Icarus; The Kindred (A Paranormal Romance)
Page 28
I throw my arms around his neck and whisper through my own tears, "You're so full of shit."
He wraps his arms all the way around me. "I can't let Jacelynd make good on a promise he made just to be able to fight me and find you. As much as I want to be the one here with you … I love you, Jess, and I won't take Jacelynd from you twice. This is as close as I'll ever come to being able to make amends for my actions."
"You choose now to become a good guy?" Great, now I'm bawling. He presses his cheek against mine.
"I was never the good guy." He kisses my forehead. "And you know it has to end this way."
"Then why does it hurt so badly?" I grip his shirt.
"It's time," Caen says.
Trinity starts to move away from me, but I stop him with a hand on either side of his face, then kiss him softly. I intend for it to be quick and sweet, but it's like having my insides set on fire and it melts my resolve. This kiss, while it pales in comparison to my chemistry with Jacelynd, holds more passion in it than any moment I've ever shared with Trinity.
"You didn't have to do that," he says as I pull back.
"I wanted to."
"Tell Lucan when he's old enough to understand what has happened, please, that I never meant to hurt him. And that I love him … I always will."
I nod, fighting another round of body-wrenching sobs.
"Goodbye, Jess." He takes my hand and presses a kiss into my palm, then walks through the doors Caen has opened. We aren't going to talk about how badly some part of me wants to run after him. It reminds me of a time in my donor's life when she had to put her dog to sleep. The needle plunged in and it was everything she could do not to scream at the doctors to do something when the dog stopped breathing.
Just before Trinity can disappear into the light, Caen stops him. A silent pause passes between them and Trinity lowers his head. He knows what's coming. Suddenly, Caen reaches out and plunges his bony hand into Trinity's chest, right where it had been cracked wide open in my dream … and I watch in horror as Trinity's arms fall to his sides, his head lulls lifelessly to the right. His body evaporates as Caen pulls away a pulsing mass and brings it to his hooded face. The mass is sucked inward and I see for a fleeting second a flash of the man Caen might have once been as he devours the last of the light; a handsome regard, dark human eyes. Then, bones and death are all that remain as the shadows return.
Iris hugs me then and I feel even worse. She's shaking so badly that I worry whether or not she'll even be able to take a step forward.
"I'm so sorry," I say.
She lets go of me and wipes my face with her hands. "It's okay. You're my best friend, Jess. Hopefully one day you'll get all of your memories back and you'll really remember our past. And I know that if the roles were reversed, you'd do the same for me. Tell my nephew that I would have been an awesome aunt."
"I will. Thank you … for everything." She smiles and turns to follow Trinity. I yell after her, "Wherever he is, take care of him, please."
She glances over her shoulder as she enters the light and I can barely make out a nod. The doors close behind her and I am left alone in the darkness of what now looks like an ordinary cave. I can only be grateful that I didn't have to see a repeat performance of what happened to Trinity.
It takes a second for the reality of what's just happened to rush over me, but once it does, my heart feels like it's about to explode.
And this, too, has been one of the dark places of the Earth.
I collapse to my knees and cry harder than I thought any immortal could cry. I don't realize there are hands on me for a few minutes. I look up to see Jacelynd and I can't kiss him quick enough.
"Your wounds are gone," he says as he feels me to make sure of it. I can't blame him for checking. I'm covered in blood.
"It's over. It's really over. And I didn't have to kill anyone. I so thought I was going to have to fight a whole army by myself. Did you know what Trinity would do? Is that why you said you needed him to make it to the gate?"
He pulls me onto his lap. "I didn't know for sure, but it was the only prayer I had of staying here with you. So I hoped for the best. I meant everything I said to him last night. Tell me what happened."
I wipe my face with my sleeve. "Yeah … about that. We need to have a long conversation about your father."
Everything I Do
The next year isn't easy. The second year is nearly catastrophic. The third year is arguably worse than the previous two combined, but the fourth really isn't too bad. We're halfway through it now and things could definitely be worse.
Despite having saved the two-thirds of the world that remained after the fake vaccine for the fake virus wiped out a third of all human life, existence as we knew it was over. Things would never be the same. Some governments collapsed under the financial strain of rebuilding society. Revelation of the Kindred's existence was unavoidable. So now it's no longer a secret and to be honest, I'm kind of glad. In some ways, it's the world that Trinity wanted for Lucan. But the dust is still settling and I'm not going to call anything wholly good or wholly evil just yet. High Coven was officially disbanded, but there are rumblings that they've merely gone underground. In the aftermath, everyone has stayed relatively quiet.
However, there are the Death Dealers to contend with still. Their latest leader may have been dispatched, but they've been around for hundreds of years—they predate High Coven. Barely a month passed before someone took my mother's place. I'm not ready to think about that indestructible army that Caen warned me of … not yet. We all know it's there, though. And it waits like cancerous cells in the body. Part of me believes that Caen was indeed telling the truth about the end of this world and its inevitability. It's not if, but when … and beyond that remains the thread of darkness that I invited into my heart at the gate. I feel it still, a thick and weighty nightfall surrounding a bright and burning fire. My blood is stronger now than ever … even I fear it at times. It's a violent war that wages in my soul and in my darkest hours, I question how long I'll be able to keep up the fight. Darker still, I wonder who my mother was before she gave in. Were we so different?
There is some good news, though—Liv and Quinn finally got married. He hasn't been able to convince her into a Blood Tithe, but at least they share a last name now. And yes, I did renew my Tithe with Jacelynd. I held out for a little while, but after a few months of saying everything I wanted him to hear aloud, I missed the intimacy of hearing him in a truly private way. Plus, you can talk about your kid right in front of him and he has no idea. It's awesome.
And let's talk about parenting. When you have a Spencer Reid kind of genius for a son, arguments are far from normal. He's now officially a teenager and you'd think he was forty. He's recovered and leads what I'd like to call a relatively normal life. For a bloodsucker, anyway.
Have I recovered all of my memories yet? No. Until we find my donor, I doubt it's possible for me to truly remember everything. And I haven't totally decided that I want to. I like who I am now and I like who Jacelynd and I are together. I've started to finally heal emotionally. Plus, I do get the occasional cool dream and I think I'd miss that, too. Not to mention that from what I've read in my journals about Iris, her loss, once it's fully realized, is going to royally suck.
"Are you done yet?" Jaceynd walks into our room at the house in Cape San Blas as I put the cap back on my pen. We moved back here about two years ago.
"This journaling thing isn't half bad."
He has a mischievous look in his eyes. "Do you remember me giving you that cryptic message from Damian after the explosion at Callmadus?"
"Yeah, why. Did you figure out what it meant?"
"I tripped over a groove on the last stair in the back hall. When I bent to see which stone was loose, I found this." He holds up a small tin box. "Your ring was inside."
"The one you gave me at the festival?"
He pulls it from the box and reaches for my hand. It's gorgeous—bright silver with a
garnet. "The very one. He must have hid it from you at some point. You guys were always doing crap like this to each another."
"Lucan gone already?"
Jace nods. "Tyler's mother picked him up a little while ago. I thought I'd give you a few more minutes of privacy before reminding you that you promised to spend some time with me tonight."
"Oh … and what do you have in mind?"
He kisses my cheek, then walks over to the stereo on our dresser and presses a button. He's had this thing ready to go since before I came in here because Bryan Adams' voice sounds over the crystal-clear speakers.
"Still your current favorite song?" he asks. When you're immortal like we are, everything is relative.
"Don't tell me it's not worth fighting for," I squeal as he sweeps me off the bed and into a slow dance near the window.
"There's nowhere … unless you're there," he sings along. God, I'd forgotten how much I love his voice. He leans down until our foreheads touch and suddenly I feel as giddy and as youthful as our son.
I love you, I think.
He takes one arm from around my waist and slides it into my hair at my jawline, then lowers his mouth to mine. You'd think as long as we've been together that the fire might burn out, or at least fade. But this kiss is every bit as passionate and heartfelt as that kiss we shared in that shaded corridor so long ago. The first time I put on this ring, as a matter of fact.
"I love you too," he whispers. Eternally.
J. S. Chancellor
J.S. Chancellor, whose personal motto is, "Woe is the writer who mounts their merit on the masses," started writing stories when she was still in grade school and finished her first fantasy novella at the age of 14. She drafted chapter one of the Guardians of Legend trilogy when she was a freshman in high school, sitting on a stool in front of a piano bench in her parents' den. It wasn't until she was 25 when a resident at the apartment complex where she worked lovingly made a casual remark about her procrastination that her passion for fantasy fiction took center stage. Since then, she's focused all of her efforts on writing, to include leaving her full-time job in September 2009 and actively maintaining a blog dedicated to the art of crafting fiction—www.welcometotheasylum.net. You can find her there, or her official website, www.jschancellor.com. She currently resides in Georgia with her two beloved dogs.