For years, Charlotte was my reason for living. The desire to avenge her death was the only thing that got me to place my feet on the floor every morning. But no more. I’m living for something else now—someone else. Nothing is more powerful to me than this feeling I carry for Annelise.
“Go.”
CHAPTER TEN
Somehow Annelise and I have made it to my secret spot, a lookout nestled in the dunes. Perched above the beach and below the path, we are hidden, and yet I feel more exposed than I ever have before. She knows too much, has seen too much. She’s witnessed me at my most vulnerable. She suspects I love her—how could she not?—and there’s no going back from that.
I shift, and the movement aggravates my injury. I heal quickly, but I seek the pain now, test its limits. It reminds me I’m more than just this churning frustration and unease. More than this consuming desire.
“You okay?” she asks quietly.
I dare to look at her. She sits so close. The waxing moon has painted silver outlines along her nose, her cheekbone, the upper curve of her lip. I cut my eyes away, out to the water. “Aye,” I say in a rasp. “Thanks to you.”
She didn’t just save my life; she gave me a new one. Before Annelise came into my world, I was driven only by hatred, by the desire to have my revenge, and if it killed me in the process, then so be it. But now? Now I have hope. I still crave vengeance, but it’s because of what I might claim afterward: a life shared with her.
But do I tell her this? Even if I tried, how would I?
The feelings are too much, so I smother them beneath a half-smile, adding, “Though, I do wonder what took you so long to show up.” It’s something she’d do, using humor to conceal emotion.
“You’re welcome.” She leans close and nudges my side. At the touch of her body, I am unmanned. My breath catches, but she must think it’s from the pain because she quickly says, “Oh jeez, I’m sorry. How do you feel?” Before I can reply, she’s hopped onto her knees and is at my back. “May I?”
Her hands are on the hem of my sweater. I don’t know what she’s about to do, but I won’t stop her. I give a tight nod.
She pulls up both my sweater and shirt. The night air is cold enough, but my skin feels fevered, and a shiver ripples up my body.
“Oh, Ronan.” She traces the outline of my injury—the Blood Eagle she saved me from. “That must’ve hurt.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. Her tender fingers on my bare skin are too much to bear. “You could say that,” I manage through gritted teeth.
She pulls everything back into place and squeezes my shoulder. Her movements are stiffer than before. Does she sense this tension too? “That Dag was such a sicko. I don’t suppose he used antiseptic on those creepy tools of his, either. Like, sterilize them, or something.” She settles once more beside me, and I feel the agitation rippling off her body. She’s wound up and ready to chatter. Is the nervous energy because she wants to be near me or because she’d rather be near him?
“Good thing I’m a Tracer,” I say. Not a vampire. I look at her, willing her to catch the unspoken thought in the intensity of my gaze.
But she only nods. “And then there’s that whole full-blooded Druid thing…” She tapers off. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she seems to curl into herself, beneath a cloak of self-consciousness. She’d be thinking of my sister—I know I am.
“Aye,” I say, not wanting her to think she’s said anything wrong, “there’s that.”
“Are you going to go after her?”
I sigh. “Eventually. I mean, yes. Soon.” There are other things foremost on my mind at the moment.
“You must be happy. That she’s alive, I mean.”
“Of course. But…” I’m not sure how I’m feeling. Am I empty? Relieved? Maybe even a little afraid? “Discovering Lottie alive? I’d have thought I’d feel immeasurable joy. But I find I’m…anxious. She’s smart, my sister. And she’s up to something. She’s a mystery.”
“And you’re afraid of the answer?”
I nod. She’s got it exactly. “Something like that, yes.”
Annelise has an intent look on her face, as though she might say something meaningful or personal. At the moment, I can’t bear either. Lightening my tone, I say, “Enough about me. What about you, you wee dervish? ‘Who’s got the upper hand now?’” I laugh, and it’s not entirely fabricated. “You’re too much. But truly, what were you thinking, bursting in like that? You could’ve been killed.” I shake my head in genuine wonder. “I’m amazed you weren’t killed.”
“When Regina found me and told me what was going down”—she shrugs—“I knew right away what you were doing. I thought I could help you. Maybe even kill Dagursson myself. It was okay—I’m stronger than you think. And I’d just fed—”
“Must you remind me?” My voice comes out sharper than I intended. But she was going to tell me how she’d just fed from Carden. Vampire blood, particularly when consumed hot and pulsing from the source, makes one powerful. Their bond had been an accident, but now that they share one, it’s made her stronger. Stronger is a good thing. So why does it feel so dismal? “I get that you’re bonded to him. I get that you’re stronger. I get that.”
I have to turn away and gaze north along the shore instead. She fed from Carden, from his veins. Veins I’d like to cut, bleeding him out until I’m the one who gives Annelise what she needs. Until it’s me, not him, who provides the source of her strength.
“Don’t blame me,” she says gently. Her finger is light and cool under my chin. She draws my face to look at her. “I’d do whatever it takes to save your life. I can’t lose you, Ronan.”
I pull away. “Because you like toying with me?”
She hesitates—and it cuts deeper than any swordplay Dagursson could devise. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying, Ann?” Say it. Say you want him and not me. Or say you belong to me only. Just say something.
But she’s silent.
I stare down at the waves, wanting this to be done, wishing I could just fling myself over the cliff into the sea’s brutal embrace. “I don’t need your mercy.”
“What does that mean? That’s not it at all.” She runs her fingers through her hair, cradling her head in her hand. “You’re…you’re confusing me.”
“What’s confusing?” I twist to face her, cupping her chin in my hand. The move jars my injury, but I don’t care. I lean closer, my eyes glued to her mouth, and burn where my body touches hers. “Do you not want me to touch you?” I whisper. “It seems I must ask outright. But I need to know, Ann. Do you want this?”
Her breath catches. “I’m bonded to Carden.”
“Enough with the reminders. Trust me, your bond is all I think about. Is that what you want? Say the word, and I’ll leave. I’ll disappear forever.”
“No.” Her voice is pained. “I don’t want you to leave. Not at all. I want you here. All the time. That’s what confuses me.”
I exhale, my lungs functioning again. “That’s all I need to know.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’ll think of something.”
“But Carden…. He’ll kill you.”
“Not necessarily.” My head snaps up with an idea. “We have something he needs.”
She raises her brows in question. “You mean me?”
“No, you he wants. But your dagger… May I see it?”
“Please.” She gives me a grateful nod and unzips her jacket. “Honestly, it’s kind of freaking me out. I feel like it’s alive or something.” She reaches into a hidden pocket and pulls out the unusual weapon, holding it up like a torch.
Both Dagursson and my sister had known it on sight, and looking closer, it’s familiar to me, too. I’d seen such a thing myself…on Freya’s hip. “Jesus, Ann.” I meet her eye, deadly serious. “Where did you get that?”
Her sheepish expression is something I recognize, and I brace for the explanation. “Ann?�
� I prompt.
“I stole it,” she says finally, adding in a rush, “when I broke into the keep.”
“You took it from the keep?” I ask sharply.
She doesn’t pause, just rattles on, “That woman vampire I told you about, Sonja, she used it. It’s a ceremonial thing. Nobody saw me. Nobody knows I have it. Are you angry with me? Don’t be angry.”
I shake my head. “No, you mad, wild girl. I’m just happy you found your way back out again.” I hold out my hand for it. “May I?” I take it from her carefully, tilting it to catch the light of the moon. It’s a beautiful object—slim, elegant, and very, very old. “They’d kill you if they found this in your possession.”
“I’ve kind of figured that out.” She looks nervous—it’s a sight I don’t often see. “Did you see what it did to Dagursson? Will they be able to sense that I have it?” Her hands are raised, as if she’s handed off the hot potato and now doesn’t want it back. “I don’t know if I should hide it or what to do with it. I’m seriously tempted just to throw the thing in the ocean.”
“What you do is let me keep it.” I don’t need to think about it; I simply roll up my sleeve and slide it into one of the leather straps I use to conceal my stakes.
“What are you doing?” She grabs me. “That’ll get you killed.”
My arm automatically flexes at her touch. “Not if nobody finds it.”
“But by now they know someone broke in. They know someone took it. What if they find it on you—they’ll think it was you.”
“And I’ll let them.” I look hard into her eyes. When she begins to protest, I cut her off, insisting, “They can’t know it was you. They’ll kill you for it. Quickly and without warning.”
She’s silent. The moment hangs. I’m the first to pull away, adjusting my sweater back into place. I wait a moment then sweep the back of my finger down her cheek. “Ann? Are we agreed?”
She’s unable to look away from the spot on my sleeve where the dagger is hiding. “It scares me. That thing has power. Sonja—the vampire—she uses it to cut the girls. Then they…the boys…” She falters.
“Don’t,” I say, stopping her, pulling her close. I have some idea what happens in the vampires’ castle—I don’t need to hear it. “I can just imagine what it is those wee bastards do.”
I pull away, realizing what I need to say. “You can’t mention this to Carden,” I tell her, praying it’s not the thing that makes me lose her.
Her eyes sharpen. “What? Why?”
“Because he’s a vampire,” I explain, “and this thing”—I make a fist, feeling the dagger cut into my forearm—“this is the thing that can make or kill them.”
“But he’s on our side.”
“Even so.” I can’t explain why, but until I know Carden’s true motivations, I don’t trust him. “Just don’t. Just for now. Please?”
“I don’t like having secrets,” she says.
“Aye, and it’s what I love about you.” The words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to check them. I stiffen, hold, and like that, my decision is made. This is the moment I’d normally pull away. This time, I don’t. I’ve said the words, and now I let down my walls and allow myself to feel them.
I pull her close, tucking her under my arm. Warmth fills me. Slowly, it begins to vibrate between us. Heat builds until she gives a small shiver in my arms.
She peers up at me. “Are you using your special voodoo touch? Like, ‘Wonder Twin powers activate?’”
“Wonder whats?”
“Never mind. It’s a cartoon thing. You know, American television?” Nervously, she waves it away. “Not your thing.”
I wish it were. I wish lazy mornings, Sunday crosswords, and inane television shows were my thing.
“No,” I say quietly, “no powers. Just me. Just my hands. Nothing more.”
That silences her. She feels it, too, this connection.
“I’m scared, Ronan. I can’t be with you. But…”
“But I can’t be without you either,” I finish, speaking for both of us.
“But Carden,” she says.
“I know.” It’s dangerous, this thing between us. Carden’s a laid-back fellow, but if he knew the depths of my feelings, he’d kill me. I need him to part from Annelise, and he must believe he’s come to the conclusion on his own. For now, he thinks I’m weak, and for now I’ll let him.
“He said he found my mother,” she says.
“Your mother?” I realize I’m gaping. I’d seen the photo of her mother—I’d stolen it back for her. When Annelise had told me she was dead, I’d believed her.
“She’s been alive all this time.” She shrugs, taking a moment to tamp down the emotion I hear rising in her throat. “All this time, she let me live with…with that man. He said he was my dad, but who knows? I mean, somebody must know. Somehow Carden found her.”
So that was where Carden had been. For much of the semester, he was simply gone. I just assumed he was on a mission for Freya, though at the time, I’d thought he was being selfish, leaving Annelise to suffer without feeding from him. I’d watched as she weakened, did what I could to help her. And now, to find out he’d been doing something—something selfless—with thoughts only for her… It disturbed me in ways I didn’t want to think about. “That was kind of him,” I say tightly.
She remains nestled against my chest, and after a moment, I feel her give a small nod. “I don’t know what to think anymore. Did Carden know all along that she was alive? What else does he know that he’s not telling me?”
“Don’t blame him,” I say, even though I can’t believe I’m about to defend him. “I think on this island we don’t always understand the meaning of what it is we do know.”
“What are we going to do?”
I take a deep breath. She’s not going to like what I have to say. “You’ll do nothing. You’ll stay here, and you’ll keep your head down and go to your classes. Without me here you’ll have a chance to see what it is you truly feel for McCloud.”
She pulls away. “Wait, what? Where will you be?” Are those tears in her eyes, or is it just the moonlight?
I squeeze her closer. “I have to leave,” I tell her. “I won’t be far.”
“No.” She gives my chest a shove while still holding tight. “I hate that you guys keep leaving me.”
“I’ll never leave you. Not for good.”
“What if I need you?”
“You’d best need me.” I stroke her hair, tilting her head and coaxing her eyes to mine. “We’re not done, Annelise Drew. I will come back for you. But this is the only way. They know someone stole the dagger. If I leave, it’ll take all eyes off you. You won’t have to look over your shoulder. They’ll link my absence, and the death of Dagursson, with the stolen dagger. They’ll assume I stole it and fled. It’ll create chaos. Give you your opportunity.”
“My opportunity to what?”
“To save Emma.”
She peers at me like she’s only now seeing me. For the first time ever, she’s speechless.
I smile, despite myself. “I know you well, Annelise Drew.”
Light dances in her eyes. Perhaps she’s longed to be seen as much as I have. “It’s what you love about me?” she asks playfully.
“Tease.” I cup her cheek. I want to kiss her, and she looks like she’ll let me, but I need to make sure of one more thing. I comb my fingers back and through her hair, cradling her head, keeping her eyes locked on mine. “But listen to me,” I say, growing serious. “In this, you must trust Carden. He might be my rival, but he does care for you—more deeply than I’d like to admit. Trust him to help you. Keep what you know about the dagger to yourself, but you must seek his help if you’re going to get out of there alive. Whatever you do, don’t go back into that castle alone.”
She reaches for my hand, twining her fingers with mine. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“Believe me, if there were any other way, I wouldn’t leave you.”
>
And this time, I do let myself kiss her. And she allows it. In this, as in all things, she meets me halfway.
As we part, I make a silent vow. I’ll come back more powerful than ever. I got Annelise into this, and I’ll get her out again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Tracer,” a sharp voice calls, stopping me on my way back to my room.
I’m not in the mood for this. For Carden. I stop, turning as he approaches. I don’t wait till he’s reached me before I say, “Tell your mistress it’s done. They’ll find Dagursson dead, if they haven’t already.”
He reaches me, brow cocked in that way of his. “My mistress? She’s your mistress, too, last I checked. And you can tell her yourself when you return to Eilean Ban-Laoch.”
“I’m not going back.”
“What nonsense is this now?”
“I won’t go back.”
“No, lad, she said you could pay your wee visit to the Isle of Night so long as you promised to kill Alrik. You killed him—and a fine job at that, by the way. I confess, I didn’t know you had it in you. But now the job’s done, and so is the visit. You have no choice but to obey.”
“I’m her soldier, not her slave. I’ll leave the Isle, but there’s something else I need to attend to.”
His eyes harden. “You’ll attend to Freya, and tonight.”
“I see you’ve really cozied up to her. I mean, minding her chosen ones, delivering her messages… What else do you do for her?”
He stares me down for a prolonged moment, then simply shrugs a shoulder. “Here’s a bit of advice, lad. When you find yourself in hell, you’d best hug the devil.”
“And what if I’m not one for hugging? What then?”
Something clicks in his expression. “You returned for the girl, and now you do something else for her, too.”
I play dumb. “The girl?” I want to hear it—I want to make him say her name.
“We share a bond, Drew and I, and I’m not letting her go. If you want her, you’ll have to take her from me.” He scans me up and down. “I don’t know that you have it in you. Now be a good boy and return to Eilean Ban-Laoch.”
Dark Craving: A Watchers Novella Page 10
