A Want So Wicked (A Need So Beautiful #2)(25)

“Listen,” she hisses, showing me a glimpse of the scary woman she was in the parking lot of Santo’s. My heart kicks up a beat. “The Forgotten don’t have an easy path, child. Their existences are blessed, or cursed if you will. They are physically compelled to help people, to the point that their bodies begin to wear away. The skin rubbing off to reveal the pure light underneath. This painful process goes on until they have one last Need, something that sets them free of their form to return to the universe.”

“That sounds awful.” I breathe out, fear crawling over my skin.

“No.” She smiles. “It’s beautiful. But there is always a price. When they’re gone, the Forgotten are wiped out of time, as if they never existed at all. The universe corrects the space around them, filling in histories—adjusting memories. But everyone who’s ever known or was touched by them has a renewed sense of hope, of purpose. The Forgotten are true sacrifice.”

Her words are making my chest ache, and I’m starting to think that this isn’t just a myth. I’ve heard this before, only I’m certain it wasn’t in this life. Tears well up in my eyes. “Why are you telling me this?” I ask.

“Because, child,” she says. “You are one.”

I stare at her, a tear trickling down my cheek. “If you’re just trying to scare me . . .” I say, choking back my sobs. Even though I know what she’s saying is impossible, I am absolutely consumed with grief. Horror.

“It’s okay to cry,” she says softly, looking almost bewildered that I’d hold it in. “You’ve already gone through this once. I’d cry too. You’ve lost so much.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, wanting to run away. Wanting to shout that she’s a liar. But I can’t.

She nods as if I’m having a perfectly acceptable response to her telling me that I not only lived before, but that I’m not even human. After a minute, she pulls a tissue from her shirtsleeve and holds it out to me. I shake my head no.

“So,” I begin, my voice shaky. “I’m a Forgotten?”

“Mostly,” she says, slowly rocking again. “But you’re so much more.”

It starts. Vibrations up my arms, through my chest. Marceline smiles at me as she slips out of focus.

“You’re keeping something from me,” his voice says on the other end of the phone line. “How are we supposed to have a relationship when all you do is lie?”

I’m crying, cradling the phone to my ear, so afraid I’m losing him. “But I love you,” I whisper. “Why can’t that be enough?”

“Where were you?” he repeats.

“Please, I can’t—”

“Stop lying!” he yells. He takes in a jagged breath, and then it’s quiet. “Love isn’t enough anymore,” he says simply. “It’s killing us.” And then he hangs up.

“Please—” I yell out, and suddenly realize I’m in Marceline’s living room again. The old woman is rocking back and forth, watching me as if she’s fascinated. But I’m trembling, tears wet on my face.

“Who is he?” I ask her. “Who are these people in my head?” I cry, covering my face with my palms. I feel like I’m in a nightmare I can’t wake up from. “Please make it stop,” I whisper, unable to look up.

“Aw, child,” she says soothingly. “No one can stop it. But I think you’ve learned enough for one day, don’t you think? I’m not sure you can handle the rest.”

I look up at her. “There’s more?”

She presses her lips together and nods slowly. “Have a mint. It’ll calm your nerves.”

“I don’t want a mint,” I snap. “Tell me what else there is.”

She reaches to push the bowl toward me, her bracelets clinking together. “Take a mint,” she repeats. “And I’m not ready to tell you more. These things must be done right. You come back another day, after I’ve had some rest.” She motions to the lump of candies. “Now go on.”

Reluctantly I break off a piece and slip it between my lips. The peppermint is overpowering at first, but then I taste something tangy underneath. I look over at her. “What kind of mint is this?”

“Just something to calm your nerves,” she says.

I immediately spit it out into my hand. “You’re drugging me?”

“Oh, hush,” she says, as if I’m overreacting. “It’s a mild sedative. My own special blend. We Seers are fond of our medications. And I can’t have you breaking down on me, not when there’s still so much to do.”

I stand up, shocked that I let myself get so completely fooled. I toss the candy onto the table and it shatters into pieces. Marceline watches with little more than curiosity in her expression. Then she turns toward the window.

“You should go. Your boy is out there waiting for you. And I’d prefer if he didn’t come in.”

I glance in the direction she’s looking, but the blinds are down. I’m guessing she’s talking about Abe since she already had Harlin in here today. Wait. What was Harlin doing here?

“The guy earlier,” I say. “Why—”

“Don’t you worry yourself about Harlin, child. He’s a tortured soul. He’ll find you when he’s ready. Right now, you have bigger things to deal with,” she says, walking to the door.