The Crystal Warrior

The Crystal Warrior (Chapter 20)

The Crystal Warrior

By Maree Anderson

Chapter Twenty

Chalcey jerked awake, her ears echoing with an unfamiliar sound. Her heart thudded until she identified the trill of Sam's mobile phone. Sam had insisted on leaving it with Chalcey in case she needed it. Not that she did. The only person she'd be likely to ring would be Sam. And speaking of Sam, this was probably her, calling to find out what time to pick Chalcey up from the hospital.

She answered the call, but before she could speak a voice said, "Sam? It's Will."

"Hi, Will," she croaked. "It's me, Chalcey."

He paused. "Shit. Isn't this Sam's number?"

"It is. She left me her phone."

"Right. Sorry it's so early. Hope I didn't wake you."

He sounded weird. Strained. "Do you want me to give you Sam's landline?"

"Ah, no. I was only passing on a message for you, anyway."

"Okay."

Pause.

"What's up, Will?"

"God. This is so fucking hard that I'm just gonna come right out and say it. My cop buddy, Rick, tells me that they haven't found any human remains."

"Oh." The chill pierced her bones and her stomach plummeted to her toes. Then relief, washing through her, banishing the chill. Of course there wouldn't be any remains. There wouldn't be any because Wulf had already been taken by his crystal.

"Plus the fire department's preliminary findings point to the fire being accidentally lit. Most likely a cigarette in a trash can. Christ." He laughed, and it was a savagely unhappy sound, full of guilt and remorse. "How fucking trite is that?"

"An accident? But I don't smoke. My studio is non-smoking, and none of my friends—"

"The fire started downstairs in the rooms being used for storage."

"Yeah. Rick mentioned that already."

"Appears more than one person has been smoking in there. And some dumbass chucked a cigarette butt in a trash can full of shredded files."

"Oh." She stared at the wall of her hospital room and tried to think of something to say that would ease the terrible guilt she could hear in Will's voice.

"The arson specialist—or whatever the hell he's called—said that in his professional opinion, the fire might have been contained with minimal damage except it wasn't only files being stored in the area. It was toner and inks and art supplies and a whole heap of highly flammable crap. God! I should've checked before I let them use it for storage. I should've—"

"It's not your fault, Will. It was just an accident." Or... perhaps the Crystal Guardian's final petty revenge—spiteful magic that had prevented her from saving Wulf, and consumed everything she'd worked so hard for.

Yes. That fit. It was a far more palatable explanation than losing her last chance to save the man she'd loved because of a careless smoker.

"I'm sorry, Chalcey. Look, if your insurance company gives you any trouble about your contents, I'll pick up the tab. And if there's anything I can do for—"

"Thanks, Will. I appreciate you calling. But I've gotta go." She disconnected before he could say anything more. She knew guilt was eating him alive—yet another person who felt responsible for Wulf's death. But not Will, not Esmeralda, not even Terrence were to blame for what had happened to Wulf. Chalcey was the only one to blame. She was the only one who could bring him back to life.