Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3)

by Theresa Dalayne

  She couldn’t just ignore everything Peter had said. She’d known Jayden for so long, it was obvious that was exactly what he was trying to do. “Let me see.” She gestured to his chest.

  “What? No. Forget about it.” He patted the bed beside him. “Just relax and hang out with me. I missed you.”

  ”I missed you too, Jay. But you need to let me see what we’re dealing with. Peter’s not the only one who can heal now, and—oh! Did anyone tell you? Sarian, he’s—”

  “Dead. Yeah. Peter told me before you came back.” He took her hand and gently pulled her onto the bed beside him. “I know how much of a relief that must be for you, to know he can’t hurt you anymore. All those years.” He brushed his fingers over the top of her hand. “At least it’s over now. You’re fine, I’m fine, and we’re gonna be—”

  “Fine. Yeah. I know. But I still need to see what’s going on under there.” She pointed to his shirt. “It won’t be the first time I’ve seen you without a shirt on, so stop pretending to be shy. We both know you’re not.”

  He braced himself on the bed and sat up as well as he could. “Apparently I’m not the only one anymore. I remember when you would blush every time you saw me without a shirt.”

  “Well.” She tapped him twice on his leg, urging him to hurry up. “I’ve been through a lot and grown up a lot since then too. Don’t make it out to be more than it is.”

  His eyebrows furrowed and the edges of his mouth turned down. “Right. I forgot. You’re not into me like that anymore.” His tight lips softened. “But you still came and got me, and that means something, whether you want to admit it or not.”

  Zanya sighed. “Believe whatever you want, Jay. You always do anyway.”

  He huffed, and then crossed his arms over his torso and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt. When he tried to peel it off, his arms trembled, and he couldn’t lift it over his head.

  “Wow.” She gently pushed his hands back down to his sides. “You are in a lot of pain, aren’t you?” Not that she didn’t experience it herself while seeking him. He wasn’t making it up. “I’m going to take this off for you. I’ll be careful.”

  Surprisingly he didn’t crack a wise comment and instead did as she asked. When she finally slipped the shirt over his head, she gasped. “You’ve barely healed at all.”

  Stitches wove his skin together as if he were some kind of Raggedy Andy doll. They stretched from his collarbone and veined out in different directions across his chest. Stitches zigzagged across his chest, weaving his jagged flesh together.

  “Okay. Scoot yourself down and lie completely flat.” Zanya brushed her fingers together, gathering her courage. What she was about to do would be awkward but necessary. “Before I do this, let me just tell you that if you make any stupid comments, I’ll kill you.” Jayden’s eyes widened when she stripped off her shirt and tossed it on the chair beside the bed.

  He leaned up on his forearms. “What are you doing?”

  “Just lie down, please.” She took her stone from her pocket. She had a lot better of a chance to do this right if her stone was with her. She’d failed once at healing him, and she was determined not to do it again.

  Zanya straddled him, and he rested his hand on her hip. She slapped it away and glared. “Be good.” She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, channeling her energy. Tiny sparks fired over the surface of her hands.

  She’d have to do better than that.

  With more focus she sent energy up her arms and over the top half of her body.

  Jayden shifted under her. “Since when do you decide to take off your shirt and hop into bed with me? Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Didn’t we agree on no comments?” she said with her eyes still closed.

  “I never agreed to that.”

  “Since you were torn apart and died because of me, okay? Now be quiet for a second. I need to concentrate.” After a moment, the light in her chest burst to life. “This might hurt a little, but only from my weight.” She planted her hands on either side of him and lowered her body over his. The stitches prickled her skin. Jayden let out a low groan.

  He was as cold as ice. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry. Try not to move around too much.” She laid her head on the curve of his shoulder and wrapped her arms under his. “Just breathe.” She supported some of her own weight on her forearms. “The more of my skin that’s touching yours, the better I’ll be able to heal you.”

  He rested his hands on her lower back and trailed his fingers up to her shoulder blades.

  Zanya lifted her head. “Are you okay? If it’s too much, I can—”

  “No.” His voice was soft. “Stay. Please.” The way his eyes begged her made her body flush.

  Zanya swallowed. “Jayden.”

  “It’s fine. I get it.” His hands curved over her shoulders. “Just stay like this for a few more minutes. It’s helping.”

  She hesitated but then rested her head back down on his shoulder. For the first time she realized just how much she missed him, and how afraid she was that he might have been gone forever.

  Jayden’s breaths steadied. “You know what happened to me wasn’t your fault, right?” His voice was soft and raspy.

  “Yes, it was. You were trying to protect me, and if it weren’t for that, you would never have gone through any of this.”

  “And I never would have known how much you care about me. You came for me, Zanya. I love you for it.”

  Hearing him say that aloud made her chest tighten, but only because he meant it in a way she never could. Not like before.

  Her fingertips tingled with numbness. Probably a sign to stop for the day. “I’m gonna get up now. Tell me if I’m hurting you.” As she pushed herself off the bed, Jayden hooked his fingers around her arms and stopped her.

  He pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Zanya. I do feel a little better.”

  She moved and planted her feet on the floor. Her legs were wobbly and unstable as she slipped her shirt back on. “I’m sorry I can’t do more now, but I have to rest. Healing seems to be harder than some of the other stuff.” Her head spun, but it was a small sacrifice. Still, she needed rest. She hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours and her body cried out for a fluffy robe, warm blankets, and a down pillow.

  Jay was still sprawled out on the bed with his hands behind his head. She gave him a faint smile and stole a glance at the patch job on his chest. It seemed a tiny bit better, though not by much. “Well…” She shifted toward the door. “I’m going to go.”

  “Thanks for healing me. Again tomorrow?”

  Zanya nodded. “But you know you should let Peter heal you too. He’s just trying to help.”

  “I know. As long as I don’t have to be around Renato. The guy doesn’t like me, and he’s crazy for thinking I’d hurt you.”

  “I know. I’m sorry about that.” She walked toward the door. “He’s just being protective.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Jayden sat up. “Hey. Will every healing session be like that?”

  Zanya rolled her eyes. “Probably.” It was obvious he was searching for something sarcastic to say. Maybe this time she’d beat him to the punch. “But you know if you let Peter heal you the way I did tonight…”

  His eyes grew wide. “Oh hell no. There is no way in—”

  Zanya chuckled. “Good night, Jay. Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He lay back down with a huff. “Fine.”

  Zanya opened the door, watching him pout like a child. “I missed you.”

  He smiled. A real smile. “I missed you, too.”

  Zanya walked into the hallway and exhaled. She rested her back against the patterned wallpaper and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

  It had been a long day, and nothing sounded more alluring than a hot shower and a pillow-top mattress.

  Something crinkled in the back pocket of her jeans. When Zanya slid her fingers into the pocket, and her skin brushed against the rough texture of the
paper, and she pulled out folded pages from the book. Pages she’d stolen from the underworld, just after Contessa had claimed the rest of the text.

  Zanya groaned. A hot shower and a pillow-top mattress would have to wait. She had to bring the pages to Renato. Maybe he’d find something useful in the glyphs.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Arwan

  Arwan stood on the far side of the room, leaning against the wall.

  Tara sat on the bed beside Peter with her legs crossed, hugging a pillow to her chest.

  Hawa was seated on the floor. With her back rested against the wall, she spun her ring in circles, listening to the conversation.

  Arwan noted how pale Zanya was. The bags under her eyes had also gotten worse. Even the guardian needed rest.

  “These are pages from the Popol Vuh?” Renato stood from the leather armchair and took the frail papers from Zanya’s hand.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know what it says. What’s it about?” Zanya yawned and rubbed her eyes.

  “The Popol Vuh means book of counsel, or more literally, book of the people. It contains not only the original creation story of the Maya, but also information about genealogies that have been kept secret for thousands of years.”

  “So you can translate them, right?” Hawa asked.

  Renato examined the papers, one after the other. “I recognize the numerical symbols in the corners, but I cannot read the glyphs. It’s a formal dialect from the royal families of the original civilization.”

  “I tore out as many as I could. He was still reading when the roots of the tree pulled everyone under.”

  Renato looked up from behind the creased pages. “You witnessed that?”

  Zanya nodded.

  He returned his focus to the strange writing. “That must have been frightening.”

  Arwan tried not to cringe, recalling the change as it had torn through him and Zanya’s terrified expression when she’d seen him in his alternate form.

  “The ground was completely saturated with blood,” Zanya said. “When Contessa showed up, it was like…” She crossed her arms, stretching her sleeves over her hands—just like she’d done when she first arrived at Renato’s house. “Like she enjoyed watching it happen.”

  “So Contessa has the book now?” Peter asked.

  Zanya nodded. “She took it after that underworld animal killed Sarian.”

  Arwan’s stomach twisted. That underworld animal. Those words were all he could focus on.

  “She waltzed right up the temple steps and took the book from the altar. She wasn’t even scared.”

  “You couldn’t stop her?” Peter said.

  “I was a little busy bleeding to death. Sorry.”

  She was tired and obviously irritable. He closed the distance between them and rested his hand on the small of her back. “You need to get some rest.”

  She responded by gesturing to the pages in Renato’s hand. “Can these help us at all?”

  “It’s not often one has the opportunity to read even a small passage from the original Popol Vuh, but unfortunately, I’m not entirely sure if these particular scripts can do anything to help us find Contessa or the book.”

  “Drina.” Arwan looked at Renato. “She was in Guatemala. She may be able to help.”

  “And Cualli said she would help if we needed her,” Zanya added.

  “Let’s not bring the middleworld gods into this unless it is completely necessary.” Renato tucked the papers into his jacket pocket. “We should head back to Belize as soon as possible. Marzena recently informed me the workers have finished fixing the damage to the house.” His gaze moved on Arwan. “Also, if Contessa has the book, that means she is undoubtedly planning something. You need to return to training Peter. Zanya needs close-contact combat instruction as well and should learn how to better use her powers.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Zanya said, blinking slowly.

  Hawa stood and smoothed down her shirt. “Well, if nobody minds, I’m going to check out some of the nightlife. Now that my leg is all healed up, I want to go dancing.”

  She opened the hotel room door and paused. “Anyone else want to come?”

  Tara shook her head. “No. I think I’ve had my fill of clubs—forever.”

  Peter cracked a smile.

  “All right. Well, I’m off.” Hawa walked out and closed the door behind her.

  Tara stood up as well. “I’m going to shower.” She waved to Peter. “Come by my room if you want to watch a movie later.”

  Peter nodded. “I’ll take you up on that.”

  When Tara left the room, Arwan turned to Zanya. “And you should get some sleep.”

  She glanced at Renato. “I have to talk to you first.”

  Renato stood up straighter. “All right. I’m listening.”

  “I just want to make sure everything’s okay with you and Jay.”

  Renato’s features sobered. “How so?”

  “You know.” She shrugged. “He says you’re acting weird. Like you don’t want him around anymore. I told him you were just stressed and—” She examined Renato’s steely gaze. “It’s not true…right?”

  Renato curled his fingers around the lapel of his coat. “Jayden is an unknown. Do you believe we can continue to trust him?”

  “Wow.” Her flat tone made Arwan shift his weight. “You know, I stuck up for you. I told him you were just being protective and to cut you some slack. But he was right. You really don’t want him here anymore.”

  This conversation wouldn’t end well for anyone. Arwan stepped closer to them both. “Maybe we should all get some rest before talking about this.”

  Renato nodded. “I think that’s a—”

  “Admit it.” Zanya braced her hands on her hips.

  “Very well,” Renato said. “He may be dangerous, and I believe it is for the best if he keeps his distance. At least until we can identify what the cause of his…illness is.”

  “You can keep all the distance you want, but don’t expect me to stay away. He’s one of us. You should know that better than anyone.” Her eyes narrowed. “You were the one who hired him to find me in the first place.”

  They all knew what she really meant. When she and Jayden grew close, Renato ordered him to stay, aware that when he left, it would break her heart.

  Renato’s chest sank with a deep exhale, and he looked away.

  Silence filled the room.

  Zanya glanced at him and Peter. “I don’t want to talk about this again.” She walked into the hall, leaving Arwan alone with Peter and Renato.

  Arwan exhaled, considering his mentor’s undeniable concern. “What do you think this situation with Jayden means? Is he an underworlder now?”

  “I have no idea.” Peter shrugged. “It is what it is, whether she wants to face it or not.”

  Renato reached in the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his pipe. “I will get in touch with Marzena. She may know more about this than I.”

  Arwan turned to Renato. “I want to examine him myself.”

  “Why?” Peter asked.

  “I may be able to sense something you can’t.” Like the inherent darkness of an underworlder. It lingered deep in every being from that realm, and every underworlder could sense it.

  “Whatever you want to do,” Peter said. “Zanya already tried to heal him. Now is as good of a time as any.”

  Arwan narrowed his eyes. “She’s was with him alone?”

  Peter nodded.

  Under the circumstances, Arwan sided with Renato. Leaving them alone was risky. Even if she was the guardian.

  Arwan walked across the room and flung open the door. He stalked down the hallway and pounded on Jayden’s door, then listened to the line of mumbled curses from the other side.

  Jayden cracked open the door and peered out. “What do you want?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  The seeker tried to shove the door closed. Arwan planted his h
and on it and pushed it open, forcing him to stumble back. “Let me be clear. I’m coming in.”

  Jayden leaned on the wall, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to stand up straight. “No. I’m not busy. Come on in.” Sarcasm drenched his tone.

  Arwan shut the door and locked it.

  Jayden’s gaze flickered to the steel bolt. “What are you doing?”

  The seeker appeared much too weak to struggle. “I just want to see something. Hold still.”

  When Arwan stepped forward, Jayden staggered back a few steps. Arwan caught him by his shoulders and stared into the seeker’s eyes.

  “If you’re here to ask me on a date, you should have just said so.” Jayden’s arms quivered and his heartbeat accelerated.

  He was in pain.

  “Stop talking.” Arwan hadn’t intentionally tuned in to his dark side in longer than he could remember. If he wasn’t able to control it, he may morph right in the hotel room.

  Arwan drew in a deep breath. His inner beast clashed and sparked against his will to keep it caged. He searched Jayden for any hint of underworld energy but found none. He needed to look deeper.

  “I’m going to need you to bleed.”

  Jayden glared. “Now you want a piece of me?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. But I have to.” Arwan removed a small dagger from a sheath in his belt he always carried.

  Jayden pulled back, his face contorting under the effort.

  “Hold still.” Arwan grabbed Jayden’s wrist and steadied the blade over his forearm. “I just need—”

  A punch to his cheekbone cut him off. “Fuck you!” Jayden shouted and doubled over holding his chest.

  Arwan clenched his jaw as the darkness clawed its way out. This time he didn’t work as hard to hold it back.

  He gripped Jayden’s neck and slammed him against the wall, applying just enough pressure to keep him in place. “I’m not here to kill you, seeker. But if you won’t hold still, I just might.”

  He let go of Jayden’s neck and nicked Jayden’s arm with the blade.