His eyes teem with agitation, and they zigzag all over my face.
“Just be honest with me,” I say.
He releases me and turns away. I sink against the wall, regaining my bearings. My biceps ache where his grip was, but aching is nothing new to me.
“If you’re going to let me in to the bizarre thickness that is you, just do it. Don’t hold back. That’s all there is between us! Heldbackness.”
Talon’s face falls. He drags a hand over his scarred jaw and down to his neck. He begins pacing, stops several times, huffs like a punctured balloon, and then paces again.
Like usual, he doesn’t say a word.
“Whatever,” I say. I stomp toward the couch, looking for my pack. With a grunt, I remember I no longer have it. So I head for the door instead.
I’m done. With him, with this. He got me to the city. I can find the tears from here. I know exactly in which direction they lie. And then I’ll go get Ren. On my own.
“Where are you going?” His voice is quiet, catching me on my way to the door.
I wheel around. “What, am I supposed to have conversations with myself? Cause that’s about as effective as…eeah!” I cut off with a squeak. In seconds, he grips my arms again, but this time he crushes me to him instead of the wall. My feet dangle above the ground.
“This is all I’ve got,” he says, jerking me as he speaks through his teeth. “My background. My training. Opening the deepest parts of me to someone I’ve only known a month is like handing over riddled ways to tear me down, weaken my defenses.”
I open my mouth only to shut it again. What is he saying?
“But you. You make me weak. My resolves, my goals. And it’s a weakness I want more of.”
His brow softens. Beads of gentle blue dust his irises. He slackens his grip, lowers me so my feet touch the carpet again, but he keeps me riveted to his body.
“Especially when I’m near you, you make me want to throw you to the ground and keep you there instead of fighting. To hold you in my arms instead of teaching you to block yourself. But I can’t be less than what I am.”
He releases me and steps toward the wall, bracing an arm against it. I don’t know what to say. He saves me the trouble.
“The strength leaves my arms when you’re in them. I feel as though I’ve lost control—a careful control that I’ve worked all my life to master. You’re tearing me down and I should hate you for it, but it only makes me want you more. So you tell me what to do, since I don’t seem to know anymore.”
“Kiss me.”
I have no clue where the words come from, but the feelings he’s finally admitting, the sound of his low, stirring voice, the submission in his eyes…
Talon glares at me through hardened brows. And then he turns, determination set in every line on his face.
His hands knot in my hair and I tremble, meeting the heat of him before his lips are against mine. He lowers and hugs me, lifting me until I’m flush with him and my feet dangle.
His lips move as if they already know mine, as if they’re meant to be there. I can’t concentrate on anything except his mouth deepening and the way my skin convulses, hyperaware of all the places he’s touching me, and the places he isn’t. The kiss lasts just long enough, and yet not long enough at all.
He pulls away, leaving me gasping.
“Was that open enough for you?” he asks, his woodsy scent swirling into me, his forehead against mine. I place a softer, slower kiss on his lips just to taste the feel of them.
“For now,” I say, breathing in time with him.
He gives me that heartbreaking grin that presses into his dimple, and my heart races. Too soon, he sets me down. The tears tap me on the shoulder, reminding me not to get sidetracked.
I comb hands through my damp hair and brush an unsteady finger to my lips, trying to capture the memory of his against them. Every fiber in me feels connected, and I drink in a deep breath.
The mood around us has lightened considerably. Talon kneels to the floor and begins rifling in his knapsack near the coffee table, fiddling with maps again.
“You said the tears were southeast of here. They’re probably in the Triad Palace. Fortunately for us, I lived there, so I know its passageways better than I know my hometown.”
Back to business so soon? I kneel beside him, happiness tripping through me, and hug him from behind. He may be ready to move on, but I’m not. Now that I’ve had a taste, I can’t get enough of him.
He clears his throat. Swallows.
“Now,” another gurgling throat-clear, “the entrances are here.” He points to the map.
“Where are they?” I taunt softly, inching to his neck and tugging his earlobe with my teeth.
Talon exhales. He peers back at me with smiles in his eyes. “You’re gonna get in trouble, you know that?”
I chew my lower lip. “Will I like it?”
He gives a silent chuckle and shakes his head as he sets the map down and crawls over me until I lay beneath him. We’ve been in this position before, but never this way. His heady scent is exhilarating.
He lowers his mouth to the hollow beneath my ear, kisses it once and says, “Maybe a little too much.”
I wrap my arms around him to pull him to me, but at once his arms are around me in a different way, and I’m plopped down on my butt beside him and the map.
“Wha—?”
He smirks and kisses the tip of my nose before jerking the map up. It gives off a crinkling complaint. “Time to focus.”
“But—”
Talon groans and throws the map down. “This is why I don’t open myself to you, Ambry. I have things to do—important things—and not much time to do them in. That war is coming any day.”
“You’re sure giving off strange messages then,” I say, rising. Waves of embarrassed heat wash up my neck.
He grunts and taps a hand to his forehead. “I never should have kissed you at all. It was stupid, and we just wasted a lot of time.”
“Stupid? Wasted? Thanks.” I fold my arms.
“Do you want to get the tears or not?”
“The tears. I hate those vrecking tears!” They slap an angry chant against my neck, but I ignore it. “Are they all you care about? Is that all I am to you? What’s going to happen when we get them back? Are you going to take them from me, and I don’t know, drink them? Then be off on your own again?”
“I knew it,” Talon mumbles. “I never should have—This is—”
“Don’t even,” I warn. He better not say stupid again. I can’t believe he said it in the first place.
“—so dumb. Love makes you so irrational.”
“Leave it to you to ruin—What did you just say?”
“Huh?”
“Love. You said love?”
“Well, it does,” he says as if justifying. “I’ve watched it in countless others. I’ve just never felt it firsthand.”
Blood beats in my ears. “You’re talking about…you’re saying you…”
Talon’s face softens, and once again he’s that awkward seventeen-year-old.
He holds my head in his hands; the touch skips over my skin and goes straight to my heart. Slowly, he brushes his lips against mine. I dip into his heat, and the only thing I can focus on is his mouth. The kiss singes my lips, and I force myself to think. To breathe.
“Why else would things be so complicated right now?” he says.
A grin takes over my face, and I throw myself on him. “You do?”
He laughs and squeezes me, rolls with me, holding me for a few minutes. Warmth pillows over and smothers the irascible irritation that bubbled in my chest minutes before.
Breathing is a difficult process being this close to him. He gazes into my eyes and strokes his fingertips across my cheekbone.
I capture his hand and bolt up, shifting my attention to the wall. I was so fixated on Talon—on that unbelievable kiss—I didn’t pay attention.
The tears hound at me harder than ever,
pricking at my pores like needles. Their call is urgent, bullying and insistent. How can I not have noticed them moving?
“What’s wrong?” Talon asks, his eyes pouring over me.
My brain feels disconnected, and I barely hear the words, though my mouth moves.
“The tears are outside.”
Talon yanks me to my feet in an instant. “You’re sure? They’re close?”
I dash to the window and peek out of the blinds. The last person I ever expected to see here marches alongside a few soldiers and nymphs. I press my nose as close to the glass as I can, straining my eyes to make sure I’m seeing who I think I’m seeing. And once it’s confirmed, I have to use the window frame for support.
What is Gwynn doing here? And with soldiers?
“Do the nymphs have the tears?” Talon asks. “Nymphs are totally ruthless when they get cornered. You don’t want to go upsetting them.”
I throw myself back against the wall and swallow a breath, not hearing him.
“Where do you think the Arcs got the Xian from?” he adds.
That distracts me for a moment. “Arcaians got their Xian claws from nymphs?”
“Nymphs can steal magic with their fingernails. They helped the Arcs fabricate the Xian.”
Whoa, that little detail got left out of the history lessons. “Since when have the nymphs been in line with the Arcs?”
“All I know is that I used to see them with us all the time, and they would do what the Arcs wanted. And I’ve been with them since…”
The tears screech, overpowering Talon’s words. I squint, trying to drown them out, but my hand has already turned the knob. Talon slams his weight against the door, grabbing my wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” I whisper, “I’ve got a friend out there.” Though what she’s doing in Valadir at night with soldiers on the prowl, I can’t tell.
With furrowed brows, he hesitantly steps back. I open the door as quietly as I can and slide out into the chilly night air. Moonlight winks through the thin cloud cover.
A girl carrying a shoulder bag leans against a tree. She gazes behind her at the soldiers invading a house across the street from where I stand. I spring forward, not sure she’ll even recognize me in these clothes I dug out of the wardrobe in the bedroom. Not that they’re much different from what I usually wear, but the shorts are flowy like a skirt.
“Gwynn, shh. It’s me.”
Her platinum blonde hair looks dull in the darkness and hangs down to her shoulders. Her features are slim and elegant, just like I remember. My heart warms at the sight of her.
Angels, I can’t wait to tell her about him—about that kiss.
“Ambry! What are you—?” She lowers her voice and peers to the side of me, looking past me. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says softer than before.
I can’t help feeling a little let down. I guess I’ve gotten used to Talon’s emotions. I shouldn’t expect Gwynn to be as emotional as she was the last time I saw her. I blink away the images of the cut on her face, her torn shirt.
I don’t have time to ask why she’s dressed all fashionable in a tweed pantsuit and pointy-toed shoes, or what she’s doing out here with the enemy. I can’t keep Talon waiting—worrying probably. And the tears’ hammering is ridiculously pouty and loud now that I’ve stepped outside.
“I need a favor,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice down.
“Anything.” Then she beams and pulls me in a quick hug. I stiffen. She’s acting excited. Maybe I’m wrong, and drinking those tears gave her permanent emotions. “It’s so good to see you.”
The Arcs are inspecting the house behind her, giving us a chance to scramble back across the street. It makes me think again of the last night I saw her. She probably doesn’t know Ren was taken. Man, there’s so much to tell her.
I knock once, and Talon opens the door. Gwynn and I scuttle in, taking in the house’s warmth. Gwynn’s smile unhinges at the sight of him, and her eyes go wide. She retreats until her heels hit the door.
“But he’s—you’re—”
“It’s okay, Gwynn. He’s my friend.” I swap a secret look with him, and my cheeks heat.
She grips the gray satchel draped across her shoulder. “Are you crazy? You’ll both get killed!”
Gwynn comes deeper into the house, pacing between the couch and the door, shaking her hands at the wrists. I’ve never seen her distressed like this. Not even about her stepdad. I speak fast. I have to make her understand.
“I took those other tears that night, Gwynn. And Tyrus stole them from me. I have to get them back.”
The droning prickles at my spine, and I force myself not to shudder. They tug at my waist, gearing me toward Gwynn as if she has the tears in her pocket.
No, not her pocket. Her shoulder bag seems to engulf all of my vision. My magic stirs, everything in me becomes agitated, and I know that’s their cry.
“He mentioned something like that,” Gwynn says, scratching her forehead.
“He?” I exchange a look with Talon, whose eyes are filled with caution.
“He keeps them in a xanther box so he can’t hear them screaming at him.” She lifts the heaviest part of the bag away from her body.
By the angels. She’s carrying the box with her.
I can’t figure out why she of all people has them. Not even a trace of magic can be detected on something if it’s concealed in a xanther box, but I can sense them as if they’re a part of me.
My tears. My poor tears.
“Who are you talking about?” I ask.
Gwynn stops pacing and faces me. It’s the same face, her long nose and almond eyes, but she looks different somehow.
“Tyrus,” she says.
“Tyrus! What are you—?”
Gwynn lights up, emphasizing the subtle change in her familiar features. She looks…older. I didn’t realize it at that first glance. “Oh, it’s so great, Ambry. He wants to marry me!”
Stop signs go up all over in my brain. “But you’re only sixteen…”
“Shh.” She peers at the door. “Not to him. I ran into him on my way to Valadir, and the tears flowing through me sort of told me what to say. I hadn’t seen myself since I left Cadehtraen, so I didn’t know the tears, you know, aged me or whatever, but it’s perfect.”
Aged her. My eyes narrow. The bones of her face are more developed somehow, like they’re set into their rightful places. She’s lost a little bit of weight, too—not that she was anywhere near big before. She’s just slimmed even more. She could be, I don’t know, somewhere in her twenties or something. I smack my forehead. How did I miss it?
“You do look way older! And prettier, I don’t know, more mature.”
Gwynn beams, practically radiating. She looks happier and more at peace than I’ve ever seen her before. Affection shines through me, too, until another realization strikes.
“That’s why your stepdad was summoned to be executed.”
Gwynn tosses her hair, smug. Very different from the sedate groove she was in before we left home.
“He got what he deserved.”
“Uhh…”
I’m not sure which version of her I like better. I always wanted her to be more assertive, to stand up for herself, but this is a little extreme. To have him killed? Sure, I always said he deserved to burn, but it’s not really her place to make that call. Or more likely, Tyrus’s.
“Oh, Ambry. Life is so great now. I’m so happy! See this?” She holds up her hand to show a glistening talisman like the one the bouncer wore in Black Vault. “Arcaian technology is so advanced. This bracelet blocks me from magic! I can feel now, just like you can!”
“You’re wearing something the Arcs gave you?”
“It does more than magic ever could.”
“Yeah, but they probably used Itharian magic to make it! Gwynn, don’t you realize Tyrus is about to start a war against your people? Don’t you know he wants to take everyone’s magic—in
cluding yours?”
She points at me, a twisted gleam in her eyes. “I knew it, you fun-suck. You can’t stand that I’m the same as you now, can you?”
The floor falls out from under my feet. What has Tyrus done to my best friend?
“You’re just jealous because I drank tears and have things so good. You want some tears, too.”
What is going on? I almost want to laugh. “Gwynn, I swear. I really did get these at Black Vault. Tyrus stole them from me! I’m just getting them back.”
Her gaze sharpens, more hawk-like than ever. Brutal. “He told me you’d say that.”
My mouth drops, and I look to Talon. His arms cross over his chest like a breastplate, hands tucked beneath them.
“But you…Gwynn. Please.” Don’t do this. Don’t choose a guy over me. “What about Ren?” I ask, the words slipping out. “What are you doing here with some older guy when we both know you’re crazy for my brother? Did you know Tyrus took Ren?”
She blanches, and blotches of red smatter her high cheek bones.
“Tyrus!” she yells, folding her arms and digging her eyes at me.
Footsteps clobber on the ground outside, and the tears’ hum becomes deafening. It opens my veins and shrieks into my ears.
“Sorry, Gwynn,” I say before jabbing two fingers into the space between her neck and her collarbone, the way Talon taught me. She crumples to the floor like a puppet without its strings.
I tremble and cling to Talon—I can barely stand. He holds me close, my cheek brushes his, and I whisper in his ear. “I just—I just knocked her out, right?”
“She’ll be fine,” he says, bending for the satchel.
“They were in this room, Talon. I had to do it.” I had no other choice, not really.
“You don’t have to justify anything to me,” he says, opening the flap. The voices outside grow louder. The number of footsteps multiplies.
“It came from this one,” someone shouts.
The tears thrum, stealing every ounce of my attention, my energy. I remove the glossy black box from Gwynn’s bag. At my touch, the box starts to shake and rattle. The stream springs forth in my veins. Wind surges, gusting against my skin, whirling my hair. I channel my magic into the lock, hearing a definite click.
Such A Secret Place (Stolen Tears Book 1) Page 20