by Kat Colmer
The loss of her near-caress was jarring. Right now I needed her touch, needed to feel the reassurance of her heartbeat through my skin.
So I picked up her hand, pressed her palm to my cheek, and breathed her in. It hurt and my lungs protested, but the scent of her, all warm, unharmed, and here…so worth it. Much better than the industrial washing powder whiff of the hospital linen.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You promised.” She slid her hand from my face, her thumb skimming my cheek, leaving a teasing trail of warmth.
“And technically I didn’t break that promise; I didn’t go in alone. Although I’d have been better off if I had,” I finished under my breath. Leo’s betrayal sat heavy in my gut.
Cora threw a cautious glance toward the closed door before turning back to me. “I don’t know what went on back there, but Leo helped get us out.”
“He’s a Guardian.”
“What?” Cora’s eyes widened, the hazel in them threatening to take over her face. “No way.”
“Yes way. He’s an Eros Guardian who made a pact with the Groth Maar in exchange for… I don’t even know what. All he had to do was make sure three other Guardians stuffed up their choices. I was the third.” The monitor started beeping faster again, so I yanked the peg off my finger to shut it up. Not a smart move—it set off an alarm more annoying than the blasted beeping.
“Don’t do that.” Cora grabbed my hand and shoved the peg back on my finger. “It’ll bring the nurses running.” Her eyes zeroed in on the hospital room door, and when it remained closed, she turned back to me.
“When I got there, it looked like he was about to…like he was going to…” She took a shaky breath. “Leo was going to kill you, wasn’t he?”
I waited for the beeping to ratchet up again, but my heart rate remained steady. Could be my brain refused to accept the idea that Leo had been prepared to go the way of my mother’s killer and slash that khopesh across my throat. “Elymas wanted to see proof of his loyalty.”
“But he didn’t do it.”
“He would have if you hadn’t shown up.”
“You don’t know that,” Cora argued, but I wasn’t convinced. She leaned forward in her chair. “So what did the Groth Maar have that he wanted so badly?”
“I don’t know.”
“Guess we’ll have to ask him.”
“Don’t tell me he’s here.” The last thing I wanted was for the traitor to sit vigil outside my hospital room. Seeing his face would cause me to set off every damn alarm in the building. Agitated, I tried to sit up higher in the bed, but the movement sent razorblades into my shoulder and sandbagged my chest.
“Easy there.” Cora pushed gently on my good shoulder. “No, he’s not here.” I collapsed back against the mattress. “He’s disappeared. Beth’s been trying to reach him, but he’s not answering his phone, and we don’t know where he lives.” Strands of Cora’s hair brushed my face as she fussed with the pillow behind my back. Damn, I could get used to this.
“Have you got an address for him?” she asked.
I shook my head. I didn’t. I’d never been round to his place. Somehow we’d always ended up at mine. Guess it’d all been part of the grand Groth Maar plan. Prick. I didn’t want to waste any more time talking about Leo.
“So, what’s the damage?” I lifted the sheet off my chest and found my torso wrapped in meters of bandage like some half-baked mummy.
Forehead all lines and furrows, Cora sat down next to the bed again and pinned me with a serious look. “One collapsed lung, two broken ribs, and three-hour emergency surgery. It was touch and go for a while—the blade nicked an artery.”
No wonder I felt like shit. “How long have I been out?”
“Two whole days. It’s Monday morning.”
“How much does Aunt Helena know?” As soon as I asked the question, snatches of a heated conversation involving a knife and a nightclub tugged at my brain.
“She thinks you were attacked in the alley behind the Boom Room. That’s what we told the police. The story is we came home after the bush walk, showered, had dinner, then decided to go to the club. You must have already been gone by the time your aunt came home, and she never realized Beth and I were still upstairs.”
I frowned. “And they believed you? What about the lack of blood behind the club? Or the fact that the bouncer won’t remember letting us in. Plus, we didn’t send Aunt Helena a text telling her where we were going. We always let her know where we’ll be.”
Cora’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “It’s the best we could come up with. Concocting a believable cover story wasn’t exactly at the forefront of our minds; you were bleeding out, for crying out loud.”
Her lips trembled, and I felt like a thoughtless dick. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’ll be fine.” Not like anyone would believe the truth anyway. There was one other detail that bugged me, though. “What did you do with the swords?”
“Don’t worry, it’s hidden well. I stashed it in my garage.”
It? Just one? “What do you mean, it? Please tell me it’s the Sword of Absolom?”
She looked past me at the hideous green curtain and shook her head. “It’s one of the swords the professor gave us.”
“Shit.” Leo had been the last to hold the Sword of Absolom. Which meant it could still end up in Elymas’s hands. Which meant Cora wasn’t safe. Hell, was this nightmare ever going to end?
A wave of bitter exhaustion washed over me. I let my head fall back and my eyes slide shut. “You should have let Leo finish me off. Then this would all be over.”
“Don’t talk crap, Jonas.” The angry, matter-of-fact edge to her voice almost made me smile. No defeatist talk for Cora. Even when her life was on the line. Better not let on I’d been ready to swallow Elymas’s blade to save that life. She’d go ballistic.
God, I loved her.
“And it is over,” she added in a whisper.
That got my attention. I cracked my lids to look at her. “How?”
With another glance at the door, she dug around in her jeans pocket and produced a piece of paper. A crumpled, red-stained, piece of paper. When she unfolded it and held it out for me to see, the little remaining moisture in my mouth dried up. There, despite the bloodstains smudging some of the lettering, was my name, front and center.
It really was over.
With an unsteady hand, I took the Book of Threads page from her. “You tore my page out.” I was having trouble believing it, but no matter how often I blinked, my name remained on the paper.
“I didn’t,” she said. “You did.”
Somehow I wrenched my eyes away from the bloodied parchment and frowned up at her.
“I found it balled up in your hand on the way here.”
How? I had no memory of doing it. There’d been the burn of the blade sliding between my ribs, the slick, grease-like feel of blood all over my hands, then Cora’s panicked breath on my face after I hit the floor. But no memory of tearing my page from the Book of Threads.
I looked back down—but there it was, in my hand.
It really was over.
Finally, Cora was safe.
The relief was overwhelming. It bubbled up and over, making me shake in an awkward and painful half laugh, half sob.
Cora grabbed me by the arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just… It’s over. You’re safe.” Suddenly relief morphed into bravery. Could have been the euphoria of knowing Elymas couldn’t touch her anymore, mixed with the hazy memory of her forehead pressed to mine as she held me in the back of her car, begging me not to leave her. Whatever it was, it gave me the courage to free my arm from her grasp and lace my fingers through hers.
Her response wasn’t encouraging; she gave me a tense smile and tugged her fingers away.
“And you’re
free,” she said. Her gaze slipped from mine and left me with the sensation that I was in danger of losing much more than her eye contact.
Did she really think I wanted to take up where I’d left off before Love’s Mortal Coil? If she did, she was swimming up the wrong lane. I loved her. It was all-consuming, mind-bending, and calm-infusing all at once. I’d been right about Dad. If this is what he’d felt for Mom, then I understood his crushing despair at losing her.
Without the curse hanging over our heads, I was going to do everything I could to gain Cora’s trust and convince her we should spend some time exploring this crazy, frightening territory beyond just friendship.
I snuck a glance at Cora’s profile, trying to read her expression. She was still avoiding my eyes. What do you expect? You told her she wasn’t enough for you, you asshat.
It was time to fix this. I sucked in a painful breath and gathered the words I should have said to her the moment her plane touched down in Sydney. “Cora, there’s something I need to—”
“He’s awake!” The door flew open and Beth covered the short distance to my bed in less than a second.
She hugged me, making me yelp. “Go easy! Collapsed lung here.”
She jumped back like I’d zapped her with electrical current. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just so glad to see you awake.” As soon as she’d stepped away from me, Beth looked over at Cora. Cora gave a brisk nod in answer to what looked like an unspoken question. I was puzzled for a second, then realized the exchange likely had something to do with making sure we all had our nightclub story straight.
Because a moment later, Aunt Helena stepped into the room. She was carrying a tray of coffee cups and what looked like an egg and lettuce sandwich. She handed the sandwich and one of the cups to Cora while she spoke to me. “How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain? Has a doctor been in to have a look at you?”
Her words were all business—Aunt Helena in courtroom mode—but the gentle hand that brushed my forehead said what her words didn’t. Guess the inability to say what we really felt ran in the Leander family. Well, I’d resolved to change that. Might as well start now.
“Like shit. A bit. And no,” I said.
Aunt Helena frowned. I couldn’t tell if it was because she was worried about my level of discomfort or my use of the s-word. “Well, let’s get you seen to, then.”
As Aunt Helena reached for the phone hanging on the wall beside my bed, I stole another glance at Cora. When she saw me looking, she gave her egg sandwich her undivided attention. Closing my eyes, I sighed and let my head sink into my pillow. With Mother Goose calling for medical backup, I wouldn’t be declaring myself anytime soon.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Cora
When the doctor arrived, two nurses in tow, I decided it was time for me to leave. I slipped out of the crowded hospital room and made my way outside. Half an hour later Beth found me sitting on a bench in the hospital grounds, playing with my empty coffee cup.
“The doc’s happy with him.” She sat down beside me. “Says he’s healing quickly.”
I dropped the paper cup and whipped my head around to look at her. He can’t be—
“Don’t worry,” she cut me off before I could voice my panicked thought. “Not that quickly.”
I exhaled and slumped against the wooden bench. “For a second I thought…”
She shook her head. “No. No more Protection Charm. He’s back to his normal old self.”
Yep, and that was what had my stomach twisted up in knots. That Jonas would revert back to his normal old self in every way—his preference for relationships with a weeklong use-by date included.
I hated admitting it, but somewhere between my midnight talk with Beth two days ago and him waking up this morning, I’d started to hope Beth was right, and Jonas really did feel more for me than just friendship. I’d grown to like the idea of being Jonas’s one and only chance at love. Madam Curie could just go shove it. But now, with the curse broken, he had all his old options laid out in front of him.
I plucked the paper cup off the grass and turned back to Beth. “Did he get a chance to tell you about Leo?”
Her face hardened at the mention of Leo’s name. “Yeah. Briefly.” She shook her head, her blonde hair falling forward as she bent to rest her elbows on her knees. “I can’t believe that bastard. I can’t believe he’d do that.” She kicked at the grass beneath the bench with the toe of her shoe. “Jonas was the loser’s only friend.”
“So were you,” I reminded her.
She sneered at the clump of dirt she’d dug up with her foot. “Not anymore.”
Just two days ago she’d pointed out that Leo had helped us escape Elymas. I reminded her of that, too.
“You’re defending him? Why are you defending him?”
Was I defending Leo? No, I wasn’t. But I hadn’t shoved him into the people-more-hated-than-Hitler category that Beth and Jonas had. The fact was, Leo had helped get us out. So being a Guardian meant his life hadn’t been at risk, but just because the Groth Maar couldn’t kill him didn’t mean they couldn’t torture him for what he’d done. Because of that, I hadn’t made up my mind about the situation yet.
I opened my mouth to say so, but Beth wouldn’t let me speak.
“He was going to kill Jonas! Kill my brother!” Her voice shook with the indignation of it. “Everything about him was a lie. Every single thing. He was only ever interested in helping himself. I can’t believe I almost—” She looked away, but not before I caught the glint of moisture in her eyes. This had hit her hard, almost as though she felt a personal betrayal, one that had nothing to do with Leo being her brother’s friend. It confirmed there’d been more than just friendship for Leo in the mixed bag of feelings she had for the guy.
Which brought me back to my own dilemma. I flattened the paper coffee cup in my fingers, not able to hold them still. “Did Jonas say anything…else?”
“No. There wasn’t much time before the nurses came back to change his dressing or something.”
“Right.” The word came out way too dejected. Beth must have heard the pathetic tone in my voice because she peered at me through dewy lashes. “Give him time, Cora. For a guy who reads a lot, he’s pretty useless when it comes to words.”
So of course time crawled along slower than a wombat in the middle of a heat wave. I toyed with the idea of blaming Sydney’s lack of altitude for the mind numbingly slow passing of each hour. Einstein’s Theory of Relativity stated that time moved faster at higher altitudes. At a piddly two hundred meters above sea level, Sydney had nothing on places like, say, La Rinconada in Peru, where I was certain the days flew by at a speedy five thousand meters above the sea.
But Albert E. and I both knew altitude wasn’t the problem. So moving to Peru wasn’t the solution. Getting Jonas alone for more than half a second was.
And that just wasn’t happening.
For the next two days Jonas’s hospital room could have been mistaken for Town Hall Station with the amount of people coming and going. Helena was a constant presence by his bedside. She’d set herself up in the corner of his room with her laptop and only left to make urgent phone calls. Twice a day, a doctor appeared to check on Jonas. And every half hour, a nurse materialized to ask him if he needed pain meds, or wanted something to eat, or to change his dressing, or mop his brow, or hold his hand. They’d have wiped his darn nose if he’d asked them to. Heck, the young ones would have wiped just about anything the way they eyed him. And he didn’t look like he minded the attention.
I decided jealousy was an emotion best experienced in private, so I left the room whenever he had a Nurse Feel Good tending to his needs. It was hard to curb the antisocial urge to trip them when they came out of his room with ear-to-ear grins splitting their stupid faces. The curse might have been broken, but the guy still had his Eros Guardian Charm.
Time
slowed right down Tuesday morning when two police officers came to interview Jonas. But he stuck to our story, and when he didn’t give them any significant new information they left.
That afternoon, the professor surprised us with a clandestine visit when Helena stepped out for one of her phone calls. He looked just as shocked as Jonas had when he saw the torn out Book of Threads page. His response to Leo’s betrayal, however, was unusual.
“Yes, not what he seemed, that one,” was all he said. He did promise to be in touch before he made a swift departure just as Helena’s heels clicked up the corridor.
So when Dad flew in on Tuesday night, I still hadn’t caught a quiet moment with Jonas. And as soon as I saw Dad’s face when he climbed out of his cab, I knew I had other problems.
“Which part of ‘call the clinic if anything happens’ was too hard to understand? Do you have any idea the effect Helena’s phone call had on my blood pressure?”
I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I could utter a sound, he dropped his suitcase on the front porch and wrapped me in a hug. “Dear God, Cora. You’ve been back less than a month, and I’ve already aged an entire decade.” His arms tightened around me. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him it wasn’t my fault that an idiot attacked us behind a nightclub with a knife, but I swallowed the lie. He deserved better.
“I’m sorry,” I said instead and squeezed him back. “I’m really sorry.”
He drew back from our hug and held me by the upper arms as he examined me for what seemed like an eternity. Most of my scrapes and bruises had healed, but he was a doctor; he could smell an injury a kilometer away. I held my breath, thankful the gashes from the Groth Maar fight at the library were healed over enough not to need a bandage anymore. Even with a T-shirt on, Dad’s keen eye would have spotted the dressing.
When I couldn’t take his silent interrogation anymore, I reached up and grabbed his hands. “Dad, really, I’m okay.”
He took a long, labored breath. “Yes, it looks that way. But I’m not.” He picked up his suitcase and turned for the front door. “So, no matter how much you argue, until Sunday I’m not letting you out of my sight.”