Reliquary (Reliquary Series Book 1)

by Sarah Fine

  “Good. Thanks.” I needed him as far from me as he could get right now. I needed to think things through.

  We reached my room and he opened the door for me, then walked in and pulled a pair of sweat shorts and a T-shirt from his duffel, along with a pair of sandals. “It’s all I have for you, but I’ve seen you wear stuff like that before and figured it would be comfortable . . .” His voice faded to nothing as he looked me over. “Let me untie the corset for you.”

  “No,” I whispered.

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re being stupid.”

  “Seriously? Just get out.”

  He scrubbed his hands over his face and ran them through his hair. “Goddammit, Mattie, you can barely even stand up, and all I’m—”

  “Get out!” I shrieked, shaking all over as I pointed to the door.

  “If that’s how you want to do it.” He stalked out the door, slamming it behind him.

  I sank to the bed, letting the tears come. The last few hours had pulled me apart and rearranged me, and now I was trying to slide the pieces into place again, but they weren’t fitting the way they used to. And yet I couldn’t wish all of it away, because I had done it for Ben. For the man I loved. It had worked—I had this ancient magic in my little vault. Somewhere inside me lay enough pain to destroy people. To stop someone’s heart, like it had stopped Rose’s. Now I just had to carry it home, put it back in the relic, and give it to Brindle . . .

  We had to put it back in the relic. I had to do this all over again.

  I pushed that thought down a deep hole, because if I focused too closely on it, I knew I would break. With faltering hands, I yanked off the boots, then spent several minutes rolling on the bed, trying to undo the stupid knots Asa had tied at the back of the corset. By the time I succeeded in getting them undone, I was sweating and crying and aching. Something inside me felt like it had shifted and was teetering at the edge of a cliff, one stiff breeze from going over the edge. This wasn’t like the sloshy aquarium feeling I’d had in the first few transactions. This was fundamentally unsteady, hard and huge and threatening. Was that my emotional state? Or the magic? What would happen if it fell? What would happen when it hit bottom?

  I frowned and rubbed at my chest. “You’re a vault,” I whispered.

  What happened if the vault got dropped off a cliff? Asa said I had control . . . but what if I couldn’t hold on to it?

  “Stop.” I limped into the bathroom and rinsed myself off with cold water, not able to summon the energy to shampoo my hair. My limbs were leaden with exhaustion, and I had no idea when Asa would be back, banging on my door and telling me to get my little legs moving. I needed to sleep. I needed to stop thinking.

  Especially about him.

  I nearly wept with gratitude when I walked back into the room and saw that Asa had laid a small bag with a toothbrush and toothpaste next to my clothes. After brushing my teeth and pulling on the T-shirt and shorts, I crawled beneath my covers and focused on Ben. I imagined sitting with him on our cozy deck, looking out on our backyard bursting with summer blossoms. I’d lean against him, and he’d put his arm around me. We’d argue about what to name our first baby. It would be easy and clean and right.

  Or . . . it would have been.

  Should I tell Ben what had happened? Didn’t I owe him honesty? I’d demanded it in the aftermath of his cover-up of what was really going on with him, so how could I possibly keep things from him with a clear conscience? But if I told him—if I told him everything—it would cut him deep. I’d never thought of the truth as a knife, but now I knew it was, able to sever muscle from bone, heart from heart. What had once been simple and right was tainted, and I couldn’t figure out if everything I’d done had been necessary, or if I had gone off the rails somehow.

  I drew my knees to my chest, wishing this strange, unstable feeling would go away. Wishing for strong arms around me, a gentle voice in my ear that would tell me things were going to be okay. But I was alone in this mess, and somehow I had to push through.

  I pressed my head into the pillow and cried myself to sleep.

  I bolted upright, my heart galloping, my breaths coming in sharp, strangled gasps. I put my hand to my chest, where the stab of pain was still fading. Terror pulled me out of bed. My ears rang with it. My blood pounded in my skull. I couldn’t think. I could only act. I ran for the door. I had no idea what Asa’s room number was, but I was going to bang on every door on the fourth floor until he answered.

  I burst into the hallway, turned for the stairwell, and tripped over a pair of long legs. I glimpsed a toolbox and duffel sitting against the wall as Asa caught me in his arms. He’d been sitting on the floor next to my door. He’d changed into a T-shirt and cargo shorts, with Converse sneakers on his feet. “Whoa, there,” he said in a groggy voice.

  “I think it’s coming out,” I said, my voice cracking.

  “What?” He guided me to my feet and held me by my upper arms.

  “The magic. I felt a . . . a stabbing?” I couldn’t slow down my breathing, and my body was tingling. My lips had gone numb.

  Asa’s brow furrowed, and he stuck his hand beneath the loose collar of my shirt. “Shh,” he said as I struggled, needing to run, needing to flee and never stop, because something terrifying was chasing me, and it was about to sink its teeth in. “Mattie, hold still. I just need to feel it.”

  But I couldn’t. My heart felt as if it were about to explode. “It’s leaking out, isn’t it? All that Strikon magic—” And when it hit, it would tear me apart from the inside out.

  Asa wrapped his arm around my waist and wrestled me into my room, then pushed me against the wall, pinning me there. “Dammit. Stay still, Mattie. Stop.”

  “Please please please—”

  He clamped his hand over my mouth and bowed his head, tucking his hand beneath the hem of my shirt this time. His calloused palm pressed against my ribs. His whole body was jammed against mine, just trying to hold me still. He was shaking with the effort, or maybe with trying to concentrate despite my desperate thrashing. But a moment later, he raised his head. “It’s not leaking. I think you’re having a panic attack.”

  “No, that’s not it,” I said between creaky gasps for air.

  “Mattie, you are so strong. I can barely feel this magic inside you, and if it was somehow trickling out, I would definitely know. When it was in the relic, I felt sick, like it was eating my bones the longer I was close to it.” He took my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. “But now that it’s in you, all of that is gone. I can barely feel it at all. That’s how strong you are.”

  “But I can’t hold it. It’s going to break inside me. I know it. I can feel it. It’s going to kill me.”

  “Then you have to focus on containing it. You have to relax and let your mind rest. Let your body do its thing.”

  “I can’t!” My mind was reeling. Guilt or necessity, honesty or a lie to protect the innocent, the way I knew I would never be the same, the forbidden thoughts I couldn’t even admit I was having. It was all in my skull, jangling around. “I can’t turn it off. Everything that happened, everything I did—”

  “What did you do?”

  I closed my eyes because he wouldn’t let me turn my head. “You know. You saw me.”

  “Really? I thought that was Eve,” he said gently.

  “Eve,” I whispered. And I remembered letting Mattie go, putting her away just so I could get through everything. Eve had given herself to Asa. Eve had submitted and let him be in control. And he had accepted her submission, because he was strong enough, because he knew what to do, and because he was the only one who could do it.

  I desperately needed him to do it right now. I couldn’t carry the burden of guilt and sorrow and loss and shame for another second. “Asa?” I sniffled and wiped at my wet cheek. “Can I . . .” I let out a hitching breath. “Can I be Eve right now?” I hazarded a glance at his face, not even sure he would know what I meant.

  He steppe
d back, allowing some space between us. “That’s what you want?”

  I nodded. “Only for a little while. I need . . .” My face crumpled. I needed help. I needed someone to take care of me. But accepting that from Asa felt so complicated now. He’d been right—putting this magic inside me was threatening to break me . . . just not in the way I’d imagined. “Can you just take over for a few hours? I’m so . . . I can’t. It’s too much.”

  He stared down at me, then let go of me and walked away. My throat tightened as he headed out the door. But he was back immediately, pulling his duffel and toolbox into the room. He came up with something in his hands, and spent a moment looking at it before turning around.

  It was the collar. “Come here,” he said quietly.

  I walked toward him on shaky legs.

  “Lift your hair.”

  I obeyed. “Thank you,” I said as he fastened it.

  “Thank you, what?”

  “Thank you, sir.” My breathing was already starting to slow.

  He looked down at me, his eyes shadowed with something I couldn’t translate. “Good girl, Eve. Now go over to the bed.”

  I walked to the bed, a trickle of fear sliding down my spine. What is he going to—

  He pulled the covers back. Then he kicked off his shoes. “Get in there.” He nodded at the mattress.

  I paused. Asa arched his eyebrow. “Yes, sir,” I said.

  I’d given him control. I’d decided to trust him. I would give what he demanded in return.

  I crawled onto the bed and felt the mattress dip with his weight as he joined me. He settled on his back and spread his arm out. “Now come here.”

  Hesitantly, I moved closer, edging over next to him as I inhaled his scent. Sometime in the last few hours, he’d taken a shower, even though he’d apparently decided to camp outside my room instead of sleep in his own bed.

  He’d been unwilling to leave me alone even when I’d thought that was what I needed.

  “Put your head on my shoulder,” he murmured, guiding me with his fingers in my hair, stroking my scalp.

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered.

  “You let me in,” he said, “and that means it’s just you and me now. Everything else stays outside the door. Every single thing. None of it gets inside, because I’m in here, and I won’t allow it.”

  I pressed my face to his shoulder and nodded.

  “So you’re not going to think,” he continued. “Not right now. And you’re not going to worry. Or plan. Got it, Eve?”

  “Yes, sir.” I snuggled into his side, keenly aware of the rub of the soft leather band around my throat. I was Eve, not Mattie. Mattie had been shed like a snake skin, sick and panicked and twisted up. Eve existed only in this moment, and she was simple. She was worn out and heavy with fatigue. I sighed, so thankful that my heart was no longer in my throat.

  “Good girl,” he whispered, reaching over to turn out the light. “That’s my good girl.” His arms tightened around me, and I laid my hand on his chest, where his heart beat strong and steady. “Now get some rest. I’ve got you.”

  “Yes, sir.” It came out on a slow breath as I relaxed completely, as my thoughts blanked out and I held on to him, letting him deliver me into dreamless sleep.

  Asa shook me awake. “Up, Mattie, get up. Right now.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Wake the fuck up. We have to get out.” He dragged me up and smacked lightly at my cheek.

  My eyes snapped open. “What’s happening?”

  “Get your shoes on.” Asa already had his duffel slung across his chest.

  I peered toward the window. It was still dark outside. But the look on Asa’s face—glittering eyes, sweaty brow—told me everything I needed to know. “They’ve found us.”

  Asa nodded and yanked on my hand, and I quickly slid my shoes onto my feet and followed him to the door. He opened it a crack and paused, then jerked his head to the left. “This way.” He jogged down the hallway toward the outer staircase. I ran after him, listening to the faint rattle of whatever was in his pockets. We stepped into the warm, humid night air and hurried down the staircase, but Asa stuck out his arm as we reached the ground, halting my forward momentum. From around the corner of the building, near the main entrance, came the sound of boots. Lots of them.

  “Headsmen?” I whispered.

  “Doubtful. Some of them have no juice.” Asa wiped his face on his sleeve. “But most of them are Strikon and Knedas.”

  I reached over and grabbed his hand, then pointed to the back of the hotel property, which was adjacent to that dense patch of tropical trees I’d seen on the way in. “Can we sneak through there?”

  Someone at the front of the building shouted, and the sound of footsteps headed our way.

  Asa answered by sprinting in the direction I’d pointed. He leaped across a muddy ditch, then grabbed my arm as my foot slipped when I landed. He pulled me into the darkness of the stubby, rough-barked trees. “No good, no good,” he muttered, glancing behind him, where there lay nothing but dense blackness. “Fuck, where are they?”

  He pulled me along the tree line, then paused and switched directions, whispering curses the whole time. It was clear he could feel danger in every direction. Finally, he stopped and took me by the shoulders. “Mattie, they’re looking for me. They don’t know what you can do. What you are.” He glanced at the collar, still around my neck, and his jaw clenched. “That means you can get out. I want you to—”

  “Want her to what?” asked a quiet voice from the darkness.

  I turned to see Daeng step from behind a tree, his face shining with sweat in the lights from the parking lot. He had a gun in one hand, aimed at Asa. With the other, he pulled a beaded necklace over his head and quickly tossed it at Asa’s feet.

  Asa leaped back and kicked the thing away. “Dirty trick, asshole.”

  “Strikon is the easiest way to disguise the presence of other magic. Have you ever noticed that? You just have to be strong enough to bear it.” He took a step closer. “Or perhaps you know that already. Where is the relic?”

  “Gone,” said Asa. “Too hot to keep.”

  Daeng aimed his gun at my head. “Liar,” he said to Asa before looking at me. “My lovely friend. Mr. Johnson was just saying I didn’t know what you could do.” Daeng smiled, but it wasn’t the polite, slightly sad smile I’d seen earlier tonight. “I very much hope you’ll be willing to tell me, though.”

  “She can tie a knot in a cherry stem using just her tongue,” said Asa, his hand inching toward his pocket. “And she’s got a hell of a—”

  The blast of the weapon cut the night. Asa fell backward with a strangled groan, clutching at his thigh, which was instantly soaked with blood. I lunged for him, but Daeng threw his arm around my neck. He pulled me against him and spoke right in my ear. “That bullet just tore his femoral artery, Mattie. He has about three minutes to live.”

  I let out a choked sob, staring at Asa, who was shaking and gasping and cursing as he tried to put pressure on his wound. The rapid pat-pat-pat of blood dripping to the leaves beneath him sounded like rainfall. “Asa,” I mouthed. Horror had stolen my voice.

  “I have the magic to heal him right here.” Daeng guided my hand to a hard lump in the pocket of his shirt. “An Ekstazo relic.” He squeezed my hand in his clammy grip. “Tell me where you put the relic you stole, and it’s yours. Otherwise, we will both watch him die.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I turned toward Daeng. “I have it.”

  “Mattie, don’t,” Asa said, his voice wretched with pain.

  Daeng’s eyes narrowed. “Where?”

  “It’s inside me.”

  Asa groaned. “Mattie . . .”

  “One more word and I’ll shoot you again,” Daeng murmured, but his attention was all reserved for me. “You’re lying. The relic contained the most powerful Strikon magic in the world. I would know if it were near.”

  I took a quick step closer to him, and he raised
the gun, aiming it at the side of my head as we stood inches apart. My breaths were sharp and shallow. I could hear Asa suffering only feet behind me, and the sound made my heart feel like it had been stuffed with dynamite.

  “Touch my chest and focus,” I said to Daeng. “That’s the only way you’ll feel it. And if you shoot me, that magic dies with me, right? You want to risk that?”

  Daeng released my hand, looking conflicted.

  “I’m telling you exactly where it is, just like you asked,” I hissed. “Why the hell do you think I would be traveling with Mr. Johnson if I weren’t his reliquary?” The seconds were ticking down, each one winding my desperation and hatred tighter.

  He lowered the gun to his side and shoved his clammy hand up my shirt. I guided it between my breasts, glancing down to make sure that gun was aimed away from me. “You can feel it,” I said quietly, releasing his hand.

  As soon as I did, Daeng’s hand shifted and closed over one of my breasts, squeezing painfully and making my teeth clench. He bowed his head and let out a shuddering breath. “Oh, there it is . . .”

  “Yep, there it is.” And then I finally made use of that self-defense class I’d taken as a college freshman. I looped my arms around his neck and slammed my knee into his crotch.

  Daeng yelped and pitched against me as I shoved and pushed to keep his gun aimed away from me. His scrabbling hand scraped down my stomach, and I frantically brought my knee up again and again, not sure if the little screams I heard were coming from him or me. The gun fell to the ground, and I kicked blindly until I made contact. It skittered across the leaves and splashed into the ditch. I scratched at Daeng’s eyes and he tripped, falling to the ground. I jammed my fingers into his chest pocket and came up holding a small figurine—the relic Asa needed. Daeng grabbed for me, but I scooted backward, jabbing my foot into his face and landing a lucky shot. He grunted and rolled onto his back, blood gushing from his nose, and I dove for Asa, who was weakly clutching at his thigh.