Chapter 23 The Anchor
The walk up the grand staircase felt longer than usual. The adrenaline of the evening had crashed, leaving Leela feeling exhausted and small. The iron collar around her neck felt heavier with every step, a constant reminder that she was dangerous enough to need a cage.
Fennigan didn't let go of her hand. He walked her to the door of her suite.
Inside, the room was still filled with the remnanats of her morning dream-the vines on the bedposts, the lilies on the headboard-but they looked like static now. Without her active connection to fuel them, they were just flowers in a vase, waiting to fade.
Fennigan turned to her in the doorway. He reached out, his thumb brushing her cheekbone, tracing the line of her jaw. He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.
"Try to sleep," he whispered against her mouth. "I'll be right across the hall, if you need anything. I'll be right here."
He pulled back slowly, giving her hand one last squeeze before releasing it. He turned toward the hallway, his shoulders set, ready to take up his post as her guard.
"Fennigan?"
Her voice was small. Trembling.
He sopped instantly, turning back. "Yeah?"
Leela walked to the bed and turned to look at him, her hand clutching the rough green stone at her throat. She looked at the large, empty room, and then at him.
“Don’t go,” she whispered.
Finnegan softened. “Leela, I’m just going to be ten feet away.”
“I know,” she said, tears pricking her eyes. “But…I’m scared.”
She took a shaky breath.
“For the first time since I let you into that motel room…I’m scared. I can’t hear the earth anymore. It’s just quiet. And tomorrow….” She trailed off, looking at the floor. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Finnegan didn’t say a word. He didn’t argue about propriety or rules.
He walked back into the room and closed the door behind him. The lock clicked shut.
“Move over,” he said gently.
Leela let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She kicked off her slippers and climbed onto the bed., crawling over the duvet to the far side.
Finnegan kicked off his boots. He climbed in beside her, fully clothed, resting his back against the headboard among the white lilies. He opened his arms.
Leela scrambled into him. She buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. He felt solid, warm. Real.
Finnegan slid down until they were lying side by side. He pulled the heavy quilt up over them, cocooning them together. He wrapped one arm tight around her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head.“I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair. “The magic is quiet, but I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Leela closed her eyes. The cold iron of the necklace pressed against her skin, but the heat of the wolf behind her chased away the chill.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
She fell asleep to the steady, powerful rhythm of his heart beating against her back.
But the Earth Stone did its job too well, it blocked the earth. It blocked the Sun. It blocked the golden meadow and the running wolf that had kept her safe the night before.
Without the earth's anchor to hold her, Leela drifted back into the dark.
The warmth of the quilt vanished. The smell of the cedar and rain was replaced by the smell of lemon pledge and stale coffee.
She was back.
She was standing in the center of the kitchen at 42 Maple Drive. The fluorescent lights were humming, buzzing angrily in her ears like a hive of hornets.
Crash.
The window above the sink exploded inward. Shards of glass flew through the air like diamond shrapnel, glittering in the harsh light.
“Look at what you did!” Helen, shrieked, her face twisted into a mask of pure disdain. She stepped over the broken glass, looming over Leela. “You useless bag of garbage. You can’t even stand in a room without destroying it. You are a regret, Leela. A waste of space.”
“I didn’t mean to!” Leela cried, her voice sounding small and childish. “I’m sorry, Mom, please—”
SMACK
Her head snapped to the side. The sting was hot and immediate, burning her cheek.
Frank stood there, his hand raised, his eyes cold and dead.
“Stop crying.” he growled.
Tears welled in her eyes, hot and fast.
SMACK
He hit her again, harder this time. The force of it knocked her backward into the counter.
"I said stop it!” Frank roared, raising his hand for a third time. “You are a nuisance. You are broken. And nobody wants a broken thing like you.”
Glass exploded from the cabinets. Plates shattered. The room began to shake, vibrating with her terror. But this time, there was no one to hold her hand. No vines to catch her. Just the flying glass and the stinging hand and the voice telling her she was nothing.
Finnegan tossed an arm over her in his sleep. Even in his sleep he tried to protect her.