The Legend of the Eight: The Hunted (Book 5)

23: I Wrote This For You & Only You

TWENTY-THREE: I WROTE THIS FOR YOU & ONLY YOU
MAY 28
WIL DIAMOND 

SHE TWISTED THE TINY GOLD hoop around in her cartilage as she exited the hospital, with Damon Donovan trailing closely behind. The earring was a gift from Phoebe—spelled to cloak Wil's whereabouts as long as she was wearing it. Phoebe had given them all cloaked objects as goodbye presents before she disappeared to join the Shadow Hunters. Wil never even got a chance to say goodbye.

Damon opened the passenger door for Wil when they reached his car and once seated in it, Wil leaned her head against the window. He looked over and her eyes were already drifting shut, days of exhaustion catching up to her.

"Get some sleep," he said and the engine hummed to life. "I'll wake you when we're back."

Her eyes fluttered open briefly as he began to drive and she spotted the ring on his middle finger—his piece from Phoebe. To the untrained eye, it looked no more important than a class ring—featuring a dark amethyst stone in the center and some French phrase engraved along the side. It was gaudy, sure, but like Wil's earring, it kept him immune to any magic meant to track him.

The drive to Damon's loft was smooth and uninterrupted so Wil slept through it. She only stirred awake when she felt Damon's hand on her knee, squeezing it ever so softly.

"Hey sleepy head," he teased. "Let's get you showered and changed."

She frowned. "Are you saying that I smell?"

Truthfully, she probably did. The hospital's antiseptic soap lingered in her nose and when mixed with the stale trace of her Yves Saint Laurent perfume, produced what could only be described as a preteen girl wandering the aisles of a department store, spritzing herself with several different sample fragrances until she reeked of one muddy perfumed mess.

Damon laughed and put his arm around her, escorting her inside. She walked with his suit jacket draped over her shoulders, covering most of the Alice + Olivia frock she was wearing from Friday morning. The jacket smelled like him. Oaky with a hint of bourbon. She turned her nose into the collar and breathed him in.

"So Chlo tells me you're thinking about coming to the Mortal World," he said as they entered the building and made their way across the lobby. It was empty for a Saturday morning but Wil didn't mind. The last thing she needed was to be photographed looking the way she did.

Wil nodded. "She mentioned it. I don't know. It could be fun. It's not like anyone else is sticking around. Why should I?"

"You'll be back," Damon smirked, certainty in those brown eyes of his. They reached the elevator and he pressed the button to call it. "Look at Luke. Hell, even me. Hard as we try, we can't stay away. I guess there really is no leaving the World of Magic."

She folded her arms across her chest and the jacket shifted on her shoulders. With a smile, she asked him,

"So is that why you came here with me?"

If they were being honest with themselves, he didn't have to leave with her. In fact, at the time, she thought he'd stay with his sister at the hospital and then go home to freshen up once she returned. So when he insisted he drive her back, she was surprised. But seeing as she was avoiding the palace (and her mother who was surely about Wil's absence at graduation), she let him.

"What?" she chuckled after a minute. "Did you really think you had to persuade me to stay?"

He shook his head and the corners of his mouth pulled into a smirk, showing off that dimple-shaped scar on his right cheek.