Heart of Ash

by Kim Liggett

  Swallowing the boulder-sized lump in my throat, I stepped onto the elevator. I was afraid to look at my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, afraid of what I might see. Katia . . . my mother . . . Rhys. I was surrounded by ghosts.

  As soon as the elevator doors opened, I propelled myself out of the stifling metal box, making a beeline for the front door. Our doorman backed up against the wall as if he were seeing a phantom, which wasn’t completely off base. “N-nice to see you, Miss Larkin. Hope you have a—”

  I pulled up my hoodie and hightailed it to Broadway. I’m sure I looked like a strung-out mess, but no one seemed to notice or care. This was New York City, where eye contact was considered a disease.

  The city was hot; not Kansas hot, but the sidewalks retained the heat. The summer garbage piling up, people sweating . . . the whole city was ripe. And with my heightened sense of smell, it was a challenge, to say the least.

  Beth was waiting for me on the corner, Rhys’s flannel shirt tied around her waist, a huge grin plastered across her face.

  I braced myself as she lurched forward, giving me one of those ridiculous bear hugs, and I swore I could smell the sunshine on her skin.

  “You’ve been to the High Line,” I said.

  “How did you know?”

  I could smell the Chelsea Market spices, the Hudson River, the old rusted tracks, and even the men who put them there, but I didn’t want to creep her out. “Because you went to Doughnuttery.” I pointed to her bag.

  “Oh, they have the most wonderful sweets.”

  “They’re doughnuts.”

  “But look,” she said as she opened the bag and shoved it under my nose like a two-year-old. “No nuts.”

  I pulled away from the sickeningly sweet smell. “Do you have to eat those now?”

  “Nope.” She crammed the bag into her backpack and pulled a half-eaten wad of cotton candy from her pocket, cramming it into her mouth.

  “We might want to take you to the dentist.”

  “Okeydokey,” she said as she followed. “What’s that?”

  “Someone who looks at your teeth.”

  “Ooh, that sounds like fun. I don’t think anyone’s looked at my teeth before, except at the breeding ceremony.”

  “I’m not even touching that one.” I shook my head. “The dentist is a blast. You’ll love it. So, how was your first solo subway trip?” I asked, trying to keep my mind occupied as we made our way to the park.

  “So fun.” She skipped ahead of me. “I made lots of friends.”

  “Oh God. Please tell me you didn’t give out our home address?”

  “Heavens, no. I remember the rules, but they all want to meet you. They’re having a get-together tonight . . . under the bridge.”

  “Under the bridge? Yeah, no more solo trips on the subway for you. I told you people aren’t really friendly here—”

  “Beth!” A burly guy, his neck covered in tattoos, waved his arms as he crossed the street.

  I squared my body, ready for anything.

  “How’s Biddy?” Beth smiled warmly as she stepped around me.

  “I tried the radish greens, just like you said, and she’s back to normal.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Shoot. My bus is here,” he said as he looked back. “Gotta run. See you around, angel.”

  “What was that about?” I glared at him as he got on the M7.

  “Biddy, his tortoise. She was awfully sick because he was giving her too much fruit.”

  “Beth,” I lectured as we entered Central Park, “I really don’t think you should talk to strangers. This isn’t Quivira, or Kansas, for that matter. You should really—”

  “Beth.” A woman with all of two teeth called out, her wizened claw beckoning us over to her domain—a bench, covered in pigeon shit and God only knows what else.

  “Hi, Mrs. Dolenz.” Beth dragged me over there.

  “How do you know all these people anyway?”

  “Just from around the neighborhood.”

  “Well, it’s annoying. It’s like going on a walk with the mayor.”

  “Oh, Mr. De Blasio? He’s a peach.”

  “You know the mayor? Of course you do.” I let out a deep sigh.

  I thought Beth would be overwhelmed here, but she seemed to thrive on the energy. As many talks as I’d given her on stranger danger, she embraced the city with open arms, and the city did the same for Beth. She belonged here, more than Rhys and I ever did. Maybe Beth belongs everywhere.

  “This is my best friend, Ash,” Beth said as she pulled me forward.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  Mrs. Dolenz’s beady eyes raked over me. “I know you. You used to walk down my path every day . . . with a boy.”

  “My brother, Rhys,” I said, feeling a stab of remorse. “You haven’t seen him, have you?”

  “Strange.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re the second person to ask me that today.”

  “What?” I took a step closer. “Who else asked about my brother?”

  “I couldn’t say.”

  I got right up in her face.

  “Ash,” Beth hissed at me. “She’s blind.”

  “Oh.” I took a step back. “Well, what was his voice like?”

  “Crushed velvet.” A winsome smile took over her face. “There was an accent, but I couldn’t say from where. But aren’t you going to ask me what he smelled like?”

  “How’d you—”

  “I may be blind, but I have the senses of a pit viper. He smelled like the woods and oranges.”

  I looked around the park, searching for him, when I caught a different, eerily familiar scent. Mold and dander, city grit beneath calcified nails. And once I knew what to look for, they were everywhere.

  In the sky, scattered across the lawn, under benches, in the trees, their piercing eyes glaring down at us from on high.

  “Crow.” The word escaped my lips. The whisperer of secrets. The harbinger of death. “Coronado.”

  5

  “ASH, SLOW DOWN,” Beth called after me. “Talk to me. I wanted to tell you . . . I did, but—”

  “There’s no time for that,” I said as I plunged headfirst into the crowd in front of the New York Public Library. This was beyond hurt feelings. Beyond my pride. “He might know something about Rhys.”

  “What are you going to do?” Beth asked as she struggled to keep up.

  When I realized I had no plan, I stopped short, sending Beth crashing into me. Getting out the door and going to the library was as far as my brilliant strategizing had gotten me. The old Ash would’ve been on the ball—she would’ve scored tickets to the event, made an entrance—but no, here I was in jeans and a T-shirt, surrounded by paparazzi, people taking selfies, couples kissing. The whole scene made me want to gag.

  “I’ll know what to do when I see him,” I said as I elbowed our way to the front of the barricade.

  “Please don’t be reckless,” Beth said nervously as the limos began to arrive. “You don’t have anything sharp, do you?

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” I teased. “All I have is this ribbon,” I said as I pulled it from my hair and secured it around my wrist. “I guess I can always use it to strangle him.”

  The guy standing next to me—husky, middle-aged, with a Hello Kitty autograph book—looked at me with wide eyes.

  “JK.” I flashed a saccharine smile.

  He let out a nervous chuckle before returning to his sweating and catcalling.

  “Ash, I’m serious.” Beth clung to my arm. “If you lose your temper, you could end up exposing him, exposing yourself as immortal. I know what he did was wrong, but Dane is my friend.”

  I looked at her sharply. “Dane is gone.”

  “You don’t really believe that or you wouldn’t be here. Da
ne saved my life—took care of me when no one else would. And he loved you.”

  I stared straight ahead into the blur of flashing lights. It hurt to hear her speak of him that way . . . to speak of him at all. It hadn’t occurred to me how torn she must’ve felt. Beth was loyal to a fault. Loyal to Quivira. Loyal to Rhys. Loyal to me. And like it or not, loyal to Dane.

  Maybe Beth was right to be nervous. I had no idea what seeing him would do to me. It was the ultimate test. Could I be in his presence without wanting to kiss him or tear his throat open?

  A sleek black Jaguar pulled up. Cameras were flashing; girls were screaming. A dashing figure emerged and I knew it was him. The way he stood, the way he walked, the way he lowered his chin as if he were on the verge of blushing from all the attention. I thought he’d look odd in a tux, out of place, but he wore it with the same casual confidence as the homespun clothes he was wearing when we first met at the junkyard. Frantically, I searched for signs of Coronado’s presence, but all I saw was Dane. All I felt was Dane. The Dane I remembered; the Dane who broke my heart. Could it be possible that he was somehow able to gain control? “Is that really you?” I whispered.

  As he turned to ascend the stairs, two gorgeous women trailed after him. I didn’t know if one was his date, or both, or if they were just handlers. But I didn’t like it. I couldn’t believe he was going to slip in and out of town like I was some girl he met at a bar once. I wanted to scream out, We’re blood bound, you asshole, but thought better of it.

  With each step he took away from me, my heart receded deeper into my chest, as if it were crawling back into darkness.

  But then Dane stopped, glancing over his shoulder.

  I felt his gaze slip over my skin like warm, liquid fingers.

  Ducking behind a group of photographers, I took in a shuddering breath.

  Even in this strange place, a sea of concrete and flashing lights between us, my blood seemed to shimmer in my veins, as if it were reaching out for him.

  Whether it was Dane or Coronado, I knew it would be hard seeing him in the flesh.

  I knew it would open old wounds.

  But I didn’t expect to want him all over again.

  And that wrecked me more than anything.

  6

  JUST AS I was catching my breath, praying I wasn’t spotted, Beth started waving frantically. “Over here, Dane! It’s Ash and Beth!”

  I grabbed her arm, pulling it down, but when I looked back toward the steps, he was gone.

  If Dane saw us, he certainly wasn’t going out of his way to acknowledge it. What did I expect? That he’d wade through the crowd and take me in his arms? The fact that that was the first thing that popped in my head made me cringe.

  “What is it?” Beth asked.

  “Nothing.” I shook it off. “Look, we have to figure out how to get inside and—”

  “Come with us,” a man said as he gripped my elbow. There was another one standing next to Beth.

  “Great. That Hello Kitty asshole must’ve ratted me out,” I muttered to Beth. “Officers, look, I’m not a threat to anyone. It was an innocent comment.”

  “And even if she did strangle her boyfriend, he wouldn’t die. It’s a long story, but—”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I interrupted. “Not anymore.”

  The guard hanging on to me looked me up and down. “Confirmed,” he said as he touched his Bluetooth.

  “They don’t believe me! Of course they don’t. Oh my God, you think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I laughed. “Okay, look,” I said as I dug my phone out of my pocket. “I’m just going to call my lawyer. He’ll straighten—”

  The security guy snatched the phone out of my hand and slipped it into his pocket.

  “Hey—”

  “Oh, she’s telling the truth,” Beth chimed in. “Timmons, that’s her lawyer, but it turns out he was also her mom’s lover, but her mom had to sacrifice herself to this really mean lady who was trying to take over Ash’s body.”

  “Beth.” I glowered at her.

  “Oh, sorry. Did I do the TMT again?”

  “TMT?”

  “Too much talk.”

  As they pulled us around the side of the building, where catering trucks and limos were jamming up Forty-First Street, I was trying to figure out a means of escape, but when I saw they were taking us past the security barricade, inside the library for questioning, I stopped resisting. They were taking us exactly where we needed to be. Once I got inside, maybe I could cause a disturbance, flush him out. I knew this library inside and out from when Rhys and I used to play hide-and-seek in the stacks as kids. One time, Rhys hid inside the utility closet near the Rose Room. The one you can’t open from the inside. He was only trapped in there for three minutes, but I don’t think he ever got over it.

  The two security guards led us up a back stairwell, up three flights, to an elaborately carved wood door. Just as I was getting ready to bite his hand and tell Beth to run, they let go of us and opened the doors.

  As Beth pulled me forward, I caught the raised edge of the mark on the guard’s wrist, the crow, wings outstretched. “Arcanum,” I whispered. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. We were standing smack-dab in the center of one of the most prestigious parties in New York City.

  I tried to tug on the door, but they were barring the exit. My plan was to surprise him, so I could keep the upper hand, but Dane had been expecting me. He knew I’d take the bait, and like the eternal fool, I’d played right into his hands.

  7

  I’D BEEN IN the Rose Room during the day a million times to study, but never at night. There was something even more magical about it. The long heavy oak tables had been pushed aside to make room for a full orchestra. There were white gardenias and peonies everywhere. Movie stars and fashionistas, dressed to kill. At least Beth had on a sundress. I didn’t even look good enough to be mistaken for one of the staff. People were staring, and not in a good way. Beth urged me to at least pull down my hoodie. As soon as I did, I got a glimpse of my hair in one of the ornate gilded mirrors and almost burst out laughing.

  “This isn’t how I wanted to do this, not by a long shot, but we might as well get it over with.”

  “Okeydokey. I’ll look for him over here first,” Beth said as she pursued a passing tower of macarons.

  “Beth . . . wait,” I whispered, but she was already gone.

  A part of me wanted to slink back and melt into the walls, but I came here for answers. I stepped to the edge of the dance floor, to make myself known, when I spotted him across the room.

  The moment our eyes met, my resolve seemed to seep right out of my pores. The way he maneuvered around the dancing couples was captivating, a dance unto itself, until all I could see was him . . . all I could hear was the sound of his footsteps beating in time with my heart. I wondered if he could hear it. I placed my hand over my chest to dampen the feeling, but the scar from our blood bond seemed to sear straight through to my palm. I forced myself to hold my breath for a moment. I wasn’t sure what his scent would do to me.

  He walked toward me, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his eyes smoldering in the candlelight. Plucking a sprig of violets from one of the elaborate arrangements, he placed it in my hair. “Do you know what the violet symbolizes?”

  “Death?” I replied.

  He stepped closer, gazing down at me through his thick dark lashes, and I swore he could see right through me. Every fear, every nightmare, every drop of blood I spilled in his name. “It can also mean resurrection. It symbolizes fragility. A love taken too soon.”

  “Not soon enough.” I removed the bloom from my hair, pulverizing it between my fingers.

  On pure instinct, I breathed him in. His scent hit me like a powerful wave. I could taste him on the tip of my tongue. It was everything and nothing like I remembere
d. The sea salt riding on a hint of saddle leather. Sandalwood and musk mixed with mandarin. On paper, it would seem unharmonious, but here, in this moment, it was everything.

  I glanced around the room, conscious of the gawkers looking for a juicy tidbit. “I can’t do this . . . not here,” I said as I turned to lead him out of the room, but he caught my hand.

  “Dance with me.” The warmth of his skin, the firm grip of his fingers took me aback. “I never got to dance with you at the meeting house. Watching you dance with Brennon was not my idea of a good time.”

  “Right. Wasn’t that the night you tried to kill me in the corn? I mean, the first time you tried to kill me in the corn.”

  A few eavesdroppers looked on with wide eyes.

  “Brilliant sense of humor, as always.” He flashed an easy grin. “One dance.” He led me to the dance floor, snaking his arm around my waist, his thumb resting precariously on my hip bone.

  I stared down at his hand, hating myself for wanting to press into his touch, to feel his thumb singe a trail across my skin. “Don’t even think about it,” I said, raising his hand to my waist.

  A slow smile eased across his lips. “I’m glad to see you remember.”

  In that moment I wanted to head-butt him in the face, make him bleed all over the pretty white tablecloths, but I restrained myself.

  “See, I’m confused,” I said, as he continued to waltz me around the room, flawlessly, I might add. “Who am I even talking to right now? Because the last time I saw you, you weren’t you. You were Coronado.”

  “There was an adjustment period, to be sure, a delicate negotiation for control. But Coronado can be reasonable. It’s me, Ashlyn. Blood and salt.”

  “How dare you say those words to me . . . my mother’s words.”

  “But don’t you see?” he whispered as he pulled me closer. “She was right. Those words belong to us. I carved out my heart and threw it into the deepest ocean. And I’d do it again and again. I will never be sorry for loving you.”

  “And what about lying to me, tricking me, killing all my ancestors?”