by Kresley Cole
How could he be so good to me when I'd hurt him so deeply? I remembered his blood-curdling roar when I'd ridden away from him--to be with Jack. . . .
As hours--days? weeks?--passed, Aric remained with me. At times, I could tell he was biting back sounds of grief.
Other times, he talked to me. He told me about my grandmother: "The sight of you gave her a . . . shock. But she will recover. Just as you will."
He told me about the other Arcana: "Lark sent a scout back to that clearing to collect her falcon and my sword. There were no bodies at the crash site. As I suspected, Fortune and the Sun survived."
One time I heard a wolfish whimper, and a slobbery tongue licked my hand. "You have a visitor," Aric said. "Your favorite." Cyclops? He'd made it! "I've always appreciated the potential of the wolves, but I never thought we would owe our lives to them."
Now another wave of agony hit. My screams echoed. I didn't want to scare anyone, but I couldn't choke them back.
"I need to help you." He sounded so gutted, as if his pain mirrored mine. "How can I help you?"
I didn't think anything could be done. And so, I had two new missions.
To make sure Aric killed me if I began to turn. And to extract a promise of bloody revenge against the Emperor. As soon as I could speak.
Aric tensed against me. "She returns."
Footsteps neared. "Is there . . . any change?" my grandmother asked in a weak voice. Were her words slurred?
She was maddeningly close. If only I could communicate with her. Did she know that Haven was ash? That her daughter had died?
Aric answered, "The Empress will rally."
"Sir . . ." Paul was down here as well? He did pretty much everything around the castle, from cooking all meals to stitches. I didn't envy Paul his job at Castle Death.
The man was brave enough to say, "She might be starting to turn. If you wait too long, she could bite another."
The idea of harming someone else sickened me even more. I whispered, "Kill me," but no one seemed to have heard me.
"I will do nothing," Aric said, "until--or unless--she craves blood."
I shuddered.
"Leave her with me," Gran said. "You shouldn't be in this bed with her, holding her like that. She's a girl of seventeen."
"She's a millennia-old Empress."
"I should take care of her," Gran insisted.
"You forget that this is my home, Tarasova. I will do as I please."
I wondered why he hadn't told her we were married. Aric hadn't been shy in announcing that fact to Jack.
But that had been before I'd rejected Aric and his claim on me. Before I'd broken this man's heart. . . .
17
My eyes darted behind my lids as I hovered between sleep and wakefulness. I was in a bed. I sensed plants all around me.
When the pain had finally dwindled to a manageable level, I cracked open my eyes. Could only make out a white blank.
Ah, God, why couldn't I see? Would my sight return? I blinked over and over. Maybe I was turning, my eyes gone filmy?
No, some kind of brightness blazed down. Oh. The sunlamps. I was in the nursery.
Blurry images began to take shape. Why was there a bed down here? Vines and rose stalks traipsed over my body and the footboard.
Beneath the mass of green, I shifted my limbs, flexing my muscles. My arms and legs were weak and sore as hell, but healing.
I eased my head back. Aric sat up against the headboard, his eyes closed. Vines and rose stalks covered him as well.
In sleep, his brow furrowed, his lips thinned. He had golden stubble over his lean cheeks and dark circles under his eyes, looking older and more exhausted than I had ever seen him. He wore black pants and a thin dark sweater, but I could tell he'd lost weight.
How long had he been here with me? After our history, I was surprised he could tolerate the plants overrunning him.
Memory fragments from my recovery surfaced: his soothing words, his care, his updates about life around the castle. He'd challenged me to heal and stayed with me the entire time.
All around us, plants--even trees--merged to make walls. He'd chosen to remain inside my deadly green lair. I stretched my arm over him, savoring his warmth and strength.
His amber eyes blinked open. He found me staring at him, and his lips curved. "Sieva." Pinpoints of light radiated from his spellbinding gaze.
"You're okay with these plants?" I murmured, my throat scratchy.
His smile widened. "I'm thankful to them. They comforted you more than I could have."
I didn't know about that. "How long was I out?"
"For weeks."
My jaw slackened. "That can't be right."
"Those Bagmen bit you more than a dozen times. Your legs were badly injured and you'd been shot. Your regeneration ability had much to contend with."
I did remember landing feet first. "Will I . . . turn?"
"I do not believe that. You would have already." Aric would never lie to me.
I relaxed somewhat. With a wave of my hand, I moved the vines off the bed, off him.
He appeared to relax a touch as well. "If someone had said a few of months ago that I would nod off while surrounded by the Empress's vines, I'd have called him mad." He reached for a glass of water on a tray. He helped me sit up and brought the cup to my lips. "Easy."
I drank enough to quench the worst of my thirst. "The Emperor is planning to attack the castle. Soon."
"I know. You told me. Happily, you led the Sun in the opposite direction of our home."
Our home. "I did?" Totally meant to do that.
In a strange tone, he said, "Do you not remember any of the things we talked about on the journey here? Any of the things you told me?"
I cast my mind back. The whole time was a blur.
His gaze flicked over my face, reading my confusion. For some reason, he seemed to be closing down right in front of me. He straightened his shoulders, his demeanor growing distant and formal. "You must have many questions."
A thousand. "Why weren't we able to communicate with each other?" I vaguely remembered Aric touching on this, but not what he'd said. "I called and called for you."
"The Fool disconnected everyone. I don't know why. Perhaps to conceal some players from others. Or perhaps because he'd been weakened."
In the days before abandoning me, Matthew had suffered nosebleeds and increased disorientation. Normally, I hated to think of him in pain. But after his betrayal, I relished the idea.
"Empress?"
I blinked. "What happened to you after Circe's tidal wave?"
"I began searching for you as soon as I broke free from the flood. I feared you couldn't survive without . . . your arm. You must forgive me for that."
"There's nothing to forgive."
"How did you survive?"
I recalled being caught in that whirlpool with Bagmen, terrified I'd get bitten. Apparently that had always been my fate. "I latched onto a cell-phone tower. I climbed up and waited out the waters."
"Climbed with one arm?"
"I didn't say I climbed well. Circe's an ally, isn't she?"
Nod.
"Will she help us kill Richter?"
He scrubbed a palm down his weary face. "When the time comes."
"The time? As soon as I recover." Then I remembered--my grandmother was here! I reached for him. "I need to see Gran. I thought I heard . . . is she okay?"
He took my offered hand, then stared at our clasped fingers. Still so unused to touch. He cleared his throat. "She was weak when I found her, and her health hasn't improved. But she's stable."
"She's been down here though."
His thumb rubbed my skin. "After the first day or so, the many steps to this level proved challenging."
"Will you move me closer to her?"
Firm shake of his head. "You're not ready."
"I could take a sunlamp and a couple of houseplants. Please?" I squeezed his hand.
He exhaled. "A
nd still, I can deny you nothing." He lifted me in his arms, and carried me toward the stairs. "You can stay in the guest room next to hers. I'll have all your things moved from the tower."
Because I wasn't a prisoner anymore. "Maybe just some of my clothes. I like my room up there." I'd painted the walls and made myself at home.
As he settled me into bed in my new room, my nightgown shifted, and I winced at the bruises on my legs, my skin mottled black and blue. Then I clung to his hand, not wanting to let him out of my sight.
He frowned and pulled away. "I'll be right back." He drew his gloves from his pants pocket, donning them as he crossed to the door.
Lark sidled past him into the room. "Evie!" she cried. The last time I'd seen her, she'd been wearing two casts, one on her arm and one on her ankle, but now she was all healed up. "The unclean one is back! I thought you were unclean before you got Bagger funk all in your veins. You missed me, didn't you?"
"I did. Thank you for helping to save my life."
"Yeah, well, you owe me." Her smile faded. "I don't suppose you saw Finn anywhere?"
I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I thought he'd be at Fort Arcana, but the place was abandoned. I saw . . . part of Cyclops." Hadn't the wolf come to see me? Or had I dreamed that? "What happened at the fort?"
"After the big attack, Fortune flew over it with Richter. She was just carting him around, like they were on a fun date or something. He must've been outta Emperor juice, 'cause he started gunning up the place."
As long as I was alive, Richter's days were numbered. I'm coming for you, Richter. I would replace his laughter with screams.
Lark continued, "Finn couldn't run with his bum leg, barely got to an outbound truck. I leapt up to fang the chopper to buy time."
So strange to hear her talk like this, as if she'd been there. Which she kind of had been. In the form of Cyclops. Red of tooth and claw. And later she'd attacked Fortune through Scarface--saving me.
"Those choppers drive me--I mean, my wolves--batty. Anyway, Richter shot up Cyclops until I couldn't hold on. I dropped right in the middle of the freaking minefield. And ouch. Needless to say, I couldn't keep up with Finn's truck." Her eyes flickered animal red as she said, "When we take care of Richter, save Fortune for me. That bitch and I have a date."
"Noted. Did your falcon survive?"
"Yeah. She's one of the scouts I've got searching for Finn." Lark shuffled her feet. "Death told me you'd been riding out to meet Jack, to leave with him."
And yet Aric had come for me and saved my life.
"Eves, I'm really sorry about the Cajun."
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. My recovery seemed to have loosened my tourniquet. Tighten it!
A sudden thought occurred. "Lark, where are the clothes I was wearing?"
"Dunno. Paul probably burned them. They looked like you got dunked in Ragu or something--"
"There was a ribbon in my pocket." My last physical tie to Jack. "Please find it! Please!"
"I'll try." Cocking her head, she muttered, "I hear your grandmother coming. Gotta scram. I'll check back in later."
I had so many more questions, but Lark slipped out.
Aric entered with Gran, helping her along with his gloved hands.
She looked so different from the last time I'd seen her. Her face was worn, and her hair had grayed even more. She'd lost a lot of weight, and her dark brown eyes no longer twinkled.
"Evie!" she cried, limping to my bed. She wrapped her thin arms around me.
I returned her hug. "Gran." Her scent cast my mind back to my childhood, bringing on a rush of memories: Her pushing me on the swing at Haven. . . . Gran and Mom laughing when a duckling chased me. . . . Gran teaching me how to tend her beloved rose garden; the soil had been so warm. . . .
I'd waited through nine years and an apocalypse to see her again.
Over her shoulder, I caught Aric's gaze. He stood in the doorway, his bearing tense. Hadn't I heard strained exchanges between them? I couldn't remember. I mouthed Thank you to him.
Curt nod.
Gran drew back and sat on the bed. "Look at you! You're all grown up. And so beautiful." Her words did sound slurred. "I was so worried when I first saw you." Was one corner of her lips turned down?
"Are you okay, Gran?"
"I'll be fine. We need to focus on you. We have so much to catch up on."
When I thought of all the things we needed to talk about--Mom's death, the destruction of Haven, my relationship with Death--exhaustion swept over me.
I looked to Aric for support, but he was gone.
"Lord, you can barely keep your eyes open." She clucked her tongue and tucked the blanket around me. "I'm here, watching over you. We'll figure everything out. For now, you've got to regain your strength. Get some sleep, Evie."
I needed to be doing so many things other than sleeping. Such as plotting the Emperor's grisly death.
Still, my lids slid closed. "Just for a minute. . . ."
18
Day 424 A.F.
Gran sat on the edge of the bed, brushing my hair. She chattered about the food here and the worsening weather--any topic except those we needed to speak about.
When I'd awakened around dinnertime, she had been beside me--not Aric. But, as promised, he'd filled the room with plants and sunlamps, and moved my clothes to the closet.
Gran had brought me a tray with soup, then she'd helped me take a bath and get dressed. She'd murmured, "Such pretty clothes Death has provided for you." But she hadn't sounded approving.
Now she laid aside the brush with a labored breath. "I'm plumb wore out."
I turned to face her. "Tell me what's wrong."
She smoothed her gray hair, the length caught up in a careless bun. "Worry's kept me from sleeping. But you're on the mend now."
Slowly. "And you?"
"I'll be right as rain soon enough." Had she averted her eyes?
"Gran, how did you survive the Flash?"
"My facility was old, so there was an actual bomb shelter. I sensed something coming and headed down. I was the only one to make it, which meant I had food and supplies aplenty."
Everyone had told me she would never survive this long, but I'd believed. "I tried to reach you."
"I knew you would, which is why I stayed put," she said. "I figured the one thing stronger than my desire to return to Haven would be Karen's strength of will to reunite with me--once she realized I'd been right." Gran's dark eyes glinted. "Death told me she . . . died a few months ago."
Gran already knew; she wouldn't have rested until she'd found out Mom's fate. "She regretted not believing you. It tore at her."
"I hate that she was hurting from it."
I took her hand. Her grip felt weak, her bones brittle. "About Haven . . ."
"Was the house hurt on Day Zero? I thought for sure the oaks would protect it."
"They did." Those twelve mighty oaks had given their lives. "Months after the Flash, the Lovers closed in with an army. I didn't want them to have our home. So we, uh . . . we burned it down."
"H-Haven's . . . gone?"
"I'm so sorry."
She shook her head. "No. Don't be. From what I've heard, the Lovers were as evil as they'd ever been. I'd rather you destroy our home than let them have it." She frowned. "You said we burned it."
"Jack and I." Just saying his name tested my tourniquet. "He was a bayou boy I met in school. He saved me from the Lovers, and about a dozen other times."
Her perceptive gaze flicked over my face. "You're in love with him?"
I nodded. "But he . . . died in the Emperor's attack."
"I heard Death and Fauna talking about a massacre." Gran tucked a curl behind my ear. "Jack was a human? A regular man?"
Regular? Not in any way. "He was an extraordinary non-Arcana." I found myself recounting a fraction of the brave, incredible things he'd done. Through the stories, Gran learned about the past several months of my life and some of my encounters with other Arcana.<
br />
I left out the part when Aric had abducted me, mentally and physically torturing me.
She gave me another hug, saying, "I'm so sorry Jack has passed on. I would've liked to see you with a boy from the Basin." She'd had friends there, visiting all the time. She drew back. "Did you speak Cajun French with him?"
Twist, tighten, constrict. "He loved that I could. Thank you for teaching me."
"Ah, Evie, you lost your love young, didn't you? Just like your mother."
When my dad had gone missing in the Basin, Mom had searched more than a million acres of swamp trying to recover him. I'd tried to reverse time to recover Jack.
In the end, Mom had been forced to just . . . accept her loss. I understood bravery in battle and dying; I now understood true pain. But I couldn't wrap my mind around . . . enduring.
Acceptance seemed out of the realm of my abilities. "The Emperor took Jack from me forever. I need to kill Richter. It's all I can think about." I'd had more nightmares about Jack burning. My mind seemed to be filled with fog, but I clearly recalled those dreams. They bubbled up like lava.
"You will have your vengeance in time," she assured me. "But the most important thing is the overarching game. You've done a great job setting this one up." She finally smiled. "We can't ruin all your work by acting rashly."
"Pardon?"
"Death walks around without his armor--because you have disarmed him. Well done, sweetheart. He's already defeated."
The dinner I'd managed to get down now threatened to come back up.
She patted my hand. "Look at those icons. You've already made two kills, and you've teed up two more. And if I'm not mistaken, the Priestess lingers nearby. Soon she'll be within reach. You always lure her out of her murky hiding places."
I had feared my grandmother would be hardcore about the game, about killing all Arcana. But to see and hear her . . . "I don't look at the people here as enemies. I will never hurt any of them," I said firmly. Aric had brought her to me; shouldn't gratitude or decency have softened her stance? At least in regard to him?
She winked at me and whispered, "You don't have to act. They're down at dinner. They can't hear us."
Oh, God. No wonder Aric hadn't trusted me for so long. Aside from my history of stabbing him in the back, he'd believed I would think like Gran.
And I might have--if Mom hadn't sent her away.
How could I tell my grandmother that I hadn't turned out as she'd hoped? Would the shock hurt her worse? I needed to know what was going on with her health before I dropped this bombshell on her.