“There were too many of them,” Asher said. “I thought about pushing through to the cottage and the last page, but we almost lost Addison back there, so I came here instead.”
I wobbled up to my feet and pulled on Asher’s shirt. “Come on, is the car nearby?”
Holding his stomach, he curled over onto his hands and knees. A few moans helped him to his feet, his eyes a haunting brightness in the dimness. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Oh.” I frowned, expecting sarcasm or an ass-ripping for having touched him, but he just waited patiently for me to answer. I would never understand that guy. “My arm’s frostbitten, but nothing big. You?”
“I broke a woman’s fall with my body. Why wouldn’t I be fine?” Laughter in his tone, rich and lovely.
“I’m all right,” Caine said, brushing off his pants. “Your concern for me is heartwarming.”
Without a clue what to do with Asher and his turn-on-a-dime mood, I looked Caine over and wiped at a smear of oil from his cheek, only managing to widen the smudge. I smiled, imagining him in studded leather armor wielding a sword. Weird. “That’s better. A little war paint to set the mood.”
He leaned in and kissed my cheek under my eye. “Thank you.”
I resisted the urge to wipe that kiss off. I frowned harder and had a better look around since my eyes had adjusted to the lighting. “Is this the car? Please tell me this is it.”
“Yes,” Asher said. “Not a bad landing considering I was running the gauntlet, huh?” He opened the garage door and sunlight streamed in.
He never thanked me for anything, but just because I needed to be like him during a hunt, it didn’t mean I had to forgo basic manners. “Thanks for getting us out of there.”
A pause, and then, “You’re welcome.” He sounded surprised.
When I focused on the Honda Civic in the corner, one of my brain ghosts leaped free.
The faceless man leaning against a silver hatchback dressed in black, a dangerous dream waiting for me. His arms clamping me to his body in the backseat while I straddled him.
Something crashed. I must have been backing up, because I stumbled over a pile of old metal gas cans. The emotions were so mixed up, fear and lust, I couldn’t make sense out of what I’d seen. If the man had loved me in my former life, why would I have been afraid of him?
“What’s wrong?” Asher rushed to me, reaching out, but I scrambled away.
“Nothing. Let’s get out of here before they find us again.” Avoiding his gaze, I marched to the car and got into the passenger side.
The other door opened, and he dropped into the driver’s seat. Caine got in the back.
Before Asher could unleash the questions I could see brewing in that head of his, I asked, “What’s to stop a wraith from coming through the veil in this car?”
Brows drawn down, he turned toward me, but when I huddled against the window, he started the car and drove out into the sunlight. “If you could call my power, you might be able to put up the grid inside the car like you did at the museum.”
“I’m still blocked,” I said. “Sorry.”
Caine leaned forward and put his hand on my shoulder. “Let me call your power and put up the grid.”
I turned and glared at him. “If you could do that, we could have taken the train.”
He gave me a knowing grin I didn’t understand. “Izan wants us to go this way, so we’ll go this way. You can take up your complaint with him.”
Silence erected a brick wall in the car.
“It’s up to you, Addison,” Asher said. Why did he have to keep saying my name? Every time, it hit me like music I wanted to sway to. While in his arms. Gak. Good job on the letting him go thing, idiot.
I wanted to see what Asher’s expression revealed, but my inner chicken reared her head again. I didn’t want to share power with Caine, but what choice did we have? “Okay,” I said. “Just do it, but pull any moves on me, and I’ll hit you.”
Why was Asher being so reasonable? I’d rather he acted like an asshole. At least I knew what to do with that, and I didn’t feel so guilty all the time.
It felt all wrong when Caine’s energy hit me like a baseball bat, but after a while, I let mine out to meet him. Our mingled energy crisscrossed over the interior, but not as bright as I expected it to be, and nothing hit me down in the soul where it should if we were compatible conduits. Maybe Caine was holding back?
“I figured we’d cross at Calais, which is north of here,” Asher said.
“Yeah, that’ll work,” Caine said.
Asher didn’t take his gaze from me. “Are you feeling the pull of the page even now?”
“I’d almost forgotten about that thread trying to pull my brain out of my skull. Thanks so much for bringing it to my attention again.” Rubbing at my sore forehead, I pointed out the left of the windshield and asked, “Is that way north?”
“Generally, yes.”
“Then we’re going the right way.”
Caine drummed a tune on his knees. “Uh…it doesn’t really matter, since I’ve been to that cottage before. In fact, it’s where I’ve been living for the last decade.”
Both Asher and I turned to glare at him. “You’ve had a page in your possession all along and you didn’t think to mention it, or that you owned the place?” Asher asked.
Caine lifted a shoulder. “I’d no idea I had one until Addison was doing her search earlier, and we’ve been rather busy, so I haven’t had a chance to bring it up. I’ve often wondered why I spent five hundred bloody quid on that book at an auction for no good reason. Another of Izan’s urges, no doubt.”
We drove in silence for a long time, until the congestion began to lighten up and urban gave way to more rural landscapes. Soft snoring came from the backseat, Caine having dropped off to sleep. How could anyone sleep at a time like this? Was he not at all worried that life might end if I didn’t get my act together?
Asher shifted in his seat for the millionth time, and I blurted, “What do you suppose will happen when we reassemble the book? Because something happened to me when I put in the other pages, like it wants to show me something.”
He gave me the flaming eyeball before focusing back on the road. “Even while missing pages, the book changes us. From the moment its soul inhabited you, the higher functions we’re all capable of became active, and for you probably more than the rest of us. I have no way of knowing what will happen once it’s complete, but whatever it is, you’ll be the one it happens to.”
The book had a soul? Maybe that reassembled soul, along with finding my Shepherd, was the key to beating Baku? “What else can I do that I didn’t even realize I could? Can I fly? Hold my breath for a year? What?” The possibilities were endless. “Maybe my storm feels stronger than before because of the pages we’ve already put back in?” No, that couldn’t be right or I should have changed even more with the four I’d inserted recently, and I hadn’t noticed anything other than the flashes from the book.
His laughter curled around me, and I had to cough to keep my own from spilling out. It faded, and he turned his knees slightly toward me. “I don’t know, but whatever happens will be okay. Now that you’re finally sounding more like yourself, tell me why you’ve been so upset today. No judgment, no lectures. I can’t stand seeing you like this for a second longer.”
“I’m not upset,” I cracked out too fast before turning my face toward the side window again.
“Uh-huh. Then tell me why you’ve barely looked at me all day and why venom comes out with every word.”
I laughed, high and full of razors, letting my inner cold creep into my eyes before I pointed them at him. “Oh my God, really? I’ll tell you what.” I counted on my fingers as I made my list. “You tell me why you’ve barely looked at me since I woke up in the infirmary three weeks ago, why you were all bent over and upset after I got stabbed, how you know my eating schedule, what you have in your pocket, why I could feel your storm for a split second back a
t the Louvre when normally I feel nothing from you, why you were so distraught last night when Baku attacked me, and I’ll think about answering you.”
When he became intensely interested in the road, I crossed my arms and laid my seat back, closing my eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now back to Baku-the-Creepy. Do you really think I could merge the realities? I wouldn’t have a clue how to even find them, let alone collapse them into one.” Then again, maybe I didn’t need to know how. If Baku knew how to do it, I only had to give him the firepower through the Machine. I didn’t understand how emotion alone could be used that way. Maybe Izan’s energy concentrated and changed it somehow, or maybe whatever magic mojo he put in us when we were earmarked for the Machine made it possible.
Asher exhaled hard enough it seemed to roar into the car. Relieved much? “I think we’ve barely begun to see what you can do. When the time comes, you’ll be ready.”
I righted myself again, feeling like a coward for hugging the window. “Do you really believe that? I mean…he’s waited thousands of years to get his family back, so he won’t have left anything to chance. I’m sure he knows Izan has no intention of letting us help him. Even if I am ready, I have no idea what to expect. Will it be a physical fight? Or will it be some sort of metaphysical tug-of-war, winner takes all? Caine said the other battles ended bloody.”
“The physical fight will come first when you deny him. I think he’ll try to possess you, and you have to be strong enough to keep him out.”
“Or maybe he’s not relying on strength of arms, here. Maybe he really thinks he can convince me to do what he wants. That’s nuts, of course, but…oh hell, I don’t know.” What Izan had told me about the sanctuary weighed on my mind, and after checking in the back to make sure Caine was still asleep, I said, “You need to give me my memories back.”
“I told you, it takes energy I can’t afford right now.” He strangled the steering wheel. What was his problem now? Had he made me forget more than he was supposed to? I considered demanding that he lift the foggy spots out of my mind, but my inner chicken was pretty sure she didn’t want to know what might be in there. Had I done something stupid and someone I cared about had died? No, I so wasn’t going there, feeling horrible about something that probably never happened.
“Fine, then you need to tell me if there’s a place from my past you might call a sanctuary. Knowing Izan, it could mean anything from a church to a small cave or even a tree house that only I know how to get to.”
He straightened, lips parting for seconds before he spoke. “Why do you need to know?”
“Because I have to get Baku there and lock him inside it.”
He nodded lightly as if sorting through his thoughts. “You never went to church, and other than your house, you spent most of your time at a friend’s house or by the river.”
“Do you suppose it’s the house I grew up in?”
“I don’t know, maybe, but I know the way there, and so did your father, which would rule it out. Once we get this last page, we’ll all put our heads together and figure it out, okay?”
I almost reached for him, but tucked my hands under my thighs instead. “Yeah, thanks. Let’s keep it between us for now until we know what it means.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Caine and back at me. “You don’t trust him?”
I shrugged. “I do, but…I don’t know, I have a feeling what we find out is going to be bad news for me, and I don’t want too many people staring at me with pity.”
The tires squealed, and the car swerved.
I grabbed the door handle, choking on my heart. “What the hell was that?”
He swallowed. “Why do you think it’ll be bad news for you? Because of what Izan said about the sacrifice? Because I told you I’d get you to this fight and back home again, and I meant it.”
“And what if you can’t?”
The heel of his hand smashed down on the steering wheel. “I can, and I will.” The fire went out of his voice as he added, “I need…the Machine needs its Architect. We don’t function without you, so if Izan wants us to protect ourselves long-term, he’s planning on you surviving.”
Relief hit me like a cool rain. “That actually makes a lot of sense. When he said there had to be a sacrifice, I just assumed the worst.” My stomach chose that moment to growl.
His posture cleared of potential violence, and his lips twitched. “There are some croissants in the bag in the back. You’d better feed that beast of yours before you start chewing on your pants.”
“Yeah, you’re super funny,” I said, my voice breathy with confusion. Rolling my eyes to hide my inner turmoil, I cranked around in my seat, unzipped the duffel quietly so I wouldn’t disturb Caine, and snatched out one of the paper bags.
I unfolded the bag. My mouth watered, and my stomach growled harder. The scent that hit me stirred a twinge in my belly. It wasn’t a sad twinge but full of joy and giddiness. Pastries could not affect me that way. I pulled out one of the croissants and offered it to him.
“No thanks. I got them for you.” He smiled. My chest did not seize up because he looked so dark-god-of-war when he smiled. I was just tired. “Your grandfather used to take you to Tim Hortons every Sunday morning while he was alive. You always got a croissant with butter and a hot chocolate, and he told you stories about when your dad was a child. It was your favorite day of the week.”
My eyes burned. Why was he stirring up a past I couldn’t remember and that he wouldn’t give back to me? I returned the pastry to the bag and tossed it onto the floor at my feet while I thought myself out of crying like a total Nancy. I had to be stronger than this. If I couldn’t handle something so minor as a memory, how was I supposed to save the world from the big and bad?
Asher groaned. “What did I say now?”
“Nothing. I don’t feel like stuffing my face with an artery-clogging pastry. What else have we got to eat?”
He leaned across me, his elbow in my lap. My belly did not tighten. Zings did not march in a merry parade up my thighs. Nope, just losing my mind. He was taken. Suffering to protect his love from whatever his premonitions showed him.
From the glove box, he withdrew a Snickers bar, sat up, and offered it to me. “I forgot I put these in here.” His lips curved in a whimsical smile. “You used to beg your dad for these when you were little. He didn’t let you have sweets often, only on special occasions. After a while, I think your puppy-dog eyes got to him, because he started inventing reasons he could give you one. You’d take it under a blanket with your flashlight while you read through your mother’s books. Take it.” He thrust it at me again.
I could feel the color drain out of my face as I turned to glare at him. “You refuse to give me back my memories, so stop tormenting me with them. It’s cruel.” Whispers-in-the-dark. I’d finally gotten it right.
His brow creased, and he squinted at me. I’d confused him, great. “I’m trying to remind you who you are, because you seemed to have forgotten all of a sudden.”
“And who might that be?” I tossed up my hand. “A plaid-loving, small-town redneck with a bleeding heart? Because I’m not her anymore, just like you wanted. I’m trying to make the best of Izan’s apparent mistake, so suffer through this job with me and shut the bloody hell up about my personal junk.”
His lips parted, and he stuttered twice before saying, “Christ. You heard me talking to Remy.”
“You’re a genius as well as delusional. Nice one second. Jerk the next. Would the real Asher Green please stand up? I’m beginning to think Izan is playing a practical joke on me. Or he hates me, one or the other. Maybe Baku was right about him, that he’s screwing with me, with all of us, and I should collapse the realities like Baku wants and take our chances with the other worlds.”
“Don’t say that.” His fingers ghosted with his stranglehold on the steering wheel. “How much of that conversation did you hear?” His voice held nothing. How much nasty crap had he said about me?
&nbs
p; “Enough.”
“I didn’t mean you were a mistake the way you clearly took it.”
“Oh yeah? I’m all a-jitter. Please enlighten me.”
Many seconds passed before he spoke in that same flat tone. “I meant that you don’t belong in the Machine.”
“Well, that clears it right up.”
He pulled the car over and turned to face me, his eyes open and honest the way they never were. “You had a chance at a good life when none of the others, including me, did. I hate Izan with every fiber of my being for dragging you into this, and if it were within my power, I’d return you to your cabin in the woods with your father where you could have been happy. I never thought you were a mistake—it was a poor choice of words when I was confused and angry after you almost died before my eyes again in the training room—and I’m sorry I said it. Now, please go back to being my Addison, because I need you.” Tilting his head away, he righted himself and drove back onto the road. “We all do.”
Out of everything he’d said, his calling me “my Addison” roared the loudest inside my ears. I thought of the way he’d carried me back to my room the other night, and the way he’d come to my rescue with the Colonel. Had he undressed me after I’d passed out? Had he been taking care of me even though I couldn’t see him, watching me through the Shift, and that was how he knew my meal schedule and that I hadn’t been sleeping? Did that mean…what?
That he needed an Architect to protect her. Right. That little tidbit kept falling through my mental cracks, apparently. At least he didn’t think I was a mistake, and a few tons slid off my shoulders.
I curled on my side away from him, my mind waffling between bawling and screaming out my anger. Concentrating on my mom out there in danger, and on the page that tugged on my forehead so hard my neck hurt, kept my mind from spiraling out of control into the Asher-abyss.
How sad was it that I’d rather have faced Baku than be stuck in a car with the mysterious Asher Green?
Midnight Dawn Page 22
