Still....looking at him now, so broken and full of regret, I cannot find it within myself to hate him. He ran. How many times have I wanted to do the same thing?
“Yeah...except you didn’t.”
The tiny voice in my head that I occasionally listen to says as I try to formulate a response.
The truth is, he ran, and Ash is dead because of it. I lost her. Hell....I have been tortured. I almost died. I might turn into an ugly ass bird! All because he ran!
A hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts. Back to the real world, where I am very much trapped in the center of Hell with Zane. Back to the eyes that beg for forgiveness. Back to the face of someone that I consider a friend.
“Can you....will you ever forgive me?” he asks.
I already know the answer. You see....the thing about being me. I have become pretty damn good at being the better person. Some people deserve it. Some people don’t.
“I already have,” I say with my best forced smile.
“If you want to make it up to me,” I say sweetly. “Help me find this damn root before I turn into the dark version of big bird.”
Zane nods, and together we walk further into the darkness.
∞
~ Chapter 17 ~
It turns out time moves differently here. I use our long journey through the Land of Forgotten Souls to brush up on my Hell survival skills. I do that, by playing one hundred and one questions with Zane. Here is what I have discovered so far.
One hour in hell is one Earth minute. If we are to find Merroot, pronounced (MER-ROOT) by the way, it will be at the base of the Waterfall of Widows. Yes. It is as it sounds. A waterfall made of the tears of young maidens who lost their loves in gruesome ways.
Sounds awesome.
Oh....and a little fact Zane left out before. This waterfall is also a protective barrier that guards the entrance to Tartarus. The dagger we need is the lock. The actual freaking lock that keeps all the big nasty demons in Hell!
No problem right. We just have to get there without dying. I will get to that part. Get this weapon, use it on the baddest witch in the history of ever. Release Ashlee’s soul, suck Hecate’s evil ass into the blade and then put it back before anything more evil crawls out of Tartarus.
Yep. Not seeing where anything could possibly go wrong here.
“Ok. Last question,” I laugh, surprised that he is still answering them. I have asked a million already. All of which he has patiently answered.
“Yeah,” he laughs, his eyes scanning the darkness around us. “I am not believing that.”
Me either, but that is beside the point. I like questions. More people should just ask questions. I will take questions over assumptions any day.
“Seriously,” I laugh, bumping his shoulder as the sound of running water reaches my ears. Hope flares to life. Maybe that is our waterfall. I am ready to get this all over with and get home. I am starting to miss Jaxon and the brothers. I wish that it wasn’t too late to try to find a way to bring them along. I always feel better when they are with me.
Safe....
Protected.
“Go for it, Angel,” he laughs. “What is your final question.”
Crap. Now that I know I only get one more I don’t know which one to ask. I have so many. There are so many things I should ask, but what comes out of my mouth isn’t even on the list. Damn me and my broken filter.
“What does the Wiccan rune on my back really mean? I know it is more than you say. It has to be to piss Jaxon off that much.”
The moment the question leaves my lips, I wish I could take it back. Stuff it back in there, so that I don’t have to hear his answer. That is the thing about words though. You can’t un-say them. Once they are out. They are out.
A look flashes across Zane’s face, giving it a hard edge that does not match his warm personality at all. It is like in the span of one heartbeat to the next, the weight of the world slammed into him, and he can no longer carry it with a soft face. Whatever he is thinking right now...whatever he is feeling, hurts him. A tick starts along his jawline, before he takes a shuddering breath and puts back on the mask of indifference that he normally wears.
“Are you sure that you want to know the answer to that Angel? Really sure?” Zane challenges, and with that challenge comes a tsunami of doubt.
Am I sure?
Hell no, I am not sure. Too bad that it isn’t so much wanting to know, as needing to know. Wanting and needing are different things.
One can be ignored. The other will chip away at you until you figure it out. I already have too many broken pieces to lose any more. So yes. I need to know, even if knowing hurts.
I nod my head, the only answer that I am willing to give as we continue to walk. It is dark, but somehow, I know that Zane sees me. He always sees me.
Even when I don’t want to be seen.
So, I shake my head yes, even as my heart screams no. Not to do it. Not to open that door. The truth is I don’t know why I am so afraid of what his answer will be.
Maybe, it is because every time a new truth is reveled to me, it is always worse than the last one. A little harder to hear. A little harder to live with. With every new truth, comes a new pain, shattering my world into millions of pieces. Pieces that get smaller every time that I am broken. Pieces that eventually, will be too small for me to put back together.
I talk a big game, but my biggest fear is that I will stay this way forever. More broken than I am whole.
“The rune is a Wiccan symbol of protection. It is called a hamishican. It is said that the first Wiccan family, the Belcourt family, crafted the symbol as a means to protect the ones that they loved. They used blood and magic to create the rune, and infused it with a piece of their essence as an added layer of protection. It was believed that those marked with the Hasi rune....that’s what we call it today, since hamishican is a long ass word,” he says with a laugh.
“It really is,” I agree with a grin.
“Anyway,” he continues, reaching back to help me over a crater in the earth that I could not see. Further reinforcing my idea that his night vision is far superior to mine.
“It is believed that those that bore the mark of the Hasi could not be possessed by evil spirits. The mark, like most things magical, developed power of its own. Marking future generations of those who came into contact with a member of the Belcourt family.”
I hold up a hand, stopping his story. There is just one problem with that. “I don’t know anyone with that last name,” I say laughing.
“So, I am sorry to report Mr. witchapedia, but this mark on my back must be something else. It can’t be this...this...Hasi.”
Now it is Zane’s turn to laugh. He points to himself, sweeping his hand up and down his body like he is showing off a grand prize. “Ahhh......but you have. You see, my last name may be Zelikos, but my grandmother was none other than Olivia Belcourt.”
Damn. I was hoping to poke a hole in this story. I really don’t have a great feeling about where this is headed. Seeing that I am not going to argue, he keeps talking.
“Now...where was I? Ah...yes. The Hasi is a soul mark,” he says, and my eyes get as big as saucers as a devilish smile crosses his face. He holds up his hands, that grin growing as he pulls me to a stop.
“Easy now Angel,” he teases.” It isn’t like what you have with Jaxon. We are not soul mates. It is more like my magic saw something in your soul that it deemed worthy. It is a claim if anything. It is a bond, but unlike the Moirai bond that seals you to Jaxon without a choice, a Hasi bond is always two sided.”
“The mark is just the beginning. The actual bond can only exist if both souls choose the other. It also does not always center around love. There are some Hasi pairs that are friends, brothers, hell...there are even some who hate each other. A Hasi bond is more about magic seeking what it needs in another. Emotion has little to do with it. So, you can relax Angel. Jaxon can keep your heart. Our connection was fated. It is
destiny, but beyond that, all I seek from you is friendship.”
That should not sting as much as it does, but damn if that didn’t hurt a little. I mean....it isn’t that I want Zane to like me like that, but he didn’t have to be so cold about it.
“Got it,” I whisper, any other words cut off as we step from the trees into a clearing. I have to squint my eyes as I take in the absolute horror before me.
It is like stepping back in time, and landing in the middle of a warzone. Everywhere that I look people are bleeding, screaming, dying. Some fall to the blood-soaked ground, only to reappear where they were moments before. The scene playing on a loop over and over again. One woman clutches her bloody arm, trying and failing to place it back on. Beside her a man holds his severed head, placing it on and bending to retrieve it as it falls to the ground at his feet.
Moans and screams fill the air, but beyond them I can make out the sound of running water. I know without asking that our waterfall is beyond this valley. I also know without asking that the only way to get there is through the middle.
Welcome to the Valley of Despair. It too is as lovely as it sounds.
A sharp pain pulls at my chest as I take my first step into the Valley. I curl my throbbing arm closer to my body as I try to hide my discomfort from Zane. I was able to make out the now blackened appendage from the light cast off by one of the flaming pits that we passed.
This turning into a harpy shit.....it is no joke. It also hurts like hell. A fact that I cannot let Zane know. Friend or not, I have no doubt that he would drag my ass all the way back to the Academy kicking and screaming if he thought that I was in immediate danger.
He is better than Jaxon at letting me be a big girl, but Zane still has a serious hero complex. There is no way that he would let me save Ashlee if it meant me dying.
That is exactly why I don’t plan on telling him. Besides? How bad could being an immortal bird really be?
Zane is strangely silent as we make our way across the Valley. I don’t try to talk to him. Mostly, because I am in pain. I know that the moment I open my mouth he will know it.
Zane always knows.
Guilt over just leaving without telling Jaxon or the others pulls heavily at my heart, and I choose to focus on that instead of the actual pain tearing a fiery path through the center of my chest. I do a decent job of ignoring it, but as we reach the edge of the waterfall, I can no longer push it away.
My legs crumble beneath me, and I hit the ground with a groan that cause Zane to turn around. He takes one look at me, swearing in a language that I don’t understand as he bends down.
His hand brushes my cheek, a look of concern and anguish fighting for dominance on his face. His brow is scrunched up, and I bring my hand up without meaning to. With shaky fingers I smooth out the wrinkle that mars his otherwise perfect face.
“Why didn’t you tell me that it had gotten this bad?” he swears, scooping me up into his arms. I tense, fighting him until he has no choice but to put me on my feet.
Well...that or drop me.
I know what he is thinking, but he would be wrong. There is no way that I am going back to the Academy. No way in hell!
“Because you would have brought me back,” I mumble. Even I can admit how weak I sound. My head feels heavy as I try to keep my eyes open. I can’t pass out. I won’t. If I do, Zane will bring me back. He will choose to save me over saving Ash, and I can’t let that happen. I owe her that much.
“Damn right I would have,” he huffs, sounding like he wants to choke me for keeping this from him. I laugh, patting his cheek as a chill sets in, causing me to shiver.
Huh? That’s weird. I didn’t know Angelic hybrids could get chills. That probably means something really, really sucky is about to happen.
“See,” I laugh, patting his cheek one more time for dramatic effect.
“That is why I didn’t tell you. Besides, being a bird won’t be all that bad,” I joke, trying and failing to lighten the mood.
“Birds can fly. I want to fly,” I mumble as darkness tries to pull me under.
I feel weird. All floaty and airy and light. That cannot be good. I am vaguely aware as Zane eases me down, gently placing my head on the ground. He leans over me, and I grab his arm. Finding my voice even as the darkness tries to steal me away.
“Promise me. Promise me that you will not zap me back home. I know what this means Zane. I know,” I say sadly. Tears stream down my cheeks as my vision starts to fade.
“I can’t leave here without freeing her soul. It is all that matters to me. She....she was my best friend and I didn’t help her. Please......help me to help her now. Please....”
I know that I am begging, but I also know that I am seconds from whatever fate awaits me next. I can’t leave this world, or turn into a monster, without knowing that he will do what I couldn’t.
That he will save Ashlee.
“Do you trust me Angel?” he asks, his voice heavy with emotion as he cups my cheeks in his hands. I ignore the way that those hands shake. Refusing to believe that Zane could be afraid.
Zane...Zane isn’t afraid of anything.
I nod, unable to find words. Words have failed me. Nodding is the best that I can do. If I could speak, I would tell him that I trust him more than I should. That trusting him is what scares me the most.
“Then I hope you understand that I have no choice. I hope you forgive me, because I lied to you before.” He looks away from me briefly as he leans closer, whispering the next words so softly that I almost miss them.
“The Hasi bond isn’t always a choice,” he says softly.
Panic flares to life just as Zane presses his palms to the part of my arm that hurts the most. The part where the harpy scratched me. My pain quickly gives way to a soft warmth as a black flame arches out of him and into me. I feel nothing, see nothing, as inch by inch my pain slowly fades. Just as darkness starts to pull me under, Zane leans forward. His lips press to the soft skin on my cheek. His words a faint caress against my ear.
“A Hasi bond can heal any magical injury. Including a scratch from a harpy. I am sorry Maci. I hope one day you forgive me.”
Then my world explodes in a rainbow of colors, as a searing pain flares across my lower back.
Son of a .......
Jaxon is going to kill him, and then...he is going to kill me.
∞
The first thing I notice when I wake up is that all the pain from before is gone.
The second thing that I notice is that I feel.....guilty. Wait? Why do I feel guilty? I don’t mean a little either. I mean an overwhelming sense of guilt that almost chokes me. It is that strong!
A feeling so intense that I have to rub my palm against the center of my chest. A feeling so strong that my freaking heart actually hurts!
My eyes study my surroundings, finding a worried Zane staring at me from his perch above me. That same guilt that I feel reflected ten-fold on the planes of his handsome face. Then it hits me.
“What did you do? Why do I feel what you feel?” I accuse, pushing myself up easily. It does not escape my attention that the pain from the harpy scratch is long gone. My arm is pink and healthy once again. I wiggle my fingers, the whisper of a memory coming back to me.
“The Hasi bond isn’t always a choice.”
“A Hasi bond can heal any magical injury.”
Oh man! This is bad! This is epically bad! I know...I know what Zane did, and I know why he did it. That does not mean that I am at all ok with it. He took my choice, and that is not ok. That is never ok. People should always have the right to choose.
He doesn’t have time to answer before a wave of anger burns through me, and I pray that this connection is double sided. That he can feel it. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal that simmers like hot coals beneath the surface of my blood. If the grimace that flashes across his face is any indication, he does.
There are a million things I want to say to him. Most of them are not nice, but I pu
sh that aside for now. I need to focus on what matters, and the only thing that matters to me...the only thing that has ever mattered is saving my friend. Too many people waste their time on anger and pettiness, when they could take that emotion and turn it into something productive.
Besides. I am supposed to be an angel. Well...at least half. I do not think any of the words that I want to say to Zane would be classified as angelic.
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly. I read somewhere once that deep breathing was supposed to help you center yourself. I am sad to report that when I open my eyes I am still just as pissed off and confused as before. It does however allow Zane to take the hint. His presence is not wanted at the current moment.
I get it. I do. He saw a way to save me, and he took it. I guess I should be glad that he cared enough to tie himself to me just to save me.
Perhaps I should be thankful. What I am is angry. Angry that he didn’t just tell me. That he didn’t trust me enough to save myself. Everyone always tries to save me, and all they end up doing is hurting me.
Zane has his back to me, and I resist the urge to throw something at the back of his head. I want to believe that he had good intentions, but you know what they say.
The road to hell is paved by them, and something tells me Zane has traveled that road many times. That he is no stranger to darkness, and doing shady things to get what he wants.
I didn’t see it before, but I see it now.
I should probably ask him what this means for me. What a Hasi bond means in relation to my well being, but I don’t have the strength to care. One problem at a time, and my current problem is big enough without adding my personal shit to it.
I have a plan. Kill the un-killable immortal witch and free my bestie’s soul, then worry about Jaxon not killing Zane for bonding to me without my permission.
Sounds solid to me.
My eyes take in the scenery, noticing the waterfall that I only got a glimpse of before I passed out. I would dare call it beautiful.
The way that the water splashes against the rocks below, emptying into a perfect pool of turquoise. A rare place of beauty in this otherwise ugly place. I take a step closer, careful to not get too close to the edge.
Avenge (Hillcrest Book 2) Page 15