“I said if we don’t die. We still have to make it out of here without being speared.”
“Yeah, I guess I’m dying a virgin.” He let out a heavy mournful sigh.
Tage snatched the pillow, swatting him across the chest. “Even if we do survive you’ll still be a virgin…for a long time.”
“Hey.” He grabbed the pillow, pulling her closer. “I don’t regret being here with you.” He slid the pillow, to his side. “I would fight by your side anytime. But I won’t die without knowing…”
His lips sought hers, and at once his feelings rushed through her; his pain, his fear, the longing for her were one, spinning together into a storm she couldn’t tame.
Her head grew dizzy with his emotions. She pulled back, grasping his T-shirt in her fists. Breathless, she locked eyes with him. She had to warn him. He had to know what he was getting into. “We can’t do this,” she whispered, though his parted lips begged her to play.
“Why not?” His fingers trailed down her neck.
Her reasons wrestled with her desire. She had to back away now before it was too late. “Everyone I care about gets hurt.”
His hand was now on the small of her back, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her T-shirt. She shivered, though his skin was warm against hers.
“Don’t you know, Tage Summerfield, it would hurt more to be without you?”
She parted her lips, ready to argue why that was such a stupid thing to say, when he stopped her with a kiss. He kissed her slowly and softly, drawing her into him until she could no longer resist. She kissed him harder, slipping her tongue along his, this time letting go in the rapture of his emotions. She held onto him tightly, leaving no room for death to separate them, but she knew deep inside, death would find a way through the cracks—death always found the ones she loved.
ARE WE GOING out today? Asair asked.
Halen glanced out the window, scanning the bushes where she had seen the wolf the night before. “Stop saying we—you’re leaving.”
All this rejection is killing me.
She imagined his ruby-hued lips in a pout. “Good, then get out so I can move on.”
Aren’t we testy this morning?
“You think? I’ve got you interrupting my thoughts…”
They can be quite boring sometimes, he interjected. I mean, why do you even need a high school diploma?
“Oh my gosh! Do you listen to everything?”
Mostly.
“It’s none of your business, but I actually cared about my grades. Right now, I’m a dropout.” She made her way to the bathroom. “But what does any of it matter anyway? Everything, I worked for won’t save us now.”
Infinite knowledge is yours. You don’t need school—you need a good teacher. I could teach you. If you want to explore your powers, let me show you.
No, thanks. I’m fine on my own.
As she brushed her teeth, she opened the drawer to see if Natalie had left any makeup behind. If she were going out in public, she should at least attempt to cover the bruises. Tubes of gloss, still in the packaging, eye shadow, and a compact lined the drawer. Halen chose a tube of open gloss. She read the label, Twisted Sister. She rinsed her teeth, spat and then opened the tube. Squirting a dollop on the back of her hand, she admired a shimmery silver with a hint of rose. She wondered if Natalie had picked it for the shade or the name.
That would look delicious on your lips. Asair interrupted her thoughts.
She unwillingly licked her lips.
“Stop that!” She placed both hands on the bathroom counter and leaned toward the mirror.
Stay away from Jae, he said. A purge can destroy you. I’ve seen it before. You mustn’t go to her—she’s from Etlis, you know.
“You know her?”
You’ll be sorry if you seek her help.
A pang of uneasy tension twisted Halen’s stomach. “You do know her! I can feel it.”
Of course. Jae’s location was inside her all along. Her mom knew this. All she had to do was search his memories. Closing her eyes, she imagined the contours of his face, his full lips, his square jaw, and those simmering jade eyes. “Stop hiding. Tell me where she is.”
As his face flashed into view, she found herself standing in front of him. If she lifted her hand, her fingertips would brush his loose cotton shirt. Her breath caught and she stepped back frightened. His contemplative eyes searched hers, and she wanted to ask him, no, demand once more where to find Jae, but the words would not rise to her throat. He stepped forward so their bare toes touched. His flesh was cold against hers, as one might expect from a corpse, sending a chill through her veins.
Her feet tickled. When she glanced down, scarlet grass poked from between their toes. The shoots sprang from the tile grout, spreading along the floor. When the grass reached the walls, the stucco melted away, making way to a vast meadow. Dark gnarled bark curled along the tub basin, forming the trunk of a tree, its branches twisted overhead blooming with prickly violet-hued blossoms. The branches wound across the room, stabbing the bathroom mirror until it shattered, the shimmering shards caught up in the wind, drifting birds in the endless sky.
Asair shifted, as if taking another step forward. Halen struggled to step away, but he was a wave and she the shore, they were destined to crash into one another. He flowed against her with great pressure, and when she tilted her head back, he stepped inside her, his body becoming one with hers. Purple petals swirled in the windswept sky as she collided with his world.
Halen walked through the red grass on feet that were not her own. Her toes were longer, thicker, and the soles were rough, which somehow, she knew was from walking barefoot on rocky paths. A loose cotton shirt clung to her chest, Asair’s chest. She was in his memory, just as she had been on the beach with Elizabeth, only he was older now; seventeen birthday candles flashed through her mind. He had blown them out the day before.
Urgency coursed through his veins as he scanned the field. Beyond the orchard of violet blossoms, a forest of tall crimson-bark trees called to him, their smoky scent drifting in the breeze. A raven cried, chortling loudly overhead. Asair ran, and when the raven followed, his pace quickened. His heart beat steadily as he kept his gaze on the black wings. A canopy of magenta leaves crisscrossed overhead as he entered the forest. The raven circled, but as Asair stepped farther into the dark mist of the trees, the raven dared not follow.
Though fear slipped along Asair’s nerves, he headed deeper into the woods. He dodged broken branches, ran through a pebbled stream and along mud-soaked paths, never once stopping. His pulse raced, not from the exertion, but with adrenaline from his frantic thoughts. Halen tried to grasp just one, but they flashed away before she could see any one thought clearly.
A creature cried overhead. This call was deep, more like a howl, and Asair slid with his back against a tree. Peering up, he searched the branches, and when he found neon eyes staring back, he ran.
As he sprinted farther into the forest, the thatched leaves buried the light. Halen wished to turn around, but Asair pushed through. His pants snagged on a branch, ripping the cotton and slashing his leg, but still he kept running. Warm blood trickled down his calf, cooling with a brush of wind.
He stopped and pressed his hand to the bark of a tree, not to his wound, which Halen felt needed attending to. His breath was ragged. His throat burned. He should seek water, but Asair focused on the crimson bark before him.
He tapped the tree, waited for a moment, listening with his ear pressed to the rough bark, then moved on to the tree beside it. He repeated rubbing the bark first, then tilting his ear to the tree, listening but hearing nothing. Tree after tree, he repeated this crazed routine. The tips of his fingers bled with splinters.
This was madness; no wonder the Etlins had locked him away. Stop! she yelled as he eyed the next tree, but his memories were deaf to her complaints.
He rubbed the bark, softer this time, the pain pricking up to his wrist. Halen felt every cut as if
they were her own. He shook his hand by his side, and she thought maybe he’d given up, when he pressed his cheek to the trunk. A low hum sang through his ears, vibrating in the base of his neck. He circled the massive trunk, glancing up and down the bark. Notched along one side were grooves, deep enough for fingers to grasp, yet too small for human feet to fit. The grooves traveled up the bark, disappearing into the thick leaves above.
Asair swallowed hard, fighting the rising bile in his throat. He was terrified of heights. Halen caught a glimpse of this feeling, but it passed when Asair reached for the uppermost groove within his grasp. Stop this! she yelled. He couldn’t climb this tree with his hands! He reached again, and even though she closed her eyes, there was no hiding from his memory. He heaved with deep breaths as he scaled the tree. His legs dangled, swaying from side to side as he made his way up. His fingers dug in the bark, his fingernails bled, and his jaw clenched.
As he climbed, he thought of Elizabeth. Halen could see her, tossing her teacup at him, then a plate, and finally a silk-bound book, her eyes rimmed with tears, her hair coiled and matted against her reddened cheeks. As she screamed the words coward and fool, his chest caved with a heavy ache. When he met Elizabeth’s cool stare, a part of him wished for death, knowing this life would never fulfill his longing. This scared Halen more than any other thing she had seen in his mind. She searched now through his memories for a will to live, and as he glanced at the ground below, he stopped climbing.
What are you doing? she asked. Keep climbing! This was a memory; she knew he lived, but it didn’t change his indecision in this moment. When he peered below, a wave of dizziness swept through him. The ground was an open grave awaiting his fall. Climb! she screamed. When he stretched for the next groove, Halen breathed with ease.
The branches spread in a canopy as he reached the top, curling into one another like snakes in a basket, the bark a giant nest. He grabbed the side, using it as leverage to hoist his body over a ledge. He tumbled inside, the rough edges poking his spine, scratching his legs and stabbing his shoulders with sharp prickles. He lay panting, his eyes closed. His arms burned with exhaustion. He swiped perspiration from his brow, while Halen thanked God, every angel, and holy saint that they hadn’t plummeted to the ground.
His hand pressed against something sticky and warm and when he opened his eyes, he gagged. He sat up at once, lifting both his hands. A badger, a fox and dozens of rats lined the floor, their carcasses strewn in bits. A severed raven’s head and the bloodied striped tail of a raccoon poked from the branches. Across the nest, a giant mirror captured his repulsion. His face paled as he picked tiny bones from his hair. When he tossed the last bone, his hand brushed something slick and his gaze darted to the rabbits hanging behind him, their fur stripped from the muscled carcass. With his gaze on the hares, he didn’t even see the claw swipe the air.
A great force shoved him back against the animal carcasses. Thick black nails dug into his chest, ripping through the cotton. Blood seeped through his shirt, and he followed the line of the claw to the shimmery scaled foot leading up to the haunches of the dragon pinning him to the nest. He winced and the dragon pressed harder, forcing the breath from his lungs.
“Why have you come here?” The dragon’s voice was raspy and unmistakably a woman’s. Her foul breath smelled of rancid blood.
“I need your help.” The words caught in his throat.
He came here for help? Halen couldn’t believe it. He was either brave or incredibly stupid.
“These are dark times.” Blood now pooled in the center of his chest, but the dragon didn’t release the pressure. “The spirit of Tarius is strong. How do I know you didn’t come here as a spy?”
“I’m not a spy.” Asair fought for breath, his fearless expression reflected in the dragon’s glassy eyes. “Read my mind. I’m a blue moon siren. I can help you, but you must help my Guardian.”
Her talons retracted ever so slightly. “The Hunters have killed all the sirens. You lie.”
“I’m telling the truth.” He reached across his chest, above the dragon’s claw, and tore the sleeve from his shirt. He squirmed in her grasp, turning his shoulder upward. “I bear the birthmark of the Elosians. If you do not believe me, kill me now.”
Stupid, Halen said.
The dragon crouched. She was the height of a stallion with long sinuous wings that were tucked at her back. Silver scales coated her body; her eyes were a blend of copper and cinnamon and against the pale silver, they shone like gold.
A cocktail of fascination and terror flowed through Asair’s veins as the dragon’s glassy eyes studied his birthmark. He had never been this close to a dragon, yet he knew everything about them.
His mind swirled with their habits: nocturnal, lived in treetops, hunted small game, preferring ravens in the winter season, daffodils in the spring, and berries and badgers in the summer. But their magick interested him the most. A dragon could raise the dead, heal the sick, and drive a creature to the depths of insanity with just one breath.
The dragon stepped back, easing her claw from his chest. “So, you are a siren. But you’re too late to help. Darkness shadows Etlis. The light weavers are but an ember of the flame they once were.”
“An ember can ignite a fire.” He sat. “I have a Guardian—together we will fight.”
“A blue moon siren with a Guardian? What good are you to me?” she huffed, her breath turning his stomach.
“We are stronger together, but she needs help—she’s sick. If you help us, heal her, we will return the favor.” His desperation washed though Halen.
“You must kill her at once. If she is not well, she will drain your powers.”
“You don’t understand. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Her mind is lost.” He looked down twisting his hands in his lap. “It was my fault.” Halen caught a flash of him scooping Elizabeth in his arms, her head bleeding and rocks slicked with blood. How he ran home, cleaned off her wound, while frantically casting a spell. She slept for days while he paced by her bed. When she woke, she tore through him with blame. Elizabeth’s mind faltered with fits of happiness and spouts of rage. She found pleasure in driving Asair into the darkness of his seam, but he fought back, clawing his way to the light. Elizabeth’s sickness consumed her mind, and Asair weakened to her—he feared losing himself to her dark thoughts.
The dragon swung her tail so it clipped his bracelet. “Forged from dragon’s breath and dark magick.” Her irises were now no more than a sliver. “No one should be allowed to dance along the seam of another’s soul.” Her tail swished behind her, knocking the nest, so the whole structure swayed. “You are bound to your Guardian by the shackles of evil—Tarius’ prison for all blue sirens. Unless you release your Guardian, you will never possess the power of the light—we will never be free.”
He protectively clasped his hand over the bracelet. “Elizabeth is my balance. I need her.”
“You need her like the crops need a monsoon.” Her nostrils flared.
“You’re wrong—my Guardian is my breath.” He thumped his chest with his fist.
“And your Guardian would gladly suck it from your lungs. If you want to truly help, if you want to end the war, you will give her up. I will make the choice easy for you.” She whispered low with a singsong chant and blew her words into the misty air of Etlis. Her song was a call—a challenge for Elizabeth’s soul.
“No! Leave her alone!” He stood, clawing at her back, though the scales sliced his hands. “Please don’t!”
“You have not betrayed her. She will understand—she will see you as the salvation of the realms. It must be done.”
“Please don’t harm her.” Tears streamed down his cheeks.
The dragon’s golden stare fixed on the sky. Her refusal to retract her song cut like a blade at his throat. Elizabeth would not thank him—she would blame him for eternity. He would never forgive himself for coming.
“Why?” He fell to his knees, sobbing into his hands. “W
hy would you do this?”
Halen shivered, her teeth chattering; she was so cold, so empty…
Her eyelids shot open. She gasped for breath. The back of her head throbbed from hitting the tile floor. She reached for the towel. Her hand brushed something soft. Her head rolled to the side.
Maddie crouched over her, her pretty little face contorted with a wicked smile. Halen’s eyes widened as her gaze fell to the knife clutched in Maddie’s fist. Maddie’s lips parted with a deafening howl and she plunged the blade toward Halen’s chest.
With a fluid motion, Halen’s hand flew up, stopping the blade; the tip wavered above the center of her palm.
Maddie’s jaw fell slack and her eyes widened, as if she had witnessed a horrific crime. Her hand snapped away from the knife, but though she was no longer holding the hilt, the knife hung in midair.
Beneath the pointed tip, a butterfly wriggled free from Halen’s palm. The creature’s wings spread, and it fluttered up and around Maddie’s hair.
With her free hand, Halen grasped the blade from the air and then set it on the counter, away from the girl. As she rose to her knees, she held both palms facing Maddie. She gasped when two more butterflies sprang from Halen’s palms and uncurled orange and black wings.
Dax skidded into the bedroom, stopping short when he saw the butterflies.
Halen nodded with a slight smile. Rising slowly to her feet, Halen inched away and Dax guided Maddie by the elbow into the bedroom, so Halen could step out of the bathroom. With each step, another butterfly floated free from her palms. She followed the butterfly up in the air, its copper wings fluttering toward Maddie.
When Maddie held out her hand, the butterfly landed on her finger. A smile reached her eyes, when she glanced up at Halen. Halen rubbed her fingers down along her palms and the bedroom exploded with a rainbow of color. Maddie spun with her arms outstretched, laughing.
Dax had a goofy grin planted on his face. He shook his head.
“What?” Halen asked.
“You’re incredible.”
Curses and Ash (The Siren Chronicles Book 2) Page 14
