“You’ll steal her revenge if you save her now,” Marco said, stopping Jace from rescuing me. “For centuries you wished she’d find some fight. Don’t take it when she’s finally flexing her muscles.”
Her slaves were on me, ripping me off their master. They dug their cold fingers into my side. I felt my heart slow as they froze my blood. My fingers numbed. Yet I fought to find the end of Analee’s scar. My knees slammed into the sand the moment Analee demanded I bow to her, but I’d brought her down with me. She fell to her side. I scratched at her back, pulling away her shirt so I could claw at the scar that extended down her back. Her slave girls climbed over me. Analee’s howls echoed off the barren cliffs.
I saw Analee’s past when my smallest finger trickled over her tiny scar that lingered down her back from her neck. The unseeing past – the memories buried deep – were woven in her thread of life. The scar. I just needed time to sort through the memories woven within it, to view them, to change and manipulate them so she’d obey me; I hated the wretched goddess. I could modify her mind-set, alter her memories, and redirect her fate once I was stronger. I needed to become stronger, so I could destroy her and take back what was mine.
I scratched at her scar, digging my nails into it. The thread of her life should look as damaged as her soul. Analee’s grip was on my throat, but I didn’t care. I found the end of her life’s thread; I don’t know how I knew where to search – I just did. A flashed welcomed the start of a vision.
Whiteness transcended everything as far as I could see. Winter’s chill stole my warmth. I heard no warning of the little witch who stalked me; I just felt her signature weapon prick my neck. I slapped my hand over the wound, thankful she missed my thread of life. I spun around, ready to strike back. She was nowhere to be seen. But she left a memento – a pair of jagged scissors. Crimson liquid drizzled off the cold, metal weapon and onto the flakes of snow. As soon as my blood trickled onto the snow, it turned black.
“They seek revenge, not death,” I acknowledged the Cutter’s warning.
One slave girl jerked my hair backwards. The other dug her ice cold fingernails into my eyes, keeping Analee’s memory at bay.
I welcomed unconsciousness.
I woke to the sound of Jace’s voice as he sung a melody I barely remembered. The intense pressure and icy pang from the fight subsided when Jace kissed my eyelids, awaking me wholly. His kiss was the softest, smoothest feeling I dared to imagine. I rubbed my arms; no wounds. My eyes didn’t sting, and I could see like my usual self – but I wasn’t. I felt different – not all powerful, but lost and scared. Just how many people would kill me without a second thought?
Jace continued to rock me in a rhythm that synced with the waves as they beat against the shoreline. I could lie in his arms forever listening to his deep, alluring voice.
“You remember,” Jace said, brushing my hair back. “When you touched dirt-crawler, as Marco would phrase it, you saw me – you recognized me. You remembered what I did to you. You know that I drove a knife through your –”
“The song you sing reminds me of a life I don’t remember,” I interrupted, refusing to think about the two different groups – enemies–hunting me for centuries, but that Jace had given me my final blow. Jace killed me – Deino – because of his love.
“But you remember me,” he insisted. “You are thinking too hard about it, Gwyneth. Just accept it as the truth.”
I looked anywhere but his brilliant white silhouette. There wasn’t a soul in sight. A tear escaped my eye. “I don’t remember the life you do. I only have snapshots of who I was. I’m not her anymore. I’m not the person you fell in love with.”
I clenched my eyes shut, hoping to gain control over myself again. I pressed my palms into my eyes, not wanting to see him even with my eyes closed. Jace told me that I had no reason to be ashamed of any tear I shed. Holding me, he encouraged me to embrace the hurt of being separated from a lost love and all that I’d forgotten. He never tried to rescue me. The pain was mine to experience – I needed to feel it, instead of hiding from it.
“Sorrow amplifies bliss,” he whispered, and gently placed his hands over mine. When my tears slowed, he spoke. “You may not recall every moment we shared, but you remember my voice.”
“I’m obsessed with your voice. That doesn’t mean I remember, Jace,” I said, trying to hold my ground.
He said nothing for so long, the world around us came back into my reality. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach, the smell of salt, the warm breeze on my skin comforted me. I imagined the burst of orange, red, and yellow as they lit the sky the night I died so many years ago. The sound of birds sang to us as he held me. Slowly he started rocking me to the rhythm of the bird’s song, of his song. I turned his hand over in mine. I couldn’t feel it, but knew it had to be there – the scar that started at his thumb and wrapped up his arm. When I traced over his wrist where it should have been, I felt his spirits rise.
“You sense the thread of my life, don’t you?” Jace said. “You sensed Analee’s, too, which is why you tried to rip it from her neck. You wanted her to die by severing it like the Cutter would.”
“I don’t want her to die. I want her to suffer,” I muttered, as I traced his skin. The Chronicler used their threads of life to manipulate their fate, but I couldn’t recall how. “What happened to her?”
“Suffering…but recovering,” Jace said and left it at that.
Instead of pressing the issue, I focused on us. He needed to live in the present, not the past. I didn’t like that he was encouraged. I needed him to forget about the person he once loved, not try to save her. I didn’t remember being here – not really. Glimpses didn’t mean I remembered out past; we needed a fresh start.
“You used to say that I hide golden slivers in my hair,” he said and brought my hand up to his hair. “You said that it flickered in the sunlight when you looked at me.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. It was like silk in my hands. I loved it, but didn’t remember it. I told him so. I told him over and over I didn’t remember her as I ran my hands through his locks. His pulse jumped with mine when I tugged gently on his hair. He liked it – so did I – but not because I remembered it. I enjoyed his reaction.
“My eyes,” he said just above a moan. “Even in this life, you remember what they look like.”
“Only because of a few quick glimpses I get with my visions.”
“They’re memories, dearest, not visions.”
I let my hand fall so I could trace the scar under his eye. I wondered why he never healed it, why he allowed his perfect body to be damaged. His hot breath hit my skin, and I forgot how to breathe. His hand slid behind my neck.
“You remember the way I feel next to you,” he said, as he slid one hand down my side. His fingers touched the small of my back while his thumb gripped my hip. Not trusting my voice, I shook my head. He grasped my side. “Liar.”
I gasped and grabbed his hand. He used my own fingers against me. Tracing them down my side, he brought my hand down until I touched his leg. He guided my hand up his leg. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe, but it wasn’t because I was holding my breath. He led my hands up his side, onto his stomach. As soon as my fingers drifted over his skin, he let go of my hand, encouraging me to explore. As my hand passed over his hard stomach, he cupped my face. Tracing my fingers lightly up the side of his torso, I got him to groan so deeply, that it shook every particle in my body.
“You find the only place I’m ticklish. You used to spend hours trying to get a reaction out of me, only because I adamantly insisted that I didn’t have a funny bone.”
“But I don’t remember doing it,” I said.
“Your fingers do.”
He repositioned himself and lowered me onto the sand. He gazed down at me, and my skin prickled. A breathtaking, colorless fire that started from his knees sent flames off his shoulders. I wanted to see it in color, but watching the air reacting to his heat was enticing
all in itself.
“Breathe, Gwyneth,” he moaned, struggling to take a breath.
I took a quick breath as he let himself fall down onto me. His hands gripped the sand on both sides of my face. Heat radiated from his body. It promised that I’d get burned, but would love it. I reached back and grabbed each one of his wrists, and I found the beginning of his scar with my pinky finger.
A scarlet petal fell from the sky like a feather. It drifted back and forth. Jace stood behind me. He blew it lightly, making it twirl in the air. One after another, petals rained around me. I laughed, loving the shower.
“Close your eyes,” Jace whispered.
I obeyed and waited eagerly. Using a single petal, he caressed my lips with it. It felt as smooth as Jace’s lips on my hand.
“You have a beautiful spirit,” he said.
“You put the flower in my shoes, didn’t you?” I said, recalling the definition Martha gave for the flower.
He chuckled. He lowered himself onto me just enough for his knees to touch mine. “Larkspur – you still have a beautiful spirit. I wanted you to see it.”
“My point. I can’t see. My eyes don’t work.” I released my grip to reach up for his hair. I pulled it down, forcing our hips together. “Or did you forget about that?”
“I can heal those, dearest. Just give me time, and I’ll give you back the Elysian I took from you,” he said and reached back around to grab my hand.
His lips replaced the rose petal. He didn’t so much kiss me as tease me with the possibility of it. He spun me around in his arms. I opened my eyes to him releasing more petals over my head.
His hands were calloused, showing the signs of a rough life. A faint silver scar trailed up the thumb and up his lean, muscular arm until hiding underneath his short sleeved olive shirt.
“Forget about her,” I said as I fought his grip on me. “I don’t remember being her!”
“Quit lying to yourself. I know you’re dying to remember,” Jace said, and pressed his forehead against mine. My rapid breath forced my chest into his. I wanted him – needed him. I was scared. I wiggled my hand from his; he tightened his grip, and the fire crawled over his skin.
I reached up and took his hand in mine. My smallest finger brushed over the scar, and it began to move like it was being blown off his skin. After separating itself, the scar danced in the wind as if it were a piece of thread. Jace sang softly in our dialect, as he spun me in his arms. He pressed his chin gently against my head. The scar wrapped around us as we danced. I closed my eyes as he lifted my chin. His silk lips found mine.
“Forget her,” I whispered, but all my resistance was gone.
The image of a man’s full, perfect lips bombarded my mind. I craved him, addicted to his touch. Everywhere his hand caressed me, my body ignited in a fiery passion I didn’t want escape. I leaned into him, begging for a kiss that would never come.
“Only you,” he promised.
He was gorgeous, authoritative, and devoted. A moan grew in his chest when I thought about what I cherished about him. He clutched my hand like it was a lifeline. His hot breath hit my lips. My lungs scorched with his adoration. His other hand slid behind my neck and then his lips brushed mine. He held me there, only a moment, with our lips skimming the other.
“Death will come for me,” I said more seriously. “You must carry the Elysian in my blood so both races survive my death. Without it, I fear chaos will destroy their fate. Besides, the others will need someone to follow in my absence.”
“I’m a gladiator and a Healer,” he said. “I’m not a ruler.”
“Let your heart rule. If you can’t find your way, trust your instincts,” I said and then smirked. “It’s better than any compass. It brought me to you.”
“Our destinies have always been intertwined,” he said, pulling slightly away from me. He released his grip on my hand. “I promised to heal you – return the very essence of your soul. Centuries have come and gone while I searched for you. I want nothing more than to fulfill that promise, when the time is right.”
I reached up to him. He turned his face into my hand. A tear trickled down my finger; it wasn’t mine. His warm lips pressed into mine; his tongue tickled mine; his lips tasted like an angel’s kiss. His hands sifted through my hair, and his lips were on mine again. His pulse rose. His breathing became erratic as he tried to hold me gently but never let go of me. His fingertips numbed me as they caressed my skin.
That I knew exactly what he was physically experiencing only made me want him more. That I could affect someone like him this way, that someone would want me this much, was an impossibility that came true. I pulled at his hair, keeping him close as his tongue rolled over mine.
I needed to stop hiding from him. He had suffered, too. Our past had meant enough for him to spend centuries searching for me. I couldn’t imagine killing anyone in the name of love. My voice rose just above a whisper, “Help me remember, Jace.”
“I’ll do everything in my power, my beloved.” Jace said it like it meant more than just a promise; it was a vow.
We missed the sunrise as our passion consumed us. I never wanted to forget the taste of his kiss. Flashes of his memories flooded my mind whenever our scars brushed each other. I wasn’t Deino anymore, but her memories would serve me; I needed them to survive. I needed Jace, not only because he lit my heart on fire, but because without him, I’d be lost.
“Kiss her much longer, and she’ll become an Addict,” Marco said. “She’s still human.”
Jace broke our kiss. Groaning, he pulled away. I didn’t want to stop either. He pushed off the sand and held himself in a push-up position above me.
“So back to the original plan – heal her, find her sisters, and save us from an eternal visit to Hades?” Marco asked.
Jace pushed himself up but hesitated to look away from me. His devotion burned, not just for me, but to find the one who was hell bent on killing me for a wish. Jace wanted the Butcher’s death, and he wanted to be the one to kill him. I felt it burning in my soul just like it was evident as the fire dancing over his skin. “Gwyneth has to give me permission to heal her,” Jace said.
Marco scoffed, “You really believe Analee will buy that?”
“Analee can shove it,” I said, and smiled vindictively as Jace helped me up. We walked up to Marco and braced myself for the shift. “Why do you plot against Analee if you used to be together?”
“Used to be,” Marco clarified. “She kicked me to the curb, just like you predicted.”
“Does Analee know that you were the one who asked for the ability to speak soundlessly?” I asked.
His head twitched. “Do you think I’d still be alive if she did?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I woke to Elsie’s screams. A woman slammed her hand over my mouth before I could call out for help. She drug me off my bed. Jace’s phone slipped through my fingers. My pulse leaped.
“You can use your pretty, wordless talent to warn the others, and we’ll leave but with a promise to hunt down every person you’ve ever loved and kill them if you do,” the woman threatened.
She pushed me into the hallway. Her dark shadow was more lit, but wasn’t as bright as the other deities. Gripping the railing, I swung my weight to the side and shoved my knee into her side. She cursed. She grabbed my arm and twisted my elbow until it snapped. I dropped to my knees. Shooting pangs radiated down my arm. I screamed. I grabbed my arm and kicked myself away from her. She was not having any of it; she grabbed my hair and dragged me down the few remaining stairs. The bones in my arm grounded into each other, but I couldn’t do anything but squirm. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My vision blurred. My stomach flipped.
She kicked my back until I stopped squirming. My entire body straightened, the moment her heel met my spine. When she got bored creating a collage of black and blue marks on my back, she yanked my hair and forced me upright onto my knees. I sobbed. My stomach turned. I thought I might vomit. She jerked my head toward
the kitchen. John and Martha were either dead or knocked out cold on the floor.
Elsie was kicking and screaming. Her feet were pressed against the stairwell, refusing to be brought downstairs. She managed to bite her captor. A man swore and let go. Elsie bolted down the stairs. He hobbled down after her. His limp reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t recall who – my consciousness had already started to fade. The man tackled her, knocking a flower vase in the process. The vase smashed onto the living room floor, thus shattering the container.
“I caught this spirited little thing trying to leap from the Chronicler’s window,” he said. His voice sounded familiar, like I’d heard it from somewhere, but the pounding in my head refused to let me concentrate enough to figure it out.
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