by Bailey Dark
Lance. The thought of him wrapped up in Holly floods my mind and is followed by the realization that I’m currently in Tristan’s arms. The same Tristan who abandoned me all those years ago. Am I allowing this because of Lance? Am I sinking so low as to use Tristan to make myself feel better?
“Stop,” I say, pushing Tristan away. “I-I can’t do this.”
Bewildered, Tristan takes a step toward me. My hands fly up, stopping him where he is.
“Don’t come any closer,” I warn. “I won’t do this with you.”
“Why?”
The simple word is said with mounting anger. How on earth can he possibly be angry at me?
“You can’t be serious,” I screech. “After all you put me through, why would I?” I turn on my heel, ready to flee. If I stay a moment longer, I’d likely punch him.
“Gwen. Stop. Please,” he says, reaching out and grabbing my elbow.
I whirl around on him. “You have no idea the pain I felt when you left me. The way you did it. You were so cold. So…” I struggle with the word. “heartless.”
Shame plasters all over his features and gives me some semblance of peace. Knowing he feels bad is a start in the right direction, but it doesn’t erase the last four years, and I plan to make sure he knows it. I’m done holding it in.
“I cried for months waiting for you to reach out to me. To explain.”
“I,” he tries to interject, but I cut off his words.
“No. You don’t get to talk. You’re going to listen to everything I have to say. You robbed me of that when you ran off like a fucking coward.”
He cringes, but he remains silent.
“I wondered for months what I had done wrong. You made me miserable and it was Lance who was there to pick me up.”
He appears stung by those words. Good. He deserves to hurt.
“Where is he now, Gwen? Why isn’t he here?”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t even speak to me about Lance. I’m here because of this fucking trial and you…” I huff, trying to calm down. “You’re here for the same reason. Nothing more. You’re not here to help me. You need in that library as much as I do.”
After my tirade, my body sags in exhaustion. Tears slide unbidden down my cheeks and Tristan’s eyes widen at the sight. I probably look like a crazed psycho, still harboring resentment for something done when we were mere children. Neither of has experienced life before that time. Hell, I hadn’t even been properly kissed by a boy when he had left. I was inexperienced and clinging to a fantasy that my childhood crush and I were going to take the next step together. I thought we were going to grow…together. I was a foolish girl.
“Gwen,” he says my name so softly, so reverently, that I begin to cry harder.
“This isn’t fair to him. After one indiscretion, I ran into your arms. I’m so weak.”
“I may have hurt you by leaving, but we were just kids, Gwen. I would’ve never betrayed you like he did. Not if you were mine.”
He comes to me, drawing me in without my permission. I go stiff in his arms, but I don’t push him away. No matter how much I want to say otherwise, this feels like home. He feels like home. I have been missing something for a long time and it’s clearly him. I’m about to admit that aloud, but I know without a doubt that that’s the truth.
If you were mine. I repeat his words in my head. It’s the one thing I always wanted him to be to me and me to him. If he hadn’t run off, maybe we would’ve been, but he’s right. I had just been thinking the same thing moments ago. We were practically kids when he left. How could I harbor such resentment for him, yet still defend Lance? I saw his exchange with Holly with my own eyes. He was a willing participant. An eager one at that.
I make the decision then and there to forgive Tristan, but he can’t just waltz back into my life and expect that everything will go back to the way it was before. Everything has changed. I’ve changed.
“Why the falling out? What could he possibly be angry with you about?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with my issues with Lance, but I need to talk to him about things before I talk to anyone else,” I say, resigned. “I forgive you, Tristan, but I’d be lying if I said I trusted you. You didn’t care enough about me then and I’d be a fool to think you did now.”
His forehead drops to mine and I can feel his warm breath on my face. It’s minty and divine. If I only lift my head just slightly, I can feel his lips on mine once more. I sigh, knowing he’s breaking down my defenses with just a simple touch.
“I know I’ve given you no reason to trust me. I know I have to earn it, but you have to let me try.” His words come out in a plea. “Please let me try.”
He sounds so vulnerable that I finally look up into his eyes. The sorrow I see breaks that last bit of armor I have erected over my heart.
“Friends? We can start there,” I suggest.
He pulls me in tighter and places a kiss on my forehead. “Whatever you need me to be, I’ll be.”
We stand in silence for a few moments before I finally step out of his embrace.
“Right now, I need you to be my ally.” I throw out the olive branch. “We have a library to break into.”
His answering grin is all I need to know our alliance has been formed.
Chapter Ten
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, hoping like hell that Tristan has a better one than I do.
“Well, according to my calculations the library should be somewhere right down this next hall,” he says, pointing to a curve straight ahead.
I follow closely behind him, shining the light from my flashlight along his path.
“Gwen, could you maybe point that thing towards the ground? The light is bouncing off the wall and blinding me,” he says with a chuckle.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, lowering the beam to illuminate the floor along his path.
We round the bend and come to a hallway completely devoid of…well…anything. There’s absolutely nothing in this hallway. It goes on for as far as the eye can see. Impossible.
“What the hell?” I say. “How is that possible?”
“You’re right. It isn’t,” he agrees.
“This is exactly where my map says it should be, though.”
Tristan looks around before finally saying, “It’s glamoured.”
“How do we take care of that?”
He turns around with a raised brow. “Gwen, have you paid attention to your studies at all?” his voice is light with humor.
I shrug my shoulders. “One requires magic in order to do these types of things.”
“Still would’ve helped if you had the basic knowledge.”
With my hands on my hips, I level him with an agitated stare. “We could sit here and fight about this all day or you could simply un-glamorize it.”
Mr. High and Mighty chuckles, shakes his head, and says, “Stand back”.
His hands don’t even so much as rise. In fact, I have no idea what the hell he does, but the next thing I know, the hallway transforms and two wooden doors much like the D’Morte Library’s appear to our right.
“All right then. That was the easy part,” he says.
All the while, I’m standing there contemplating what else lies ahead for us. He shakes both of his hands and places them onto the large brass knockers. When he pulls harshly, they don’t budge.
“Please tell me you didn’t truly believe it was going to be that easy.”
“I hoped,” he admits.
“I don’t see any lock to even put a key,” I offer, trying to be of some assistance.
“Because there’s no need for it. The door’s warded.”
“How in the world do we combat that?” I ask.
“Typically, to undo the ward someone of the same lineage needs to undo it. Your father is very influential here,” he says off handedly. “Come here,” he motions me forward. “Place your hands on the door and say open.”
I cock my eyebrow at him in disbelief. �
�You can’t honestly think that’s gonna work.”
“Do you have any better ideas? he asks.
“Nope,” I confess.
Doing as he asks, I place both hands upon the wooden doors and say, “Open.”
To my absolute astonishment, they do.
“Holy shit. It worked,” Tristan says, pulling me into a hug and swinging me around in celebration. “Give me something unbreakable,” he commands.
I take off my jacket and hand it to him. He balls it up and throws it into the room. We wait, but nothing happens. No alarms sound and no footsteps are to be heard.
“You ready?” he asks with a smirk.
“As I’ll ever be.”
He takes my hand in his and we walk through the doorway together. Relief washes over me when still, nothing occurs. We manage to get into the Sacred Library unscathed. Now, I need to find the book and get the hell out of here without Tristan realizing what I’ve taken. He can help me get in, but he can’t know anything more.
Along the right side of the room are glass cases filled to the brim with ancient artifacts.
As curious as I am to discover what was in the cases and why they’re dangerous, I don’t want to tempt fate by taking longer than necessary. My eyes scan the room until a row of bookshelves comes to view in the back left.
I eye Tristan warily and am pleased to find he’s paying me no attention. Knowing
that we’re both bound by the same agreement to not tell others what we seek, I turn away from him. I won’t put him in jeopardy by being inquisitive. He’s helped me get in, after all.
Walking briskly to the shelves, I start scanning the books that I’m pleased to find alphabetized. Going to the S shelves, I scan until I find the Souveign book of Shadows. A wide smile breaks out across my face as victory is mine. I grab the book, removing it from the shelf and hiding it under my jacket, when a hideous alarm sounds all around us.
“What happened?” Tristan yells.
“I-I don’t know.”
“We’ve got to go. Now.”
With my heart pumping in my chest and sweat breaking out across my hairline, I bolt for the exit. The sound of glass breaking echoes around the room, but I don’t look back. I know Tristan has found what he is looking for, too. Not a minute later, Tristan is behind me. With his hand on my back he instructs me to go.
I run, rounding the corner and heading toward where we came in, but black robed figures are coming down the steps.
“Shit,” Tristan hisses. “Hurry, this way,” he says, pulling me back toward the library. A howl rings out through the hallway, stopping me in my tracks.
“Tristan, what is that?”
“Hounds. They’ll let them loose to track us. We have to get the fuck out of here.”
We run past the library, down the now not so unending hallway. Each door that we open produces a dark closet.
“Damn, they’ve put more glamour up.”
“They’ve what?” I screech.
“Thwarting our escape.”
“No shit,” I bellow.
I’m already breaking out in a hot sweat, panic enveloping me, but the sound of the hounds being let loose makes my blood run cold.
“Run,” I scream.
We both take off, the hounds quickly snapping at our heels. We are skidding around corners and doing everything to lose the ferocious creatures. We finally put some distance between us, but it’s short lived. We eventually run out of hallway and come to a dead end. Tristan comes to a complete stop.
“What are you doing?”
“Get behind me,” he yells, pushing me back.
He takes an offensive stance, as though he’s going to take the hounds on single-handedly. I don’t have time to question his insanity. The hounds round the corner and slow to a crawl. They stalk toward us menacingly, like a lion on its prey. I continue opening doors to find that each of them is empty. There is nowhere to hide or escape.
Tristan is mumbling something under his breath, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. The mumbles turned to chanting. He is calling upon his abilities. Knowing that Tristan is powerful gives me hope, but time is running out. These beasts are too close.
Much too close.
I watch in horror as one of the hounds leaps toward him, sinking its mammoth jowls into Tristan’s arm. He cries out, but continues chanting. All the while the animal remains fixed to him. I feel helpless. I can’t use powers, I can’t take on the hounds, and I’m utterly useless.
One last chant flows from Tristan before the hound goes flying backward, crashing into the others. It gives us a moments reprieve to try to figure out something, but Tristan just stays motionless.
“Tristan,” I yell, but he ignores me.
Heavy footfalls around the corner make me paralyzed, as it signals the black cloaks are rounding on us. If we’re caught, even our families will have a hard time keeping us from serious penalties. Hell, they have sent the hounds after us. Death might be in our cards.
Tristan whispers one final word and the hall changes yet again. He has lowered the glamour and possibly saved our lives. A set of stairs appears to my left.
“Go,” he commands.
I run without another word. My feet carry me at speeds that seem inhuman, but I never look back. I can hear Tristan’s footfalls hot on my heels. I don’t know where to go that we won’t be found. This place is a damn labyrinth and although I know my way around, in a situation like this, my brain goes to mush. I am essentially lost. Panic begins to take back over, but Tristan grabs me by the waist, taking control.
He ushers me down hallway after hallway, making left turns and right turns. I can’t tell if he is just trying to lose the cloaks or if he really knows where he was going. This isn’t his school. He is a visitor here; surely, he can’t know his way around better than me.
We finally stop at a door in which Tristan quickly unlocks. He practically pushes me in, but I’m not complaining. Breathing heavily, I look around at the small room.
“Where are we?” I ask.
He takes four deep breaths before answering.
“This is my room during the trials. We’re safe here.”
“How can you say that?” I screech. “Those dark figure saw us.”
“No, they didn’t,” he assures me. “We were cloaked.”
“How? When?” The questions pours out of me in a rush of adrenaline.
“They couldn’t see us. While you were opening up the door to the library, I put a cloaking spell on us.”
“How are you doing all of this?” I practically whine.
He chuckles. “I’ve had many years of practice.”
Agitated, tired, and completely shaken, I drop onto his bed.
“Are you sure there’s no way that they’ll know it was us?”
“I’m absolutely positive.”
I let out the breath I’m still holding. “What do we do now?”
“We stay here and sneak you out in the morning.”
I stand quickly to my feet. “I can’t stay in your room.”
My cheeks are burning, and my thighs are automatically clenching together. The idea of staying in the same room as Tristan is wreaking havoc on my already overloaded system.
“Do you have a choice?” he asks, smirking.
He obviously hasn’t missed my reaction to his news, which irritates me more than anything.
“They will undoubtably be searching the halls, and if you’re found roaming them, it’ll be obvious you were the one who broke into the library.”
He has a point. At this time of the night no one else is up. I slip back down onto his bed, wanting to argue but knowing better. He’s right. I lean back, ready to try to relax, when my eye catches the rip in his shirt, blood oozing from the wound.
“Tristan, your arm,” I say, pointing to the gaping cut.
He looks down. “Yeah, it hurts. I’ll need your help to heal it,” he says, coming to sit next to me.
I take one closer look and the
room begins to spin. Nausea rises up, threatening to spill vomit out of my opened mouth. I’ve never been good with blood.
“Gwen, look at me,” he instructs. “Give me your hand.”
I do as he asked, keeping my eyes on his. He places my hand above his and covers over his bleeding arm.
“Repeat after me,” he orders. “Purgo Sarcio.”
We both say the phrase three times. When he removes our hands from his arm the caked blood remains, but the gash from the bite is gone. I look at him in stunned silence.
“These are like parlor tricks, Gwen. It’s easy if you’d only employ your abilities.”
“Easy for you to say,” I huff.
“Your abilities are there, they just have to be awakened. Your father should’ve been giving you extra training instead of concerning himself with the council. They have plenty of muscle there; they didn’t need him,” he stands, stomping around the room, running his hands roughly through his hair. “God, he’s such a bastard.”
His hatred for my father has me thrown. There’s always been a strain between my father and me, but the animosity I see with Tristan—someone who hardly knows him anymore—is odd to me. I want to ask him, but exhaustion comes over me.
Everything from the night finally catches up with me and I shake as the adrenaline rushes from me. Tristan notices, sitting down and pulling me to lay next to him. I cuddle into his warm chest as he whispers soothing words into my ear. He runs his hand soothingly through my hair, helping to calm me.
When I finally stop shaking, he rises from his bed, going to his closet. He pulls out a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, throwing them to me. I raise my eyebrow in challenge. Did he intend to watch me change?
“I’ll turn my back…if you want.”
Butterflies swarm. If you want.
Of course, I want him to. Don’t I? Yes. Absolutely. We’ve just started to make headway and the last thing we need to do is rush into something because our emotions are on overdrive from the events of the night.
“Turn already,” I say, laughing when he doesn’t immediately turn his back to me. I quickly change out of my clothes and into his offered belongings. When I’m done,