“I have to go,” he said. “Remember, it’s just a dream.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. Her screams pierced him just as the palace floor fell out from under his feet and he jolted back into his body.
His eyes flew open wide, meeting the dark stare of Adrianna. A feral snarl exploded from his chest at being forced from Emma’s mind. Curls of colored magic sparked from her fingertips when she staggered back a step with a yell. She clapped a hand over her mouth and stared back at the inky black barrier. How she’d gotten in without Tlahaz was a mystery Levaroth didn’t care to solve.
She dropped her hand then moved closer again.“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how long I have. I wanted to let you know Tlahaz told me the deal you’re offering.”
“And?” he snapped, temper still burning hot.
“Tlahaz thinks it’s too complex for me. I haven’t had much training, but—”
“Skip to the yes or no part, Witch,” he growled.
Adrianna pursed her lips, eyes filled with irritation.“I’ll do it. But I need some way to access Emma. I can’t physically touch her, which complicates things. I’ll need to establish a link to her before I—”
“I’m linked to her. She bears my tracking mark. I share a link into her mind and can project myself to her location.”
“That’s where you were,” Adrianna said with a smile. Her expression turned hopeful—excited, even.“That should work!”
“When can you do it?” Levaroth asked quickly, his chest battered with conflicting emotions.
Her smile evaporated.“I’ll do it the next time Tlahaz brings me to you. But…Levaroth…”
His name was stilted on her tongue, making him snort.
“In theory, if I do this, the link you share with her will vanish too.”
A pang of something cold ricocheted through him.
“Not that it matters, I guess,” she mused quietly.“Since you’re trading your memories for her freedom.”
Levaroth met her eyes and saw her approval in them. She offered a tentative and kind smile. He didn’t return it.
“It matters to me,” he breathed. “But her freedom matters even more.”
13
Emma
The nightmare sent her shooting upright, gasping. Her body was slicked with an icy sweat and she shivered, trying to push the horrific sight from her mind. Emma
pulled back the covers and started for her bathroom. As she passed the door adjoining her room and Blaze’s, she felt him just on the other side. Part of her ached to open the door and let Blaze comfort her as he’d done the past few weeks, but she couldn’t. Not after what she’d overheard. Had it all been a lie? Every time he’d held her after a nightmare, had he been doing it just to make her care for him even more?
It had worked, that’s what stung the most. Maybe it had been because she’d moved around so much and couldn’t retain a lasting relationship that had her throwing herself into every set of willing arms. Every charming smile flashed in her direction had brought her nothing but heartache.
The conversation between Blaze and his uncle played on repeat in her mind as she turned on the shower and stripped off her damp clothes. I knew it was odd. What did a man of two hundred years see in an eighteen-year-old girl? Sure, she’d been forced to mature faster than most girls her age, but she was still just a child to a man that had lived several lifetimes and would likely live several more. But I…
Tears of humiliation burned her eyes as she stepped under the spray of the hot water. It did little to chase away the chills of her nightmare—of what she’d seen inside the room. Not to mention the visit from Levaroth that had turned her into a mess of heat and confusion. Emma bent her head, letting the water pour over her skull and neck. It ran in rivulets down her face, her tears lost to the warm cascade.
They had an unlimited supply of hot water, and though it was the middle of the night, Emma turned it off when her eyes had dried up and the images from her nightmare were no longer etched into the underside of her eyelids. She stepped out, grabbing a plush white towel and wrapping it around her slim frame. Her eyes avoided her reflection. She knew she was losing weight, but she didn’t want to see it.
In the doorway, she froze, sensing the warm, soothing presence of a Giborim—not in his room, where he’d been when she’d entered the shower—but on the other side of the door. Tentatively, she peered out around it. Blaze stared back at her, and he looked angry.
He shot to his feet, movements stiff as he rushed toward her. Emma tried to stumble back, but Blaze clasped her by the shoulders, holding her in place. His warm, earthy scent made it difficult to remember why she didn’t want to see him right now, especially with only a towel covering her. But the strength of his hands and the heat pouring from his impressive body made her want to lean into him instead.
Emma managed to mentally shake herself, and she looked up at him, craning her neck.“This is highly inappropriate.”
His eyes narrowed, accentuating his intimidating expression. “I’d ask what you dreamt of this time, but since you won’t tell me, I won’t ask. I just want to know why you’re shutting me out now.You won’t even let me comfort you anymore when you wake up screaming.”
Emma pulled in a deep breath, then instantly regretted filling her senses with him. “I heard you and your uncle. About your little deception.”
Blaze went perfectly still for several moments, his eyes dropping to the doorway where carpet ended and tile began. “My uncle has no idea that I knew of you months before he did. He has no idea that Sergei had hired me to look after you for him when he wasn’t around. And he certainly doesn’t have any understanding of what I feel for you. Because I didn’t trick you, Emma, no matter what you may think.”
Her heart raced as she blinked up at him. Did she believe him? She knew that Sergei had asked him to protect her. They were friends. But even if it wasn’t duty that tied them together now, it had been before. She questioned everything: their almost kiss in his garden. The actual kiss on her front porch.
“Why?” she croaked.
“Why what?” he asked harshly.
She couldn’t look away from his cool, penetrating grey eyes when she spoke again, feeling childish. “Why do you like me? I’m a child compared to you.” Her face was hot as his features softened.
Then he chuckled.
“You are very young,” he confirmed.“But in every sense of the word, you are a woman. You know your mind and your heart. You fight fiercely for what you believe in.” His head bent lower to her, making her acutely aware of the proximity of their lips.
“For us, our bodies remain young even as we go on for hundreds, if not thousands of years. It’s easier for me to overlook your age because of it. However”—he straightened to his full height, serious expression back in place—“if my age bothers you, I need to know.”
Emma bit her lip and considered. Then she shook her head.
His relief was palpable when he smiled, a dazzling, heartstopping smile, and she couldn’t help but return the gesture.
“And just so you know,” he whispered as if imparting a great secret, “you’re ten times as mature as my brother’s fiancée and she’s over eighty years of age.”
After seeing Emerelda scold several servers over a crease in the tablecloths, Emma felt inclined to agree.
Blaze’s intense stare dipped to the soft, white terry cloth that Emma held in place around her body, and she felt as if it wasn’t there at all. He stepped back, though she noticed the stiff movement for what it was: reluctance.
“Well, I’ll leave you to get dressed. And if you need me at all tonight, I’ll come.”
He turned to go, but she grabbed his hand. Blaze looked at it, then at her, brows drawn.
She bit her bottom lip, hoping her request wouldn’t sound childish. “Could you…I mean instead of having to come back, you could just stay?” Her face flamed and she glanced down at herself, half expecting her fire to burst to life to hide her from her
embarrassment. “I’d put clothes on, obviously,” she added quickly, before looking up again.
Amusement lit his features, then he nodded.
Emma returned the gesture before scooting around him, careful not to let any part of their bodies touch when she snatched up a pair of sweatpants and her favorite worn band T-shirt and hurried back into the bathroom to get dressed.
When she emerged, her footsteps faltered at the sight of a shirtless Blaze lying on top of the duvet, denim-clad legs crossed. His hands were tucked behind his head of dark hair. His eyes remained closed, but she could tell from the uneven breathing that he was not yet asleep.
Nervousness fluttered through her, making her fingers and toes tingle. Standing at the empty side of the bed, Emma tried to work up the courage to pull back the comforter, but she felt frozen. It wasn’t as if it was the first time she’d shared a bed with him. For weeks, when her nightmares woke her, Blaze had stayed beside her the rest of the night or until she had admitted defeat and gone to train.
He cracked one eye open as his lips curved. “I’ll stay above the duvet the whole time.” He drew an X over his heart.
Emma sighed, flinging the covers back like ripping off a band-aid, and before she could talk herself out of it, climbed onto the bed and curled the thick, soft material over her, leaving just enough of her face exposed for her to breathe.
“Relax. If I had any ill intentions, a bit of cotton and goose feathers wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
That statement did the exact opposite of relaxing her—she clutched the blanket tighter before his rumbling chuckle shook the bed.
Emma scowled at him and he smiled. The lines of tension on his face had almost completely vanished. Her chest suddenly felt lighter. Then with a peck of a kiss to her temple that reminded her all too much of Levaroth’s departing kiss, he sighed and switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
The guilt returned, weighing on her shoulders.
Blaze turned onto his side, facing her.“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.” Her voice was small in the seemingly infinite darkness around them.
Blaze said nothing and Emma felt his warmth begin to wash over her. She didn’t want to close her eyes and get trapped in the same nightmare, but with Blaze so near, she couldn’t fight the exhaustion.
Sleep pulled her under, this time dreamless and peaceful.
When she awoke the next morning, Blaze was gone, the spot beside her cold. But a tray of steaming hot food sat on her table, and Blaze’s scent lingered in the air. He hadn’t been gone long.
She smiled as she crawled out of bed and walked over to her table. Between a plate of eggs with sautéed vegetables and a mug of black coffee sat a note. Emma read the elegant scrawl twice, her lips tugging even higher at Blaze’s neat writing.
Emma,
Get packed and be ready to leave by eight. Meet you downstairs.
P.S. Last night was a success.
Perhaps we could try again tonight?
Yours,
Blaze Her cheeks were flushed at the idea of spending a full night with him tonight, but she was certainly willing to try anything to keep the nightmares away. Though what she saw beyond the door would likely haunt her for the rest of her days.
Placing the cream-colored note aside, Emma sat down to eat her breakfast while it was still hot. She’d need to get dressed and head downstairs to assert herself in whatever official Giborim matters she could. The reminder of the fact that she was obligated to spy at every opportunity turned the food in her stomach to lead.
She pushed the plate away after downing her coffee, despite the churning of her gut, and stood. She selected her usual jeansand-shirt look, pairing it with a stylish black leather jacket, before grabbing her small suitcase from under her bed and tossing a week’s worth of clothing into it.
When she was done packing, Emma headed downstairs, spying Breanna outside her room, leaning against the doorframe. Dominic pressed his lips gently to the back of her hand with a small bow, then spun on his heels and stalked away. Her cheeks were red, and her chest rose and fell rapidly, as though she’d run several miles.
Emma suppressed her smile at the two’s budding relationship. She was happy for them, but she worried that her new friend would get too attached to Dominic, a Giborim who lived in Russia. Breanna was never to know what he was or why he couldn’t be with her. Giborim were forbidden from marrying humans. If they did, they were disgraced and cast out from their ranks.
The cold reminder of that ridiculous law stood in a shadowy alcove of shelved books. Silas’s dark hazel eyes were fixed on Breanna, burning with disdain. She hadn’t noticed the onlooker of her exchange with Dominic. But Emma had.
When she got close enough to Breanna, Emma was still issuing her own glare at Silas. He noticed her only a second before Breanna did. Switching her attention to Breanna, Emma smiled before turning back to where Silas had been, the space empty. Good, she thought. The vulture can go be creepy somewhere else.
“Where’s Isaac?” she asked.
“Sleeping,” Breanna replied, her voice light and dreamy. There was no denying that the girl was starstruck by the
impressive male. Emma was part Giborim and even she was enraptured by the Giborim’s ethereal beauty. By their unnerving grace and their all-around vibrance.As if their angel-descendance made their blood glow.
Shaking away her far-off thoughts, Breanna said,“So I heard you’re leaving today.”
“Yeah.” Emma felt a pang of sadness, being away from Breanna. Little Isaac, too. It was a relief to no longer see the faces of the children she had killed when she looked into the babe’s deep blue eyes.
Breanna threw her slender arms around Emma’s neck, hugging her tight. Emma returned the embrace.
“I should be back in a week. Maybe less.”
Breanna nodded, looking as sad as Emma felt.“I’ll miss you. Isaac will definitely miss you.”
Emma smiled. “I’ll miss you both.” She squeezed her new friend once more. Her chest ached even more when the faces of those she wished she could hug, but couldn’t, swam through her mind—Adrianna especially.
Footsteps approached and Emma turned, finding Blaze and a very tired-looking Axel making their way toward them. Emma cast a glance at Breanna, who went rigid as she did in every man’s presence. Every man except Dominic, that is. Emma wondered if she should warn her friend away from the Russian to save her from getting attached but thought better of it. It wasn’t her place to meddle.
If by some crazy miracle they won this war, Emma hoped the Giborim would learn to accept that love was unstoppable. That everyone should be allowed the freedom to choose whom they wished to love.
After all this…they deserved it.
Blaze smiled at her as if he’d heard her thoughts. She forced herself to smile back. If she somehow survived—if they both did—then she hoped that they would be accepted too. That even though her father was a Shediem, she’d be allowed to love Blaze without him being cast out.
But there was far more at stake than her future.
For now, they’d have to find happiness in the brief moments they had left.
So when Emma caught the scent of Blaze’s cologne mixed with his unique musk in the air, her smile became genuine.
Sergei and Gertie entered the foyer, duffel bags and suitcases in hand. They stopped, Sergei nodding in greeting, which Emma returned.
Breanna muttered her goodbyes then scurried into her room, closing the door softly behind her.
“All right,” Blaze said, inhaling a deep breath and running a hand through the stray ebony curls that had fallen against his forehead.
Raking them back gave him a deliciously tousled look that made Emma want to touch the silky strands too. An errant curl slipped forward again, brushing his dark eyebrow.
“Are we all ready to go?” he asked, glancing at each person.
Axel nodded with a wide yawn.
“You ca
n get some beauty sleep on the way,” Blaze quipped to his brother, who scoffed in mock offense.
Emma couldn’t help but notice how loose Axel’s clothes suddenly seemed to be. While he was nowhere near as packed with muscle as his brother, he was still well built. But today, his muscle density seemed to be diminishing. It brought to mind a type of parasite her mother had told her about. It starved the host, feasting on muscle, then fat, before boring into the bones to carve out the marrow. Emma’s stomach turned even at the memory of her mother showing her pictures of those that had been infected with the parasite.
But Giborim didn’t get parasites, at least not that she knew of. It made sense that diseases and illnesses didn’t affect them. In Emma’s short life, she’d never truly gotten ill, though she’d feigned sickness on more than one occasion to get out of school during a test or when there was a particularly nasty bully she wanted to avoid.
Somewhere, deep down, her mother had known Emma wouldn’t get sick like other children, but she’d played along until Emma’s own guilt would eat away at her. She’d burst into tears and confess her reasons for trying to get out of school. Her mother never got mad, and though she would use the same lecture about the importance of education, she would allow Emma her rare skip day. They’d eat soup and watch cartoons. A few of her supposed sick days were the happiest childhood memories she possessed.
They filed out of the mansion, and though Emma knew Gertie used her magic to keep the temperature inside the wards warmer, it was still cold enough for their breaths to puff in little white tendrils in the air.
A black SUV idled on the gravel road. After depositing her luggage into the trunk, Emma hopped up into the back and climbed over into the farthest row, allowing Gertie and Sergei to have the middle row to themselves.
No one really spoke beyond Blaze questioning both Spellcasters about their contacts in the south. Emma tuned it out, instead watching the world outside as they drove down the snowy mountain. The splashes of green from pine trees on a canvas of glittering white and the smooth, crystalline surface of frozen waterfalls were calming.
The Throne of Broken Bones (Weapon of Fire and Ash Book 3) Page 11
