A Need So Beautiful (A Need So Beautiful #1)(33)

There’s a tingling on the back of my neck, like someone is staring at me. Uncomfortable, I turn toward the waiting area. Onika’s there. Any relief I’d felt is gone, replaced with fear. Monroe had called her a beast.

She smiles as she sits next to the woman with the squirming toddler. Onika’s long hair cascades over her shoulder onto the fabric of her black jacket, effortlessly beautiful.

The child next to her lets out a harsh squeal as he tries to break free of his mother. Onika flinches and looks sideways at the toddler, her eyes seeming covered in shadows. I see her dark red lips move, murmuring something I can’t hear. I’m frozen in place, watching her.

The child suddenly turns to her, eyes wide. Onika stops whispering and glances back at me, grinning again.

Still in his mother’s arms, the toddler starts to whimper and clutches on to her before resting his head on her shoulder. The mother pats his back and says something like, “Oh, see. That’s my big boy.” But it’s obvious that the kid is scared. That whatever Onika said—or did—to him has frightened him into silence.

Sickness starts to churn inside me. Onika stands, flicking out her gloved hand in a quick gesture, and the pain is gone.

“God, Charlotte. You look like hell,” she says as she walks toward me.

“Monroe told me not to talk to you.” I take a step back from her. She looks offended.

“Why? Because I’m trying to help you?” She groans. “He is nothing if not predictable.” She reaches out to take my arm and leads me into the aisle, where we’re hidden by shelves of feminine hygiene products. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Monroe Swift is a liar, and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”

“He said you were lying about being able to help me.” My heart is racing even though I don’t feel scared anymore. It’s like the fear ran out of me.

“Yes, love. Because he wants you to dissolve. The sooner you do, the sooner he’s free.”

“What? How will he be free?”

She reaches out to brush my hair back behind my ear, a mothering gesture. It puts me at ease. “Because as your Seer he’s trapped in servitude. But from what I hear you’re his last Forgotten. And once you’re gone, he can live a normal life. And here’s a secret.” She leans close to my ear. “He used to be my Seer too.”

She moves back, continuing to smile. “And look”—she motions over herself—“I’m still very much here.”

“How?” I’m suddenly desperate. She proves it. There is a way to stop the Need.

She waggles her finger in front of me. “No, no. Not yet. You have more to show me before I can tell you all of my secrets.”

“But—”

“Shh . . .” she whispers, and I’m struck silent, unable to move or talk. My thoughts don’t race, my heart doesn’t pound. I’m content as I stare back at her, her words fading to the back of my mind. “I’ll see you soon.” Onika turns and walks toward the front door of the pharmacy, but when she’s halfway there she looks over her shoulder at me. “Oh, and give my love to Mercy.”

I try to ask what she’s talking about when there’s a sudden vibration in my pocket and I yelp, jumping back, no longer mute. My breath comes out in jagged gasps as if I just woke from a nightmare. When I look up, Onika is gone.

It takes a second until I realize that the vibration is my cell phone. I pull it out and glance at the caller ID. It’s Mercy.

“Hey,” I say when I answer. I feel like I haven’t talked to her in a million years, and right now I really want her to tell me everything is okay.

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me, Charlotte. You better be getting your little butt home and to bed. A car accident? And nobody calls me? Tell Monroe he’s gonna be hearing from me later.”

“It’s not his fault,” I try to say, but then realize that I won’t win the discussion. Mercy’s pretty good at standing her ground. “I’m on my way home right now.”

“You’ve got ten minutes before I come and get you myself. And then you’ll be sorry.” She hangs up and I smile a little. Mercy’s idea of sorry was scolding me for an hour and taking away my phone, only to bake something delicious because she felt guilty.

I push my phone back into my pocket, feeling normal for a minute before the day’s events flood back into me. Forgotten. Onika. The journal. Dread grips me—an overwhelming dread that threatens to drown me—until my hand closes around something smooth inside my pocket. It’s the guardian angel that Harlin gave me. It comforts me.

There’s a jingle of the front door of Dell’s as a police officer walks by me toward the back counter. I feel okay with what happened here, because someone was saved today. That’s a good thing. I know it’s good.

But even that doesn’t shake me from the horror that’s become my life. There’s nothing worse than being forgotten. Like I never existed. I straighten and begin walking toward the street, feeling determined. Because I know, no matter what Monroe says will happen, I’m going to want to stop the Need. Even if I have to use Onika’s help. I want to live.

When I open my apartment door, I’m immediately assaulted with Mercy’s hugs and questions. About every other word is Spanish as she demands to know how a car had hit me, how many stitches I’d gotten, and why I didn’t call her. I see both Alex and Georgia at the table, eating dinner, and I wave to them. Alex salutes me and Georgia goes back to twisting strands of spaghetti on her fork. I’m sad that she doesn’t seem happier to see me. I thought we’d bonded last night. That maybe we could be family now.