Page 24 of Calling Quarters

If this was Remy's room, there was no evidence of him anywhere inside of it. My imagination was clearly lacking creativity.

He walked out the French doors and onto the balcony I'd come from, stopping to lean against the iron railing and stare off at the waters. I slowly followed, testing my footsteps to make sure he couldn't hear me approaching him. When he didn't react, I walked more confidently, stopping right at his side so I could get a good look at this mysterious, dangerous man.

From this close, I could see that his nearly black eyes had leaves of gold hiding deep inside their irises. I knew he was close to my age, but the shallow frown lines that adorned his pale forehead—deeper now that he was full-on pouting—aged him a few more years. His round, scarlet red lips were pulled down and every few minutes, whenever a troubling thought seemed to cross his mind, he tugged the bottom one into his mouth with his teeth.

I was supposed to be afraid of this man. If my intuition was correct, then we were natural born enemies. My family gave their lives to save me from him. Yet, everything about him pulled me in. His soul screamed to mine to come closer—to get to know him on our own terms, without our families’ history or influence.

When he released his lip from its assault once again, I couldn't stop myself. I reached out and gently touched it, rubbing my fingers across its soft, pillowy texture, positive now that this must have been a dream.

But he flinched at the contact.

No. He didn't just flinch, he recoiled and stumbled backward. Then, his own hand flew to his mouth to trace the exact spot my fingers had just left.

I froze, terrified that he might suddenly see me. What would he do to me if he knew I was here?

Was I really even here? I had no idea how this worked.

His frown deepened as his eyes found the spot I was standing in and lingered there. So much time had passed, I was sure he saw my terrified expression and was simply deciding what to do next.

Would he kill me? Hold me prisoner until he spoke to the other Quarters, and they could figure out who's Counter I was? What then?

My mind ran wild with every possible scenario.

But then, his shoulders turned back to face the water and he shook his head in disbelief. I backed into his room as quietly as possible and tried to bring myself out of whatever vision I was trapped in. Surely, if I could get here through deep meditation, all I had to do was break that concentration and snap myself out of it.

I tried focusing on the hotel room. I envisioned myself sprawled across the bed in a deep sleep and imagined shaking myself awake. When that didn't work, I screamed and pinched and punched, but nothing happened. I was stuck alone in Remy's bedroom and making a complete fool of myself.

Just as I was about to give up, Remy walked back through the doors and stopped dead in his tracks. I was standing in the center of the room, breathless from my ridiculous attempts to escape his space.

But he saw me.

Our eyes locked in on each other, and right when he opened his mouth to speak, my lids flickered open, and his terrified face was replaced with the water-stained ceiling in the hotel room.

Chapter 15

Remy

She had been here.

I'd seen Storie plain as day, standing in the middle of my bedroom, looking completely distraught and nearly translucent. I knew I'd felt something touch me on the balcony but chalked it up to nerves or paranoia.

I was going out of my mind trying to figure out how to tap into the power source that appeared beside me on the night of Mabon and refused to show me their true face. I knew that source was the key to helping the Quarters, if I could just figure out how to master it.

Then suddenly, she appeared in my bedroom.

Could it have been her that night?

How else was she able to project herself into my space?

The Wildes estates had enough protection spells surrounding it inside and out. No entity should have been able to penetrate those barriers and make it all the way up into my room. She had to have been using some sort of ancient magic that was stronger than ours. Unless I was truly losing it.

But no, I was positive she was here.

What did she want, anyway?

She looked equally horrified, disappearing before I could even get a word out. How long was she watching me? Had she heard the conversation with my father?

I needed answers, and the only person who could give them to me was the one who posed the biggest threat. If anything, this encounter only brought me closer to believing she was my Counter. If that were the case, then being alone with her was incredibly risky. Especially with our fathers breathing down our necks and the Movement desperately trying to push us out.