it’s just a closet cleanse,” I said to the saleswoman as I laid the diamond-encrusted cuff onto the velvet tray. “I just don’t have room in my new place,” I added, breezy and casual. “Starting fresh. Minimalism, you know.”

“You’re keeping the rhinestone heels, then?” she asked sweetly.

Bitch.

I smiled, baring teeth. “I’ve got a buyer for them already.”

She didn’t reply. Just tapped a few keys on her keyboard, ran the items through the scanner, and printed out a total.

It was not enough. Nowhere near what I’d paid for them.

Still, I took the cash.

Every sale was a dagger in my pride. A piece of me was chipped away every time I had to take what they offered, knowing they were going to sell it for a mint. But the worst part?

I was running out of things to sell. My old boyfriends weren’t answering. Even the dumb ones. The one who cried when I left him had blocked my number. One of them sent a selfie with a pregnant girlfriend, holding up a sonogram. The last guy? Total bottom-feeder, still lived with his mom. I wasn’t desperate enough for that. Not yet.

I stepped outside the consignment shop and pulled my jacket tighter around myself. It was thin. Wrong for the weather. Wrong for everything, but it wouldn't sell for much.

How much more of my stuff could I sell to make up enough to get into an apartment?

An alert buzzed on my phone, and I opened it.

A photo of Renee popped up in a gossip blog article. Her hair freshly curled, wearing some designer coat I recognized from a luxury boutique. On her grandfather’s arm. They were walking out of a private lunch spot in Brightclaw’s historical district, somewhere you usually had to wait three months for a reservation.

I had waited four.

The headline?

Frostborne Heiress Turned Mountainhowl Princess: A New Powerhouse in the Making?

I nearly choked.

Renee. Powerhouse? Please. She was only rising because I had fallen. If I still had my status, my money, my resources--- if she knew her place, then this article wouldn’t exist. I'd be the one wearing that coat. Hell, I'm pretty sure I could get her grandfather to like me more than her with ease.

I stared at the article until the screen dimmed. I couldn't wait around to get enough cash for the other apartment. I'd have to go with the second option. The indignity of being basically homeless while Renee got to go on shopping sprees with her grandfather was too much.

By the time I made it to the leasing office of the second best apartment, a place I had rented from for a little while when I had wanted a place to host parties. My jaw was tight and my stomach churned.

I was sure I'd never come back her, not permanently anyway.

I'd make Renee pay for all of this.

“I’m here about an apartment,” I told the manager.

He looked up from his desk. His smile was polite, but shallow. “Name?”

I gave it.

The smile disappeared. “Ah. Ms. Brightclaw. Unfortunately, your rental profile has been flagged for high credit risk.”

“What?”

“We require first and last month’s rent as well as a full deposit.”

“But I’ve been a tenant here before.”

“That was under a different financial arrangement.” His tone didn’t budge. “You’re welcome to apply under our revised policies.”

I stood there for a moment, stunned. He handed me a paper application of all things. I took it, turned and left, swallowing my fury. I’d just have to do it. I couldn’t go back to the shelter. I would never go back. And I definitely wouldn't be staying at the motel I'd managed to get into. .

I stopped at the storage unit on my way to the motel and sorted through the bags the shelter had dumped into bins.

I never noticed how much of my stuff actually was missing. Something told me that either they stole it or Dominic had kept it in order to settle my debts. How kind of him, knowing that he could have paid it all off and never notice the difference!

Most of it wasn’t worth keeping. But at the bottom of one was a small velvet box.

Inside was a necklace. Gold chain. Solitaire diamond. A gift from one of the old ones. A senator? A CEO? I couldn’t even remember now. But I remembered the price.

Ten thousand.

Maybe fifteen if I flirted with the right appraiser.

It would be enough to get into that apartment. Enough to pretend I still had some shred of dignity left, but it wouldn't last long with the way my paychecks were turning out.

I shook my head. How was I going to keep my appearances up if I went to that apartment and blew all my cash? I had to be seen buying at least something new when it was so clear that everyone in the city was going to die, but going around selling all my stuff.

I grit my teeth and pulled out my phone. I didn't want to call this guy. I never wanted to call this guy. He was a good fuck, and that was about it, but desperate times called for desperate measures. His mom's house was nice enough. Better than a shelter, free and not a motel.

I called and waited for the call to go through.

It rang once.

It rang twice.

Then, finally, he answered. “Hello?”

I could’ve cried.

“Hey, you,” I said sweetly. “Been thinking about you.”

He said nothing for a moment. I should’ve known better than to call him.

“Vivian," he said, his voice cold.

“I know it's been a while,” I said sweetly, with just the right note of breathlessness. “I was hoping we could—”

“No.”

The word cut through the air like a slap.

“I haven’t even---"

“You don’t need to. Vivian, I saw the news. I heard what you did to that girl. And Tyler. You’re lucky it serves me not to even mention that we knew each other.”

My throat tightened. “You don’t understand. Things got blown out of proportion. I just need—”

“You need to never call me again,” he said. “Goodbye, Vivian.”

The line went dead before I could respond. I stared at the phone, seething. No doubt he’d blocked me already.

I hurled my phone across the storage unit with a shriek.

It shattered against the cement wall, and my stomach sank.

That phone was as much as my bi-weekly paycheck after garnishments.