Linked (The Shadow Chronicles Book 2)

by K. R. Fajardo

“Jaron, are you all right?” she asked, shaking his body in an attempt to rouse him.

  But no matter how hard she tried, he wouldn’t stir. Resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to awaken him, she instead concentrated her efforts on trying to adjust his large contorted frame into a more comfortable looking position. He was battered ten times worse than he had been after the exhibition match that morning. A busted eyebrow had covered the whole side of his face and head with blood, several dark bruises were beginning to appear across his face and when she lifted his shirt, Citera noted several more springing up on his torso as well.

  “Jaron, answer me please,” Citera pleaded. She grabbed a rag off the floor nearby and applied it to the gash on his head in an attempt to slow the river of blood still pouring from it. I need to get help, Citera thought, but how?

  She didn’t want to leave him here still losing blood, but she was in over her head and needed to go fetch someone who could help. Her father was most likely already back on the other side of camp at their tent trying to figure out why she wasn’t there. As for Dirik, she never knew where he was. Janil! Her tent was only a few more feet down the path, right on the edge of the housing area. It would be easy to run there and get her without leaving Jaron alone for too long.

  Quickly she searched the tent for something to hold the bandage in place. She came across a leather strap on the floor not far away and arranged it to cover the eye and the still bleeding gash as best she could before taking off in a full run out of the tent. She ran as hard as she could, ignoring her aching legs and burning chest, as she wound her way down the path, at one point nearly knocking over a couple having a lovely late night stroll as she dashed past.

  Coming up to Janil’s tent she didn’t hesitate as she busted inside, catching both Janil and Gabriel completely off guard in the middle of their evening meal. “Citera, by the stars what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be home with your father?”

  “Janil, I am so sorry,” Citera said, rushing to the other side of the tent and grabbing Janil’s medical bag, “but Jaron needs your help.”

  “Jaron? He knows more about medicine than I do, surely he can handle whatever issue has come up. I just got home and was about to eat.”

  “No,” Citera said pleading as she grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the flap, “he is the one hurt, I can’t get him to wake up.”

  Upon hearing this Gabriel jumped to his feet. “I’m coming with you.”

  Seeing her husband ready to join the trip, Janil agreed and together they returned to Jaron’s tent. With Gabriel’s help the three of them managed to drag Jaron off the floor and onto the bed, then he and Janil went to work. They surveyed the damage, looking him over from top to bottom, before removing Citera’s make shift bandage.

  Looking at the gaping hole, Gabriel flinched. “Who did this to him?”

  “I don’t know,” Citera lied. “I was walking by and wanted to apologize for something that happened in the Core earlier, and when I came inside he was like this.”

  Janil eyeballed her suspiciously. “There are very few, maybe even only one person, who could get the better of Jaron this way. You wouldn’t be holding out on us, would you?”

  Citera shook her head, unconvincingly. Meanwhile, Gabriel prepared a suture kit to sew closed the gash. He worked with swift and steady hands, and was almost halfway done when Jaron suddenly sat straight up in the bed, pulling the needle from Gabriel’s grasp.

  “What are all of you doing in here?” Jaron asked, looking over each of their shocked faces. He then reached up and grabbed ahold of the needle dangling from his nearly completed eyebrow.

  “Don’t pull that,” Janil said quickly intervening, “and lay back down, he is almost done. You lost a great deal of blood from that gash and it needs to be stopped until you can heal.”

  Jaron, despite the fact he still appeared in shock at having a number of uninvited guests in his tent, surprisingly obeyed. He laid back down on the bed and Gabriel resumed his suturing.

  “You want to tell us who did this?” Gabriel asked cautiously.

  “I would rather not,” Jaron sighed. “Besides, I deserved it.”

  “I find it hard to believe you did anything to deserve all this,” Janil replied, glancing from him to Citera. “However, if the two of you don’t want to talk about it, that is your business.”

  Jaron followed Janil’s gaze to Citera and stared silently at her for several long moments. Citera, feeling uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny of his flat stare, dropped her gaze to the floor.

  “There, all done,” Gabriel said, breaking the unspoken tension. “Those should hold until you feed, then just get one of us or Mikel to pull them out.”

  “Thanks,” Jaron muttered, sitting up and touching the freshly stitched wound. “But I think I will let this heal on its own.” He sighed as he swung his legs off the bed. “Like Jarod says, sometimes they help you remember your mistakes.”

  “Suit yourself,” Janil said, looping her hand through Gabriel’s arm and heading out the flap. “Just keep it clean until it’s closed, probably a week or so, then we will remove them. But for now, we are off to finish our dinner. And Citera, you should get home to your father, he is probably having a nervous breakdown looking for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she answered, following behind them.

  “Citera, wait a moment,” Jaron called after her.

  She stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder nervously. “Jaron, I really should get home. It’s like Janil said, my dad is probably waking up the entire camp trying to find me.”

  “Then I will walk with you.” Rising to his feet, he grimaced and braced his side. “I don’t think I have hurt this bad in decades.”

  “Please Jaron,” Citera pleaded, desperate to avoid having this conversation with him. “Rest tonight, and if you want I can come back in the morning after everything has settled.”

  But it was no use. Dismayed, she watched as he picked up his lantern and motioned her out of the tent. They walked for quite a while in silence before Jaron finally spoke.

  “Would you like to tell me exactly what you overheard?” he asked quietly.

  Citera kept her eyes locked on the road ahead. “Not really.”

  “I see,” Jaron replied flatly. “Let me try rephrasing this. What was the first thing you heard?”

  Citera braced her stomach as another wave of anxiety knotted her insides. “Something about responsibilities,” she answered quietly.

  Jaron grunted and ran his hand through his hair. “And the last?”

  “Oh no, I can’t, I won’t,” she answered, shaking her head violently.

  “Why were you there, Citera?” Jaron sounded exhausted.

  “I came to apologize for creating problems between the two of you,” she answered, then paused. “But, I was too late.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Jaron responded, frowning as she tightened her arms around her middle. “I knew I couldn’t keep hiding them from her forever.”

  They rounded the end of the road and started up the hill onto the deserted trails of the housing area. “I know, but I always seem to know exactly what to say to screw something up.” Citera looked up at Jaron, at his bruises and freshly stitched gash, and sighed. “You two always seem to get along so well, and the other night when you were dancing together—”

  Jaron laughed weakly interrupting her. “Citera, we are friends at best and even that is questionable half the time.”

  “But she is always holding you, looking for you, and she acts happiest when you’re around.” Citera paused. “Well at least before today. Anyway, it always seemed she saw more in you than just friendship.”

  “It’s complicated,” he said before breaking into a fit of coughing that caused him to double over in pain. “I don’t know how Jarod deals with this kind of injury on a regular basis,” he breathed in between fits. Citera said nothing and waited patiently while he took a moment to let the pa
in pass before they continued up the trail. “Anyway, as for K, well I figure after what I said to her tonight … Let’s just say I’m lucky to be here talking to you at all. And I doubt seriously I will ever get her to speak with me again.” Jaron took another deep breath and sighed. “I really messed things up good this time.”

  “I don’t think so,” Citera responded glancing up at him. “Think about it. She forgave you for not rescuing her from the Heralds, and that resulted in her being tortured for 20 years. She forgave Jarod for breaking her arm and laying hands on her, and we all know how she feels about that. So do you really think she won’t be able to forgive you a few words spoken in the heat of an argument?”

  Jaron stopped in his tracks and gazed down on her. For a split second she thought maybe she had said too much. But his gaze wasn’t angry; in fact he actually seemed to relax a bit, almost as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Citera, I owe you an apology.”

  “Me? What for?”

  “For doubting you. I just couldn’t figure it out. I mean, there have been others in the past, but none she has ever bonded with as quickly as she has with you.” Citera couldn’t hide the frown forming on her face as they continued walking. “And honestly it frightened me. I saw you as a weak, naïve little girl and couldn’t imagine you being anything for K except a liability.”

  Citera, now feeling upset and confused, stopped walking and fought back the tears threatening to expose just how much his words were hurting her. Why was he telling her these things? And what did K’s past friends have to do with her? Sure she and K talked from time to time, but it wasn’t much of a friendship. Heck, K treated her more like her daughter than she did a friend.

  Jaron, picking up on her distress, stopped in front of her and knelt down so he was eye level with her. He used his large hands to lift her chin and wiped a stray tear drop from her cheek. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Citera. I only wanted to let you know I was wrong and she was right, I can see it now. There is something very special about you. You are a strong spirited girl and you possess wisdom well beyond your youth.” Jaron smiled and stood up, raising her chin to follow him. “I am glad she has you, she will need you by her side in the days that are to come.”

  “Thank you … I think.” She sniffled while in her mind she was still trying to figure out why in the world he would have thought her a liability for K.

  They resumed walking in silence and diverted onto the small trail that led right to her and her father’s tent. She moved to enter inside, but Jaron placed a hand on her shoulder. “Forgive me if I have upset you, that was the last thing I intended to do.” He heaved a giant sigh and pulled his hand back. Citera stared up at him, unsure of what to say; he had both insulted and praised her in the same breath, and with everything else that had happened that day she found herself struggling to process it all. She needed time to think.

  “Citera,” her father’s angry voice called from inside the tent distracting them both, “is that you? Where have you been? I have been worried sick …” As Mikel stepped out of the tent he paused, catching sight of Jaron. “By the stars, what happened to you?”

  Jaron laughed, bracing his bruised side. “Forgive me, Mikel, but it is a long story and I am tired. I just wanted to make sure she got home safe and apologize for keeping her so long.”

  “Oh okay. Well, thank you,” Mikel responded, his anger fading as quickly as it had begun. “Do you need me to do something to help with the pain? I think I have some medicine in my bag.”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” Jaron said. He turned and headed back toward his tent, both of them watching him silently until he disappeared from sight.

  “I don’t suppose you want to explain,” Mikel asked after a few silent moments.

  “Not really.”

  Instead Citera wrapped her arms around him and gave him a giant hug. “Sorry for making you worry, Dad. Do you know how much I love you?”

  She wasn’t sure why she suddenly felt the need to tell him. Maybe it was knowing that no matter what happened she knew he would always be there for her. Maybe it was seeing how fast two people who cared for each other could forget their feelings. Or maybe it was because she just needed to feel his arms wrapped around her. But whatever the reason, she needed to say it out loud, so she did. And when his arms wrapped around her and pulled her in tight, suddenly all the problems seemed a little less insurmountable.

  Mikel smiled, laying a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “I do, but it’s always nice to hear.”

  “Well good,” she said, looping her arm under his and leading him back inside. “Now let me make you that dinner.”

  Chapter 7

  Maya was jolted awake the next morning by the stinging and throbbing of her back. Opening her eyes and looking around, she was disappointed but not surprised to find that at some time while she slept Jarod had once again snuck out, leaving her alone. It was expected. Not one morning since she had arrived at the Tower had she awakened to find him still in the room with her, why should this morning be any different?

  She attempted to ease herself up in the bed, but no matter how she moved or turned, the stiches in her back pulled at her skin sending wave after wave of sharp pain radiating through her body. Determined that Jarod would not come back to this room and find her helplessly stuck in bed, Maya gritted her teeth and rolled onto her side. There she paused and took a few deep breaths to help prime herself for the agony she knew was about to come. Once she was as mentally prepared as she was going to get, Maya sucked in a deep breath and swung her legs over the side of the bed, using the weight of her own body to pull herself into an upright sitting position.

  It was all she could do not to scream out loud as each and every one of the stitches stretched and ripped the tender inflamed skin they were meant to heal. With her fingers digging into the mattress, Maya bit hard into her lower lip, the metallic taste confirming she had created yet another wound she would not be allowed to heal. Past the point of caring, Maya scooted her body forward until her feet touched the floor, then paused there to wait for the dizzying pain to ease. It took a few minutes but finally the pain subside enough for her to regain her bearings, and with her feet steady on the floor, she stood slowly and made her way across the room.

  On her way to the bathroom, she paused in front of the mirror and stared silently at her own reflection. It hadn’t done her a bit of good to feed the day before. Once again, the pale girl with dark, swollen eyes stared back at her. If anything, she looked worse than she had the day before. Shaking her head, she took a couple more deep breaths before turning around to evaluate the damage to her back. With one hand she raked her waist length black hair to the side and gasped at the sight reflecting back at her in the mirror. Underneath the bloody, ripped up dress she was still wearing, were five long straight lines that ran in various directions across the discolored, swollen skin of her back. And as she stood there continuing to stare at the ugly, disfiguring marks, for the first time since her arrival in the Tower, Maya found herself questioning her decision to come.

  But it wasn’t the pain or even the beating that had her questioning her resolve. It was the gut wrenching loneliness. At least back in Vicaris, she had her mom to turn to when times were bad, but here she had no one except for Jarod, and he hated her. All she had done since the first day he carried her into the Tower was create more problems for him, and despite what Jade said about him caring, Maya didn’t believe for one second that Jarod held any kind of feelings for her. After all, she had thrust herself into his life, forcing him to be her protector in a world he really couldn’t protect her from. And for what? So the Shadows could use her to manipulate him even more than they already were?

  And as if he didn’t already have enough reasons to loath her, now she was damaged. There was no doubt in her mind that each of those long stitched lines was going to leave behind a nasty scar and couple that with her already freakishly child-like features, what man would want her? Taking her eyes off the mi
rror, Maya stared down at her blood covered feet, and began to ponder how much better life for him might have been had she had only gone through with her plan that night at the Inn, instead of going up to Jarod’s room.

  “You should get cleaned up.”

  Turning toward the sound of his voice, Maya found Jarod watching her from the doorway. “I will help you cover them once you get out,” he continued as he made his way across the room.

  “How long have you been standing there?” she asked quietly, returning her attention to the image in the mirror. Never, during all the years of abuse she had suffered at the hands of her father, had he once done anything to her to scar her in this way. But in less than a half a year of being inside the Tower, the three of them had managed to maim her small body to the point that Maya doubted even her own mother would be able to recognize her.

  “Long enough,” Jarod answered flatly. He followed her gaze into the mirror before quickly looking away. “Come on.”

  Taking her by the arm, Jarod gently guided her to the bathroom. While he gathered towels and started the water to warm, Maya began to work on freeing herself from the stiff confines of her dress. She managed to get the material off her arms fairly easily, but when she tried to slide it the rest of the way down her body she was halted by a tearing sensation at the base of one of the wounds. Suddenly dizzy from pain, Maya braced herself against the counter as a stream of blood ran down her leg onto the floor.

  “Shit.” Jarod was quick to her side, pressing a wet cloth to the small of her back in an attempt to slow the bleeding. “It’s stuck to the wounds.”

  “Just help me get it the rest of the way off,” Maya ground out. “We can cover it once I get done.”

  Jarod grunted in agreement. Dropping the cloth, he placed both large hands in the middle of the open back of the dress. “Take a deep breath and hold it,” he demanded.

  Maya nodded and braced herself against the counter. Then in one fluid motion Jarod split the dress completely in half. Maya, left standing in nothing but her underwear, was both relieved and embarrassed as she looked down at the two halves of what used to be her dress then back at him.