He cupped her face and ran his thumb over her cheek. “The one thing I regret is never kissing you good-bye.”
Red flags and screeching sirens went off in her mind. “Oh, Jay. No. You can’t—”
“Please.” The broken expression behind his eyes tore at her. “Just once, without worrying about anything or anyone. Like it used to be. Just this one time. For me.” His eyes softened with the arch of his brows. “I should have kissed you good-bye, and it kills me to know I didn’t. I should have told you before I left the orphanage, Zanya. And I’m sorry. I never should have left at all.”
Her throat ached, her heart racing.
His gaze flickered to her mouth. He lifted his head off the pillow and brought his lips closer to hers. Static and confusion scrambled her thoughts.
All she’d ever wanted was a normal life, with a normal boyfriend who drove a normal car. She wanted to do what regular high school graduates did. Apply to college. Worry about their grades. Live in a crammed dorm room, and stay up late for a party instead of studying for finals.
Now it was clear her life would never be normal. She would never have those things, and she would eventually have to embrace the fact that her future would always be unknown. No stability. No plan. No quaint wedding followed by a house with a picket fence and two kids. She would always live on the edge, and by accepting the responsibility of protecting the stone, she had also accepted her fate.
Jayden’s lips brushed against hers. His breath was cold. Everything was so cold.
She rested her hand on his forearm and let her fingers trace his tattoos.
He combed his fingers through her hair and squeezed her tighter.
This was a place she’d never thought she would be again—cradled in Jayden’s arms. Getting here had been a roller coaster of ups and downs, and now she may as well have been free-falling.
The ache in her chest flared when her thoughts snapped back to Arwan.
She broke their kiss and scrambled off the bed.
“Zanya.” Jayden sat up and watched her slip her shirt back on.
“That shouldn’t have happened.” Jay didn’t respond. She straightened her clothes and walked to the door.
When she paused and looked over her shoulder, his eyes pleaded with her to stay.
“I think it’s better if Peter does your healing from now on.” She did her best to ignore the softness of his gaze that always drew her to him. He looked at everyone the same way—like cold steel—except when he looked at her. He saw her, and that was what had caught her heart.
Zanya opened the door and stepped into the hall. “We can’t be together like this. Not the way you want to.” The cool of his lips lingered over hers. “That can never happen again.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Arwan
Arwan burst out of Contessa’s front door into the dreary street. Sweat collected on his brow, his body shaking.
He stumbled forward and grabbed his bag from the ground. It weighed a hundred pounds under his fatigued and battered muscles. He would be lucky to make it to a hotel for the night.
He staggered through the streets like a drunkard, grinding his teeth to push down the urge to vomit. A neon flashing sign reading ‘vacancy’ was his salvation.
He slumped against the hotel door and grabbed the handle. He nearly fell onto the office floor when he pushed inside.
The clerk working the night shift slowly stood from his chair. Arwan leaned on the check-in desk, struggling to keep standing. He dug some money out of his pocket and spilled it onto the counter in a crumbled pile.
The clerk stared at him. “Dude. You okay? You look like shit.”
An American. Thank God. Arwan pushed the cash closer to the clerk. “I need a room.” His voice was raw and coarse. He hardly recognized it.
“Um, okay.” The clerk counted the cash and then offered a key dangling from a heavy blue marker that read room eight. “Bottom floor.”
Arwan’s head pounded, and his vision blurred when he reached for the key.
The clerk pulled it out of his reach. “No trouble, right? My boss would kill me if someone died of an overdose on my shift.”
Arwan’s legs quivered and nearly buckled. He clung on to the cold, dirty counter and shook his head. “No trouble.”
The clerk slowly lowered the key into Arwan’s hand.
It took every ounce of strength to drag his bag to his room. Arwan fumbled the key into the lock and managed to push the door open. He flipped on the yellow-tinted light to reveal a narrow bed made with a faded brown blanket, a round poker table with a fold-up chair, and a floor lamp in the corner.
He slipped inside and shut the door, then pulled the curtains aside and scanned the empty street for any signs he’d been followed. He would have preferred a hotel farther from Contessa’s home, but this was the best he could do under the circumstances.
He snapped the curtains shut and collapsed onto the bed. Springs groaned under his weight, and the scratchy blanket prickled his sweat-slicked skin. Tomorrow he would find a flight back to Belize. Renato’s house. His home.
He closed his eyes, and his mind wandered to an image of Zanya’s face.
Her touch.
Her smell.
The force of the solstice kept his heart true to her. Everything he had done was so they could be together.
Hopefully what Contessa had done to him would not have any long-term effects, though only time would tell.
***
Nearly three days later, Arwan landed in Belize. The airports were packed with holiday commuters traveling to see family. This time he was just part of the wandering crowd as he wove between people toward the exit.
Though the fatigue was still settled deep in his bones, his condition was better than it had been the day before. Each morning seemed to bring improvement, and the fact he had not succumbed to any other effects from Contessa’s magic left him optimistic.
He caught a trolley to the long-term parking and unlocked the Coupe, then sat in the driver’s seat. The engine purred when he turned on the car.
He pulled out of the parking lot, onto the highway. The drive gave him time to think—to wonder what the page of the book would say. Could Contessa have been right when she said his mother had taken her own life?
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, making the color drain from his knuckles. If that were the case, his entire life had been a lie. He’d spent most of his life hating the underworld king, who he’d believed was responsible for her death. All along he should have been angry with her, or maybe himself for becoming the creature she wanted to escape from.
Perhaps he had been to blame all along.
Nearly two hours later Arwan pulled into the covered garage at Renato’s home. His first priority was to find his mentor and explain where he had been for the last five days. Other than Zanya’s mother, nobody was aware he’d gone far enough away to need a car.
The house was empty as he wandered through the wings. Even Renato’s study was quiet. He slipped down the hall toward the main wing.
Distant, echoing voices caught his attention. He approached the door to the dojo and quietly pushed it open. Everyone was gathered around the blue training mat. Zanya and Peter were in the center, and her mother, Renato, and Hawa stood on the sidelines.
Arwan softly cleared his throat. Renato glanced over his shoulder and studied Arwan for a moment before slipping away.
Everyone else was too caught up in Zanya’s training to notice Renato’s absence. His mentor met him in the hall. “Where have you been?” His tone was deep, calm, and yet somehow intense.
Arwan held out the page bearing the Maya hieroglyphs in fading ink.
Renato let out a deep sigh. “That was what I was afraid of.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in silence and then snatched the paper from Arwan’s grasp. “You traveled there without me—without anyone knowing, to get this?” He shoved the paper against Arwan’s chest. “You could have been killed.”
“Did she hurt you?”
“Yes…no.” He still wasn’t entirely sure. “I managed to escape her house with my life, barely. Her darkness made me sick for days. She touched me. I think that was what caused it.”
“But did she cast on you?”
“No. She wasn’t able to. She was too weak. But she offered to give me something. Something I had no idea was even possible.”
Renato’s eyes narrowed. “No gift from that witch is worth accepting. Not when she is so deeply invested in working against our cause.”
“Renato.” Arwan shifted closer to him. “She told me she could make me normal. Riyata, without the darker half. That she could tear it out of my soul.”
His mentor’s lips parted and his eyes widened with alarm. “Dear gods in the heavens, please tell me you did not allow her to do this.”
Arwan swallowed and took a step back. “Not knowing what she might do with it, I couldn’t.”
Renato let out a long exhale and patted Arwan on the shoulder. “Very good, young man. Well done.”
“But I still needed this page.” Arwan reexamined the symbols. “She said this page contains a piece of my past. Something about my mother.”
Zanya’s mother approached the open doorway, her focus locked on Arwan. “What the hell are you doing back here?”
“Ellie, please,” Renato said sternly. “As far as I remember, this is my home as well, and I welcome him here as long as he needs to stay.”
“Fine. But if he’s going to stay here, he has to earn his keep.” She gestured to the dojo. “Zanya needs training and she’s kicking Peter’s ass.”
Arwan turned to Renato. “This isn’t the best time—”
“I wasn’t asking.” Eleuia stepped aside. “Go ahead. Renato tells me you’re quite the martial artist.”
Arwan held the paper out to his mentor. “Keep this safe. I’ll bring it to Drina for translating as soon as I’m done.”
Renato cautiously accepted the page. “Zanya has become quite powerful. Are you sure you want to train her right now? I believe she is rather upset with you.”
“Snap-snap,” Eleuia interrupted. “We don’t have all day. Move it.”
Arwan glanced at Zanya’s mother, then back to Renato. “It seems I don’t have much of a choice.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Zanya
Zanya shifted her weight on the mat as Arwan walked toward the center of the room, Renato and her mom bickering behind him.
“Oh thank God.” Peter cradled his ribs. “Where have you been?”
Hawa stood silent while Tara glanced nervously at Zanya. She had every right to be worried. If Arwan stepped one foot on the mat, Zanya would conjure a lightning storm and finish what she’d started.
“Well?” Eleuia said to Arwan. “What are you waiting for? Show her your moves.”
Arwan’s jaw visibly flexed. He slid off his shoes.
Was he seriously going to try to train her? Zanya exhaled, annoyance stripping away any patience she had left. She had been in the dojo all day. With few breaks and little sleep the night before, she wasn’t in the brightest of moods as it was.
Arwan moved to the center of the mat, avoiding eye contact.
“What are you training on?” When nobody answered, he looked at Zanya.
She turned to Renato. “Is this really necessary? Peter and I were doing fine.”
“What?” Peter was still clenching his ribs when he glanced between Zanya and Renato. “But it’s good to train with more than one person. That way you can test yourself with different levels of skill.” He locked his eyes on Renato. “Right? Tell her I’m right,” he whispered harshly.
“Of course he’s right,” Eleuia said. “Give the poor healer a break. He’s done enough work for one day.”
Peter mumbled, limping off the mat.
Coward.
“Fine.” Zanya threw her hair into a messy bun. “Basic defensive blocks. Upper, middle, lower, and X-block. Got it?”
Arwan nodded. “Ready?”
Her mother laughed and then pressed her fingers over her lips, her eyes bright with amusement.
“Whenever you are,” Zanya said.
Arwan threw a basic forward punch. She countered with a side block, and Arwan flew back. Her arm sparked with electricity.
He shook out his hand. “I thought you weren’t using your powers.”
She grinned. “Oops.”
He settled into a fighting stance. “Again.” He charged, throwing a downward strike with a hammer fist.
She used an X-block to counter, and the force of her energy pitched him across the room. He tumbled to a stop at the edge of the mat and slowly picked himself up. He shook his head as if his vision were impaired and rubbed his eyes.
She threw her hands in the air. “You know what? This is a waste of time. I can clearly take care of myself.”
“But it’s funny as hell.” Hawa chuckled, standing beside Eleuia. Now both of them were snickering.
“You may be able to defend yourself with your abilities, but without them, you panic.” Renato’s words sobered the moods of everyone in the room. “And when you panic, you will end up dead.” He gestured to Arwan. “Again.”
“No, thanks.” She walked off the mat. “I’m done for today.” She pushed open the door and marched down the hall. The rhythm of footsteps behind her flared her anger. Only one person would be stupid enough to follow her. She fisted her hands. “Leave me alone.”
“We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
The footsteps quickened until he caught up to her. “Zanya, please. I should have told you, and you have every right to be angry.”
“Good, because I was going to be if I had a right or not.”
He took her hand and tried to slow her down. She channeled a shock through her fingers, and he yanked back. She spun to face him. “Listen to me. I don’t know when you decided I didn’t need to know that side of you, but I gave you every opportunity to explain. Now it’s too late. You told me you were half-underworlder and I was okay with that. Why didn’t you tell me the rest?”
“I didn’t…” He swallowed. “I didn’t want to face it myself. I’ve spent my entire life denying who I am—pushing it away because my darkness only hurts people. It was the reason my mother died, and it’s the reason…” He paused, searching her face.
She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers over her bicep. “The reason what? Because it better be good.”
“The reason we will never be able to bond.”
Her lips parted. “What?” Her seething anger was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of unexpected grief. “And you knew? All this time?”
He nodded.
She sharpened her gaze. “It figures. You led me along anyway.”
“I never led you anywhere I wasn’t willing to go. I know we can’t bond, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be together.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, it does.” Her throat ached as she stepped back. “I’m meant to bond with someone, and that’s clearly not you.” Her glare intensified. “Not that I would have chosen to be with you, anyway. Not after this.”
***
The next morning, there was a knock at Zanya’s bedroom door. She grabbed her stone and sat up. “Who is it?”
“Mom.”
Zanya rested her back against her headboard. It was almost ten o’clock in the morning, and her mother was probably there to drag her to the dojo for another full day of training. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Come in…I guess.” She mumbled the last bit.
“I heard that.” Eleuia butted the door open with her hip and stepped inside, a mug in each hand. Zanya was surprised to see her wearing normal clothes, her hair down in waves—like the first time they’d met. �
�How did you sleep?” The scent of fresh coffee made her stomach growl.
“Okay.” Total lie. She gestured toward the mugs. “Is one of those for me?”
“It is.” Her mom sat on the foot of her bed and handed her a cup. “Tara made it. I wasn’t sure how you like it.”
Zanya sipped the sweet, milky brew. “Oh my God. This is so good. And just in time.” She squinted at the sun pouring through her window. “I bet Renato has been up for hours. He’s probably waiting on me start training.”
“Not today. We have special plans.”
Zanya took another sip of her coffee. “What’s going on?”
“You’re going to meet some of the people we are traveling to the winter solstice with. Other Riyata I have gotten to know over the years. They heard about Sarian’s death, and it was enough to make them come out of hiding. They want to meet the new guardian. Do you think you can handle socializing for a couple of hours?”
“I guess. How many people are coming?”
“Just a few close friends.”
An hour later, Zanya descended the stairs to the empty kitchen. Murmurs leaked through the crack of the French doors that led to the veranda.
“Pretty weird, right?” Jayden walked into the kitchen and settled beside her.
“What’s weird?” Besides how totally awkward it was to see him.
He nodded to the doors. “Your mom’s creepy friends.”
Zanya glanced at the veranda. “They’re outside. Right now?”
“Yup.” He pulled out a wooden diner chair and took a seat. “So.” He propped his feet up on another chair in front of him. “Are we going to talk about what happened?”
Zanya walked around the counter and poured another cup of coffee, the earthy aroma steaming into the air. “Nope.” She added some creamer, and the colors swirled together in her cup.
Jayden followed her with his gaze as she walked toward the French doors.
“My mom has guests and she asked me to introduce myself, so whatever you want to say is going to have to wait.”
Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) Page 19