She stiffened as Jeremy’s hold around her tightened and suddenly something cold and sharp constricted against her palms, between her fingers and down the backs of her hands, around her forearms. Kayla slumped in his arms, a bitter pain numbing her flesh and stealing her breath. “What…did you…do?” she gasped.
“Just like you said, Kayla. I did what I wanted to. You know what that’s like, don’t you?” Jeremy’s voice was harsh and labored. She knew the words were his, but they felt foreign.
Every part of her clenched tightly, and even the tears that welled up inside couldn’t reach her eyes. She could feel her two Intercessors beneath whatever Jeremy had clamped on her hands, but instead of the slick, clean sensation she usually experienced, they felt barbed and brittle, and thick with poison. “You’re…killing…me.”
“That was another option you gave me, remember? Right after ‘taking you back to Za’in.’ How about we try all of the above?” Jeremy stood, yanking her up by the arm. He pulled her over to the truck, stopping to steady himself along the door, coughing and closing his eyes as if against a dizzy spell.
Kayla felt herself being lifted into the passenger seat, and then she sat slouched, her head lolling back. She watched Jeremy walk back over to the banyan, pulling his keys out of his pocket before he bent down to gather his belongings, but she wondered why he froze, halfway stooped to the ground.
She heard a voice that wasn’t Jeremy’s. “You’re going to wish you were still beneath that tower, boy.” Her vision was failing her, but she was certain it was Asher who spoke.
19
Jeremy’s face was lost somewhere in the shadows that gathered beneath his unruly hair, but his smile cut through the shroud, glinting sharply. “I’m thinking…if you wanted to kill me, you wouldn’t have given me any warning. You want to fight. Okay. Then let’s fight.” He began to straighten up when Asher’s boot slammed into his head, knocking him into the dirt.
Asher pressed his foot against the side of Jeremy’s neck as he looked back towards Kayla. She was slumped in the passenger seat, semi-conscious, while Bruno struggled with the door, attempting to lift her. “No, I gave you warning for her sake. But now you’re only alive until I find out what you’ve done to her.”
“I only did what you’ve been wanting to,” he laughed out of the corner of his mouth.
Asher dug his knee into Jeremy’s back and pulled his head up by the hair, a kukri to his enemy’s throat. “What did you put on her hands?” he growled quietly.
“Oh, that? That just makes her easier to handle. Don’t worry — I only cuffed her afterwards. It’s been my experience, if I let the girl fight a little, it’s better for both of us.” Jeremy chose his moment carefully, sliding out of Asher’s grip at the exact instant his hold was loosened by a tiny shudder of rage. Jeremy wrenched Asher’s arm on the way out of his grasp, causing him to drop his blade. Asher pressed forward, slicing down with his other kukri, but Jeremy dodged, bent over and stumbling on his hands, but soon he righted himself and ran to the truck. His grin dropped when the vehicle didn’t react to the key in the ignition. He turned the key again, panicked, before he was forced to give up on it, only dodging Asher’s next blow at the last moment. He found his weapon beside him and yanked it from its sheath as he jumped into the backseat.
Jeremy turned his head wildly, unable to find his enemy. He felt the back of the truck bounce before a stabbing pain in his right arm caused him to drop his sword, and a sharp pressure against his throat prevented him from reaching for it.
Asher’s voice was still low. “Remove those bones from her hands.”
“Just kill him! Look what he did to Miss Kayla! We can get these things off ourselves!” Kerif screamed. Kayla lay on her side, half in Bruno’s arms, as Kerif frantically tried to pry the bones away from her hands with some small tools.
“No, we can’t. Only the one who put these on can remove them.” Kittie spoke quietly, standing barefoot beside the trio on the ground. Her face was pinched as she watched Jeremy caught helplessly in Asher’s deadly grasp.
“You’d know that, wouldn’t you, Kit? Look around. Has everything gone according to your divine plan?” Fury choked his voice to almost a whisper.
“And you didn’t know, did you?” Kittie stepped closer, stopping beside the truck’s door and staring up at him. “You didn’t know what would happen if you used these on her. And you did it anyways.”
“Yeah. And I don’t know how to take them off.” Jeremy couldn’t turn his head away from her, so he just lowered his eyes.
Asher yanked him down off the truck, pulling him through the dirt towards Kayla. “You’re going to figure it out, right now.”
Jeremy struggled violently against him, his resistance causing him to superficially cut his throat. “I don’t fucking know how, okay?” he snarled.
Asher fought to keep him under control. “God damn it, stop! Do you want to die?”
He was suddenly limp and still, a short laugh falling dryly from his mouth. “This guy doesn’t miss much, does he, Kit? Real sharp. I see why you threw in with him.” A sarcastic grin twisted his face, but his voice was quiet. “But if I just fell forward, would that ruin your plans?”
“Stop. It’s disgusting.” Kittie’s voice was cold and resonant. Jeremy looked up suddenly, unnerved by the change in her tone. “I was prepared to throw myself at your feet if I found you again, to apologize for the sudden nature of that night…” She shook her head violently, her own voice breaking through. “You want revenge? I’ll face you, Jeremy. But just look at her! You won’t, will you? Because if you do, you’ll have to face the fact that you were only able to hurt her this way because she loves you—”
“Shut up!” He thrashed wildly as Asher drove him to his knees, facing Kayla.
Kittie dropped down beside him, her breath hot on his ear. “She doesn’t deserve this. And you don’t deserve what you’re doing to yourself. This isn’t some kind of punishment you have to endure to pay for your feelings.”
Jeremy was suddenly calm. “Listen. I’m not the person you think I am. And I don’t pretend to understand you. But this makes sense: there’s a knife to my throat. And we both know that’s how things get done.” He reached for Kayla’s hand, and pried back her cold, stiff fingers. He studied the bones attached to her palm and he trailed the dark mark that deepened in the center, growing lighter as it spread out down her arm. He wedged his fingers between the rough protrusions and her flesh, pulling outwards, but he couldn’t break the seal. Jeremy brought her hands closer so that he could examine them both with his head bowed, keeping his face from the scrutiny of those crowded around him. He listened to Kayla’s labored breathing, but he refused to turn and see her face, staring harder at the blackened tangle of bones that choked her limbs.
He didn’t know what to do. This strategy was supposed to be simple and the details were never decided. It wasn’t a surprise that things turned out this way. Whatever the conclusion, it’s all the same. He ran his fingers over hers. This wasn’t what he wanted, but his desires were unrealistic and sentimental. In the end, the world moves according to its nature, regardless of your agenda. There was no such thing as destiny, and it was useless to make plans. All you can do is make it to the next moment, and sometimes, just hold off death. He squeezed her hands, his fingers intertwined with hers, their palms pressed towards each other through the layer of bone.
When Jeremy felt an icy spine puncture the inside of his hand, he held down a shudder. He didn’t know what was happening; he only knew he just had to take it. He set his jaw tightly as he felt the bones lifting off Kayla’s hands and clamping down around his. Each point of contact was experienced as a tiny, but penetrating, sting. His limbs felt cold and constrained, but he couldn’t ignore the pulsating rush that pushed upwards towards his temples. He raised his head, meeting Kayla’s gaze with his sharpening vision. Although she was obviously weakened by these fetters, her tired eyes were clear. There was no threat of tears as
she studied his features, carefully, as if she was trying to catalogue every detail of something she would never see again. Her mouth opened slightly, but closed again with an almost imperceptible frown as she accepted the small regret of being too drained to speak.
Jeremy threw back his head and closed his eyes. His chest throbbed, his head swimming and arms tingling. He had never felt this way before. He couldn’t tell if he was going to die or shoot straight up into the heavens. He closed one hand around Asher’s blade, while scraping his other forearm down his captor’s arm. The bony spurs tore Asher’s flesh, and with a savage growl he was forced to let go of his prisoner. Jeremy ran to the truck and grabbed his sword, then turned around for a moment. A fleeting realization sent him lurching back abruptly — for an instant there was nothing else steering his body but the thought of scooping Kayla into his arms and running into the ruins with her. But like everything else, that desire passed too, and as always, he was immediately gripped by another compulsion.
He stretched out his arms, slowly adjusting his grip on his weapon, feeling the bones caught between his hands and the hilt. Every long, tense movement of his fingers sent sharp paths upwards, searing his limbs. He repeated each action, a strange attachment to the pain keeping him in a loop of motion and sensation. He stared down at the dark, twisted masses that coiled jaggedly up his arms, his own flesh only escaping at the fingertips and up from the elbows. “I know you’re curious. We both want to see what happens next, right?” Jeremy’s eyes were closed against a momentary wooziness that swayed him, but he knew Asher would understand he was being addressed.
“I already know the outcome. I won’t let you return to Za’in as a puppet that snatched some power from a wounded Angel. I end this now.” Asher spoke between clenched teeth as he held his bloodied arm.
Jeremy watched his enemy hovering protectively over Kayla. Her weary body was limp and motionless, but her eyes followed their exchange carefully. He felt the ache in his arms reflected in the cross on his chest. “The end… You can’t bring that, Serafin. That never comes.” A mangled smile twisted his features as he tore forward, his sword’s arc leading his movements.
Asher dropped low, pressuring Jeremy’s leg, and at the same time catching his weapon with his blade as they made contact. The splitting movement brought Jeremy to the ground and he let go of his weapon too easily, almost as a novel afterthought. He rolled around the tightening circle of momentum, flailing his arm towards Asher, his skeletal gauntlets slashing his adversary’s thigh. Asher let the force pull him down, his knee landing hard against the side of Jeremy’s neck. The former Arch coughed, spitting, and skid out from under Asher’s weight as that knee continued to slide to the earth. He righted himself, controlling Serafin’s movement by catching the gauntlets’ ridges in his flesh. Jeremy crossed his forearms against the other man’s throat, just one pulling movement away from a warm comfort drenching his frozen and constricted limbs.
He felt something cold against the base of his jaw just moments before he heard her tiny voice. “You won’t heal from this, I assure you. Get the fuck out of here, Jeremy.” He held his head still and strained his eyes towards the sound to see streams of water falling over a brown cheek.
“We never get to finish this. How many times will you all interfere? It doesn’t matter who wins…it just needs to end. Why can’t you let it happen, Kit?” He spoke evenly, already resigned to the incessant loop he was caught in.
Kittie’s voice was low and deliberate. “I won’t let you incidentally tear down the world just because you’re blind to anything beyond this moment.”
“I see. You prefer him, too.”
“For Christ’s sake!” She pressed her gun harder against him, struggling to bring her tone back down to that cold, even murmur. “I’ll do it.”
“Oh, I know.” He didn’t move.
Her voice softened a little. “You need to get those things off your arms. If you don’t, you’ll wish I blew your brains out here.”
“I know,” he said again quietly as he loosened his hold and began to withdraw.
Kittie kept her weapon trained on him. “Get your armor and go.”
“What are you doing? You can’t let him go. Shoot him!” Kerif yelled. The pirates were gathered around Kayla, frozen by fear of Jeremy as well as Asher’s standing commandment to stay out of their fights.
Kittie didn’t stir, silencing them with her quick reply. “Say that again and I’ll turn this on you.”
Jeremy moved sluggishly to collect his possessions, pausing for a moment to consider the truck. A little laugh pulled his head down as he walked out into the ruins. He looked back once, unable to deny the pleasure of watching Kittie hold that weapon with the intention of firing, even if he was the target. The burning cross on his chest drew him towards the horizon as he turned painfully away again.
Kittie waited until he was out of sight before flinging the gun into the darkness and dropping down hopelessly into the dirt.
20
Kayla just had to survive the length of this day. Then Asher’s commands would come and she would know the right path to walk. She sat slumped in the recliner, her forearms to the ceiling, her upturned palms hanging off the armrests. The cool air that circulated through the open windows soothed the raw wounds in her hands. Her eyes closed with the memory of pain. Kittie had cut shards of blackened bone from her limbs and thoroughly cleaned the punctures in her palms. Kayla tried half-heartedly to press her Intercessors outward, but they felt swollen and jammed. Kittie had told her that she would regain her abilities, but there was still a sluggish threat of panic below the surface; she didn’t realize until now how much these newly discovered aspects of her being truly completed her. She felt empty. No, clogged with filth.
She let her head drop. It was a thought she tried to keep hidden deep in her subconscious so that no one would be able to detect it…but perhaps this was almost worth it. For a moment, she had what she wanted, even in an imperfect world. Kayla let a shudder of pleasure move her, her inhalation catching in her throat. She held her breath as long as she could, as if the air held her memory. She thought of Jeremy’s face as she saw it just hours ago with her blurred vision. It wasn’t an unspoiled recollection, but she wanted to keep it, since it could be her last. She wouldn’t hope for a reunion. The only faith she could hold was that he was satisfied they were even, and if they met again, he would at least have the decency to walk away. With those parasitic bones, he had taken a part of her with him. She had recklessly endangered their cause, but she hoped taking this chance allowed her to pay for her sin against him. The lines had been drawn. Her weakness was exposed, and she had to bury it again. Kayla remembered the cross on his chest. Jeremy never belonged to her.
From the kitchen’s open door, she could hear Kittie softly talking to Asher as she tended to his wounds. Her shame drowned out all her earlier thoughts. He had carried her back to the yellow house, despite his injuries and the knowledge that their source was her carelessness and disobedience. Kayla’s body jerked; she had forgotten that it was too painful to attempt clenching her fists. She let a little sob escape before she realized she was stumbling across the wooden floor, skidding to her knees in the kitchen. Asher was stretched out on the dining table, and he stiffly sat up on his elbow to look down at her.
She averted her eyes. “You were right to want to hide me somewhere safe while you defeated Sebastian. I’ll go wherever you say. This is all my fault, and you don’t know how sorry I am.”
He breathed out a small laugh and slowly lowered himself back down onto the table. He didn’t speak.
Kayla’s fingers gingerly gripped the kitchen table and she pulled herself up to stand, wobbling. Asher lay there bare-chested, his pants cut up the sides to gain access to his injuries as Kittie deftly pulled gnarled, black shards out of his torn and bloody skin with some small tools. He looked up at her, and although his brow was knit with discomfort, his gaze was tranquil. “You haven’t already forgotten
the words I spoke in the banyan, have you?” he whispered.
She froze, caught somewhere between clutching at his hand and turning away. “No, of course not. I just—”
He closed his eyes in pain as Kittie extracted more shrapnel from his leg. “So we’re both a little worse for wear. But these trials give us certainty. I trust you’ll move forward.”
Kayla lowered her gaze. He couldn’t know everything that happened last night. Would he be so calm if he had full knowledge? “You said Za’in would use my feelings against me. I don’t know why, but I thought, hoped… Jere—” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry we disagreed yesterday. I was wrong. In the tower, I took steps toward my own freedom, foolishly believing he would follow my path, but my decision became a personal declaration of war in his eyes.” She looked down at her hands. “Now every choice we’ve made stands between us and…and I’ll stand with you…against him.”
Kittie abruptly left the room.
Asher gripped Kayla’s wrist and held her still as a choked cry caught thickly in her throat. “Don’t go after her. She won’t be able to really hear your words right now,” he said quietly.
Dominion of the Star (Descendants of the Fallen Book 1) Page 14