Mia slithered off the bed, her boots silent on the floorboards. There was no moon tonight, she was glad of the darkness layering the room in shadows. It hid the extent of the damage she’d done. Mia cringed. Had she really done all that? She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d gone so completely off the rails. It had never happened before. The raging, snarling beast that had clawed its way up and out of her was as strange and unfamiliar to her as this place and these people.
She moved carefully, feeling out the floorboards for squeaking joints. Mia’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, and she picked her way around the piles of bed things on the floor, stepping over the pillows. Stark white shards of porcelain gleamed in the dim light from the uncovered window. Mia was sort of impressed by the fallout; she’d really smashed that basin. The brass door handle was cold as she palmed it, turning to the left with excruciating slowness. Mia gritted her teeth at the metallic sound of the spring coiling, too loud in the quiet room. She eased the door open inch by inch; praying to a God she was pretty sure had abandoned her that it wouldn’t squeak. A wall of solid black loomed in front of her. Mia didn’t dare breathe as she stuck her head out into the hall, looking first to the left where the window gleamed darkly and then to the right. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Clear.
Mia slipped through the house on silent feet, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. She kept her ears open, listening for the scrape of a shoe on wood, the rustling of skirts, but there was nothing. The silence was profound, the weight of it pressing in on her from all around. They must all be asleep. It did occur to her that this was the perfect opportunity to make a run for it. Occurred and then was firmly squashed by logic and experience. Running wasn’t an option; Mia had neither the will nor the courage to go back into the woods alone.
Her heart just about exploded at the sharp squeak that issued from the stair. She’d made it halfway down the wide staircase without a sound only to ruin it with a single careless step. Ice spread through her body, freezing everything but her heart as it continued its wild rampage within her chest. Mia listened. And listened. Nothing. Not a sound, no indication that someone had heard. Mia let the air out of her lungs.
The next few steps were the most painfully slow of her life as she tested each stair before transferring her full weight onto it. Mia reached the bottom of the staircase and paused, her hand still gripping the polished rail. Her eyes flicked around the open space, straining in the dark as she inspected the shadows with distrust. Pine boards and a door to the left, a room on the other side of the bare wall. The giant slab of heavy oak before her that opened out into the night. And a similarly bare wall to her right, the kitchen door ajar.
The darkness beyond the door was daunting; Mia wished she could use the flashlight on her phone. The phone she’d stupidly left at home. What an easy thing it would have been, to call her mom or dad, or even Jake and irrevocably wreck Orden’s entire charade. But she didn’t have it or the certainty it could give her. Because no matter how Mia fought against it, doubt and uncertainty gnawed at her, undermining her resolve not to fall for the act Breahn so convincingly delivered. An act Mia was very slowly starting to believe might not be an act at all. The anxiety brought on by that terrifying thought threatened to overwhelm her, and Mia brutally pushed it down, throwing it into a steel box where it couldn’t reach her.
Mia squeezed the wooden railing once, hard enough for the tendons in her wrist to pop, then she let go. Silent as a ghost she slipped through the open door into the black kitchen- and screamed.
“Ye’ll need to be much stealthier than that if you plan to sneak away in the dead of night.” The massive dark shape spoke with Orden’s voice, deep and bored sounding. “I heard you the very moment you first stirred.”
“Then why are you sitting here in the dark?” Mia asked, her voice a sharp hiss as she willed her heart to slow its frantic pace.
A flash of teeth in the dark, “Because I rather like sitting in the dark.” Mia bit back the retort ready on her tongue and kept quiet. The silence stretched for a moment longer then Orden spoke, “You do not strike me as a fool. You know there is nowhere for you to go.” She waited for the question. “Are you hungry?” Mia blinked, it was not the question she’d been expecting. Becoming progressively more irritated Orden continued, “If you’re not running and you’re not looking for food then what are you doing here?”
“I’m hungry!” Mia blurted and winced.
“Well, if you didn’t wake them with yer screaming, you can be sure they’re awake now,” Orden said, bored again. Mia assumed he was talking about Breahn and Hanna and despite everything she felt a little bad. Especially after ruining the bedroom.
“I really don’t care.” Mia covered the lie with a schooled drawl. A chair groaned as Orden shifted in his seat, she could see his face more clearly now that her eyes had adjusted. The pale sheen of his bare head, the glint of steely grey eyes from the deep caverns beneath his square brow.
“I wonder, are you in the habit of returning kindness with such blatant disregard?”
“And I wonder how long we’re going to stay here talking in the dark.” Mia ground out, her temper gaining the upper hand. In the silence that followed she felt the raging beast stir deep inside her, ready to claw its way to the surface again. She almost let it. Almost.
A soft explosion of air, “I suppose it is rather unnecessary is it not?” Without warning or ceremony light flooded the room sending Mia flinching back only to come up hard against the doorframe. Her eyes watered as she blinked furiously, her hand raised like a shield against the warm glow of candlelight burning like fire after the darkness.
“What the hell?” Every single candle on the brass fixture must be lit judging by the brightness surrounding her but- Her mind tried and tried, but even the logical part of her was stumped by what had happened. What Orden had just done. There was no doubt in her mind, as Mia lowered her hand, that the man sitting at the table, grey eyes glittering intensely, was behind this.
“How did you-?”
“Do that?” He finished for her. He looked so casual, slouching in his chair, thick arms crossed over his chest. Mia nodded wordlessly. Orden’s face gave nothing away as he said, “I used my Power to light the candles.” Something twisted low in her belly and the world tilted on its axis. Mia knew she was going to faint a split second before her knees went out from under her and she slid down the doorframe, unconscious.
Mia came to seconds later, opening eyes weighted with lead only to close them again at the brightness. What happened? She was on the floor, slumped against something hard- the doorframe? That made sense, she’d been standing against it moments before- before the realization of what Orden had done had knocked her senseless. And not only what he’d done but what it meant for Mia. Because he’d been telling the truth, all of them had. No. No, no, no! A shadow fell over her and a deep, accented voice said, “Are ye alright, girl?” Mia’s eyes flew open, and a loud gasp tore out of her. She made to scramble back and away, succeeding only in knocking her head against the doorframe.
“Get away from me!” She screamed, shrinking back, cowering before the giant of a man who could light candles without so much as a breath. Terrified. She was terrified by what he could do to her, terrified because there was no defense against something so unexplainable.
Orden crouched down before her, his palms held out in front of him. “Why would I harm you?” He asked, guessing at her reeling thoughts. Mia had no control over the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she scanned the man’s face, eyes wide with fear. The cold glint of steel she’d grown used to seeing in those pale grey eyes was gone as he met her gaze and did not look away. “So much depends on you.”
Mia’s blood turned to ice as the true weight of that statement crashed into her. So much depends on you. “N-no!” She stammered past the blockage in her throat. Mia didn’t want whatever this was; she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Mia wanted to believe that she could go
home even with the evidence telling her it wasn’t going to happen. What Orden had done, lighting the candles like she would flip an electric switch- it was impossible. And yet he’d done it, and nothing could explain it away. It was like- no- it couldn’t be- could it be? Magic. Mia lifted her face to the brass light fixture hanging from the ceiling. No, it wasn’t possible. There was no such thing as magic. Spells and charms existed only in books and movies- in other worlds. “No,” Mia whispered, her lips going numb and bloodless. “I don’t- I can’t-” A loud rushing filled her ears and Mia’s vision blurred around the edges. “I think I’m going to pass out again.” She said, blinking through the fog that settled like a lens in front of her eyes.
If this was happening, really happening, then what did it mean for her? For her family? Her life? If everything Orden and Breahn had told her was true, then Mia would never see her home again. She would never walk under the bright neon lights of her city of steel and concrete, never hear the musicians busking in the park. Her parents, oh God her parents! How could she live a life without her mother’s quick smiles and the comforting smell of her perfume? Would she ever hear her father’s laugh or look into his eyes and see her own? They would never know what happened to her. For the rest of their lives, they would be the parents of a daughter who never came home. “Oh, God!” A gasping sob rolled out of her followed by another and another, great heaving waves of despair.
Mia pressed her palms to her face and curled in on herself until her forehead rested against her knees. “No. Oh, God. No,” Water gathered in her hands, seeped through the cracks between fingers and splattered on the floor. One moment Mia was huddled on the ground, the doorframe cutting into her back, the next she was being lifted, strong arms scooping her up against an immensely broad chest. A devastated moan warbled in Mia’s ears, her own voice, she realized despite the unfamiliar sound. Her head jostled against a shoulder, hard as granite, as Orden carried her up the stairs and down the hall into her room. He paused on the threshold- taking in the havoc Mia had wreaked earlier in the day- before crossing the short distance to the bed where he then eased her, still crying, onto the mattress. The mattress sank a little under her weight and Mia turned on her side, curling around herself as sobs racked her fame.
“Lift your head,” Orden said, his voice gruff and quiet. Mia hiccupped but did as he asked; she was beyond resistance at this point. “Lie back.” Mia let her head fall back at the command, and it sank into the pillow he’d slipped into place. A moment later a heavy blanket settled over her. “Rest. Tomorrow we will talk more.” A feather-light touch on her head and then he was gone, the door shutting quietly behind him. That was when the shivering started. Mia’s entire body trembled with the force of it, setting her teeth chattering even as her muscles seized. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, soaking the mattress with fresh tears before she finally fell asleep.
Chapter 25
“I’m not hungry.”
Breahn settled herself on the edge of the bed, the tray in her hands rattling as she balanced it on her knee. She tossed her braid over a shoulder and swept a sympathetic gaze over Mia who knew she must look as bad as she felt. Her face was swollen and puffy, creased from lying on her side, her eyes red and gritty from crying. Mia didn’t want to know what her hair looked like. “Ye need to eat something,” Breahn said, her tone gentle.
“I honestly don’t think I can.” Mia’s eyes flicked to the tray where steam curled up from a bowl. The earthy smell of maize porridge tinged the air and turned her stomach. Mia looked away, breathing through her mouth.
Breahn shifted her weight, the mattress sinking. “So ye plan to let yourself waste away then.” It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t an accusation either, just a simple statement of fact.
“You would too.” Mia sighed, fixing her eyes on the doorknob.
There was a short, considering pause, then Breahn said, “Aye, I suppose I would feel rather sorry for myself.”
Mia glared at the other girl and snarled, “I’m not feeling sorry for myself!” Breahn narrowed her eyes at Mia as if to say, aren’t you though? “I’m not,” Mia repeated, too outraged to stay lying down. She sat up, the blanket pooling around her middle and fisted her hands in the fabric. “Who are you to talk anyway? You have no idea what I’m going through! I’ve just lost everything I ever cared about.” To her dismay tears welled and spilled down her cheeks, Mia dashed them away angrily and croaked, “My life is over!”
Breahn spoke in a hushed voice, “I know more than you think. Be grateful your loved ones are alive and well.” Mia opened her mouth and closed it abruptly, something in her memory clicking into place. Breahn had lost a parent, her father was dead. She and Hanna had lost their home as well, forced to work in an inn to survive. Mia felt sick to her stomach. The other girl turned her head but when she looked at Mia it was with a sad smile curling her lips. “It is no easy thing to lose those ye love.”
Mia’s breath rattled in her throat. She had no idea how she would ever move past this, this gaping, agonizing hole in her chest, in her very soul. The sheer magnitude of her new reality pressed in on her from all around, her shoulders actually hunched beneath the invisible weight of it. “How?”
“With time.” Mia didn’t say what she was thinking; no amount of time could ever ease the aching in her heart.
She managed to choke down a few spoonfuls of cold porridge under Breahn’s pointed stare. Bullied into eating by the other girl. When Mia said, as much Breahn merely snorted and told her that she wasn’t going to allow Mia to starve herself. “And when ye’ve finished your tea ye’re going to help me clean up this mess.” Breahn said, taking in the bits of porcelain littering the floor with a raised brow.
Mia swallowed the tea in her mouth. “Sorry,” She coughed when the minty liquid trickled down her throat.
“Don’t apologize to me. Ma’s not going to be happy when she finds out ye broke her favorite wash basin.” Mia had the grace to look guilty as those blue eyes fixed on her face. “I’m only teasing.” Breahn flashed straight white teeth, “It wasn’t her favorite.”
She breathed a little easier, but the guilt remained. “I said some awful things to her.” Mia murmured, remembering those first interactions with Orden’s wife.
Breahn nodded, “Aye ye did.” It was hard not to feel defensive in that moment. How was she supposed to have acted? “She understands why ye said what ye did,” Breahn said, reading Mia’s thoughts. Her face softened, “It’s nothing an apology can’t fix.”
And, just like that, the brief flash of temper flickered and went out. Mia loosed a minty breath and nodded her head in agreement. She set the half-empty earthenware mug on the nightstand and peeled back the blanket. Every muscle in Mia’s body ached as she got to her feet, her very bones hurt from a night spent curled in a tight ball shaking with the force of her crying. Mia took a shuffling step forward, making a sound of discomfort as she moved toward an area of the floor with a high concentration of porcelain shards. Mia didn’t know how she was going to get through whatever lay in store for her but this, at least, she could do.
The two girls were silent as they went about setting the room to rights. Breahn left at one point, returning minutes later with a broom and a dustpan. She swept the floor as Mia stared at the pile of curtains she’d ripped off the wall. The rod braces had come out of the pine boards leaving behind small splintered holes in the wood. Mia didn’t even know where to start. She tucked her chin against her chest, eyes trained on the burgundy fabric. She felt horrible, grief and guilt combining in a potent, miserable mix. It had been easy to break and ruin things when it looked like she was being held here against her will. Now that she knew better, Mia couldn’t help but feel ashamed of her actions. Repaying kindness with such animosity. Her mother had taught her better than that.
Blinking hard against the stinging in her eyes Mia bent down and lifted the heavy drapes into her arms. The curtain rod dragged against the floor, and she raised the bundle h
igher before setting it all onto the bed. Mia’s nose ran and dripped as she extracted the wooden rod from the loops of dark fabric, setting it aside before folding the curtains into neat squares. She searched the floor for the braces, found one under the corner of the bed and the other directly below the window. Thin iron nails, bent out of shape after being wrenched out of the wall, jingled as Mia placed both braces on top of one curtain. She sighed, the air rattling in her throat and looked up from her task.
Breahn was bent over, sweeping tinkling porcelain into the dustpan. She straightened, long black braid bumping against her shoulder. “There,” She breathed, surveying the room in a quick turn, setting her skirts rustling. “That wasna so bad,” Her eyes found Mia’s and Breahn smiled.
“Mhm,” Mia looked away. She felt Breahn’s gaze on her and refused to turn.
“We should go downstairs.”
Mia pressed her lips together and nodded. Orden was waiting to speak to her, Breahn didn’t say it but Mia had suspected as much from the moment the other girl had arrived. And because it seemed like she was waiting for Mia to say something, she did, “Okay.”
The walk from her room down to the kitchen took far too long and yet when Mia passed into the kitchen, she felt it like it hadn’t been long enough. She had no idea what to say to the man leaning casually against the butcher-block countertop, his harsh features relaxed, almost soft as he watched his wife working next to him. It was the most normal thing they could have been doing, and it made Mia stop in her tracks. It was as if her being there somehow sucked the life right out of the room, replacing it with thick tension. Orden stiffened, a second later his eyes flicked toward her. Beside him, the sawing of a blade through bread stopped, and Hanna straightened.
Chosen (The Last Guardians Book 1) Page 14
