Almost

Chapter 49: Reckoning

Katherine didn't want to go back to the townhome. Couldn't go back to the townhome. It wasn't home. And Molly was right—spells weren't the only magic in this world. But her magic was really broken, and she had no clue how to fix it.

So, she went back to the cabin, sat down at the table facing the front door, and waited. It took everything in her power to not rip the tempering out and fall into the quiet. But she resisted, turning the box over and over in her hands.

It was early in the morning still here, and the air hadn't yet been warmed through by the rising sun. It made her wish she had pants, but instead she'd pulled out the purple blanket that had taken up residence in her backpack and threw it over her legs. The quiet that she normally loved, the slow pace of the cabin, was suddenly making the air too thick around her.

It was only five minutes, maybe, before Crawley walked through her wards. But it felt like an eternity.

I can change my mind, she thought. There's still time. Just do it on your own. He doesn't need this.

But she forced herself to stay put. To keep the ring in plain sight as he walked in the door.

"Hey," he said, his voice anxious. "Harry was supposed to tell me when you were done. I got worried and went back to London, but he just said they'd cleared you and that you'd gone to the Burrow and then Nestor showed up and—"

"I need to tell you something."

"I have something to tell you, too," he said slowly, coming to stand next to the table with his arms crossed. "You first?"

"You should sit."

"Why do you have the box out? Did something happen to the tempering?"

"Crawley," she pleaded, "just sit?"

He did as she asked, taking the seat next to her, glancing nervously at her. She could feel Nestor pulling in her hands, wanting to be let free to comfort her and watch over her, but she simply tightened her chest. This was a message he couldn't deliver for her.

"I need you to take the tempering from me," she said finally. "I can't have it anymore, but you are the only one I trust with it."

Crawley reached out and took her hand. "Katiebird, what is—"

"Just after the fight with Iz, when things settled back down, I put it on. I can't tell you why. It was like a magnet. I've been wearing it on and off ever since." Katherine focused her gaze on the box, not daring to catch Crawley's eyes as she set it on the table and pulled her hands back. "And at first, it was just every once in a while. Just when I needed a break or when my magic felt out of control. When I felt out of control. But now, I can't sleep without it. And if I don't time it just right, I get itchy and jittery and irrational. I think it's done something to me—my magic, its... it just stops working. Like its resetting itself."

She kept her eyes down but imagined what he must be seeing. She was shaking, her leg unable to stay still. Her free hand was buried in her hair. Without a mirror, she knew her mascara was smudged under her eyes. This was not the fiery, persistent woman he had fallen in love with. This was her on the edge of crumbling.

"I know I should have told you," she admitted before he said anything. "And I know it could have gone badly—"

"Badly?"

The tone of his voice made her look up finally. His face was red, making his eyes pop even more than normal. He didn't look like he was breathing.

"Katherine, it could have killed you for all we knew. Or taken your magic away permanently. Shit, Waine, when you took it off you nearly blew up a store. Not to mention the fact that when you are wearing it, you are completely defenseless. What if it would have torn down the wards or the damn house for that matter. You just thought you could put it on without even as much as a heads up to anyone?"