Reliquary (Reliquary Series Book 1)

by Sarah Fine

  I refused to let myself think of Asa.

  I wondered if the lingering shard of pain inside my chest would ever go away, or if it was just the mark magic had left on me, how it had changed me.

  A few days after the media circus died down, I went to visit Grandpa. I’d tried to steer clear of my parents’ house, because I didn’t want the stress of the news trucks and the reporters on the lawn to affect him. He was in his bed in the library when I arrived, and he smiled and stretched out a frail, shaking hand as I approached. I took it in mine. “I told you I would come back,” I said quietly, my throat already going tight.

  “That’s some story you’re telling,” he said weakly as I pulled a chair over and sat at his bedside.

  “It’s more believable than the truth.” I bit my lip as I took in his sunken cheeks and sagging skin. “I met someone you used to know. Jack?”

  His eyes lit up. “You met Jack! How is he?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “We wouldn’t have gotten Ben back without him.”

  The light in his eyes faded as he took in the look on my face. “Don’t tell me. Not today.”

  I nodded and lowered my head to the bed rail. I wanted to tell him everything that had happened. He was the only one who understood. But maybe it was just something I needed to let go.

  “Now that you know what you can do,” he said after a few minutes of heavy silence, “will you go into the business?”

  I shook my head. “I turned down a job, actually.” Frank had taken it with a jovial smile and told me the offer would stand if I ever changed my mind. “I belong here.”

  Grandpa looked me over with surprise. “Are you sure?”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  “Then at the very least, you be proud of who you really are, and what you’re capable of.”

  A smile found its way to my lips. “I guess I can do some pretty cool stuff.” Not all of it was about magic, either. I had survived. I had fought. And I’d won. “I’m actually kind of a badass, now that I think about it.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” Grandpa patted my hand. “But I’m so glad you’re home safe. I was afraid . . .” He looked away, directing his gaze at my father’s collection of travel magazines.

  He was afraid I wouldn’t make it home before he died. We hadn’t made it back in time for Barley, after all. Ben’s golden had died quietly in his sleep a few days before we made it home, in this very room. We’d missed our last days with him. I was so glad the same hadn’t happened with Grandpa.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said, my voice thinned by sorrow. A shuffling in the doorway made me turn my head. Ben was standing there, waiting for me. I’d told him to come pick me up at six, and it was nearly half past. “I’ll be back tomorrow, all right?”

  Grandpa nodded, and I rose and kissed his cool forehead before moving to Ben’s side.

  “You okay?” he murmured, putting his arm around me as we walked to his RAV4 in the driveway.

  I nodded. “I just feel bad for the stress all this has caused him.”

  Ben sighed and ran his hand through his sandy hair. “The stress I caused, you mean.”

  I turned to him as I heard the hurt in his voice. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not blaming you.”

  His eyes met mine. “But shouldn’t you?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  He put the car into gear and turned onto the street. “I want you to come back to me, Mattie. It feels like you haven’t yet.”

  I watched the scenery go by as he made the short drive back to our little cottage. As he pulled into the drive, I looked up at the house that I’d decorated with all my fantasies of how my life would be. “I’m trying.” I got out before he could open my door for me and headed up the steps.

  “Mattie, talk to me,” he pleaded as we reached the entryway. “I can’t live like this.”

  He took my face in his hands and tilted my head up. I focused my gaze on the round edge of his jaw. “I’m sorry,” he said with a bitter laugh. “I should be thanking you, not asking you for more.” He touched his forehead to mine. “Please look at me, Mattie.”

  I forced myself to look into his eyes, my chest aching at the sight of their honey color. His smile was pained. “I betrayed you,” he said quietly. “I violated your trust. And instead of leaving me, you saved me. You traveled halfway around the world for me. I have no idea what kind of danger you were in, but I know it must have been terrifying, and I know you did it because you love me. I don’t deserve you.”

  Ben doesn’t deserve you. I pulled out of Ben’s grasp, desperate to escape Asa’s voice in my head. “You made mistakes,” I murmured. “I’ve made plenty of my own. I just . . . I want to forget about all of that.”

  Ben stared at me, the surprise evident on his face. “Shouldn’t we talk about what I did?”

  If we do, will we have to talk about what I did? It was the last thing I wanted to do. “Maybe we should just let it go and move on.”

  “I can’t.”

  I looked up at him. “I’m offering you a free pass, and you’re not going to take it?”

  He shook his head. “Not if it means we’re going to be like this. Two strangers in the same house. I want what we had before, Mattie. It was magical.”

  I flinched, and he cursed. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, then reached out to take me by the arms. “I just meant that what we had was amazing, and I think we could rebuild it if you’ll allow it.”

  I leaned on his chest, inhaling his familiar, clean scent. “I want to, Ben. It’s just . . . a lot, all right?”

  Ben’s grip tightened. “Does any of it have to do with my brother?”

  I tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “I shouldn’t have ever let you travel with him. I can’t imagine how he treated you. The places he dragged you into. What he made you do.”

  “He did it all to save you,” I said slowly. “Do you have any idea what he risked to get you back?”

  Ben bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Someday, you need to thank him. And I think you should apologize to him, too.” I ran my finger down the straight slope of his nose.

  Ben’s cheeks darkened. “He told you.”

  I nodded. “You hurt him more than he’ll ever tell you.”

  “I didn’t want to,” he whispered. “My dad . . .”

  “I know. He told me that, too.”

  “Dad was trying to protect me,” Ben said. “He was tough, but that’s all he ever wanted to do.”

  “Maybe he should have protected Asa, too.”

  Ben shrugged. “Maybe he tried. I don’t really know. Asa never was easy. You have to know that, Mattie. He pushed Dad pretty hard.”

  “No, Asa’s not easy.” I opened my mouth to say more, about how Asa was the easiest person to misjudge I had ever met. At first glance he was mercenary and rude, callous and arrogant. But the longer you looked at him, the more you could see who he really was, the person he’d managed to become against all the odds. That person was scary and complicated and deadly . . . but also brave and decent and compassionate, even when he wasn’t willing to admit it to himself. There were so many things I wanted to say about Asa, but the more I allowed his quietly thoughtful gestures and protectiveness to float into my conscious thoughts, the more my chest hurt. So I settled for “I actually don’t think you know him at all, Ben.”

  He nodded, still staring at the ground. “Maybe that’s true.” He raised his head. “But I know I owe him my life. And I owe it to you, too.” He pulled me close, and his eyes were shining with tears. “Will you let me spend the rest of it paying you back?”

  I’d already made the choice. I’d made it in a corridor in an abandoned mall, when I’d closed my eyes so I didn’t have to watch Asa walk away from me. “Yes,” I whispered.

  Ben let out a choked laugh. “Thank you,” he said, lowering his head to kiss me.

  I welcomed it. I needed it. Nothin
g else could erase the memories that slipped across my skin, an echo of sensations past, forbidden and confusing. I held on tight as Ben lifted me up and carried me into our bedroom. With fierce urgency, I undressed him, needing the sight of his muscular body, the weight of him pressing me into the bed. I paused to run my hand over the scar where his pacemaker had been removed. In all the chaos, lost in my own stormy sea of emotion, I’d completely forgotten about it. “Oh my God! We have to get you to the doctor,” I said. “I can’t believe you haven’t already done that.”

  Ben smiled and shook his head, holding my palm over the scar. “I’m healed, Mattie,” he said quietly. “Forever.”

  I blinked up at him. “What?”

  He grinned as he pulled my shirt over my head and deftly unhooked my bra. “Frank let me have that relic. I won’t ever need a pacemaker again.”

  I lifted my hips to allow him to unzip my skirt and slide it off. “But I thought he would only give it to you in return for Asa joining him.”

  Ben shook his head, his eyes focused on my body as he pulled my panties down my legs. Then his gaze met mine. “He said you had risked so much to bring him the relic that it was the least he could do.”

  My brow furrowed. “Really? That’s kind of hard to believe.”

  “I know, but I wasn’t going to say no.” He began to kiss his way up my stomach and parted my thighs. “So I owe you my heart, too. But it was already yours.”

  I ran my hands up his strong back as he pushed himself into me, as we moved together. Our familiar rhythm was comforting, and I focused on it, using it to pull up the simple, easy memories of how it used to be, how we both wanted it to be again. It would take some time, but I knew we could find our way back. We were too good together not to. We were perfect for each other.

  Always had been.

  Always would be.

  I repeated that to myself over and over until it felt automatic. I fell asleep in his arms, our naked bodies pressed together, my head on Ben’s chest, clinging desperately to the normal, predictable safeness of our life, of him, of us.

  The pain wrenched me to the surface of my easy dreams, though. I sat up, my heart hammering, each beat feeling like the slice of a scalpel. Ben was sacked out next to me, moonlight on his handsome face. Still dreaming.

  I pulled a blanket around me and headed to the backyard, where he wouldn’t be able to hear the little squeaks of my breath. Panic attack, Asa had called it. That must be what this was. I sank down on a lounger, bundled in my blanket in the cool summer-night air, and stared up at the stars, concentrating on slowing down my breathing. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, and I fought like hell to hold them in.

  I tried not to wish for that angular face to appear above mine, crooked nose and dark hair, belonging to a man who was ready to chase away anything that threatened me. I had sent him away, because the alternative was totally unthinkable. Unmanageable. Ridiculous. It made no sense at all.

  That didn’t change how much I missed him.

  “Dammit, Asa,” I whispered, running my fingers across my throat.

  I stayed out there for a long time, building a fence around my memories of him. He didn’t ever want to be in a cage, but in my head, there was no other safe place to keep him. So I built the walls high, with razor wire along the top, trapping him along with everything else in the strange world of magic I had discovered. It didn’t fit with the future I’d chosen.

  By the time I was finished, the needle of pain in my chest had dulled to an ache. My breathing had slowed, and my tears had dried. Once I’d contained my sadness at what I’d lost, gratitude—for having experienced it at all, and for the man who’d gotten me through all of it—had welled up in its place. We weren’t headed in the same direction, but I would always be glad our paths had crossed. And as the sun glowed weakly at the tree line, preparing to emerge and dominate the day, I got up and headed back inside.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First and foremost, I want to thank the folks at 47North, particularly Jason Kirk, who advocated for Reliquary from the outset, along with Courtney Miller, Ben Smith, Britt Rogers, and the rest of this energetic, creative team. To Leslie Miller, my developmental editor, I am especially grateful. Lam, your patience and willingness to listen made all the difference. I’d also like to thank Janice Lee, my copyeditor, for her keen eye and precision, as well as Phyllis DeBlanche for proofreading, and Faceout Studio for their cover design.

  To Kathleen Ortiz, my fierce and attentive agent, thank you for understanding my radio silence and diverting traffic when necessary. Gaby Salpeter, my assistant, gets a big virtual hug for operating as my frontal lobes as needed. And to New Leaf Literary & Media—thank you for providing all manner of auxiliary support.

  Writing Reliquary was both exhilarating and therapeutic, and I owe gratitude to Amber Lynn Natusch and Brigid Kemmerer for excellent early feedback and cheerleading. To Brigid and Lydia Kang, thanks as well for simple friendship and hours of listening. I couldn’t have made it through without your validation and screaming goat GIFs.

  Thanks to my other friends, Paul and Liz, Jim (who also gave useful critical feedback about a certain scene) and Susanne, Sue and Craig, and Claudine, for providing refuge when needed and laughter, love, and reality checks at all times. A thousand thank-yous to my parents, Jerry and Julie Fine, for providing unconditional support 24/7/365, without judgment and with absolute ferocity. Of course, hugs to my babies, Asher and Alma, for simply existing and being the reason I persist.

  And to my readers—this is all your fault, and I can’t possibly thank you enough.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2012 Rebecca Skinner

  Sarah Fine is a clinical psychologist and the author of the Servants of Fate and Guards of the Shadowlands series. She was born on the West Coast, was raised in the Midwest, and is now firmly entrenched on the East Coast.