“Okay. But you still haven’t told me what history this is for?”
It wasn’t his imagination that she wouldn’t look him in the eyes suddenly. Grace was many things—a coward wasn’t one of them. She was keeping something from him.
“I reckon the only answer I can give to that is that it’s not my secret to share. Flint needs time, and no doubt she’ll be the one wishing to speak with you about this. Eventually. When it is time, the book will provide many answers.”
Pursing her lips, she turned on her heel. “I’m going to find Adam, talk to Rhiannon, and then I’m off to bed. If you’d like, I can let him know that you wish to see him as well.”
Setting the deceptively heavy book down on the desk, Cain walked around her to open the door. “He knows he’s supposed to meet me.”
“Okay then. Goodnight, berserker.”
She was halfway down the steps and he was ready to shut the door when she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Hurt her, Cain, and I’ll cut your balls off.”
If any other octogenarian had made that statement, he would have laughed. But not with Grace. Never with Grace.
36
Flint
Grace had told her life would have to continue on as it’d been for the time being. Which meant going back to school tomorrow. To pretending that everything was perfect with her world again, when in fact it was anything but.
Flint worried about not just Abel, but now Janet. For Cain. For Adam. For everyone who’d been caught up in this deception. She wanted to see her friends but didn’t know what to do once she did. She had no way to help them find Abel. She’d be useless in the extreme.
Everything was so wrong, and she was starting to shake from the enormity of what’d happened. Of all the terrible things that had been caused by Layla’s deception. All of it was now beginning to crash down around her.
Dad didn’t talk the whole drive home. Katy sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the side window as a sleeting rain fell.
When they got back to their apartment, Flint was stunned to see a home with barely any furniture in it anymore.
Her father came up behind her, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and murmured, “Tomorrow you’re moving into a trailer at the carnival. Your grandmother thought it would be safer that way.”
Then he was gone and all she could do was cry.
Lightning flashed. The sky looked as though it were about to be ripped apart by the hands of God. The ground shook and the wind screamed its rage.
A man of taller than average height stood like a bulwark upon the green slope of an emerald-dusted hillside. In his hand he carried a silver blade, gripping a hilt that was unlike any she’d ever seen before.
The hilt had silver wings that spread out on either side of his palm, and at its center was a helmet with eyes that glowed blue flame.
Rain soaked the grounds, pouring like water from the burst dam of the heavens. Locks of strawberry-blond hair fell like a curtain in front of his face, partially obscuring him so that Flint could only make out snatches, bits and pieces that were hard to decipher into something she’d actually be able to remember upon waking. The only thing she knew with any amount of certainty was that he had a long, jagged scar that trailed down from the corner of his left eye to his cheekbone.
He stood tall and proud upon that hill, dressed in nothing but buff-colored animal furs and skins. His amber eyes were hot and unyielding as they gazed upon the quivering, cloaked bundle kneeling before him.
Even knowing this to be a dream, Flint’s heart pounded violently when she watched the behemoth lift his blade and bring it down with unerring accuracy. Thunder clapped and Flint screamed.
Waking up an instant later, she clutched her sleep shirt, her brain taking a moment to realize she was now awake and not watching a head roll down a hill. Kicking off the sheets, she shook her head, trying to clear away the cobwebs of that dream.
It’d felt so real. The smell of ozone. The stench of blood. The loud thwack of steel cutting through bone. And the feel of rain lashing against her soaked body.
Rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand, she was about to get up and go to the bathroom when the sight of a sword lying in her bed stopped her cold.
With a muffled little shriek of sound, she tossed the pillow to the floor and stared with eyes gone wide at the exact same sword she’d just seen in her dream.
Jumping out of the bed, she couldn’t stop looking at the sword.
Why in the world was that lying in her bed? The very one that’d just been in her dream? Mind reeling from what it could possibly mean, she hastily picked up her cell phone and called Cain.
He picked up on the third ring.
“Flint?” he asked with a worried note. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
Shaking her head, she continued to stare at the sword as though it were a snake coiled up, ready to bite her. “I’m fine. But um, you wouldn’t happen to know if Grace is around, would you?”
“I saw her at breakfast.”
She could hear the frown in his voice. “Is something up? Do you need me to come over?”
She smiled. As much as she’d love for that to happen, dinner last night with her dad and Katy had been less than comfortable. No one had seemed to know what to say to one another, the conversation—stilted as it’d been—had quickly devolved into thick silence. Asking Cain to come here this morning was probably not the best idea.
“No. I’m good. I just wanted to ask her a question.” She nibbled on the corner of her lip, giving her bed some serious side-eye.
“Maybe I can help?”
She was about to tell him never mind, that she’d see him later, but she really honestly didn’t have a clue what to do here.
“I dunno. Maybe. So I went to sleep and this morning I woke up dreaming about a man holding his sword—”
“Flint, that sounds really dirty.”
Her lips twitched at her innocent double entendre. “You’re disgusting. I literally mean a sword, you pig.”
He laughed.
“Anyway, he cut someone’s head off, and now it’s in my bed.”
“The head?” he asked with obvious confusion.
“No,” she growled. “The sword. The sword is in my bed. I don’t know what’s going on here, and I’m afraid that—”
“Okay, first of all, princess, relax and breathe.”
She took a shuddery breath, aware that she’d let her panic peek out a little too much.
“You breathing?”
She nodded forcefully. “Yeah. I’m breathing.”
“Good.”
Flint wanted nothing more in that moment than to reach through the line and hug him. Just hearing the deep, even rumble of his voice made her feel ten times less frantic than before.
“Bring that with you when you come to the carnival later—”
Which wouldn’t be for several hours yet since she had to go back to school today. She couldn’t wait to graduate already.
“—meanwhile I’ll go see if I can find Grace and ask her what’s going on, okay?”
“Okay.” She said it softly, cradling the phone with both hands and rubbing her cheek against the receiver as though it were him and not some cold piece of soulless machinery.
Her heart squeezed at the thought of anything being soulless.
“Cain?”
“Princess?”
His deep bass voice wormed hotly through her stomach, and she inhaled deeply even as her throat squeezed tight.
There were so many things she wanted to say to him. To ask him. But none of them made it out. Instead all she could say was, “I’ll see you later?”
It’d definitely sounded more like a question than a statement.
He made a growly rumble in the back of his throat that spread like warm butter through her bones and made her toes tingle.
“I’ll be waiting.”
When they hung up, she held tight to the phone for several long seconds, only setting it d
own because the call of nature was too loud to ignore anymore. Once she’d done her thing, she yanked off all her clothes, turned on the shower, and was just about to step inside when she caught sight of something moving on her arm.
But when she went to flick it off, she was horrified to discover that what she’d thought was just a piece of black fuzz was actually a vine-shaped tattoo twisting from her elbow up her bicep.
Clutching the bathroom sink for support as the room suddenly decided to spin on her, she counted slowly to ten in her head, then turned on the faucet and slapped cold water onto her face.
Staring at herself in the mirror, she watched as the water ran like tears down her cheeks.
“You will not freak out, Flint DeLuca. You knew this would happen. You will not freak out.”
But it was a little hard not to freak out. She’d gone to bed a clean canvas and woken up with a thorny vine that actually looked like it was swaying and twitching like a sapling in a strong breeze.
Blowing out several deep, forceful breaths, she gave herself a final stern warning, then turned and headed for the shower. She had to get ready for school, and if the only change her fae bloodline would force on her was a tattoo, then she was getting off easy.
The bar of soap slipped through her hands twice before she got done with her shower. Back in her room less than ten minutes later, she headed for her closet to look for something to wear.
The nerves eating away at her gut made her want to tell her dad that she suddenly didn’t feel so well.
But considering she’d just woken up from a weeklong “death,” that was probably the last thing he needed to hear right now. Just the sound of the word “sick” would send him into a panic.
Katy had spent the night.
Flint wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Tossing yet another pink cami over her shoulder to the floor, she stared at a closet full of clothes she knew she’d never bought. The stuff was hideously pink, which let her know her dad had probably made a last-minute run for stuff since she’d never be caught dead in an ankle-length dress with frills and a slip.
Nibbling on the corner of her lip, she rolled her left foot and stared at more clothes than she could possibly need and none that she actually wanted. Most of it was sleeveless too, which once upon a time she would have liked, but thanks to the stupid tattoo and all the questions that would come from it, she wanted to hide her arms as much as possible.
“Where’re all my old clothes?” she groused, growing crankier by the minute.
“Knock knock.” A feminine voice followed a gentle knock on her door.
Flint closed her eyes as Katy’s lemony scent of dish soap and floor cleaner followed in her wake. Shoulders tense, she hiked the bath towel tighter around her still-damp body and shoved a wet strand of hair behind her ear.
“Flint, we haven’t had a chance to talk yet.” Katy’s words were even but firm as she slowly closed the bedroom door behind her.
Realizing the woman had no intention of leaving until she spoke her piece, Flint reluctantly turned and leaned against the wall as Katy took a seat on the corner of her bed.
This overnight stuff didn’t seem like such a casual thing. Not like she would have once hoped. Flint had been shocked to note several personal feminine items in her father’s bedroom last night.
She hadn’t meant to go rummaging through her dad’s bathroom, but she’d run out of TP, and once she’d opened the cabinet beneath the sink it was like she’d become possessed. There’d been two bags. One black. One red. The black one had been full of hygiene products. Toothpaste, brushes, makeup, deodorant, that sort of thing. The red bag had been full of clothes. But neither of those things had freaked her out as much as finding an unopened box of tampons.
Opened, sure, maybe Katy was going through her thing now. But unopened, that implied future need.
Katy’s green eyes studied Flint’s face thoughtfully, as if waiting on some unspoken cue from her.
What was she supposed to say here?
I see you wearing a nightgown in my home at five in the morning on a Tuesday. Why? By the way, the house looks totally clean. Thanks. I think.
“Why do you have tampons in my dad’s bathroom?”
Katy’s lips parted just slightly.
That probably wasn’t the best icebreaker, but she hadn’t invited Katy in. So…
Lashes fluttering, Katy gave a nervous chuckle. “Okay. I guess I thought you’d want to talk about what happened, but if that’s bothering you right now, then you should know—”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she held up a hand and sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I’m pretty sure I know why they’re here. To be honest, Katy, I’m totally freaking out.”
Lips stretching into an understanding but grim smile, she nodded. “About what, hon?”
Blowing out a heavy breath, Flint tried to find words that wouldn’t devolve into a fight down the line. She was angry. Though she wasn’t one hundred percent sure why. She was raw. But again, not really sure why. It was a bad idea to have a conversation right now, and like a chump, she’d never really known when to shut it.
“About everything. About what I’m going to wear to school. About how far behind in classes I’m gonna be. And… and…” Her voice trembled as a tear rolled out of her eye.
“Is that it?” Katy asked gently. “You sure there’s not more?”
More. Of course there was more. Abel was still missing. Her grandmother had told her she was some soulless creature. The school had been blown to smithereens, which meant today she’d be forced to go to a new school in a new district, forced to meet new people…
But she wasn’t going to spiral again.
When Mom died, Flint had thought she’d died with her. For months she’d been a robot who got up, went to school, came home, and locked herself away in her room. Then one day she’d taken a look at her drunk father and realized that if she let herself waste away, eventually she’d be no different than him.
If there was one good thing her mom’s death had taught her, it was that if Flint could survive that, she could survive anything.
Plastering on a bright smile, she shrugged. “Nope. I’m fine.”
“Flint, you don’t have to pretend with me. It’s really okay to not be okay. This is a lot and—”
More than fed up with this conversation, she gave Katy a tight smile. “Look, I can appreciate the fact that you and Dad care. I get that. But I’m telling you I’m fine. And I will be fine. I don’t exactly want to be the new kid all over again, but I’ll get over it.”
Another knock sounded at her door. “Flint? Katy?” her dad called.
“Yeah?” Flint asked.
“Breakfast is ready. Grace told me you’d need a good one, so come on before we have to head out for school.”
Flint still couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just take the bus, but her father was determined.
With a reluctant-sounding sigh, Katy stood and made for the door. “I just hope you know”—she paused with her hand on the knob—“that you can trust me.”
“Trust you? Why didn’t you ever tell me who you really were? I thought you were the queen. Did you know Layla was the queen that day her guard bit me?” She crossed her arms, feeling an irrational surge of anger as she recalled the day Katy had slyly tried to pull Flint aside when she’d been alone in the trailer with her.
“No.” She shook her head quickly. “I didn’t. But I suspected strongly the queen moved inside the circus. If I’d known, I would have knocked you out to get you out of there.”
The way she said the words, with a heated vehemence, Flint actually believed her.
“But you knew about my grandmother, you knew about me, didn’t you?”
Katy twisted her lips. “Not you. Not that you were special. Grace kept that secret close to the vest. And all things considered, she was smart to do so. As to Grace being your grandmother, of course I knew.”
; Just then, Katy’s eyes darted downward to the tattoo now on Flint’s arm. There was no word of warning, no sound to betray her. Suddenly Katy was digging her fingers into Flint’s bicep, her green eyes blazing with intensity.
“You’re marked.”
Feeling naked, and not just because all she wore was a towel, Flint jerked out of Katy’s grip, rubbing her now-tender arm and frowning.
Katy’s eyes still hadn’t budged an inch, and her fingers were flexing as though she wanted to reach out and grab her again.
Taking another step back, Flint shook her head. “So what?”
Finally, Katy looked up at her. “You’re fae.”
She said it as though she hadn’t known, but she had, which totally confused Flint. “Yeah? And? You already knew that.”
A visible shudder tore down Katy’s spine as she leaned heavily against the bedroom door. Her breathing had kicked up in intensity too.
It was kind of starting to weird her out a little.
“Katy, you should go. I have school and—”
Katy’s green eyes were hard, cold, and unyielding, and Flint felt suddenly overwhelmed and sick to her stomach.
“I don’t know what Grace has told you concerning the fae. Fact is, her allegiances have been divided thanks to this fiasco—”
Flint’s nostrils flared. She might not know her grandmother as well as she’d like, but she resented Katy’s implication. “What are you talking about?” she snapped.
“Fae don’t bond, Flint. It’s just a fact.”
She could no longer feel her fingertips, and her ears were ringing. This couldn’t be true. If it were, Grace would have told her. There was no way this was true. “Why would you say that to me? I do bond. I have bonded—”
Katy waved a dismissive hand. “History always proves itself. Over and over again. What happened to your grandmother wasn’t a one-time deal—it’s happened to many women in many different ages. I may not know much about the fae, but I do know that you’d have to be a heartless creature to do that to someone. And considering fae are soulless, it really shouldn’t come as a shock.”
Up until this point, Katy hadn’t been her favorite person in the world, but she’d never been nasty either. And this… this was totally nasty.
The Complete Tempted Series Page 38