Alchemy of Secrets - 61

T he next morning, Holland could feel all the real again. She could feel the minutes tick by, fresh unlived minutes, crisp as that first breath of early morning air.

She went for a run to drink it all in. The weather had fully changed, and the cold was knife-sharp, cutting away all the dirt and the smog, making LA feel blissfully clean.

Holland ran faster, chasing the feeling of an unlived-in moment as if it might disappear. She ran until her lungs couldn’t take it, until her legs burned and she was covered in sweat, which cooled too quickly as soon as she slowed, leaving her chilled and out of breath. But for one perfect minute she wasn’t haunted by thoughts of yesterday. Or the yesterday before that and the yesterday before that.

Normally she stuck to the sidewalk lining Santa Monica beach, but today she wanted to take off her shoes and sink her toes into the sand. As soon as the sand felt slightly damp against her feet, she plopped down onto the beach, right on the edge of the damp and the dry.

Holland gazed out at the water and tried to hypnotize herself with the sound of waves. She knew there were so many things she needed to do. Starting with getting a new phone, and then getting in touch with her sister and her friends. She really needed to talk to January in particular.

But for this one simple moment, she didn’t want to worry about any of that. She wanted to believe everything would work itself out. She curled her toes in the sand as a wave crashed against her ankles and splashed her calves, dampening her leggings. She tried to just think about how good it felt to breathe in and out. To be alive. To be cold and taste salt on her tongue.

She sat there feeling the water ebb and flow, until she started to wonder how yesterday could have gone differently. She knew there wasn’t a version where she could have walked out of the Hollywood Roosevelt with Adam, but she did wonder if there might have been a version where she left with Gabe.

She wondered about him more than she wanted to. After the events of yesterday, she was wondering again if January had actually sent him. The only way to know for sure was to talk to her sister. January still hadn’t texted Holland on the burner phone Gabe had given her, which made Holland think he’d been lying.

Another wave crashed, and in that moment, Holland felt a sharp pinprick of awareness, right between her shoulder blades.

Someone was watching her.

She turned around, but it was only a couple of beachgoers. They dropped their towels and ran toward the ever-cold Pacific. And she told herself she was glad no one was watching. That no one had found her there. It was good to have this moment alone.

Another wave crashed. Children squealed as they ran from it. And Holland felt it again, a pinprick of awareness followed by a shift in the air.

She turned, hoping maybe her sister had found her. But it was Mason Bishop, walking toward her. He’d changed out of his white dinner jacket into expensive jeans and a pale blue shirt, which looked even better on him than the jacket.

He sat down beside her, and again she was overwhelmed by the humanness of him. By the power he seemed to carry. As he sat there, she played that game where you wait for the other person to break the silence. At first because she felt oddly nervous and unsure, but then because it was surprisingly nice to sit there in the quiet and watch the waves crash with someone else.

“I missed this,” he said finally, looking at the ocean. “You think you can remember the sound and the smell and the way it feels when the sun burns through the fog. But memories are never quite as good as the real thing.”

“No, they’re not,” Holland agreed. She thought about her parents then, and for a second, she regretted that she hadn’t brought them back.

“You’re wishing you used the Alchemical Heart,” said Mason.

Holland’s head snapped his way.

He responded with another look that seemed to say, I know you, remember?

“I actually did use it again,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “You gave yourself an ability?”

“I did.” Holland hoped that as she said this the magic power would finally appear, but she didn’t feel any different. And there was still no tattoo on her wrist.

“Good for you,” Mason said. “But don’t tell anyone else.”

“Why?”

“People treat you differently when they know. If they think you’re ordinary, they leave their guard down a little more. People will figure it out eventually, but even when they do, don’t tell them what it is.”

“Do people know what your ability is?”

“No, and I prefer it that way.”

“Will you tell me?” Holland asked.

He gave her a look that said not a chance .

“I’ll figure it out,” she told him.

“Good luck with that.” Mason looked back at the ocean, watching the waves crash and retreat, until Holland’s curiosity finally got the better of her.

“Is there a reason you came here?” she asked. “Of all the beaches, in all the world, why did you choose to sit on mine?”

“You could say this is my version of a thank you.” Mason shoved up from the sand. “You brought me back to life yesterday, and now I owe you a debt.”

He reached toward his back pocket, just as Holland’s phone rang. Her heart gave a sudden jolt. She pulled it out and looked at the name: January .

Her sister was finally calling.

She looked up to tell Mason to just hold on. But apparently guys like Mason don’t wait. He was already walking back up the beach. Again, he didn’t say goodbye. But he had left something in the sand. A matte black business card with a gold art deco border.